#i blame the city of boston | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spatialwave · 1 month

Note

i am LOVING your angus tully content 💕 would you please write an angus tully x reader where the reader meets angus in boston while they’re ice skating and then they get to know each other as they explore the city, sort of ‘before sunrise’ style and hunham gives them the space to do so? if you don’t like this idea though that’s totally okay!! have a lovely day regardless :)

𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 4k notes: reader is very nervous & dorky! thank u for sending 🤎

the chilly december air stung your cheeks, leaving them reddened and sore, but that didn’t stop you from braving the weather and heading to the public skating rink. your friends had cancelled on you last minute, one of them falling sick with a nasty cold and the other deciding that her boyfriend was more important than a night with you during the festivities that boston had to offer. you couldn't be angry at her, though, you were a hopeless romantic at heart and would do the same if you had a boyfriend. you were happy that your best friend found someone so perfect for her, you dreamed of finding him too—the perfect boy.

though, you usually just giggled in your bed at night when you imagined yourself spending the rest of your life with david cassidy. that was much easier than finding real love.

so, alone you were as you willed your way ahead through the boston streets where your father had dropped you off. you promised yourself you'd start getting out of your nervous shell and what better way to test it than being alone at a skating rink? especially when you were notoriously clumsy and horrendous at skating.

if you could do this, you could do anything.

as you approached the skating rink you felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety flooding you. there were a lot of people, too many people, a lot of friends giggling with each other, children learning how to skate with their parents and partners holding hands as they stared into each other's eyes lovingly. you sorely missed your friends, but you shoved that thought as deeply into your consciousness as you could because you promised yourself you wouldn't wallow in your loneliness.

and you were here, weren’t you? successfully making do without them. all you needed to do was get the skates on and make your way onto the ice—that’s all. getting here was half the battle.

comfort warmed you as you fit yourself into the hand-me-down skates your older sister had given you. you tried so hard not to think about the negatives because even if you slipped and fell, it’s not like anyone here knew you. there was not a single person on the rink that looked even the slightest bit familiar and you thanked god you lived in a busy city.

of course, you were unsuccessful in ridding those thoughts because all you could think about was that there was a likely chance you could embarrass yourself in front of a cute boy. you were too boy-crazy for your own good, your mother blamed david cassidy for it.

as you let out a shaky exhale, you darted your eyes around the exterior of the rink as you shrugged off your bag and held your winter boots in your hand. you had ran into your first problem of the evening; there was no one to watch your belongings.

that’s when you noticed an older man just to the left of you, smoking out of a pipe and watching the rink, smiling to himself. he seemed friendly enough, reminding you a lot of your grandpa. there was no better person to watch your things!

“excuse me sir,” you said to him, smiling as you approached him cautiously, “is it alright if i leave my things here next to you? i’m not skating for long… i just don’t want to take them onto the rink with me.”

the man hadn’t realized you were talking to him at first as he pulled the pipe out of his mouth and looked between you and someone on the skating rink. he smacked his lips together a few times in thought, “okay. sure, i don’t mind.” he mumbled, though you could tell that he minded.

he was grumpier than you pegged him to be.

“thank you so much! i won’t be long!” you smiled, happy that you had some form of success, but again you had to ward off the image in your head of him running off with your things. at least he’d only have stolen a woman’s snow boots and three dollars from your wallet.

as you waddled away, you hadn’t noticed that a boy on the rink had skated up to the older man, you were much too focused on not toppling over. your ankles were already wobbling back and forth as you navigated through the snow, unaware of the set of eyes that lingered on you with each step you took.

“you got this,” you breathed to yourself as you made it to the entrance, taking a long and deep breath that caught in your throat. you froze in your spot, feeling frigid as you watched the tens of people skating along the rink so seemingly expert in their ways.

a woman cleared her throat behind you and you jolted up, looking over your shoulder and seeing a mother and her two children waiting to step into the rink, “sorry!” you squealed as you hurried onto the ice and clung to the railing for dear life.

the sounds of the young kids snickering made your cheeks burn red, so you kept your eyes downward and stared at your mitten-covered hands as they gripped onto the rail. then you focused on your feet, slowly moving them back and forth on the ice as you got used to the feeling of the skates gliding across the frozen surface.

with a triumphant huff, you straightened up and slowly started to skate with your hand keeping balance on the edge, much like a learning child. at least they usually had a helper.

you had focused on this for a bit, getting into the swing of things. you looked around with a content smile, slowly moving and breathing in the crisp air as you focused on the sounds of laughter. the christmas spirit was high and you were happier than ever to be experiencing this alone, you couldn’t wait to go home and gush to your sister about your first solo adventure as a young woman.

satisfaction wasn’t fully met, however. you needed to challenge yourself further before calling it a night.

carefully, you let your hand off of the rail and moved carefully away from the edge. your eyes darted around your immediate surroundings, making sure you had enough of a clearing to start skating without bumping into anyone. a big smile grew on your face, you were by no means quick, but at least you were moving!

you focused your eyes back down on your feet, watching closely as you moved one in front of the other with intention. you were getting the hang of it, muscle memory coming back from when you skated as a kid. with your attention far from the outside world, you didn’t notice a duo of young girls coming right for you—too busy laughing amongst each other to notice you drifting in front of them.

one of the girls bumped hard into your shoulder and yelped out a sincere ‘sorry’ as you lost your balance on your feet. you almost kept yourself upright, but you quickly fell back.

you expected to crash down onto the ice with a hard thump, but two arms caught you, hooking underneath your armpits and hoisting you back upright onto your skates. you didn’t have the means to turn around all that quickly, but the person who saved you seemed to realize that, so he skated in front of you and turned to look at you. he made it seem so easy to skate backward.

“you okay?” he asked, but you hardly heard the words because you were so fascinated with how beautiful he was. he had the biggest brown eyes you’d ever seen and a head full of wild curls that he obviously tried to tame. he was also taller than you, making you feel so small under his gaze, but not threatening in the slightest. all you could do was smile at him like a dork.

your knight in shining armour.

a few moments pass and the realization hit that you had been completely silent, “thank you!” you blurted out, your eyes widening in horror because of how you were staring at him like a goddamned fool, "i'm not very good at this."

"you were doing fine until you got bulldozed over," the boy smiled, unabashedly looking you up and down. he cleared his throat and held out two of his gloved hands, "hang on."

you obeyed with no hesitation, your arms extending so you could take his gloved hands in your own. you felt your mouth go dry and you had to force your hands to stop shaking. you were always so much more anxious around boys.

"oh, god," you groaned in anticipation as he started skating backward, pulling you along and forcing you to focus on keeping balance, "you really don't have to spend your time here teaching me how to skate." you looked up at him, feeling like a burden.

"i know," he replied, grinning at you as he kept pulling you along the ice, his gaze only breaking to make sure he wasn't about to skate back into anyone. those brown eyes fell back on you, watching you with a soft gaze as you kept moving with one foot gliding in front of the other, "i'm angus."

"hi, angus," you smiled, chewing on the inside of your lip after you returned the introduction. you could feel your cheeks blushing. you looked down and at your feet again, but your lack of focus got the best of you, "ah, shit!"

just as you lost your footing and balance, nearly flying forward, angus wrapped an arm around you and laughed aloud, pulling you against him so you couldn't tip over. you could've stayed like that forever, nuzzled against this boy's chest and forgetting about the outside world.

"you're clumsy," he teased, flickering his gaze down at you as he led you both to the railing for a rest.

"you only just noticed?" you retorted playfully as you leaned against the support, letting yourself exhale in relief once you could rest the entirety of your weight against it. shyly, you looked back over to angus after a few beats of silence, "you're not here with anyone else?"

angus scrunched his nose in response, shrugging, "it's a long story."

"i like stories," you mused, not ready to let this end. whatever this was.

a breathy laugh came from him as he glanced away to look at something, you hadn't been able to follow his gaze before he was looking at you again. there was something about him that kept your attention, likely the fact that he genuinely seemed to enjoy your presence. it made you giddy and your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"well, i came here with my history teacher," he said, almost sheepishly. you looked at him with slightly furrowed brows, uncertain where this would be going, "i go to a boarding school out of town, north of here. i, uh, didn't get to spend christmas with my family and so i've been stuck at school with him as my chaperone. guess i'm good at convincing people to take me places," he chuckled, his gaze looking anywhere but at you.

"i don't think i would've guessed that story in a million years," you giggled, a smile reaching your eyes as you looked over angus' face, "sorry about your family, though. must be hard around the holidays."

"it's fine," he quipped quickly, you figured it best to not bring up his family anymore.

you fell silent for a bit, thinning your lips as you looked around and focused on your surroundings to pass the time and try to ignore the awkward silence. you watched a group of kids skating together, playfully shoving each other and laughing when one of them wiped out.

"did you want to skate again?" angus' voice broke the silence and you met his eyes. with a small nod, he smiled and gave you his hands again.

the two of you had spent another twenty minutes on the skating rink, laughing together as he taught you how to keep yourself upright. you were happy to report that you'd only fallen on your ass twice, and even when he laughed at you, you felt your heart soaring.

there must've been some good karma you stored up over the year because you weren't sure why you were blessed to run into angus on a night like this. he was cute, funny and just as awkward as you were.

once you two were tired and ready to hang the skates up, you ventured out of the rink and stood at the exit. you had to catch your breath after laughing over some joke angus had made about his time at barton, something stupid that wouldn't have made you laugh in another other situation. angus was just... nice. funny, but in an endearingly dorky way.

as you bent down to untie your skates, you straightened up with a panicked look on your face. "my stuff!" you said, looking up at angus and then around the exterior of the rink, trying to spot the man you'd left your things with. that's where the bad karma came in, leaving you with nothing.

"are you looking for these?" a third voice spoke, your eyes landing on the pipe-smoking man that angus seemed to recognize. you put the pieces together.

"yes! thank you so much!" you smiled as you took the boots from him and your bag, quickly changing into the shoes that allowed you to stand steady. you sighed softly with a smile and looked between the two men, "i, uh, thank you again, sir, for keeping an eye on my things. and thanks, angus, i'm sure by next winter i'll be an olympic figure skater," you smiled, not quite ready to leave without spending more time with the boy, but you weren't sure you'd have the choice.

as luck would have it, though, his teacher, mr. hunham, seemed to have a soft spot for the boy.

"mr. tully, i'm calling it an evening and will be heading to the hotel room, i'm rather tired this evening," the older man explained. you could see the pleading look on angus's face, "i expect to see you there within a few hours or lest you deal with multiple detentions when we're back at barton," he continued with a satisfied look on his face when angus smile, "keep an eye on him for me." he turned to you, letting out a huffy sigh as he looked between the two of you once more before turning on his heels and leaving.

angus was speechless.

"he seems like a nice man," you said in awe as you watched him, growing nervous for other reasons now.

"trust me. he's usually not," angus replied, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as he looked down at you, "you look cold. i think i saw i coffee shop near here. they probably have hot chocolate or something."

"okay," you smiled, forcing yourself not to let your boy-crazy giddiness get the best of you again.

as you two ventured away from the skating rink, you found yourself feeling more comfortable with each passing second and talking about yourself like an open book. you spoke about everything and nothing, his favourite band was pink floyd and he was currently halfway through reading the novel dune. you shared your own love for the partridge family show, though, you kept your lips tight about your obsession with david cassidy.

you made a mental note to rip the poster of david off your wall if something were to ever come out of this night with you and angus, like hell he'd ever be in your room.

"what do you like so much about boston?" you asked angus as you two walked through one of the downtown streets in boston, your mittens shoved in your pocket as your hands cupped around the hot chocolate you sipped on. the heat emanated from the paper cup and warmed your hands. you two had been walking and talking for a while now and your drink was half-empty.

"you like long-winded answers, don't you?" angus said playfully, bumping himself against your side as you walked together. it caused a laugh to bubble up from you, your cheeks turning red at the closeness.

"what's so long about this answer?" you wondered aloud, glancing up at him.

"my dad is here," he said after taking a moment to think over his words, "he's uh, in the sanitorium," he murmured, not quite meeting your gaze, "not doing well mentally."

"you don't have to say anymore," you urged him, regretful that you asked the question in the first place.

"it's fine, i like you. you're not... judging me." angus admitted, flickering his eyes to you and smiling.

oh, god. that smile made your stomach do flips.

"why would i judge you?" you asked rhetorically, "you've been nothing but kind to me tonight. you didn't even know me and you caught me before i fell on my ass, i mean, that's the most any guy has ever done for me... and you bought me hot chocolate!" you were animated in your words as you spoke, not noticing how you lit up angus' facial expressions.

"like i said, it's because i like you." his lips twitched into a smile before he lifted his cup and downed the rest of his drink. you followed in suit, though, mostly to cover the way you had a smile stuck on your face like a lovesick puppy.

you two found an outdoor garbage bin and tossed your empty cups in, standing on a corner of the street that was near the courtyard with the skating rink. it was quiet there now, only then noticing how late it had gotten.

"so, what's your story?" angus interrupted your thoughts as he kept walking, you needing to take a few quick steps to meet his pace as he led you to a bench to sit down on. the perfect spot to watch the christmas lights flicker around the rink and people watch the last remaining people who were skating.

"it's hardly a story," you laughed, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up to the night sky, the stars hidden because of the city lights, "i'm just crawling my way to graduation so i can get out of my parent's house and go to college," you look over at him, "are you graduating, too?"

he shook his head, "i was expelled a few times," he admitted with an amused look on his face, "should be graduating, but stuck as a junior because of my atrocious behaviour," he teased with a click of his tongue.

"expelled?" you laughed, "wow, i didn't expect such a gentleman like you to be so fond of troublemaking."

that got a laugh out of him, the smile reaching his eyes as he turned ever-so-slightly to better look at you while you two sat together, "yep, i'm the absolute worst. though, i plead my case as i've been wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet once when it was obviously not true."

"uh-huh," you smirked, "are you certain about the wrongly accused part?" you snorted a laugh.

the night was perfect. the two of you sharing so many laughs that your cheeks were hurting and you were beginning to feel like you knew angus for years and this was simply a reunion of friends. you knew at some point it would end, but you didn't want to think about it. not yet, it was too painful of a thought.

your laughter settled and you couldn't break your gaze from angus, the silence looming, but not overwhelming. as you admired him, you caught the way his brown eyes flickered down to your lips and you inhaled sharply, the breath catching.

"i, uh—can i kiss you?" his words were gentle, but they rang through your ears loudly, causing chaos and mayhem that left you feeling like a nervous wreck, "unless i'm reading this wrong."

you parted your lips to speak but nothing came out. all you could do was look down at his lips and nod, hoping that your movements spoke volumes. thankfully, they did.

angus leaned forward, hesitating for a second, but if you could will your way forward to adventuring boston alone, then you could sure as hell will your way forward to meet him halfway. you leaned forward bravely and closed your eyes just as your lips met his, a tingling sensation rolling waves over your skin.

it was a simple kiss, one that made your lips numb when you pulled away and looked up into his eyes. but it wasn’t enough for angus because you were soon pulled into another as his hand lifted and cupped your jaw, keeping you against him as your lips moved together at a gentle, easy pace. he parted your lips with his own, which gave him the space to slip his tongue into your mouth and cause a soft sound to escape your lips. you were fully entranced by him, completely malleable under his touch as you tasted his tongue on your own—sweet like chocolate.

this went on for a few minutes, maybe longer. you two indulging in the kiss you both were anticipating the moment you set eyes on each other.

“this sucks,” you murmured when the kiss finally broke, you two parting to breathe.

“why?” angus furrowed his brows slightly, his hand still on your jaw.

“because i really like you,” you said, pursing your lips into a pout, “and at some point i’m going to have to say goodbye.”

angus shared the sentiment, frowning slightly, “i’ll come to boston again, okay?” he said, just as passionate about you as you were to him, “and if you give me your number i promise to call you.”

you nodded, sighing and watching the way your warm breath fogged up in the cold air. the city was so silent and you’d never been able to experience it quite like this, let alone with a boy you kissed. knowing that it was getting late, though, left you nervous. you had told your parents you wouldn’t be out long and would go to your sister's apartment downtown for a ride back home—leave it up to a boy like angus tully to make it fun to break the rules.

“when do you go back to barton?” you asked him quietly like you didn’t want to hear the answer.

“the day after tomorrow,” angus murmured, his thumb stroking along the skin over your cheek, “i’m gonna’ try visit my dad tomorrow,” he said, “that’s the whole reason i convinced mr. hunham to bring me here, he doesn’t even know.”

you widened your eyes in surprise, “do you think he’ll let you go?”

“probably not, but i’ll find a way.” he said, but not quite fully convinced.

“it’ll work out, angus,” you said, a shiver running up his spine as you said his name, “just like you and me. i’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

he was glad that you managed to see the bright side in all of this, as the night was coming to an end he was beginning to let his negative thoughts pull through. already he could tell that you were going to be a big part of his life, even if it ended up being fleeting and short.

“come on,” angus breathed out, removing his hand from your cheek and standing up. he offered his hand for you to take.

“where are we going?” you asked him, blinking a few times as you took his hand, no mittens or gloves in the way as his fingers interlaced with yours.

“nowhere in particular,” he said, keeping you close as you walked through the quiet boston streets in the early morning hours and spending the last bit of freedom together that you two could muster.

when all was said and done, you found yourself exhausted as you curled up in your bed with the first bit of sunrise spilling through your curtains. it was a bittersweet end to your night with angus, leaving you uncertain about what the future would hold. all you knew was that you’d be waiting for that phone call he promised you.

and taking down your poster of david cassidy.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #dominic sessa #angus tully fic #the holdovers fic #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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sexhaver · 2 months

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driving in Boston is so much worse than driving in actual cities because, like, say im stuck in rush-hour traffic in Houston. i can get mad at the situation im in, sure, but blaming any one car for it is like blaming an avalanche on a snowflake. we are all unified in our suffering like good Catholics and all is right with the world

but if i'm stuck in rush-hour traffic in Boston, i can indentify and blame the exact cause from up to a mile away. it kind of becomes impossible to have a Zen mindset about how everyone else is going through the same thing when you can see with your own two eyeballs that you are not just "stuck in traffic", you are specifically stuck behind Meemaw in her BMW SUV idling her way down a one-lane 60mph road because her turn is coming up in a few miles, and so are the two dozen people behind you, and all of you are trying to kill her with psychic powers until you give yourselves nosebleeds. or, my personal favorite, getting stuck behind someone in the left lane who is matching the speed of the driver to their right so they can presumably have a nice conversation while enjoying the tranquil view of two miles of empty lane in front of them. if i was forced to be a traffic cop i would kill myself so i could become one of those urban legend Ghost Cops who run people off of backroads in the middle of the night, except id run people off of the highway during rush hour, and everyone would love me

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riality-check · 11 months

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riiaaa!! for the 100 ways to say i love you prompts, #1 and steddie please!!

(this is also very late, but here we go!)

"Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"Steve."

"Mhm."

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna drive us off the road."

"I'm fine," Steve says, and Eddie watches from the passenger seat as the car moves a full two feet onto the shoulder.

And people have the nerve to criticize his driving.

"Yeah, no," Eddie says. "Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"I got it," Steve says, a mid-sentence yawn ruins his credibility.

Eddie sighs. Steve is more than just a good dude; he's become one of Eddie's closest friends over the past few months, thank you, trauma bonding. But even though Steve Harrington is a good person, he's exceptionally stubborn when he wants to be, and driving his Beemer is the most stubborn he ever gets.

Seriously, though? He needs to sleep. He's gonna get them hurt otherwise.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, and where that came from, he's going to blame on the sleep deprivation, "please. I promise I won't scratch your car."

Steve straightens up at that. Sneaks a glance at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Relaxes his grip on the wheel.

"Okay," he says, and he puts his blinker on, pulls onto the shoulder. "Yeah, you can drive."

Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief as they switch seats. He's lucky he and Steve are the same size, nearly; he doesn't have to adjust the seat or the mirrors.

He glances at Steve, just to make sure he's settled, before he shifts the car into gear and gets them back on the road toward Hawkins.

Move in was a success all around. First Nancy, in Boston, then Jonathan in New York, then Robin in Philadelphia. Steve and Eddie had nothing else to do, the gas money to spare, and a want to help out. Taking the Beemer seemed stupid until Eddie was reminded by everyone, less than nicely, that the van would fall apart on a drive to Indy, nevermind to three different cities on the East Coast.

They fit less boxes, but at least they made the journey without breaking down.

And now they're on their way back, at nearly midnight with four hours left to go, because it makes more sense to drive than to find an affordable hotel that's not a shithole in Philadelphia.

"This is weird," Steve mumbles.

"What is?"

"Letting someone else drive my car," he explains. "Last time, I was concussed, and Max almost drove us into a telephone pole."

"Mayfield?"

"Yeah, back in '84. Hargrove beat the shit out of me so bad I could barely think, the kids had to get somewhere, and she was the only one who knew at least a little about how to drive."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Everything I learn about you is weirder and weirder."

"I didn't even tell you the worst part."

"Which is?"

"I was so out of it, I thought Mike was Nancy."

Eddie cackles, wiping the tears from his eyes as he continues to drive. Thank god no else is on the road.

"They don't even look alike," he wheezes.

"In my defense," Steve says with a smile, "I did have brain damage."

"Past tense?"

Steve punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole."

Eddie rubs over the spot with one hand and keeps driving with the other. It's nice, this time of night. No one on the road, warm enough to have the windows cracked in the pitch black. Music playing loud enough to hear but low enough to have a conversation over.

It helps that Steve's rich-boy car drives smoother than anything else Eddie's been behind the wheel of, and Eddie's been behind a lot of different wheels in his life.

"Thanks," Steve says after a little while.

"For what?"

"Driving."

"Of course," Eddie says, because he means it. Of course he'd drive when Steve can't. It's what you do for the people you-

Eddie looks over at Steve. He's kicked his shoes off and scrunched his knees to his chest on the passenger seat. He's curled up, toward Eddie, with his hair fanned out and his cheek squished against his knee, eyes closed. The streetlights, as they race by them, cast his skin in varying shades of silver and gold, highlighting the contrast of his freckles.

-love.

Eddie's doing this because it's what he does for the people he loves.

It's a quieter realization than he expected. Eddie has loved a lot of people like he loves Wayne and his friends, but he's never been in love before. He thought it would be an all-consuming, heart-racing crash, a collision bringing fire and constriction, needing the jaws of life to pull him out.

This isn't like that. This is liking being a little kid, jumping off the couch, and knowing someone is waiting at the bottom to catch him. There's the feeling of danger, sure, but he knows what's at the bottom.

He wonders how long he's known. Long enough for that love, the love he has for Steve, to be something comfortable and warm in his chest.

Steve's hand rests on the space between them, palm up, outstretched. Eddie takes it and squeezes it.

And, though Steve is surely asleep, he thinks he might squeeze back.

Prompts here.

#ria writes #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #fluff #asked and answered #stevethehairington #thanks for asking!!

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albertasunrise · 1 year

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Look for the Light - 1

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist

You were standing guard when you overheard their conversation. You’d not meant to eavesdrop but when your name had fallen from Ellie's lips, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You and her a thing?” The child asked and Joel scoffed.

“Pass.” He replied and your heart sank.

“Something is going on with you two though.” She stated matter of factly and you could almost picture Joel’s expression.

“Pass.” He replied again and that was your cue to turn around again and return to keeping the watch.

“How'd you end up in Boston?” Ellie pushed and Joel practically grumbled out his reply.

“Pass.” His favourite response “No more questions about me.”

You tuned out after that. You could vaguely hear them discussing the life expectancy of the infected but you didn’t care to listen. Your mind instead wandered back to how you had met Tess and Joel. How they’d saved you from almost certain death.

You were sure you were hallucinating when two figures came into view. You blamed it on the blood loss. Damn raiders had got you good. Clutching to your leg, you watched them slink into view. You knew they would likely kill you. If anything, they would put you out of your misery. So that’s why, when they had gotten close enough, you’d called out for help. The shadows blocked the sun as they came to a stop beside you, your vision going black as they crouched to your level.

“She’s been shot.” Stated Tess as she inspected your wound “Best just leave her here.” She stated as she got back to her feet but Joel remained.

Normally he would have agreed with his partner. He’d left plenty of doomed souls to die where he’s found them but there was something about you that drew him in.

“We’re not far from Bill and Frank’s.” He stated as he placed two fingers on your neck “If we get her there, they could help.”

“Bill barely lets us in.” Tess grumbled, “What makes you think he’ll help her!” She scoffed.

“Frank will.”

“Why do you care Joel?” She asked, pulling his gaze to her “She’s a nobody. You’ve done it before!”

Joel didn’t reply. He simply scooped her up into his arms and started walking. Less than an hour later, Frank was patching you up and Bill was grumbling about dragging strays into his town.

You hadn’t strayed from Joel's side a day since

“You can put the gun down, Joel.” Sat Tess as she managed to barge the door open.

You made your way to Ellie's side and studied Tess’ expression.

“What is it?” You ask and she simply motioned for you to follow.

This couldn’t be good news.

Following through the abandoned hotel restaurant, you made your way to what looked like a balcony in the middle of renovations, before everything went to hell. Stepping through a plastic curtain the truth of your predicament came to light. You wouldn’t be going the way you’d hoped.

“There’s so many.” Gasped Ellie and you glanced at the girl a moment before sharing a look with Joel.

“The last time we were here, they were still deep inside the buildings.” Stated Tess as she watched the infected writhe on the floor “Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ, they went inside seeking shelter... and that's how they get more and more of the city bit by bit, year after year.“

A cloud parting overhead allowed the sun to shine its light down on the hoard below and their snarling became louder and almost pained. Ellie’s eyes widened in realisation as she watched them all writhe and scream on the ground below them.

“They’re connected!” She stated and you sighed.

“More than you know.” You stated as you looked from her to Tess “The fungus grows underground. Long fibres like wires some of them stretching for over a mile.”

Tess scraped a hand over her face as she then looked up at Joel before looking down at the child standing beside you.

“Now, you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place, and you can wake a dozen Infected from somewhere else.“ She piped up and Ellie looked over at the older woman “You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand?”

Ellie nodded before looking back down at the infected blow.

“It’s important.” Tess continued, her tone firm “I’m tryin’ to keep you alive.”

Ellie gave the woman a nod and then that was that. End of conversation.

“So we’re not going that way.” She grumbled and you shook your head.

“No.”

“What do we do then?” She asked, looking up at Joel “Short way?” She asked, almost panicked.

“Museum.” He replied, glancing at Tess before his eyes came to rest on you.

“Come on, we need to get going.” Piped up Tess as she led the way back into the hotel.

You followed without question, only to be stopped by a firm hand on your wrist.

“Joel, what are you-“

“You should head back.” He stated firmly “It’s gonna get dangerous.”

“More so than it already has been?” You scoffed, pulling your hand from his grip “Why me and not Tess?”

“She has more experience in this sorta thing.” He replied and you rolled your eyes “I’m serious.”

“You just wanna keep a backup play thing in case you lose one.” You replied bitterly.

“That’s not.” He shook his head and you scoffed again.

“So you’re not fuckin’ us both?” You pushed, leaving Joel at a loss for words “Look, Joel, I’m not your girlfriend. You can fuck who you like but I’m also not your property. So you can’t order me around. I will deliver the girl then that’s it.”

“What is?” He asked and for a moment, you thought you could sense fear in his tone.

“I’m done.” You replied plainly before making your way back inside and leaving a speechless Joel in your wake.

A mixture of emotions washed over him. Frustration, anger, hurt! Just to name a few. But the main one was sadness. Hearing you say that after this, you were done with him had cut him deeper than you knew. He had never been the best at showing you what you meant to him but he’d hoped you knew that you meant something. Maybe even everything.

But it was clear to him that you knew nothing of his feelings. That, or you simply didn’t return them.

"You've gotta be fսcking kidding me." Grumbled Ellie as she looked up at the old building.

Fungus had enveloped most of the front of the structure. You could already picture how it looked inside. Bodies permanently fused the walls and floors. Their expressions set in stone for the rest of time.

"Well, there's a way across from the top floor." Tess stated as Joel started to inspect the Museum entrance before glancing at you.

You hadn't looked at him since leaving the hotel. Rolling his shoulders back and schooled his features, returning his attention to the fungus-covered building.

"Well, then I guess it's fine."

You smirked at Ellie's sarcastic reply, knowing how riled up Joel would be by it. The man appeared to be all stoicism and few words but in reality, it was easy to push his buttons.

"We used to take it all the time." You piped up, looking at the teenager.

"Okay."

"Look it was fine." Tess continued but Ellie cut her off with her one-word response.

"Awesome."

You finally turned your attention to Joel who was inspecting the fungus more closely. Knocking it a few times with the butt of his gun before turning to look at you all again.

"It's bone dry." He stated as he made his way back over to Tess' side, the two of them sharing a look that had the green monster inside of you flaring its nostrils.

"It could mean they're all finally dead in there." He suggested and Tess nodded before glancing at you.

It was the first time since leaving the hotel that you'd studied his expression and your brows drew together as you studied the sudden soulful look he was giving you. You allowed yourself, just for a moment, to believe that he was looking at you that way because he cared about you. You knew that you were little more than a sidekick and an occasional release for this man.

The release part had been a more common occurrence lately. How it had started was still a little fuzzy. The two of you had come close to death, had gotten drunk and fucked each other's brains out. Then, when Tess was indisposed, he'd come to you for an escape from the real world and you'd taken what you could get.

Then something changed and you spent most evenings in each other's beds. You'd hated how easily you had allowed him to use you but you had fallen for him. So you let it happen over and over, simply to have something. Even if it hurt you, body and soul.

You'd barely had a moment to react to the sound of your door opening and closing before Joel was on you. Normally you would be quick to respond to his needy kisses but that evening you weren't and he noticed it straight away.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pulling back to look at you properly "You been drinking?"

"So what if I have?" You asked, pushing him off of you and reaching for the whiskey on your side table "HEY!" You growled when he snatched it from you and took a swig.

"Need to catch up." He grumbled and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Bad day?"

"Could say that." He lamented, taking another long pull before handing it to you.

The two of you shared the bottle before he was kissing you again but it was different to before. He took his time, his hands tracing your curves as his lips painted your flesh with his passion. Clothes were removed and then his mouth devoured your sex. This was new. He'd never done this to you before and as his tongue played you perfectly, you wondered, why now?

His thick fingers pushing into your heat had you hurtling towards your climax. Joel crooked his fingers perfectly, fingertips brushing against that spongy spot inside that no one had ever reached before and you came with a cry.

"Mmmm, I love the sounds you make when you cum." He purred as he situated himself between your thighs.

You grinned up at him as you allowed your feelings for him to leak out. The expression was quickly wiped from your face when he pushed his throbbing length into you.

"Fuck." You choked, throwing your head back and baring your neck at him.

He nipped and kissed the flesh there as he thrust languidly in and out of you. The usual frenzied sex you shared was replaced with something slower and so much more passionate. He hit your sweet spot over and over as his tongue danced with yours. His hips grinding into you were all it took to have you cumming around him and he growled in your ear as his release took hold of him and he painted your walls with his spent.

That night you fell asleep in each other's arms and you woke up to him holding you against his firm body. You smiled at the sound of his soft snores before your head and allowed yourself to revel in the feel of this domestic moment because you knew the moment he woke up... It would be over.

You were dragged from your memory by Joel calling after you. Standing at the door with his gun in hand you nodded and made your way over to him. You walked passed him without a glance, your own gun now firmly clasped in your hands.

Torches brought to light that the museum looked exactly how you had pictured it. The building creaked and groaned from the weight of the dead fungus and you wondered how much longer the structure could handle it.

"Yeah... cooked." Joel stated as his torch illuminated the petrified remains of an infected victim.

"Oh, finally, some fuckin' luck." Said Tess as she winked at Ellie.

"I guess we should've gone this way in the first place.." Joel uttered as he stepped further in and you rolled your eyes at his statement.

Hindsight was a wonderful thing.

"Oh shit!" Yelped Ellie and you sprinted to her side to see a fresh corpse, flesh cut to ribbons "What the fuck did that?"

"Maybe..." Tess trailed off, her breathing picking up as she looked from you to Joel "maybe he was attacked outside, and crawled through the doors." She whispered and both you and Ellie turned to look at her "The door was open... Could've been him."

Ellie gave you a panicked look before returning her attention to Tess and Joel.

"I don't hear anything."

"Who would you hear?" Ellie asked and Joel was quick to shush her "Who would you hear?" She repeated in a hushed tone.

Joel glanced at you a moment. You looked scared and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He then looked back at the teenager who was looking at him for answers.

"Are you saying an Infected did that?"

"Shhh."

"Because I've been attacked by one and it wasn't like that." Ellie uttered as she glanced back at the body.

"Okay, from this point forward, we are silent. Not quite... Silent." Joel instructed as he looked between you, Ellie and Tess.

"What..."

"No. No questions. Just do it."

There was no room for argument. You all followed him up the stairs without question and what greeted you, would haunt your nightmares for years to come. You were split from Joel the moment a clicker came screaming at you. The last time you saw him, he was battling one on his own whilst Tess and Ellie ran for cover.

When you found each other again, it was in the attic of the museum. You couldn't stop yourself from pulling Joel into a hug when he sprinted into view with Ellie at his side but then Tess stepped in and you pulled away. You didn't look at him as you climbed out the window and sprint across the makeshift bridge beyond. You hated the fact you'd let your feelings control your actions but you'd just been so happy to see him. You heard Ellie speaking behind you but you kept your attention fixed on the view.

"You're in love with him aren't you." She asked out of the blue and you glanced at her a second before looking back to the derelict skyline.

"Pass."

"God, you all really hate talking about your feelings huh?" Ellie scoffed and you allowed yourself to smile at her comment a moment before your shoulders tensed as Joel stepped up beside Ellie.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" He asked the teenager, glancing at you and then at her.

"Jury's still out." She replied as she looked out at the cityscape "But, man, you can't deny that view."

"Should have seen it when the buildings were still standing." You chuffed, remembering how it looked when you'd visited with your parents. You'd been just a few years older than her, there visiting your aunt who'd lived in an apartment building that was now reduced to little more than shattered glass.

"C'mon, let's get there before it's dark." Ordered Tess as she stomped past the three of you and after a short glance at Joel you followed the older woman wordlessly.

The walk gave you time to think. In a few minutes, you would be handing Ellie over to the Fireflies. You had told Joel that after this, you were done. You just weren't sure you could really leave the man who owned you body and soul. Then when you glanced at him and noted the look he and Tess shared, you decided you had to.

After today... You and Joel were done. You wouldn't be following him into certain danger ever again.

How wrong you were going to be.

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allfoolsinluv · 1 year

Text

Closer

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel grow closer after you arrive in Boston.

Word Count: 5.4k

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Minors DNI.

Warnings: canon-typical violence/death, assault, lil bit of angst, lowkey pining, getting together, fwb-to-lovers, soft!Joel Miller, alcohol consumption and drug use, explicit sex (fingering, unprotected p-in-v, f receiving oral, lil bit of consenual somno, dom/sub vibes, dom!Joel, sub!reader, teasing, rough sex, spit play, come play, dirty talk like WHOA, soft aftercare, i thiiiiiiink that's it idk i might have missed something bc there is A LOT here ok)

A/N: ok so i saw this gifset and the last gif took me OUT then I heard Closer by Nine Inch Nails on tik tok and my inner whore took over and she wrote this. The chokehold this man has on me is REAL and MIGHTY. anywho my first pedro boy fic! huge huge HUGE shoutout & thank u to @pedrito-friskito for looking this over for me 🥺💗 luv u bby

masterlist

Things between you and Joel had started out simple enough.

You’d met him not long after you’d arrived in Boston, during your first shift disposing of infected bodies. He kept to himself, not interacting with you beyond a curt nod of acknowledgment when you introduced yourself at the beginning of the day. But you hadn’t missed the way his eyes stayed on you throughout your shared shift. His gaze was curious, almost, like he was studying you. You hadn’t blamed him for it, even though he did kind of make you feel like a bug under a microscope; you were a newcomer, and newcomers often meant trouble. He hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that took too kindly to trouble.

The next few shifts you’d spent beside him went much like the first. He’d barely speak to you—if he even spoke at all—and kept an eye on you as you worked. As your time in Boston went on and as you continued to work more shifts with him, the intensity he watched you with seemed to lessen. For whatever reason, Joel Miller decided you weren’t a threat.

He’d warmed up to you after that, as much as it was possible for him to warm up to anybody. He would no longer ignore your greetings, offering you gruff heys and hellos. He’d sit with you in silence whenever you were allowed to take a break from working. He'd even started to walk you home after your shifts. When you'd asked him why the first time it happened, he'd told you that your apartment was on his way home. You wouldn’t have called yourselves friends, per se, but you both were definitely more agreeable with each other than you were with anybody else in Boston.

He was with you the first time you saw a public execution take place in the city center. One of your neighbors had been caught outside past curfew one too many times, an offense she would pay for with her life. You hadn’t known her very well, but hearing her name be called out and watching her life end before your very eyes was enough to break something in you. You’d been delusional to think that things on the inside were going to be any better than they were on the outside.

Joel watched you watching your neighbor hang, taking note of the way your eyes widened and your breath drew short at the sight. When her body stopped flailing and the life had finally been drained from her, he placed a rough hand on your shoulder. When you startled at the contact and turned to look at him, he nodded his head in the direction of your apartments.

“Come on,” he’d said. You’d simply nodded in response, following him out of the crowd and away from your dead neighbor.

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence, not much different than when he’d walk you home any other day. When you got to your apartment building, though, he didn’t stop like he normally did. He kept walking until he realized you were no longer next to him.

“You coming or what?” he asked, head cocked and a hand on his hip. You’d looked between him and your building in confusion.

“This is my apartment.”

“Yeah,” he said as he approached you once again. “But we’re making a stop at mine first. Got something for you.”

The thought of Joel Miller having something for you sent a flurry of nerves and butterflies swirling in your stomach. It’d been so long since you had any kind of companionship, it was nice to be thought of by someone else. You tried not to let your emotions show as you nodded your head.

“Okay, then. Lead the way.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when Joel had told you he had something for you, but whiskey and some pills weren’t it. Not that you were going to complain about them, though—it’d been too long since you’d had or done anything to turn your brain off. He didn’t say anything as he poured each of you a glass and put a pill in your hand. You’d swallowed the pill and the whiskey in one go. Joel poured you another glass without question.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, side-by-side on his couch as you drank. The whiskey had burned as it went down your throat and settled into your stomach. It felt good.

After you’d polished off your third glass, you put the cup on the table in front of you with a heavy sigh. You sunk back into the couch and closed your eyes, saying softly, “This place is a fucking nightmare.”

The feeling of Joel’s hand on your thigh made your eyes pop open. You’d looked down at his hand on your leg, your breath hitching at the sight. When you looked up, you found him already looking at you, the pain in his eyes evident. “It is.”

You fucked for the first time on his couch that day. The whiskey and the pill and the vulnerability had loosened you both up enough to just let go. He’d pulled you into his lap, shoved his hand into your jeans, and made you come on his fingers before he pulled your pants down your legs and fucked every thought out of your head.

When it was over, after he’d made you come again and pulled out to finish in his fist, you’d climbed off of him and sat back, catching your breath. He’d cleaned his hand off and silently reached over to help you pull your jeans back into place. He’d stood from the couch and held out a hand to pull you up. It went without saying that he’d walk you home.

It went on like that for a while. Whenever things became too much for either of you or the thoughts in your heads got too loud, you’d find each other and drown out the noise with whiskey, pills, and sex. It was far from romantic—you never stayed long after it was over, it was never soft or sweet, he’d never even kissed you —but it didn’t need to be. There was no place for romance in the world you lived in.

Things changed, though, the day you were jumped and nearly left for dead on the street.

It’d been one of the rare days in which you worked a shift without Joel, the availability of jobs just not lining up to pair the two of you together. You were cutting it close to curfew, the sun steadily setting as you made your way back to your apartment. You were only a couple of blocks away from home when it happened.

You hadn’t noticed you were being followed until it was too late. Large, rough hands grabbed your body and pulled you roughly into an alleyway. You tried to push the guy off, swinging your elbow back into his gut, kicking your feet out to throw him off balance. It was no use, though—he threw you to the ground, hard, as if you’d weighed nothing to him.

You hit the ground with a huff, the shock and pain of it dulling your reflexes enough to allow him to get on top of you before you could pull yourself up and scramble away. You finally saw his face, the light gone from his eyes as he gripped the lapels of your jacket and shook you.

“Give me your ration cards, bitch,” he seethed at you. You didn’t even know this guy and here he was, shaking you down as if you owed him something.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face.

He hadn’t taken too kindly to your disrespect, letting go of one side of your jacket to punch you in the face. The feeling of his knuckles connecting with the skin of your cheek and taste of blood on your tongue made you groan. He’d pulled his arm back to throw another punch, but before his fist even had the chance to come into contact with you again, the weight of his body was thrown off of you.

When you’d looked up at the scene unfolding in front of you, the last person you’d expected to see was Joel. There he was, on top of your attacker just like he’d been on top of you, delivering blow after blow to his face. You’d never seen him like that before, lost to the violence, although you’d known he was capable of it. It didn’t scare you like you might’ve thought it would. It was almost comforting, in a way, to know what he’d be willing to do to protect you.

Just when you’d begun to think that Joel wouldn’t stop until the man was dead, he’d grabbed him by the collar and brought him close to his face. “If I ever see you around her again, you’re a dead man. You understand me?”

Weakly, the man had nodded his head, a wet cough bubbling out of his throat. Joel released him roughly as the man spit up blood onto the asphalt below him. He turned to you, the fury leaving his eyes in an instant as he took in your disheveled state.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, rushing over to help you up. You stood with a wince, grateful he was letting you rest most of your weight against him as he held you and guided you out of the alleyway. “Need to get you off the streets before curfew.”

He guided you to your apartment, getting you both inside and locking the door behind you with just a few minutes to spare. You plopped down onto the couch with a groan while Joel grabbed your bottle of whiskey and the only rag you had to clean up your busted lip and the cut on your cheek. It was silent as he worked, save for the initial hiss of pain you’d let out when the alcohol first touched your open wounds. He was gentle with you, gentler than you thought him capable of.

When he finished, he dropped the rag onto the ground and cupped your face in both of his hands. The two of you had stared at each other for a long moment before he’d sighed, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours. Your eyes had fluttered shut as you felt his breath fan out against your face, your hands coming up to take ahold of his wrists.

“I should have been with you,” he whispered roughly. You shook your head at that, opening your eyes to find his screwed tightly shut. He kept talking, “I was outside your door, waitin’ for you to get back, but when you didn’t show up, I knew something was wrong. I should have just fucking been there to walk you home, to keep you safe.” Your hands moved up his arms to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling lightly in the curls of his hair.

“You were, Joel,” you whispered back, his eyes opening to meet yours, seeing the sincerity in them. “You saved me. Protected me. You were there when I needed you.”

He kissed you, then. He pulled you in close to him, softly pressing his lips to yours, mindful of the cut there. Your eyes had closed again, and you couldn’t have stopped the soft whimper you let out at the feeling of his lips against yours even if you had tried.

Sex with him was different that night. He carried you to your bed and stripped you slowly, taking in the sight of your body underneath him. He hadn’t been rough or hard or fast. It was soft and almost syrupy sweet, the way he held you and made you come apart with his fingers and his cock. His lips never strayed too far from yours, as if the thought of not kissing you while he fucked you was too painful to bear. You hadn’t minded it, though—you’d felt the same way.

When it was over, he cleaned you up and helped you re-dress. After he put his own clothes back on, he crawled back into your bed and pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drifted to sleep with your head against his chest. As you fell asleep, you knew in the back of your mind that things between the two of you would never be the same come morning time.

You became his and he became yours.

Nearly eight months had passed since that night. Now, you’ve abandoned your apartment for someone else to take over, having moved all of your meager belongings into Joel’s place. You spent most of your little free time there anyways, and he felt more at ease knowing that you were coming home to him, instead of by yourself.

It’s a rare day in which neither of you were able to pick up a shift, all of the work slots for the day having been filled before either of you had gotten a chance to sign up for something. Not that either of you mind it, though—sometimes it’s nice to have a day off to spend together.

Joel, apparently, has been planning on making the most of your day off. He wakes you up with his tongue between your thighs and his hands holding your hips down on the ratty mattress. You come quickly, nearly reaching your peak while still half asleep, and the force of your orgasm hitting you fully wakes you up. He places soft kisses to the insides of your trembling thighs, looking up at you with an almost boyish glint in his eyes as you huff out a soft laugh.

“Well, good morning to you, Mr. Miller,” you say with a smile, one of your hands drifting down to cup his cheek.

He grins at you—a rare sight these days—as he turns his head to place a wet kiss to the inside of your palm. “Mornin’. Nice wake-up call?”

“The best,” you giggle, moving your hand up into his hair and giving it a tug. He groans at the feeling, his eyes going a little glassy. “Now come up here and kiss me.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He moves up your body, placing soft nips and kisses to your skin over the thin t-shirt you’re wearing. When he reaches your mouth, you kisses you fully and deeply, wasting no time in letting his tongue trace your bottom lip. You open up to him eagerly, moaning into him at the feeling of his tongue against yours.

He kisses you until you can’t breathe, only pulling away when you tug harshly on his hair. A thin string of saliva connects your lips to his, and he watches with rapt attention as your tongue pokes out to wipe it away. When his eyes finally flick back up to reach yours, you hit him with a playfully questioning glare.

“How’d you get my pants off without waking me up, anyways?”

He grins at you again as he grinds his own denim-clad hips down against yours, the rough material catching against your clit just right to pull a soft, needy moan from your lips. Joel bends down to kiss you again, laughing softly when you chase his lips as he pulls away.

“I have my ways, darlin’.” He plucks at your shirt and asks, “Can I take the rest of it off now?”

With a nod, you lift your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the fabric from your body. Once your shirt is off and on the floor, Joel moves to unclasp your bra, but you playfully swat at his hand and shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you gotta take somethin’ off first. You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you but complies with your request, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing both his jeans and his underwear off. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, gloriously naked in front of you. His cock is hard and flushed red, a pearl of pre-come beading at the tip. You sit up on the bed, preparing to lean forward and take him into your mouth, the thought of tasting him practically making you drool. He stops you though, pushing lightly on your shoulder until you’re laying back down, allowing him to crawl over you once more.

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, mocking your earlier tone. “Now who’s wearing too many clothes?”

You huff and quickly remove your bra, throwing it to the ground with the rest of your discard clothes. Once you’re finally fully naked, you try to reach out and take him in your hand. He’s faster than you though, taking both of your wrists in one of his and pinning them above your head.

He bends down to nudge your nose with his, angling your mouth just right for him to kiss you. It’s so sensual, the way he easily slips his tongue into your mouth and takes your breath for his own. You could kiss him for hours. He pulls away and starts to pepper soft kisses across your cheek and down your jaw, until his lips reach your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want later, baby, I promise. I’ll put my cock in your pretty little mouth and let you suck your fill,” he rasps into your ear, the roughness of his whisper and the promise of his words sending a shiver down your spine and whimper out of your mouth. “But that’s not what I want right now. D’ya wanna know what I want?”

He sits up to look at you, his pupils blown wide as he takes in your trembling figure. You let out a soft yes as you nod your head.

“Right now, I wanna feel your pussy come all over my fingers. Then, when you’re nice and wet and fuckin’ gagging for it, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you, real slow, and fuck you until you cry. When you just can’t take anymore, I wanna pull out and come all over your pretty tits. Can I do that to you, darlin’? Will you let me?”

You’re uncomfortably wet, can feel your slick practically leaking out of you and sliding down to wet the sheet underneath you. The arousal his words have stirred up in your belly is nearly unbearable, and you almost headbutt him with the force in which you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes, Joel, you can. You can do it all, whatever you want.”

He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss you again, quick and dirty. “Barely even touched you, and you’ve already gone cockdumb. My needy girl.” His eyes flick up to where he’s still holding your hands above your head. “If I let you go, are you gonna behave?”

“I’ll be good, Joel, promise,” you say quickly.

He nods once and lets go of your wrists, looking pointedly at you to make sure you keep them there. Once he’s sure you’re not going to try and get ahead of yourself, he lets himself touch you. His rough hands drag down your arms and to your ribcage, his thumbs lightly stroking your skin. He slides his palms up to cup both of your breasts, his thumbs now working over your nipples in light strokes. The moan that you let out would have embarassed you if you weren’t so turned on. You start to squirm as Joel gets a little bit rougher with you, but you obey his silent command to keep your hands where they are.

You almost grab at him when he leans down to take the hardened bud of one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling sloppily around it while he rolls and pinches the other between his fingers. You catch yourself at the last second, though, stopping yourself from winding your fingers into his hair.

Joel lets go of your nipple with a lewd pop and kisses his way back up to your mouth while his hands slides down your body. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth at the same time he cups your pussy, sliding his middle finger through your wet folds. He chuckles darkly at the way your hips buck against him and how you struggle to keep your hands where he told you.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs against your cheek, pecking you there. “Let’s see if I can make an ever bigger mess a’ya.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he easily slides two of his fingers inside of you. Your cunt clenches at the feeling of him working you open, his fingers move in slow, even strokes.

“Feels good, don’t it, honey?” Joel teases. “You like the way I fuck you with my fingers?”

You whimper in response, nodding your head weakly. He angles his hand to rub against the spot that nearly knocks the breath from you, his palm grinding against your clit. Your back arches off the bed with a hoarse shout of Joel’s name. He groans against your skin at the way you tighten around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Joel, please,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in time with his fingers. He uses his free hand to push you back down against the bed, keeping you from moving further. Joel leans down to nuzzle your throat, nipping lightly at the delicate skin there. He looks up at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Please what? Use your words for me, honey.”

You can’t help the whine of frustration you let out as you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s hard for you to find words when he’s fucking you so well with his fingers.

Joel slows his fingers nearly to a stop and your eyes pop back open in a panic. His face is stern as you rush to say, “Wait, no, no, no, please, don’t stop, I—”

“Use. Your. Words. What do you need?”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. “Can I touch you? Please? I promise I’ll be good, I just… I wanna feel you.”

Joel smiles at you now, leaning down to place a quick kiss to your lips. “Hands in my hair, honey. Keep ‘em there, understand?”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. As soon as the words have left his lips, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again. It’s filthy, all tongues and teeth. Joel starts to move his fingers inside of you again, gradually picking up the pace until he’s back to his original speed. You moan into his mouth, your brows furrowed in pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm building in your core, the coil winding tighter and tighter as Joel’s fingers work inside of you. Joel pulls away from your lips, letting you guide him to rest forehead against yours. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to, wanting to watch the way he watches you. He looks almost as far gone as you feel.

“I can tell you’re close,” Joel rasps. “Your pussy’s squeezing my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock. You gonna come for me, sweet thing?”

He starts to move his fingers a little faster, rubbing against you a little bit harder. The extra friction tears a sob from your throat. You can’t help the way a few tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure Joel is giving you bordering on overwhelming. Your orgasm is so close, your body tightening against him while your thighs starts to shake from the sensation. You nod your head, a whispering chant of yeses falling from your lips.

“Go on then, baby. Come for me.”

Joel's words send you over the edge, coming hard around his fingers and pulling almost painfully at his hair. Your moans are obscenely loud, and if you had any wits left about you, you’d be embarrassed by your volume. But you don’t and you’re not. The only thing you care about in this moment is the feeling of Joel’s fingers working you through an earth-shattering orgasm, the pleasure flowing all throughout your body. You don’t even notice the tears that have fallen from your eyes until Joel’s kissed them away.

You whimper as Joel slowly pulls his fingers from you once your body has settled back down and your breathing has returned to normal. You release the grip you have on his hair, letting your hands drift down the sides of his neck to curl around his shoulders. He holds his hand up for you to see, his fingers wet with you. You watch, mesmerized, as he spreads his fingers, your slick webbing between them.

"Look at what a pretty mess you made of my hand," he murmurs as his eyes move from his fingers to you. "Better clean it up, yeah?"

Silently, you nod your head and Joel begins to lower his fingers to your mouth. He starts softly, running his fingers along your bottom lip, coating it with you. When your mouth falls open with a pant, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers inside, rubbing along your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers with a whimper, relishing in the groan he lets out as you suck them clean.

He’s panting almost as hard as you are by the time he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You can tell he’s reached the end of his rope, has worked himself up almost too much teasing and playing with you. He takes his cock in his hand, hissing as he strokes himself a few times.

“Gotta fuck you now, honey,” he says roughly as he lines himself up at your entrance.

“Please, Joel,” you whimper, attempting to lift your hips to pull him into you. “I want it. Please.”

Joel practically growls as he pushes into you, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt. Your nails dig sharply into the skin of his shoulders, your back arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips. Joel is big, and no matter how much he preps you, how wet he makes you, the feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is always overwhelming.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him. His breathing is ragged, and you know it’s only a matter of seconds before he loses control and fucks you within an inch of your life. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He meets your eyes, takes in the way you can barely keep them open, how your mouth is open as you try to catch your breath, the way your lips are a little swollen from the kisses and bites he’s given you. When you sluggishly blink back him and give him a blissed-out smile, he’s done for.

He pulls out nearly all the way before snapping his hips forward, hard, the force of it making you yelp and cling to him even further. The pace he sets is brutal, and you feel your body moving up the mattress with every stroke. Joel grunts above you, reaching one hand down to grip your thigh and pull your leg up higher on his torso. It allows him to hit inside of you even deeper, almost impossibly so, the change in angle making you clench around him.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re—” Joel grits out from behind his teeth, cutting himself with a shout when you clench around him again. “Fucking hell, you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

He trails his hand from your thigh and up the side of your body, the feeling of his hand moving against your skin making you break out in goosebumps. His hand grips either side of your jaw, and with what little brain power you have left, you’re captivating by how big hands are.

Your train of thought is broken, though, by Joel’s face coming closer to yours. You think he’s holding you in place to kiss you, but instead his fingers squeeze, forcing your mouth open.

“Stick your tongue out,” he pants at you. When you don’t comply right away, his order taking a moment longer than it normally would to process in your brain, he squeezes you harder, nearly snarling, “Now.”

You stick your tongue out and when you do, Joel leans down and spits into your mouth. Your eyes go wide at the feeling of it on your tongue, a wrecked moan slipping out. He lets go of your jaw and instead shoves his fingers back into your mouth, his digits moving in time with his hips. You gag a little on his fingers, a few more tears building and falling from the corner of your eyes in quick succession.

When Joel pulls them out, a trail of your spit connects his fingers to your lips. He grumbles a rough “fuck,” before moving his hand down to where your bodies are connected. His spit-slick fingers begin to rub fast circles against your aching clit, the shock of it making you shout and tighten around him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Joel,” you cry out. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, I’m so close.”

“Not gonna stop. Need to feel you come around my cock. Come on, baby. Let me have it.”

“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you moan with a nod. Your orgasm had been building steadily, each of Joel’s rough thrusts dragging perfectly against your walls to send you higher and higher. With his slick fingers now on your clit, you felt you could snap at any moment.

Joel must’ve felt it before you did, yours walls tightening like a vice around him, making his hips stutter and pulling a low groan from his chest. Your whole body tenses up beneath him, the air knocked from your lungs, before everything releases. The waves of pleasure rolling through your body are intense and overwhelming, a wailing moan falling from your lips. You’re practically sobbing beneath him, unable to hear him talk you through it over the pounding in your ears.

He works you through it as best as he can, only managing to stay inside of you for a few more thrusts before the feeling of your fluttering cunt becomes too much for him. He pulls out of you abruptly and takes himself in his hand, working his cock as he lets your legs fall back down to the bed and quickly shuffles up your body to straddle your torso.

“Look’it you, all pretty and fucked out for me,” Joel grunts, his fist working his cock faster and faster. “You always take me so well. Let me use you how I want. God, you’re fucking—” His hips stutter and he moves to grip the base of his cock as he lets go, coming over your tits. You moan as the feeling of his warm spend hits your chest. A flicker of arousal lights in your core at the sight of him marking you.

“Perfect,” he finishes with a groan, stroking himself a few final times. When he’s milked his cock dry, he turns and flops down next to you on the bed, gathering you into his arms and pulling you against him. He doesn’t care that his come hasn’t even finished drying against your skin, that it’s getting all over him. All he wants right now—knows all you need right now—is for him to hold you in his arms. He leans down to press a few soft kisses to the crown of your head.

The two of you are silent for a while, taking the time to bask in the after glow and let your hearts and breathing return to normal. You snuggle down further into Joel’s chest, feeling your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. You blink slowly a few times, letting them fall shut.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, honey?” Joel asks you, the soft rumble of his voice lulling you even further.

You hum wordlessly, too exhuasted to try and formulate a response. His soft chuckle jostles you a little, but he settles quickly, pecking your head once again.

“Get some rest while you can, baby. ‘Cause it’s still early, and I ain’t done with you yet.”

It’s going to be a long day off for you.

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

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bumblesimagines · 1 month

Text

Our Flickering Light

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"You ever been this far from home?"

"Ellie."

"What? I'm just asking!"

There was something humorous in the way Ellie and Joel treated each other. The exasperation that weighed heavy on Joel's face whenever she so much as opened her mouth and the smugness that twinkled in her eyes when she saw Joel roll his eyes or purse his lips in annoyance. (Y/N) couldn't blame him much. The moment Lincoln had disappeared out of view, Ellie had leaned forward and shoved herself between the two seats, firing off question after question. For a girl with the fate of the world resting solely on her shoulders, she sure had a lot of energy and excitement. (Y/N) wondered if he'd been like her back then. Full of curiosity and awe.

"It's fine, Joel." (Y/N) dismissed with a soft chuckle and a wave of his hand. Joel glanced at him, furrowed brows full of uncertainty and even a hint of a warning of what was to come if he gave Ellie the green light to ask questions. (Y/N) smiled at the older man and Joel looked back at the road, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. He gave a small nod and Ellie beamed, once again wedging herself between the seats and making Joel click his tongue in disapproval.

"So, have you?" Ellie asked, her dark brown eyes wide and full of barely contained curiosity.

"I wasn't born in Lincoln, Ellie." (Y/N) chuckled at the quiet 'oh' that fell from her lips and her cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, one finger lifting to sheepishly scratch the side of her head. "My mom and I were originally from Frederick, Maryland. We were able to get to the Baltimore QZ before it began turning people away. It's how we met Frank. We stayed there for a good... Jesus, I don't know, four or five years?"

"Why'd you leave?" Ellie blinked and cocked her head to the side, loose strands of her hair swaying over her pale skin. (Y/N) noticed Joel glance over Ellie's head, just as curious as the girl he'd previously scolded. (Y/N) exhaled through his nose and gazed back out to the long road ahead.

"It fell. None of us really knew why, but Frank said the day before it happened there'd been rumors about a breach in one of the walls that FEDRA couldn't be bothered to fix. The next day the QZ was in utter chaos. People were either panicking, stealing, getting trampled, or getting shot down by soldiers. Frank and his neighbor, Kelly, got us and we fled the QZ with a few other survivors." (Y/N) explained solemnly, the screams of citizens attempting to find safety still ringing as clear as day in his ears. "We traveled a week by foot trying to get to Boston since THE Philadelphia QZ only lasted two years and they were never able to clear any part of New York City to get one set up. We were a group of ten but by the time we got to Lincoln, it was only Frank, my mom, and me."

"Wait, so, you could've been in Boston with us? And you were born before the outbreak? But you look so young!" Ellie gaped at him and Joel snorted quietly, the muscles on his face straining to keep him from smiling at her words.

"I'm only twenty-nine, Ellie." (Y/N) laughed and her eyes widened further. "I was nine when the outbreak happened."

(Y/N) watched the teen boys bounce the basketball around in the road, their laughter echoing down the street and mixing in with the distant sound of honking. His mother stood by the dining room table with her phone in hand and pressed against her ear, reciting the address to the pizza place staff member. Her other hand ran circles around the barely there bump and her attention jumped between answering questions and looking at the clock.

"Can I go outside?" (Y/N) asked into his folded arms, his legs beginning to ache from standing at the window for so long. The basketball slammed into the board and bounced off the rim of the basket. A chorus of groans and laughter followed. "I'll stay in the driveway."

"It's dark out, sweets. Those boys will be heading to bed soon, anyway." Rose said as she set her phone on the dining table and approached him, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. She smiled warmly down at him. "I'm sure if you ask Jonah tomorrow, he'll teach you how to play, alright?"

"Okay." (Y/N) sighed. "When is Brent-"

There was a sudden, distant explosion outside, close and loud enough to make the windows in the house shake and set off car alarms throughout the neighborhood. The neighborhood boys outside shouted and screamed in surprise, their long game of basketball abruptly forgotten in favor of turning around to watch a firey cloud rise into the air. Rose instinctively brought (Y/N) closer to her and grabbed the curtain to tug it further from the window.

"Oh, my god," She whispered and took his hand, clutching it tightly as they left the kitchen and opened the front door, stepping out onto their porch. (Y/N) could hear the porch swing still creaking from the force of the explosion and he leaned into the skirt of his mother's dress, peeking out from behind her legs. "Jonah, Tyler, you boys okay?! The rest of you need to get home right now!"

"Was that the gas station?" Jonah asked, holding his basketball tight to his chest as the rest of his friends scrambled to collect their things and call home. Tyler wasted no time in running across the street to his house and quickly heading inside the small house while his aunt's car blared in the driveway.

"You boys get to your parents, now!" A new, deeper voice boomed from next door and (Y/N) peered around his mother to look at their next-door neighbor, an intimidating veteran whom Brent enjoyed calling a 'hermit'. (Y/N) hardly ever heard him speak seeing as the man, Steven, spent most of his time out hunting or locked away in his run-down, unkept house. Steven turned to them, his white tank top soaked in sweat, and he hurried down his creaky porch steps to approach them.

"Steven, what's going on?"

"Rose, sweetheart, get your boy and pack some things, alright? There was a national alert on the radio-" Another explosion, one closer to the city.

(Y/N)'s body began to tremble and he clung tighter on his mother. Rose spun on her heel and hauled (Y/N) up into her arms, everything in his sight becoming a dark blur of their familiar living room and hallway. She set him down in front of his bedroom door and hurried inside, her swift hands snatching his school backpack from the floor and turning it upside down so everything inside clattered to the floor. She grabbed fistfuls of clothes from shirts, pants, and underwear before stuffing the free pockets of small books and toys.

"Here, baby, here." Rose returned to him and he stuck his arms through the gaps, feeling the straps weighing heavily down on his shoulders. (Y/N) watched her head down to hers and Brent's shared bedroom and heard her rummage through things as she'd done in his bedroom. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his pajamas. He faced his bedroom again and approached his toy box, lifting the top open and sorting through his toys until he found Mr. Flops, his old favorite stuffed bunny that he'd hidden away after hearing some boys make fun of Gracie in class for still having a teddy bear.

"(Y/N), sweets, come on." His mother stood in the doorway with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She extended her hand out toward him and smiled encouragingly, wiggling her fingers until he took her hand again. Rose moved down the hallway again and reached the front door before stopping to scribble something down on the notepad she kept by the key holder. (Y/N) tightened his grip on her palm when they stepped outside and spotted Steven hauling some things into the back of his truck.

"Hurry, Rose!" He called and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight of the shotgun strapped to his shoulder. Rose sighed quietly, locking the front door and gliding down the steps with her son in tow. She took the two bags and squeezed them into the small backseat, ensuring they'd remain still and not squish (Y/N) at any rapid turn during the ride.

"Where are we going?" He asked tentatively and peered up at his mother.

"I-"

"Shit," Steven hissed, and (Y/N) turned around to see Tyler rushing out of his house only to trip on the last step and fall into the grass by the driveway. His aunt staggered out of the house after him, her body movements jerky and weird, both limp and stiff. Tyler scrambled on the grass that had been wet by the sprinklers only minutes before the first explosion, the slippery grass preventing him from getting back on his feet. "Get in the truck, now."

"It's just Becca, Steven," Rose said breathlessly, her hands reaching out toward her son to pull him close.

"No, sweetheart," Steven sighed and lifted the shotgun, pointing it directly in Mrs. Gorman's direction. His finger slipped over the trigger. "That's not her anymore."

"What happened to Steven?" Ellie asked gently, her head fully propped up on her fist as she stared at him, completely engrossed by the story. A grimace had appeared on Joel's face toward the end, an all too knowing look passing over his dark eyes. The panic, confusion, the way the world turned upside down in a matter of hours... it was something the new generation of children like Ellie never got to experience. Instead of knowing the joy of running around freely, of visiting different cities and states. All they knew was the fear and death that followed.

"I don't know," (Y/N) admitted softly. "But knowing him... he's probably still around trying to help people."

"I bet he and Joel would've been buds," Ellie said, slumping back in her seat and wiggling closer to the window, propping one arm along it and staring out at the passing scenery. (Y/N) exhaled in amusement and glanced at Joel when the older man rolled his eyes, still as silent as always. What a pair they made. A young chatterbox and an older man who could spend days without speaking. But it was part of his charm, in a way. Silent but always observing, always watching over everyone.

"Looks like a gas station up ahead," Joel murmured gruffly, pointing out the tall sign in the distance. (Y/N) could see abandoned cars scattered around, many of them long overtaken by nature. The station itself appeared in similar conditions, worn down and overgrown. No sign of infected around. "We'll pull over for a little while and get some gas. Use the bathroom if you have to. We ain't stoppin' until we need to again, alright?"

"Yep." Ellie sighed, reaching for her backpack and slipping her arms through the straps.

Slowly pulling over and stopping the truck, the three hopped out of the truck and surveyed their surroundings. Joel cautiously stepped forward, fingers tightly wrapped around his pistol and his head on a swivel, turning sharply whenever he heard the faintest sounds. (Y/N) shifted around the strap of his sniper rifle and walked toward the gas station, hearing the soft patter of Ellie following after him. He pushed the dirty glass door open and peeked inside, waiting for movement or noise before stepping inside fully and looking around the store. It appeared largely empty and scarce, anything still up on the shelves or fallen on the ground either rotten or useless.

(Y/N) headed further into the store and purposefully kicked a can, listening to it rattle against the tile floor and fall into silence once it hit the wall. Nothing. No sound of any animals scurrying to hide, no infected crawling out from the darkness. For safe measure, he checked each room, only finding a long-decayed corpse in the storage closet and a caved-in bathroom. With no urge to release his bladder, he turned toward Ellie and smiled. "Seems safe enough. If you need to go, go ahead. Holler if you need or see anything, 'kay?"

"Gotcha." Ellie nodded and returned the smile, sliding the backpack off her shoulders and walking further into the bathroom. She set her backpack on the sink and glanced at him as he turned to leave. "Good luck with Joel." She told him with a playful grin and unzipped her backpack.

Chuckling, (Y/N) nodded and headed back into the store, checking behind the register for anything they'd need before leaving the store completely and heading toward Joel who'd taken it upon himself to siphon gas from the old cars. (Y/N) adjusted the rifle's strap again so it hung at his side instead of his chest and squinted through the glaring sun to watch Joel work. "Ellie's using the bathroom." He informed him, hearing a soft hum of acknowledgment.

"(Y/N)..." Joel began with a heavy sigh, pushing himself off his knee and picking up the gas canister from the ground. His lips pressed together, his tilted toward the ground as his brows furrowed once more. "I'm... I'm real sorry about your folks. They were good people."

"And so was Tess." (Y/N) added softly and Joel's features hardened into a grimace, his head turning away from him and his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. He made no move to respond or even acknowledge her but (Y/N) could see the pain etched all over his face. He could see the sorrow and pain Joel fought desperately to swallow down and ignore until it faded. "She had a good heart."

"Yeah." Joel forced out and inhaled sharply, his grip on the canister tightening. (Y/N) stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Joel's shoulder, feeling the man tense at his touch and become rigidly motionless. He could only feel Joel's chest moving with each quiet breath until, after a minute of nothing, his arm moved, sliding around (Y/N)'s body loosely at first before tightening with every emotion Joel had long buried under his hardened exterior. His forearm pushed against (Y/N)'s back, pressing them tightly together as Joel buried his face into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. In a soft, muffled yet pained voice, he spoke, "I miss her."

"Frank used to say that you honor people by living for them... by living because of them. Who else will keep their memory alive is not us, Joel?" (Y/N) told him gently, rubbing his fingertips into Joel's shoulders.

"You are..." Joel interrupted himself with a soft chuckle as he leaned back, "Far too young to be sounding so old."

"I can't help it." (Y/N) smiled, dropping his arms from Joel's shoulders and crossing them over his chest. "You should've seen the books Bill and Frank had me reading."

"Yeah, I bet half of it was some crazy conspiracy shit." Joel snorted, his shoulders lightly shaking and a rare genuine smile spreading across his face. He had a breathy sort of withheld laugh, one that made him wonder how it'd sound when he found something especially funny, and the type of smile that made wrinkles form around his eyes.

"You have a pretty smile, Joel. You should do it more often." (Y/N) complimented, running his hand over Joel's bicep affectionately before dropping his hand to his side and turning around. He approached the next car down the line, dipping his arm in through the window of the car and popping open the flap. He wiped his hand clean of dust and dirt with his pant leg before unscrewing the cap for Joel. He stepped aside, finally taking note of the still man. "Joel?"

Joel blinked, gaze darting over to him and flickering toward the flap. "Right. Thanks." He cleared his throat, long legs moving toward the car. He kneeled down beside it, glancing up briefly when Ellie stepped out of the store and began walking toward them. She stood beside (Y/N) and looked down at Joel, watching him begin the siphoning process.

"We have to do this every hour?" Ellie questioned, one brow arching questioningly. It was easy to forget she hadn't been alive when cars were driven freely down the street instead of armored vehicles or tanks. She hadn't even known how to put a seatbelt on.

"Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water." Joel explained. "Back in the day, we'd drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

"So where'd you go?"

"Pretty much nowhere," Joel inhaled deeply, releasing that air into the tube. A few seconds later, gasoline poured into the other tube and down into the canister. Ellie blinked and perked up, that familiar curious twinkle appearing in her eyes again as she leaned her head forward to get a closer look.

"How does that work?" She asked, taking another step closer.

"It's a siphon," Joel answered, looking up at her and being met with a blank stare. "It's when... liquid travels against gravity... because pressure-"

"You don't know," Ellie stated simply and giggled when Joel shot her a look. Sticking her hands in her pockets and spinning around to face (Y/N), she tilted her head. "Do you know, (Y/N)?"

The man in question blew a raspberry and shrugged. "Uh... Billy taught me how to do it once a long time ago. Something about gravity, pressure, and elevation. I was like fifteen. I didn't really get much of it but I think Joel was on the right track, actually."

"Exactly." Joel raised his brows at Ellie, almost sassily in fact, and turned his attention back to the tubes. Without having to look up at Ellie to see her expression, he spoke again. "No wondering."

Ellie clicked her tongue and tilted her head up toward the sky, lips pursing defiantly but her feet remained planted on the ground. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, his eyes catching the wicked grin that sprung out on Ellie's face. She lowered her head and slipped her backpack off, placing her backpack on the hood of the next car with a soft thump. "This is your fault, then." Ellie laughed mischievously and tugged a book free from her backpack.

"Uh-oh." (Y/N) laughed, and then laughed again when Joel's face fell into disbelief and misery. Ellie proudly held No Pun Intended: Volume Too in her hands and loudly cleared her throat as she tossed the pages open. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip, a few giggles escaping him as he awaited to hear stupidly cheesy puns and watch Joel's misery intensify.

"'It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.' " (Y/N) snorted at Joel's silence. "No Pun Intended: Volume Too by Will Livington. Volume too, you get it? Too? Like, t-o-o?"

"Jesus." Joel exhaled heavily, staggering up onto his feet as giggles left Ellie.

"'What did the mermaid wear to her math class?'" Ellie looked up from the book at Joel, a slow grin spreading across her face. "'An algae bra!' Get it? Like algebra?"

It took another horrible pun and a burst of giggles for Joel to tell Ellie to wait in the truck while he finished getting gas. The satisfied look on her face and the mischievous smirk spoke volumes as she headed for the truck with a skip to her step. After a few more minutes, the canister was full with gas and the two men returned to the car. (Y/N) climbed back into the passenger seat, setting his rifle between his legs alongside his backpack, while Joel filled the gas tank and set the canister in the back. The truck rumbled to life and Joel drove them back out onto the road where lines of cars had been forced out onto the edges of the road.

"Must've been some truck," Ellie said, propped up on her knees to watch the cars they passed by.

"Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on 'em and clear the roads for their tanks and such," Joel explained grimly, glancing at the cars until the lines ended.

(Y/N) stared out into the vast emptiness around them, a stark difference from the forests he'd grown up around. He felt Ellie fiddling around in the backseat, searching around until she pulled out a cassette tape and had Joel insert it, an old country song pouring out from the speakers that (Y/N) vaguely recognized. Ellie continued her search and (Y/N) noticed her dip suddenly behind his seat, the sound of papers crinkling filling his ears.

"Got somethin' else. It's, uh, light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures-"

"No, no, no. Put that back." Joel demanded and (Y/N) shifted in his seat, immediately spotting the athletically built shirtless model on the cover. His face immediately heated up and he turned back around, covering his mouth to stifle the embarrassed laughter that left him. "Ellie- Ellie, that is not for kids."

"Oh, my god. I didn't need to see that." (Y/N) whispered. "Throw that away, Ellie. It- It's not for your eyes-"

"Hold your horses! I wanna see what all the fuss is about!" Ellie laughed, continuing to flip through the pages. "Why are all these pages stuck together?"

"Ellie."

"I'm just fuckin' with ya." Ellie giggled, smacking Joel's shoulder with the magazine before lowering the window and tossing it out into the wind. She slumped back in her seat and rolled the window back up, more laughter escaping her lips until the sights they passed captured her attention.

They continued driving down the countryside, passing by a multitude of things. From a bison herd to an old overgrown rollercoaster, they drove until the countryside faded into lush forests and roads slowly overgrown with foliage that led to formerly populated areas. They stopped for gas one more time, listening to a few more puns from Ellie that had Joel contemplating his life and (Y/N) cracking up before hitting the road again. (Y/N) enjoyed looking out the window and imagining what the towns must've looked like before nature retook what was once hers. Of course, from time to time they'd pass old machinery where the army had attempted to fight back, whether against the infected or people, (Y/N) couldn't be sure but an uneasiness filled him whenever he spotted a tank or armored truck.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Joel murmured, turning the truck onto a grassy field and into a thick forest with tall trees where they'd be hidden away from anyone passing by. He parked the truck once satisfied with the spot and got out, collecting the small stove and setting it down on the ground while Ellie explored their camping spot for the night.

Stirring around the contents from a Chef Boyardee can, (Y/N) poured even servings into three plates and sat back against a mossy rock to eat. For an expired can of ravioli, it surprisingly still tasted good, though his thoughts drifted back to Bill's cooking. He pushed around the ravioli with his fork, idly listening to Ellie and Joel chat about their meal and plans. He couldn't help but think about them, about their last days spent together, about the short and sweet wedding. The urge to eat numbed quickly.

"Here, Ellie." (Y/N) murmured, scraping the remainder of his meal onto her plate and wiping his plate clean to use another time. (Y/N) stood up from the rock and tucked the plate and utensils away. He could feel Joel's stare burning a hole into his back and gave the man a smile to soften his worry. It hardly helped so (Y/N) focused on getting their sleeping bags out of the truck as the sky above them began to darken with night fast approaching.

With two lanterns, he sat one down between Ellie and Joel's sleeping bags and took the last one for himself. "I'll keep watch." He told them, slipping the rifle strap around his shoulder and patting Ellie's head as she lowered down to wiggle into her sleeping bag. She swatted playfully at his hand and chuckled, pulling the pun book and a flashlight out of her backpack before using it as a pillow. Joel glanced at him and stiffly nodded, settling into his own sleeping bag and watching him walk a few feet away.

(Y/N) leaned back against a tree trunk and set his lantern down by his feet, taking the strap off his shoulder and holding the rifle. His eyes trailed down the gun until they found the words engraved just above the trigger. B&F. His thumb ran over the rough letters, pressing into them until they left an imprint on his skin. He took a deep breath and raised his head, scanning the area around him. With everything falling into darkness, he was left to depend on his hearing for any sign of something amiss. But all he heard was the rustling of leaves above him and the occasional call of an owl. Fabric rustled behind him and the light from Ellie and Joel's lantern faded, leaving him with his thoughts while they dozed off into slumber.

About twenty minutes passed before he heard the fabric rustling again and peered over his shoulder to see Joel's dark figure getting up. Likely off to use the bathroom, he assumed and looked forward again, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the letters. His teeth nibbled lightly on his bottom lip and he could feel hunger slowly creep in, poking around as it made its presence known. A twig behind him snapped and he turned, finding Joel approaching him.

"You should be sleeping."

"And you should've eaten." Joel lifted his brows and took his wrist, placing two granola bars and an apple in his hand. He nodded to them and carefully took the gun from him, surveying the area in a glance before looking back at him. "Eat. I'll keep watch 'til you're done."

"Joel-"

"Eat." Joel urged gently, a surprisingly soft look falling over his features. "I have to take care of you, too, alright? Stop actin' stubborn and eat."

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tieronecrush · 9 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.5k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!

a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x

You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.

It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.

Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.

“Hello?”

“Posey, you answered! Hi!”

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.

“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”

Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.

“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”

“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.

“Hey, Mari.”

The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”

“You’re welcome,” your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.

Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.

“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”

Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.

“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.

“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“

Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”

“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”

You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose.

“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”

“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.

“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”

“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“

“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”

That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.

After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.

You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.

You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.

Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.

Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.

This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.

Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.

Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?

He heard it and zoned out immediately.

You? You were moving home?

He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?

The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.

“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”

He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.

Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.

At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.

Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.

You’re coming home.

The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.

It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”

Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”

“Wait, Joel did this?”

“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.

“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.

A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.

A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.

Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.

You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.

Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you.

But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.

Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.

This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help.

On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.

As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer.

“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”

On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.

“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.

“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.

“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.

“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.

“Joel, don’t you dare…”

“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”

“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”

In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.

“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”

All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.

Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.

“May I propose a treaty?”

“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”

He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.

“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”

Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”

You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.

He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”

“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.

Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.

You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.

“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.

You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.

Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”

“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”

Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.

“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”

Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”

You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.

“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”

A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.

“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.

“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard.

At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.

“Back door? This a new thing now?”

“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”

A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.

“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”

“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”

Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.

“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”

You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.

“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”

You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.

“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.

You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.

“Did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I have full custody of Sarah now.”

He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.

“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.

“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”

He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”

“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”

In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.

Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.

“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”

At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.

“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.

“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”

“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”

“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“

“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.

“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”

“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.

“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”

“God, you’re such an idiot…”

“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”

“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.

“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.

“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”

“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”

A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.

“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“

“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”

As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.

Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.

“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What d’you have in mind?”

“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”

You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.

“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.”

He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”

“What does that all mean?”

“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face.

Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.

“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth.

“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.

“I want to, I really want to.”

His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.

“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”

You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”

His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.

“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”

“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.

“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”

“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.

“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.

With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”

His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.

“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.

“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”

“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.

“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?”

Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.

“Night, Mari.”

“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”

The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.

“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”

Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”

“HomeGoods.”

“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”

Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.

“Posey, come sit with me!”

With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.

“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.

“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”

You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.

“Never lose your honesty, mija.”

Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.

“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”

“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.

“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.

“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.

Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”

Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”

Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.

When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.

“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”

“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.

“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.

“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”

Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.

If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.

“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”

“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.

“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.

“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.

“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”

Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.

“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.

“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.

“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”

“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.

“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”

“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.

It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.

The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.

“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”

Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.

“You choose for me.”

“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”

“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.

“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.

“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.

“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.

“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”

Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”

“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”

“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”

“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.”

“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”

Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”

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trans-queen-administrator · 6 months

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Can't sleep, just gonna summarize an old fanfic idea that I never wrote but I'm still fond of and I had a lot planned. Simurgh attacks instead of Leviathan, the entire fic takes place in the quarantine zone.

It was gonna be sort of shuffling around points of view to show all the people affected, but the main character would be Lisa who would second trigger after Coil's base collapsed and killed Dinah, which led to Taylor blaming herself and attempting suicide. Her new power would essentially take away her ability to analyze anything but people, but now she can tell pretty much everything about someone and figure out how to get them to do what she wants. She manages to save Taylor after the attempt and slowly nurses her back to health, and because she's incredibly shaken she absolutely never talks to Taylor without controlling the entire conversation with her power to have it go how she wants. Extremely overprotective, obsessed, and manipulative, which leads to Taylor being overly dependent on Lisa.

Labyrinth is also having a terrible terrible time! She was already having a bad day, and the Simurgh's song pushed her over the brink to just have no control over her powers. While they attempt to calm her down so they can get out of the city with her, Elle accidentally kills Faultline and Newter, and has a fun little mental breakdown over it. Gregor eventually calms her down and comforts her, but with the guilt over killing two of her closest friends she's constantly having worse days than she ever has, with her power's altering of space expanding to a range similar to the size of Taylor's bug control. Entire swaths of the city, unusable when she's there, while Gregor just keeps trying to help her get better because he's a lovely person.

The PRT tries to use some of Bakuda's bombs on the Simurgh when the fight starts going to shit. A direct hit turns one of her wings to glass, and it fell off her to the ground. She dodged the next bomb, telekinetically tossing it aside and boosting its trajectory with some tinkertech to send it flying out of the city. Thanks to the Simurgh, the bomb lands directly on and instantly kills the Butcher all the way over in Boston, which lets Bakuda instantly break out of the transport and make her way back to Brockton Bay for revenge (and also for the tail end of the Simurgh fight, she drives her off), even more insane and murderous than before.

The Travelers are understandably having a bit of a terrible time dealing with all this. Noelle went apeshit and forced her way out of the base, which is what led to it collapsing and killing Dinah (and Jess, who is too sane for all this), and she began touching all the capes she could find to get clones to fight the Simurgh with. She makes everything worse, although the fight was already going poorly, and now that the fight is over there's still dozens of evil clones running around locked inside the dome with everyone else. The quarantine zone is being much more tightly patrolled since the Butcher and a ton of clones are in there, so the Travelers are forced to stay there for now. Luke leaves the group pretty early, he was looking for an excuse to do that in canon anyway. They do need massive amounts of meat for Noelle, and the butchers and supermarkets run out quick, so Krouse persuades Noelle to start eating people he kills for her. I wasn't sure if he would hide the source or if Noelle would know and still get convinced to eat it, but either way it would be a bucket of fun. Mars finally musters up the will to leave the group after that, which leads Noelle to get even more deranged.

Pretty much, the two major forces in the city are Echidna and the Teeth, and they create enough chaos that people not on either side can't really just get by peacefully. Labyrinth, Gregor, Lisa, Taylor, and a few others all band together in a third group thats just trying to survive and support each other. Taylor insisted they try to help feed other people trapped in the zone and Lisa talked her into believing that was a dumb idea.

Parian stuck around in the city to try and help get her family out, and is now trapped in the increasingly violent zone when she really doesn't want to fight. Unfortunately for her, she's forced into the Teeth, who figure out she can do some wacky stuff with skin. Bakuda takes an interest in her when she realizes telekinesis plus bombs is pretty fun, occasionally threatening to die in front of her to always be in Sabah's mind. Eventually Sabah escapes the Teeth and joins Tattletale's crew, where she swears off any and all violence no matter what. Mars is also there doing the same thing, they're both just sick of capes and all it entails. They want to be normal and happy and not deal with their friends eating people or being forced to flay others. Eventually this buds into a romantic relationship, and they find genuine comfort and love in each other even with such a horrible environment. Sabah teaches Mars how to sew, and Mars teaches her how to dance, and neither of them thought they really loved those activities anymore, but when either of them watch their girlfriend learn and smile and love those things it feels like their passion for the arts has just been completely renewed. They're happy together.

So then Bakuda comes after Sabah to get her back and Mars incinerates the Butcher by accident while trying to protect her girlfriend. Woooo.

Clockblocker was trapped under some rubble he froze so it wouldn't crush him, unable to escape and forced to stay there as the song droned and his power lasted the full 10 minutes. He swore he'd rather die than let the Simurgh twist him, but he kept freezing the rubble for almost an hour until someone else trapped in the city saved him. Riddled with guilt and self loathing, he wants to be mean to Taylor but she's just kinda pathetic with how much Lisa wrapped her around her thumb so it falls flat.

Theo is getting groceries when the sirens go off and Purity just fucking leaves him behind, same trigger and power as canon. Rip bozo.

There would be a giant showdown between Butcher Sundancer and Echidna. They were best friends and both of them have been twisted by something inside them into beasts who are trying to tear each other apart. At this point with all the fighting like half the city is rubble, and Tattletale + friends are caught in the crossfire of clones and bombs and fire and are desperately trying to get out. Noelle doesn't have perfect control of her clones, and eventually one lands a lucky shot and kills Marissa. Now Echidna is the Butcher, woooo.

She gives up having reason, she's just on a rampage now. She attacks Lisa's group, and they escape but she gets Taylor inside her, eventually Lisa coordinates an attack where Ballistic launches the glassified Simurgh wing at Noelle, Theo grows a bunch of hands out of it inside her to lock it in, and Clockblocker freezes it so she cant escape without dying. I think I just liked the symbolism of it being the Simurgh's wing and I completely forgot that she can teleport now. Whoops. Doesn't matter.

Noelle escapes, and is fucking them up. All is lost, but Scion appears and stops her because like, that's what he does. He completely atomizes her. Nothing but golden light left. Even the people inside are gone, including Taylor.

Lisa loses it and goes on a five minute power-assisted rant where she verbally eviscerates Scion, says she hopes it still hurts that he's alone, says he's worthless, just destroys the little bastard in a grief induced rage. She doesn't even care that her power told her he'll kill everything one day if left alone, she just wants to take out this rage on him. Scion kills himself after 5 minutes of Lisa tearing into him, its implied this was the Simurgh's end goal or whatever, Lisa saved the universe and she doesn't give a shit, Taylor is gone.

So she does the logical thing and kidnaps Taylor's Echidna clone, ties her to a chair, and warps her mind with constant conversation with the end goal of getting her Taylor back. Her power tells her the entire time that this isn't Taylor, it's someone who looks like her but can only hate, and she doesn't give up. I think it works out for her, Contessa owes her a favor now and helps her out with getting Taylor back from something that was never her. This shit was bleak and needed a happy ending. There were even more plotlines I never touched on, I had plans for everyone who made it out of the city too, but this is long so I'm just gonna post now.

#wormfic #worm fanfic #i think having insanely detailed fics that you never write is essential to grow as a person #the best story ever lives in my mind and you cant read it

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thelightsandtheroses · 7 months

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1.5: You're face to face with the man who sold the world

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Word Count: 1k Drabble Summary: The morning after meeting you at your insomnia bench, Joel and Ellie meet Tommy for breakfast and Joel reflects on his life in Jackson and the opportunities it presents for Ellie. Warnings: TLOU Part 1 plot spoilers, implied angst, introspectio, no other warnings come to mind, this is very much just some Joel introspection and me starting to delve into his perspective. You do not need to have read Your Hand In Mine to understand this but if you're reading the fic it bridges chapter 1 and 2. Notes: This is my very first drabble and a bit of an experiment for me and has helped me through a little writing block. The next full chapter will be coming soon and will include lots of interaction between the reader and Joel. Drabble title from the song Man Who Sold The World by David Bowie/covered by Nirvana (this is the version I personally love)

Series List | Chapter One |

Joel observes as Ellie takes another forkful of food, her gaze rising to watch him for a second before turning her attention back to her meal.

Change hasn’t always meant great things for Ellie. Jackson has been a big adjustment. She’s back at school after almost a year on the road, after everything they endured there. It’s her first time in a school not run by FEDRA though, her first time living in a community like this.

Joel still remembers Before, but he knows Ellie has no point of reference here. He’s never truly thought about that before, about the way this world looks to kids born after the outbreak. He’s been too lost in his grief and survival to ever think about things like that, but now he thinks about it all the time.

He takes a forkful of his own food, trying to stifle a yawn. Ellie doesn’t need to know he’s not sleeping; he doesn’t need her worrying about him. Colorado was bad enough. He’s supposed to look after her. That’s why he bought her here after Salt Lake City.

From the corner of his eye, Joel notices Tommy walk into the hall. Tommy raises a friendly hand before getting his own portion of food and joining them as your earlier words echo in Joel’s mind.

Heard you and Tommy are good on patrol …

Years ago, Tommy abandoned left him in Boston. He made it clear that the way they’d survived haunted him and whether he said it or not, he blamed Joel. Probably still does.

Joel can carry that though. It’s okay. He kept his brother alive, didn’t he? So, as far as he’s concerned, he did his job and maybe there were better ways, but he worked with the tools he had at the time.

‘Hey Joel, Ellie,” Tommy says cheerfully.

“How’s it going?” Joel asks.

“It’s good, it’s good.” Tommy pauses. Despite his bright exterior, Joel recognises his sleep deprived eyes. His brother’s expression is one he remembers well from when Sarah was a baby. It’s strange to see it mirrored on his baby brother’s face now; a sign of how much time has really passed.

“Yeah, you look like it’s real good,” Joel says wryly. “Baby keeping you up?” Tommy’s a father now. Joel wishes it didn’t tear a little piece of his heart apart each time he looks at his niece’s face, but it does. It should be a blessing not a wound, but it cuts him so deeply.

She’s like Sarah, but she’s not Sarah.

“She’s sleeping a little,” Tommy retorts quickly.

“Oh yeah?” Joel asks, raising an eyebrow at Ellie who fails to stifle her own laugh.

“Yeah.” Joel remembers how when his niece was born, Tommy had boasted she was sleeping already, that she was going to be a good baby. Joel didn’t quite have the heart to warn him this was common, that she was unintentionally lulling him into a false sense of security.

His brother has made a life here. Maybe Joel can do the same, maybe it isn’t too late. He can feel that promise of hope, something he can hardly even remember from before.

The last twenty years have been built on violence, threat assessment and mitigation. They’ve been about survival and nothing else.

Until now.

Jackson is the first place Joel thinks he might be able to breathe. If there weren’t the continual ghosts of what he’s done, the fact he’s keeping the truth about what happened at that hospital from Ellie.

He’d do it again for her though.

Every. Damn. Time.

It doesn’t make it any easier to sleep at night though.

He didn’t expect to run into anyone when he left the house this morning. In Boston when he didn’t sleep, there were pills and alcohol, but it’s different now. He just needed to clear his head, walk around a little so he didn’t disturb Ellie. He’d found the bench a few days before, but he could never have anticipated you being there too, or that either of you would start talking.

When Joel looks across the hall, as he listens to Ellie and Tommy talking, he notices you’re walking into the hall as if his thoughts had somehow summoned you.

He watches you smile broadly as you sit with two men and a teenage boy. You’re deep in conversation, a faint smile on your face as you collect your food and your group sit a couple of tables away from Joel’s family and dive into an animated conversation.

When Joel next looks over, you tip your head slightly as you laugh, bare a tiny bit of throat. He shouldn’t notice that.

You’re both the same and completely different to the woman he met on the bench last night. He notices you stifle a yawn when you think no one is looking, the only hint he’s seen that you’re hiding something from your group.

There’s something about you, about the conversation you shared that is drawing him in like a siren’s song.

He could ask Tommy about you. He could find out more about who you are, who you’re with, the life you lead outside of a bench in the middle of the night. Seeing you with your group, he recalls vague introductions and details from when he first came to Jackson. You’re something to do with the library? He can’t remember the links between the two men and you, but he recognises enough of you in the teenage boy to make the connection that he is clearly a relative of some type.

It doesn’t feel right to ask for information though. He’s curious, but something in Joel tells him that if he wants to get to know you, the real you, then all he needs to do is walk over to that bench on another sleepless night.

“Everything okay?” Ellie asks, looking up from her plate with a frown. “Joel?”

Tommy looks over at Joel then, raises an eyebrow with a silent question.

“Sure, kiddo. Hey, did you say you found a new book on space the other day?”

“Yeah, I did,” she says animatedly, “It’s really cool actually. The library here has a lot of books that weren’t in my old school library. Plus, they have DVDs, Joel. DVDs!”

Joel can’t help the way his smile widens as he listens to Ellie continue to talk. Everything he did between Boston and Salt Lake City; it was worth it for this.

He can feel hope setting root in his body, unfamiliar and strange. Maybe change is a good thing.

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If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs.

#your hand in mine fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #aka the insomnia bench fic #joel miller drabble

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avastrasposts · 7 months

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 34**

Again, sorry about chapter 33, I know if was a hard one! But as someone said, it bonded us and brought us together! And I cannot tell you how good it felt to finally post it and be able to talk about it even though I was really nervous people would be genuinely offended. But it's all good! No got angry (yet anyway...).

So we're past the worst of it and Frankie and his girl are about to leave the QZ so please enjoy their journey that led to me using Google Maps an extraordinary amount!

Series Master List

Chapter 35- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 8.8k

Getting out of Boston is scary, Frankie drives and dodges around the runners that are attracted to the noise of the car. You regret your decision to leave every minute of the drive but Frankie hasn’t met a vehicle he can’t safely push to its limits. When you dare to open your eyes again you’re speeding down an empty highway, the Boston suburbs disappearing behind you.

“That was fucking intense,” he huffs, glancing in the rear view mirror at the fading city skyline. “Let’s not do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie, but I really haven’t thought about where we should go,” you say, looking over at him as he drives, “I had no plan apart from getting you away from the QZ.”

“It’s ok, cariño, we’ll figure it out,” he slides his hand over to your leg, squeezing it lightly, “I’ll just get us as far as possible today, out into the countryside, and then we’ll see where we wanna go.”

“How far do you think we’ll get in this car?” you ask, looking over the small sedan. It wasn’t the sturdiest car even when it was new, and it wasn’t new when the outbreak happened.

“As long as we find petrol and it doesn’t blow a tyre, it should be fine. I hope,” Frankie gives the dash a gentle pat as if willing the car to hold itself together.

You fall silent for a few minutes, looking out through the window and the passing trees. You’ve passed Worcester and the landscape is changing. You’d forgotten how green it could be, the QZ was devoid of almost all plant life, all trees taken down for firewood, any park dug up for crops. But out here, on a bright May day, everything is so green it almost hurts. In the past ten years nature has taken over and when you drive through a forest it’s like being inside a tunnel of green, tall grass and thick bushes caging in the road and slowly creeping over it. In a few more years even the asphalt will be broken up by roots and plants, you can already see it in places.

The miles pass and you see less and less civilization and no sign of infected. Frankie makes sure to drive around any towns or cities, staying well away from any places that used to be populated. You leave Massachusetts and keep making your way west, after a few hours you reach Pennsylvania and one of the big state forests. The green hillsides remind you of Denny’s cabin, of the drive up there. You haven’t thought about it in years but now it seems like a haven.

“Could we go back to Denny’s cabin?” you ask, looking over at Frankie again, “Maybe it’s still untouched.”

“After all these years, I doubt it,” he says, shaking his head, “I did lock it when we left but someone’s bound to have found it, raiders or looters. And even before it would’ve been a two day drive, now, who knows how long it would take?”

“But we need somewhere really remote, maybe up towards the Canadian border?”

“Yeah, but past the Great Lakes first, too many people on this side,” Frankie says, “And not too far north, the winters are too harsh.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and you hear him inhale a couple of times, you know he’s getting ready to say something so you wait while watching his profile, his eyebrows knit together and he tightens his jaw.

“I gave the last pills to Joel,” he says, finally, “And the key to the apartment, to give to Will.” He glances over to you, “But I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me about the pills, I know I’ve lied a lot lately.”

“Frankie…” you begin and he shakes his head.

“You don’t need to say anything, I’m just going to prove it to you, prove that you can trust me again,” he nods, more to himself than to you, “I’ll prove it to you, but,” he takes his eyes of the road again and looks at you, his eyebrows bunched up with nerves, “…the thing is, I’m already getting shaky, and I don’t know what shape I’ll be in once the withdrawals really kick in. I might need you to drive soon.”

“Of course, Frankie, whatever you need,” you put your hand on his leg and you can feel him trembling, “Pull over as soon as you find a good spot and I’ll take over.”

He nods and takes a deep breath, breathing out through his nose, “I don’t know how bad it’ll get, you remember last time, right?”

“I remember you being sick as a dog for a day, you couldn’t keep any food or water down,” you move your hand to his forehead, he’s starting to look pale and his skin is cold to the touch, “Frankie, we should find a safe spot as soon as possible so that you can relax while it works it’s way out of your system.”

He nods and you pull out the road map that you’d found in the car, scanning the land ahead of you. You guide him and he turns on to increasingly smaller roads, finally arriving at a dead end with a small cabin tucked away deep into the forest. He stops the car and you sit quietly in the yard in front for a while, listening to the sounds of birds and nothing else. Eventually he turns the car around, parking it for an easy get away and you both get out and make sure both the cabin and the area is clear. It reminds you of the early days of the outbreak, when it was just you and him and you fall into the routine of you covering his back while he goes in first.

The cabin looks untouched, the door still locked and you easily find the key hidden under some rocks near the door. The rocks are covered in moss and you have to clean the key before it slides into the lock, but it fits, and the door swings open on creaking hinges. The inside is empty and dusty, just one big room. It looks like an old hunting lodge that’s been emptied out long before the outbreak. The only remaining feature is a big fireplace on the back wall.

“Safe and dry,” Frankie says, closing the door behind you. The shutters are closed and you switch on your flashlight.

“We’ll be alright here for a few days I think, although you might not be too comfortable,” you sweep the light across the room, there’s nothing, not even firewood in the cabin.

“I’ve slept in much worse, trust me, cariño,” he gives you a weak smile, he’s pulling out the camping light and cranking it. It’s not bright but spreads enough light to illuminate the room. As you put your flashlight away Frankie puts his backpack down by the wall, when he stands up again he suddenly wobbles and puts his hand out to steady himself.

“Frankie,” you say, rushing over and wrapping your arm around his waist to hold him up, “are you alright?”

He nods but lets you lower him gently to the floor, “I just got dizzy, it’s starting…” he breathes deeply and even in the dim light you can see his pale complexion under a sheen of sweat.

“How do you feel about food? I think you should eat something before it gets worse,” you kneel down next to him and pull out the camping stove and a can.

“Just give me some of those dry crackers you made and some water,” he says, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.

…

The night is bad for Frankie, his body shivers and you drape his sleeping bag over him but then sweat pours off him and his anxiety spikes. He’s got his head in your lap and you rake your fingers through his damp curls, soothing him in what little way you can as the opioids work their way out of his system. You refuse to let him keep watch, insisting that he gets what sleep he can, you sleep sitting up, a simple noise trap set up in front of the locked door. By morning Frankie is curled into a tight ball on the floor, sweating through his t-shirt and whimpering in his sleep. He’s thrown up during the night and you’ve forced him to drink water but now he’s fairly peaceful so you let him sleep for as long as his body will let him.

You only meant to stay overnight in the cabin but you end up bunkering down for three days. Frankie curses every decision he’s ever made that’s led him to lie shivering on the floor while he tries to at least keep liquids down. The forest around the cabin is quiet and you venture out in search of more water, leaving Frankie sleeping. When you come back a few minutes later he’s awake and anxious, irritated at you for leaving without him.

“You can’t go out on your own!” he snaps as you close the door behind you, wrinkling your nose at the stale air inside the cabin after three days. “What if something happens to you and I don’t hear anything?!” You put down the water container and he grabs your arms, pulling you close, “You’ve got to be more careful!”

“Frankie, honey….” you soothe him, “I was gone for a minute, there’s a stream just behind the cabin, “this is just your withdrawals messing with your brain.”

“You know I worry about you, you can’t just fucking disappear on me,” he growls, his temper getting the better of him as you try to calm him. The aggression has been simmering under the surface for the past twenty-four hours and you know he’s ready to peel his own skin off from sheer frustration. You carefully inhale a deep breath, letting him hold on to your arms as his jaw snaps shut around whatever angry words he wanted to spit out. This is not your Frankie, you have to keep reminding yourself, and you put your hands on his waist, his fingers still digging into your arms. Finding the small gap between his pants and shirt, you rub your thumbs over the soft skin, letting the warmth of your hands seep into him while you watch emotions work their way across his face; from anger to frustration to guilt and grief. When he lets go of your arms and wraps himself around you, pulling you tight, you know he’s snapped out of it for now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m such a fucking mess right now.”

“I know, Frankie, but you’ll get past it, the worst is almost over,” you caress his messy curls, cupping the back of his head with your hand to keep him close. “I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere, just stay with me and I’ll take care of you, ok?”

He nods while you gently take his hand and pull him down onto the floor again. He sits against the wall, his fingers twitching as he tips his head back against the rough timber, closing his eyes.

“I’m actually a little bit hungry, maybe the worst is over.”

“That’s great, do you want something to eat? See if you can keep it down now?”

“Yeah, give me one of those crackers to start with,” he opens his eyes again and accepts the dry piece of thin bread from your backpack.

You watch him eat it and then a small helping of canned baked beans that you heat up on the camping stove. He’s still shaky and nauseous, but it stays down and he starts to feel better. You eat your own food and sit down next to him, pulling him into you with your arm over his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, turning his head so that he can press a kiss to your cheek, “for putting up with me. Just for once I’d like to have a life where I don’t feel like I’m always trying to make up to you for my mistakes.”

“You know I’ll always think you’re worth it, Frankie,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp. He hums contentedly and sighs and you sit in silence for a while. His breathing is calmer than it has been in days, he’s not trembling anymore and he’s starting to feel warm again, like himself.

“I’m sorry I forced you to leave Will and Benny behind,” you say eventually, “but I couldn’t let them know, I didn’t want them to risk anything, this is just you and me.”

“I know,” he sighs, sitting up so that he can look at you properly, “I know you did what you had to do to get me away from it and I’m grateful. You sacrifice so much for me, cariño.”

“And Santi…” you begin to say but tears well up and you bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from falling apart. You see Frankie’s eyes fill up with tears too and he pulls you into his chest.

“It’s not your fault, Frankie,” you whisper between quiet sobs, “I know I said it but I know it wasn’t your fault, you got betrayed by someone.”

Frankie shakes his head, “I fucked up, I feel asleep, it would’ve been different,” he tightens his hold on you and you feel him tense up, “he was so disappointed in me for still using, he told me he was going to tell you when we got back and then kick my ass.”

“You talked to him before he got caught?” you ask, pulling back a little and wiping the back of your hand over your eyes, “you didn’t tell me about that.”

“Yeah, right before, I told him what had happened and he said we’d been betrayed, that it wasn't’ my fault, but…I-I don’t know…” Frankie sighs and you reach up and wipe away another tear from his cheek, “He wasn’t mad at me, just disappointed and told me I had to get over it, get clean, I’m just such a fucking mess, a disappointment to you all.”

“You’re doing it now, Frankie,” you say, letting the back of your hand caress his cheek, “you’re past the worst of the withdrawals and now you stay clean for Santi. And I’ll help you, all the way.”

Frankie sighs and gives you a weak smile, “He told me he wasn’t sure I could survive without you anymore, and he’s right, what the fuck would I do without you?”

“What the fuck would I do without you, Frankie?” you say, pressing your lips to the bare patch on his scruffy cheek, “And I don’t mean all the times you’ve actually saved my life. But how would I survive in this world if you didn’t love me? You’re the only reason I actually want to stay alive.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep us safe out here though,” Frankie says with a deep sigh, looking towards the door of the cabin as if he can see all the monsters, infected or not, waiting for you. “We’ll be in danger whenever we leave and even in a place like this, there’s always a risk of someone showing up.” He looks back at you, his eyebrows knitted and serious, “I don’t want to scare you, but there’s only us now and our odds aren’t good.”

“I don’t care, Frankie,” you let him wrap his arms around you so that he can tuck you in under his chin, “I just want my old Frankie back, without the drugs, and I’d rather have just a little time with you like that out here, then watch you succumb to your nightmares and addictions in the QZ.”

“Maybe I should’ve just left on my own…” he mumbles, “putting your through this isn’t fair.”

“Pfft…as if I’d let you,” you snort, “I would’ve come after you.”

“I know, and you coming after me then would’ve been much scarier than any infected or raider,” you can hear the smile in his voice and you give him a soft dig in between his ribs and he chuckles, pressing his lips to the top of your head while he runs his hand over your arm for a few minutes while you sit quietly.

“I never could’ve left you though, I’m too selfish,” Frankie says after a little while, “I need you, even when I’m my shittiest, lowest self. I never could’ve left you, even if you’d begged me to, Pope was right when he said I can’t survive without you.”

“I can’t believe he’s gone, I miss him,” you say, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

“Me too,” Frankie mumbles, “me too.”

…

On the morning of the fourth day Frankie feels stable enough to continue westward. The cabin you’re in is decent but still too close to civilization, so you refill your water canisters and load up the little car. You’re going to need to find gas soon though and when you hit the highway again Frankie sorts a siphon and fills up the tank. It’s slow going, stopping and getting more gas every hour but you make your way west, giving Chicago a wide berth. As soon as you start getting closer to towns or cities, you see infected. There are hordes of them, roaming around what used to be populated areas.

“Any town or city is off limits,” Frankie says as you watch yet another group of infected in the distance, “We’ll have to resupply by hunting or looting farmsteads. One or two infected we can handle, any more than that and we’re pushing our luck.”

You nod and agree, luckily you only see infected near towns or cities, you haven’t seen any in the farms you’ve explored. It seems people either left during the outbreak or the infected somehow naturally gravitate towards each other. In the years since the outbreak some attempts have been made to understand how the infection works and how it makes the infected behave. But apart from them seeming to group into larger hordes and moving with the seasons, no one really understands much about them.

You get past Illinois and enter Iowa, avoiding Des Moines and following the pin straight highway twenty through endless fields.

“Haven’t they heard of curves in this state?” you grumble as you stare at the road that stretches towards the flat horizon, “these roads are literally designed for people to fall asleep while driving.”

“You’ve never traveled by car across the Midwest before the outbreak?” Frankie asks, he looks relaxed, the road is almost empty, just a few cars along the sides, and he’s got his elbow out through the open window, the wind ruffling his curls under yet another trusty cap he picked up somewhere, this one says ‘Pennsylvania University’.

“No, I always flew when I went home from college and the only road trip I did was from Seattle to Portland.”

“I’ve driven coast to coast, the Midwest is the worst for straight roads,” Frankie says, waving his hand out the window, “we just need to get through Iowa and then Nebraska, then we’ll start seeing some mountains.”

“Is Nebraska where you wanna head?” you ask, following the highway on the map.

“Maybe, it gets pretty remote once you start getting in among the reservations, they were never very populated, but lots of open land. But I was thinking maybe Colorado too, but away from Aspen and Denver, somewhere remote up in the mountains but not so far up that the winters get too harsh.”

“Maybe down in the foothills of the Rockies?” you say, looking at the states that creep up to the big mountain range cutting you off from the coast, “Colorado, Wyoming, Montana?”

“Pick a state, cariño, and pick a farm,” he chuckles, “We’ve got a lot of land to choose from.”

…

At night you try to find shelter somewhere away from the road, out of sight. If you’re lucky you find an empty cabin or house, if not you try to hide in a forest, or at least a patch of trees. You sleep in watches, never trusting any place enough to both sleep at the same time. Frankie always makes you sleep first, and once he’s tired enough, in the middle of the night, he wakes you up and then he falls asleep easier and has less nightmares. They still plague him though, and there are new elements to them, he mumbles Pope’s name and you try to calm him before he gets to the point you know he revisits every night.

You still see him too, up on the scaffold every night in your dreams. Sometimes you can run towards it, other times you’re glued to the spot, unable to move, but the outcome is always the same; the trap door opens and he drops before you can get to him. Some nights are worse than others, then all four of them are up there, Frankie next to Pope, with Will and Benny there too. Those nights you wake up screaming as the trap door opens, and Frankie scrambles to pull you into his arms, to calm you down.

“You’re getting good at this,” you mumble, pressed into his soft flannel shirt as your breathing slows down. His hands are rubbing up and down your arms and back, grounding you under his touch.

“I have a lot of practice,” he whispers before he kisses the top of your ear, his warm lips tickling you and making your heart slow down a little bit more, “how many times haven’t you had to do this for me over the years?”

You hum into his chest, drifting off to sleep again even though it’s almost dawn, the dark night sky has a slight tinge at the eastern horizon as Frankie glances around the clearing you’re camped in tonight.

Suddenly he hears a high pitched cry, weak and in the distance, but distinct. You hear it too, even though you’re already half asleep, and you stir, sitting up.

“What was that?” you ask, turning towards the sound. As you listen you hear it again and this time you recognize it.

“It’s a baby,” you whisper, looking up at Frankie who’s straining his eyes to see through the darkness. It’s coming from across the road you’d been on before you took shelter in this copse, hidden from sight now by the trees.

“Yeah, an infant,” Frankie whispers back, getting up from the ground and continuing to look towards the sound.

“What do we do?” you look around the car, trying to hear or see anything else around your simple campsite.

“I’d like to say we leave, get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible,” Frankie says, looking down at you, “But I don’t think I can…”

“Me either,” you nod, “who the fuck are we if we leave a baby crying?”

Frankie gives a little shake of his head and you see him square up his shoulders as he looks towards the shrill, faint sound, “C’mon, we go quietly, we leave the car here, but grab your pack.”

You quickly pack up your things and pull out your gun, all traces of sleep are gone now as you follow behind Frankie. He leads the way across the highway and into the sparse forest on the other side. The baby goes silent sometimes but always starts crying again and suddenly Frankie puts his fist up, signaling you to stop. Through the forest you hear the soft sound of a woman shushing the child. Frankie motions for you to crouch down and slowly you move forward together, making as little noise as possible. The breeze masks your footsteps and as you step around a large oak tree you see the source of the sound; leaning against a boulder is a woman, a few years younger than yourself, with a baby cradled in her arms. Even in the faint light you can see her ghostly pale skin and gaunt look, her chest rising in short rapid breaths, like she’s gasping for air and something tells you she’s dying, her body is slumped over, like she doesn’t have any strength left. Frankie scans the area around her for a few seconds before he speaks.

“Don’t scream, we’re not going to hurt you,” he says, half visible behind the tree. The woman startles but doesn’t cry out, she just holds the child closer to her chest.

“We heard the baby crying, do you need help?”, you ask, still half hiding behind Frankie. He’s lowered his gun but you can tell he’s still on full alert. The woman is painfully emaciated and scared looking but she seems to relax a little when she sees you.

“Are you hurt?” Frankie asks, he can see that her ragged shirt is dark with what looks like blood, and she nods, her face suddenly crumples as she begins to cry.

“Please,” she begs, tears streaming down her face, “take him, get him away from them.” She struggles to lift the baby, he begins to wail again and she almost drops him as her arms give out.

“Keep watch,” Frankie says to you in a low voice, “I’m going to check on her.” He puts away his gun and puts his hands up.

“I’m going to come over, I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t hurt me, ok?”

The woman nods, sobbing, and Frankie closes the short distance, crouching down next to her. You keep your gun raised, your eyes flitting between Frankie and the woman and the trees around you. The sky is rapidly getting lighter but the surrounding forest is quiet, whoever ‘them’ are, you can’t hear anything.

The woman’s eyes are big and fearful as Frankie crouches down but he smiles at her, you see his warm eyes give her that comforting look you’ve seen so many times, and she relaxes, trusting him instinctively.

“You’re hurt?” he asks in a soft voice and she nods, looking down at her abdomen.

“It’s bad, I’ve lost a lot of blood, I-I’m dying,” she whispers and as Frankie gently lifts her shirt you hear him inhale, her shirt is soaked with blood and there is a nasty looking gash deep into her side. She’s been holding her hand over it but as Frankie makes her move it out of the way you realize there’s no way you can help her. She needs a hospital, and even that might not be enough.

“I’m sorry,” Frankie says in a low voice, looking up at the woman’s pale face, “I can’t do anything, we only have a simple first aid kit. Who did this to you?”

The woman just shakes her head and tries to lift the baby again, “Take him, please, they’re hunting me, get him away from here.”

You scan the forest again, your finger on the trigger, straining your ears to hear anything above the chirping of the early morning birds that have started to sing.

“Who are they?” Frankie asks, gently dropping the woman’s shirt over her wound again.

“Slavers,” the woman shudders, “I escaped three days ago, I-I don’t have time, please,” she looks down at the baby in her arms and then back at Frankie, “Please, you’ve got to take him. His name is Jack, after my brother. He was heading to Wyoming with a group of people, please find him.”

Frankie looks over at you and you see the question in his eyes, should you take this baby? But the option is to leave him to die with his mother, or be found by the slavers, and then what? You nod to Frankie and look at the woman, “We’ll take him, but we might not find your brother, Wyoming is a big place.”

“Just get him away from here, please,” the woman’s voice breaks, she’s bending her head down over her son, gently tucking in the blanket that’s swaddled around him. She looks up at Frankie again, he’s still crouched next to her.

“Take him and…and k-kill me…” she pleads, “Don’t let them find me alive, they’ll hurt me.”

“How many are coming after you?” Frankie asks, holstering his gun and taking the infant boy from the woman.

“Ten, maybe fifteen,” she says, looking at her son, now safely tucked into the crook of Frankie’s arm. “There were twenty-two in the gang, I killed one as I escaped.”

“Too many for us to fight,” he replies, looking back at you. Much as you know he would like to help, he won’t risk your life or his own for this.

“Come here,” he says to you, motioning over, “take the baby.”

“Jack, his name is Jack Connolly, he-,” the woman says, her voice breaking into a moan as she grabs her side, “he’s six months old, his birthday is January twenty-third,” she looks at you as you carefully take Jack from Frankie, “Please take care of him,” she whispers, “tell him I love him.”

“I will, I promise,” you say, “We’ll keep him as safe as we can. Do you kno-”

Your head snaps up as you suddenly hear someone shout in the distance, Frankie is on his feet in a flash, gun raised.

“We need to go,” he says, “back to the car, quick.”

“Please,” the woman urgently whispers, “don’t leave me alive, you have to kill me,” she sobs, glancing over her shoulder towards where the shout came from. Frankie looks at her and then back at you before he kneels down by her again.

“Do you know where in Wyoming?” he asks, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. “And what is your name? So that we can tell your son when he grows up.” You turn away from the woman as you see Frankie reach for the hunting knife behind his back.

“Julia,” the woman says, her voice breaking around another painful moan, “They were heading for Wind River.”

“We’ll find him, we’ll bring Jack to him,” Frankie says and then you hear the breath knocked out of the woman in a gentle gasp. You can’t help but glance back, shielding the boy in your arms. Frankie’s hand is covering her mouth and his hunting knife is in her chest, angled just into her heart. As you watch, her wide eyes, locked on Frankie, go still and lifeless. He gently sweeps his hand over her eyelids, closing them as he pulls out his knife.

“C’mon, we need to move,” he says quietly, getting back to his feet, sheeting the knife and pulling out his gun again. A man with a gruff voice shouts again, closer this time, and as you spin around, Frankie grabs your arm and pulls you behind the large oak tree. He gives it a few seconds and then moves you forward with his hand still around your wrist.

“Back to the car, quietly,” he whispers, “if the baby cries, cover his mouth as much as you can.”

You only make it a short distance before you hear voices behind you again and Frankie pulls you both down behind some low shrubs, not enough to hide you if someone comes too close.

“I found her!” someone shouts from between the trees, “but the bitch is fucking dead!”

“And the baby?” another voice calls, you can hear the undergrowth crunching as someone hurries towards the woman’s body.

“I can’t see it,” the first voice says.

Frankie tugs on your wrist and you move through the forest, crouched low, back towards the road. You glance down at the baby, you’re trying to hold him steady in your left arm, holding your gun in your right. He looks back up at you with large blue eyes, mercifully silent for now.

You reach the road, there’s a strip of long grass between the edge of the forest and the asphalt and Frankie stops, sinking to his belly.

“Stay here,” he whispers, “I’m going to check if the coast is clear.”

You nod and he slowly crawls forward through the grass, lifting his head and glancing down the road. He can see a pick up truck further down the road but no people. Glancing behind him he waves you forward and he watches you begin to sneak forward through the grass but suddenly you freeze, looking at the other side of the road, and he turns. He curses under his breath when he sees two men appear from the trees and stop, looking up and down the road. Frankie hears you slowly back up, into the tree line again, out of sight. He risks a quick look over his shoulder, you’re concealed behind the trees again and he carefully crawls backwards through the grass.

“No sign of anyone, that car could’ve been there for years,” one of the men says, adjusting the rifle on his shoulder.

“I’m telling you, I came through here with Lowell a week ago and it wasn’t there then,” the second man replies.

“Yeah, but that was a week ago, whoever left it is long gone by now.”

“And maybe they’re not, I’m just saying it’s weird that the car is there just as that bitch cut Jake and ran.”

“So what? She’s dead now, and who cares about the kid? She’s been fucked by everyone of us, we ain’t gonna know who’s it is anyway.”

“Yeah, she’s dead and we’re down one worker, so we might as well try and grab whoever drove that car as compensation.”

You’ve heard more than enough, bile is rising in your throat as Frankie finally reaches you again and crouches next to you. He puts his mouth next to your ear and whispers. “Follow the treeline, stay out of sight, we’ll take their truck if we can get to it.”

You nod and he holds onto your wrist as he slowly moves through the forest, out of sight. There’s no one by the truck and Frankie quietly opens the driver's side door and feels around for the keys.

“Bingo,” he whispers as he grabs them, still hanging from the ignition, “Get in from this side, keep the baby quiet.”

You do as he says and slide down between the seat and the dash when he points you to it.

“Hold on tight, once I start it up they’ll be all over us, keep your head down,” he whispers, glancing around the truck. There’s an old hunting rifle in the back, not well maintained but when he picks it up and checks, he sees that it’s loaded.

He hands it over to you, “If I say so, leave the baby on the floor and shoot at anyone who’s coming after us, ok? They probably have at least one more car and they might have time to get to it once I start this.”

You nod and Frankie reaches for the keys, holding his breath, he turns it and the truck rumbles to life. He quickly throws it in drive and accelerates, through the open window you can hear shouts go up.

“Someone’s stealing the pickup! Get after ‘em! Quick!”

“Joey! Get the other fucking car!”

“Shoot the tyres, shoot for fucks’s sake!”

Gunshots ring out but Frankie is already swerving, zigzagging the truck down the road. A few bullets ping off the metal and Frankie glances behind him.

“Cariño, I’m gonna need you to take their car out, they’re coming after us,” he calls over the sound of the guns.

His eyes flit between you and the road as you climb up onto the seat and crouch down by the open back window. The rifle is heavier than what you’re used to but you manage to shoulder it and aim down the barrel.

“Yank back on the lever on the side to reload,” Frankie calls to you and you almost roll your eyes at him as you pull back on the bolt action. You can hear Benny’s voice in your head as you go through the motions and hold the rifle as steady as you can while the truck lurches, ‘Push it up first, then you slide it back, the bullet pops out and then you reverse it, easy!’

Your first shot goes wide, the sights on the gun wonky and old. You can feel Frankie glance at you in the rear view mirror as you reload. The second shot hits the side view mirror of the other truck, you wish you’d been aiming at it but it was pure luck. But it does have the benefit of making the driver jolt and swerve and one of the men in the back of the truck topples over and disappears from view.

A bullet slams into the back of the truck, making you jerk your head back, for a second you think you’ve been hit but nothing hurts and you take a deep breath, aiming out through the window again.

Your third bullet hits the grill, you’re getting the hang of the aim of the rifle.

“Keep the truck steady for a few seconds,” you yell back to Frankie, “I need to hit a tyre!”

He does as you say and you take careful aim as the other pickup gets closer. You squeeze the trigger gently but a bump in the road jolts your aim and the shot rings out, going wide and you curse loudly, quickly sliding back the bolt.

But Frankie whoops, “Fucking awesome shot, cariño!” and you look back at the truck, the driver is slumped over, the broken windshield splattered in blood. Behind it you see the other man try to take control of the wheel.

“Take him out!” Frankie yells, “You’ve got him!”

You aim at the tire again and this time your aim is on point, the tire blows up and the man loses control of the vehicle as it spins out of control. It careens into the ditch and Frankie floors the accelerator, putting distance between you and the slavers. You slump down in the passenger seat, letting out a long breath as Frankie gives your leg a quick squeeze.

“Best fucking shot I’ve ever seen, cariño, you’re fucking amazing!”

You give him a weak grin, and pick baby Jack up from the floor, cradling the little bundle into your arms. It suddenly hits you, now you’re responsible for this little one and the promise you made to his mother. You’re heading for Wyoming now and it feels like faith made a decision for you.

…

The truck has almost a full tank of gas and for that you’re grateful. Frankie doesn’t stop driving for hours, turning off the interstate and getting lost on smaller roads, skirting towns and villages, until you’re forced to stop and refuel.

Jack, the little baby boy, cries and sleeps throughout the day until you figure out that he can eat the spaghettios from a can and seems to like it.

“Thank god he eats solid food,” you say, carefully spooning another small bite into the boy’s mouth, “And thank god you’re a baby encyclopedia, Frankie.”

“Never thought I’d use all that knowledge again,” Frankie says, glancing down at baby Jack on your lap. “But you know this complicates things, we need to figure out how to feed him and keep him clean. We’re gonna have to wash those diapers pretty much every day.”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought, there’s already a dirty one wrapped up in the back, “Ok, that’s gonna be your job,” you say and Frankie chuckles.

“I already sacrificed a t-shirt for him, you can do the diaper washing.”

You look down at the little boy on your lap, he’s got your finger in a steady grip and as you watch him he yawns twice and closes his eyes. Soon he’s sleeping again and you cross both your legs, letting him rest in your lap with one of Frankie’s hoodies draped over him.

“How far is Wind River?” Frankie asks and you pull out the map again.

“It’s marked on the map as Wind River Reservation,” you say, tracing the outline of the reservation with your finger, “It looks like about five hundred miles away, so a day’s drive if we’re lucky. But then we have to find this group of people.” You sigh and look at the map of Wyoming, it’s a very big state, even Wind River looks huge.

“I don’t think we’ll find them,” Frankie says, “I say we stick to the original plan of getting to the foothills and finding somewhere safe to live. And even though it’s only June, we need to settle soon so that we can prepare for winter.” He looks over at you and down at the boy, “It’s not going to be easy, even for the two of us. With him…cariño, it’s going to be hard…he might not…” Frankie trails off and you nod, you know keeping a baby alive in this world is hard enough. Out here, on your own, it might prove impossible.

“We’ll figure it out, Frankie, somehow, we’ll be there in two or three days, and find somewhere to settle.”

…

‘Famous last words’, you think the next afternoon as you stand next to the car. The good news is that you’re well away from Nebraska and any pursuing slavers. The bad news is that you’re still a good fifty miles away from White River and even further from the foothills of the Rockies. And you’re out of gas. There hasn’t been a car in sight for two hours and the last one you saw had only water in the tank. The pickup spluttered to a halt after running on fumes for a good half an hour.

Frankie is going through the supplies the slavers had left in the truck, replacing some of the stuff in your packs before he shoulders the larger pack. Little baby Jack has been wrapped against your chest with a makeshift kangaroo pouch made from Frankie’s one clean hoodie. You carry the lighter pack on your back.

“That’s it,” Frankie says, “we’ll have to leave the rest but it’s mainly junk or too heavy.” He comes over to you after tossing the car keys on to the driver’s seat. “You ok, cariño?” His voice is soft as he looks down at you and the baby sleeping tucked against your chest, “It’s going to be a long walk but I know you can handle that, just let me know if he gets too heavy for you.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ve got the heavier pack anyway, Frankie,” you smile at him, trying to sound more alright than you actually are. The car represented some sort of safety out here, a way of running from danger. Now you feel exposed. You look around the empty prairie, nothing but grass until the hills appear on the horizon.

“I found you this in the truck,” Frankie holds out a weather worn John Deere ball cap, it’s grimy and sweat stained, “I’ll wash it when we pass some water but you’ll need it for the sun today.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” you say and stuff it in your back pocket for now and he takes your hand and starts walking, heading west along the highway, leaving the pickup behind.

…

Settlements are few and far behind in this part of Wyoming and it feels like you walk for hours without getting anywhere. The road looks the same, the landscape looks the same, just one big open sky above you and the sun beating down mercilessly. The only sign of time and distance passing is the sun slowly creeping down towards the mountains in the west. When it finally disappears it’s a relief, the evening air cooling your hot skin.

“There’s a river coming up in about two miles,” Frankie says, looking at the map and comparing it to a rusted road sign. “We should camp there for the night, get some fresh water and see if we can catch some fish.”

You nod, you feel dead on your feet and Frankie takes your hand, “Almost there cariño, then we can rest,” he says and gives you a kiss, “C’mon, not much further.”

You walk along the river for half a mile before you find a good sheltered spot. The night’s are still warm so there’s no need for a fire but Frankie pitches the small tent he got from the pickup. It gives baby Jack shelter from the wind while you change his diaper and feed him some of the spaghettios. Frankie comes back from the river with wet pants but a proud smile and a large trout hanging by the gills from his hand.

“Earned my nickname,” he grins, showing off his catch, “Jack might not be able to eat it but we’ll get a good meal tonight and tomorrow.

Sheltered behind a few rocks, Frankie risks a small fire, and quickly grills the trout, deboning it and serving you a large portion with a flourish that makes you laugh.

“Such a master chef, Frankie, this is the best fish I’ve had in years” you smile as he sits down next to you after kicking dirt over the fire to extinguish it.

“Not sure about ‘master chef’,” he chuckles, “hunger and fresh air probably has more to do with that taste.”

“Either way, I’m very impressed,” you lean into him and kiss his scruffy cheek. His whiskers are getting long again and they tickle your nose as you taste his soft skin. Frankie turns his head and catches your chin between his thumb and finger, pressing his warm lips against yours and you hum quietly under your breath. He feels so good and it’s been so long since you were in a place where you could relax enough to think about more than just a cuddle. Here isn’t safe either but the quiet of the open prairie around you lets you feel alone and secure. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gently nibbles on it, you can feel his smile as you let your fingers thread through the curls sticking out under his cap.

“I really wish we had a room with a sturdy locked door,” he mumbles, his lips still close to yours, “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“How fast can you get your pants back on if someone shows up?” you ask, cupping his rapidly swelling cock through his jeans. He groans and you can’t help but giggle at his instant reaction, his hips involuntarily thrusting up against your palm.

“Not fast enough, cariño,” he mutters, “fuck, we shouldn’t risk it but I really wanna fuck you right now.” The last words come as a groan as you palm him with a little bit more pressure, running your fingers along the outline of his hard length.

“Is the baby sleeping?” he asks, glancing over at the tent.

“Yeah, he’s down for the night I think,” you reply, sitting up a bit straighter and straining your ears to hear anything from around you.

“Hang on, cariño, hold that thought,” Frankie says and gets up, not without trouble. You’re camped in a small dip in the land, the river bank on the other side sheltering you from both the wind and anything, or anyone, else. He climbs out of the dip and looks around, the prairie is wide and flat, it feels like you can see for miles except for the few low trees and bushes that dot the landscape.

“C’mere,” he says as he returns down into the dip, “sit on my lap, if someone comes, I’ll shoot them with my dick out,” he’s smiling but his eyes are dark with lust.

You quickly pull off your pants and straddle his hips, reaching down to unbutton him and slip your hand into his boxers. He inhales when your hand closes around his thick length and you pull him free.

“Fuck…that feels so good, carino,” he groans as he caresses your hips, one hand moving up between your thighs to find you slick and warm. His fingers are soon coated in your wetness and you take his hand and make him spread it over his cock while you run your thumb through the silky drops on the fat head. He’s heavy and hard in your hand as you slide down, moving his hand out of way.

“You can come inside me today, Frankie,” you mumble, lining him up against your opening and your words, together with the feeling of your heat starting to envelop his swollen tip, makes him moan, his fingers digging harder into your hips as you slide down onto him.

As he stretches you open, you drop your head down onto his shoulder, his hands gently pulling you down over him. He’s starting to buck his hips up, planting his feet on the ground as he grinds himself deeper. You gasp against his neck when he’s got you flush against his hip, the coarse hairs at the base grazing over your clit. Frankie is already close, you can hear his breaths go short, growling as he hooks his hand over your shoulder and pulls you down again and again.

“Hermosa…” he gasps, “I’m not going to last, you feel too fucking good, so tight, fuck…” he groans and cups the back of your head, pulling you up so that he can slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan into him as his fingers find your clit and circles it with practiced ease. He knows so well how to bring your climax to the surface fast. Heat builds rapidly in your body, Frankie’s tongue slipping over yours with a steady rhythm that matches his thrusts and as he increases the pressure of his fingers just a little bit, you topple over the edge. Gasping into his mouth you feel him pump himself up into your hard, groaning under you as he fills you up, you can feel the heat of his spend even through the last waves of your own orgasm.

Leaning your foreheads together you listen to the silence around you and your heavy breaths. Your heart is racing in your chest and you can feel Frankie’s pulse thrumming under your fingers where you’re holding on to his neck. Your knees are killing you and you wince as you carefully push yourself up, letting him slip out of you. The hard ground has been digging into them, but you hadn’t even noticed while Frankie was inside you. Now you groan and stand up, carefully brushing off your legs.

Frankie is looking up at your thighs, he can see his load drip out of you in the dim light and it makes his soft cock twitch again. He grabs your hips and sits up straighter, making your gasp when his tongue dips into your slit. You can hear him chuckle as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, pulling you closer. His nose is nudging against your sensitive clit while he tastes himself on you, sliding the tip gently through your folds.

“Frankie,” you giggle, he’s tickling your oversensitive nerves, and you grab his curls, pushing him away as he looks up at you. His dimple sits deep in his cheek and his eyes are mischievous as he licks his lips.

“Perfect dessert, cariño,” he grins, smacking his lips.

“Dirty boy,” you smile back at him and turn to put your pants back on while he chuckles. He tucks himself away and you sit down next to him, leaning against him as he hooks his arm around your shoulders.

“If it wasn’t for the whole outbreak thing and constant threat of raiders and infected,” you say, threading your fingers through his, “this would be a perfect ‘Frankie date’.”

Frankie chuckles low behind your head, “I used to serve you better food than just plain trout on those dates. And give you better sex.”

“That was plenty good sex, dirty boy,” you smile, turning your head so that you can reach his lips. You can still taste your combined releases on him and you kiss him again. He leans his head against yours and you hear him yawn and you should tell him to go to bed, to sleep while you take the first watch. But you remain sitting, wrapped up in his warmth and the feeling of having a more normal version of Frankie really close by for the first time in months.

Despite the dangers of the open country around you, you can’t regret your decision to leave the QZ. You meant what you said to him while the withdrawals were plaguing his body; you’d rather have a little time with him out here than watch him waste away in the QZ.

“I love you, Frankie,” you say, looking out into inky darkness around your campsite.

“I love you too, hermosa,” he mumbles behind you and you feel his arms tighten their hold.

Chapter 35

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the last of us #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #the last of us fanfiction #frankie morales/reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier fanart #francisco catfish morales

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moonlight-prose · 1 year

Text

HURT

➝ 03. HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN

a/n: this chapter fought my brain the entire time, because apparently it didn't want to be written. i don't blame it honestly. the amount of angst i've shoved into it, really did break even my own heart. but as always angst is my bread and butter, and breaking hearts through words has always been my forte. so i give you chapter three.

summary: joel comes to a realization that terrifies him more than the horrors of a world he lives in. he can't lose you.

word count: 7.8k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit but still 18+, exhaustion, violence, tw blood, so much angst you better have tissues handy, the odd moment of fluff, tenderness, pain, grief, ptsd, tw death.

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You were dragging behind him, slowly making your way through the outskirts of a city. For some reason the weariness in your body felt amplified the second you open your eyes. You battled a headache and stiff muscles as you walked, trying to keep up with his long strides. But no matter how many times you jogged to get to his side, you continued to feel your energy slip right from your hands like sand.

While you refused to let him know how much of a struggle it was to keep going, you knew he could tell. Every thirty minutes he stopped without explaining why. Simply resting against whatever he could find—waiting patiently for you to catch your breath, and regain the energy you expelled getting there. In return, you thanked him with small pieces of your food and the extra water you carried in your pack.

Nothing that would confirm his actions, but still something to tell him…thanks for having my back as we walk through hell. If the look in his eyes was anything to go off of—he understood entirely. You got used to him complaining about eating as you walked, explaining that the scent could attract anything, but today the complaints were nowhere to be found.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have dared to say he was showing an unusual amount of kindness towards you. Perhaps he was trying to give you peace of mind. You didn’t bother to question it any further, too afraid that it would eventually stop.

“Should we find a place for the night?” you asked, doing your best to fight off the yawn that crept up your throat.

He didn’t respond. Which wasn’t unusual for him to do. In fact, you were so used to it that you simply took his silence as him being in agreement, and began heading towards one of the empty buildings. You didn’t hear him call your name, nor did you hear the word Boston he affectionately used to tease you. It seemed that your brain was focused on one thing—getting some rest. You feared that whatever lingered in your system was some variation of a flu or a cold; both things you couldn’t afford to endure now.

His hand gripping onto your shoulder finally stopped you from going further. The dazed look in your eyes, worse than before; a cloud of exhaustion proved that if you kept going…you wouldn’t survive. For days you’d been going nonstop. Only giving yourselves enough time to shove food into your body and continue.

Sleep started to evade you two days ago. Originally you expected it to pass. Simply another frustration you had to learn to deal with, but then the nightmares started. The pain that you knew still remained in the very core of your body—worked its way through your entire system. Much like the virus, this sensation only had one goal—spread. Until you were left with no other choice but to rest, to finally give in and allow your body time to recuperate.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking directly at him. Except Joel could see the hollowness that reflected in your pupils. You were staring at him, but you weren’t there—not really.

He felt his chest tighten; a feeling he tended to push away whenever it came to you, but today it was different. Even though you refused to tell him, he knew that you weren’t sleeping; saw it in the worn down expression painted on your face like a damn mask. You were trying to keep him from noticing, from asking you what was wrong and as he looked at you, he understood. He could truly lose you if he didn’t find a way to get you to sleep, to push back against the nightmares he knew plagued you each night.

“Come on,” he said, dropping his touch from your shoulder as if you burned him.

Although in your stupor, you thankfully didn’t notice.

Traipsing behind him, you tried to keep your body steady—your steps uneven. He weaved in between the rows of cars that were lined up like museum pieces; simply another reminder of what the world lost. What it once had.

He continued to pause, giving you time to catch up, before he started to veer off the highway and began walking towards the exit ramp. You wouldn’t have been able to guess where you were, the signs faded from the sunlight and covered by overgrown vines. But you trusted that Joel knew where he was going.

Originally you would have believed that putting your trust in a man you barely knew for a few weeks was stupid. Surely a way to get yourself killed, or something even worse, but with him the trust came easy. As if you’d known him since you were young and you were meeting again, this time as old friends. Simply two people that were always meant to cross paths; their fate written in the broken road they walked along.

You didn’t know if he trusted you—or if he ever would—except the slight shift in his actions recently told you otherwise. Instead of treating you like someone tagging along, yet another person he’d lose contact with eventually. He treated you like a partner—asking your opinion on choices, on routes to take and places to stay for the night.

Whether he realized it or not, Joel began to see you as a friend—someone he could depend on when things got rough—a person that he couldn’t lose.

He told himself that getting close to people only made the grief of losing them worse. That to lower the shield protecting him, meant enduring yet another wave of loneliness—forced to face the hollowness that seeped slowly into his bones. The man that he used to be died long before he met you, but every now and then he could see the man who he used to be, return. In his own way, he cared for you. Yet it was a truth he couldn’t admit to himself, because everyone leaves in the end.

Death wouldn’t escape the path Joel was walking along, and he hated that you were right there beside him. Heading directly towards it yourself.

“Where are we going?” you asked, the waver in your voice telling him that he had to hurry before you collapsed.

“I’ve been through here before.”

You swallowed down the impending yawn that was desperate to come out. “So you know about a safe house?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied, squinting against the sunlight in order to catch a clearer sight of the sign that hung above.

Although it had been a few years since he and Tommy found themselves out this far, he could recall there being an old car dealership towards the center of the small city. If he was right, they’d still have a few cars left with batteries that hopefully still worked. It was a small prospect to hold out for, but Joel’s refusal to let you keep going this way, forced him onwards.

He figured that you both might be shit out of luck by the time you got there. But he knew what you’d say to him if there was even a chance of something good happening. Keep going until the hope pays off.

“Boston?” he asked, stopping to see you leaning heavily against the broken highway railing, your eyes slipping shut and body falling forward. Joel slung the gun across his shoulder, taking large strides towards you quickly, his hands grasping onto your arms to steady you.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, your eyes shutting involuntarily. “Just…tired.”

“Hey.” His hands cupped your face, tilting your head slowly. “Hey look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open as far as they could, lids still drooping slightly. “I’m…I’m okay.”

“You gotta keep going.” Unconsciously, his thumb ran along the top of your cheek, the calloused finger clashing with the softness of your skin. You were opposites, yet still somehow remained two halves of a broken whole. “You hear me?”

For a moment, Joel felt his heart lurch in his chest as you stayed silent, your eyes falling shut again and breaths turning shallow. But the sight of your lips twisting up into a grin appeased his slight panic—reminding him that you were far too stubborn to give up now.

Leaning into touch, you released a labored breath before taking in another one immediately afterwards. You were starting to get colder to the touch; the sun going down didn’t help the temperatures in the slightest.

“I’ll try my best, Texas,” you sighed, straightening your stance to the best of your ability and pressing your face into his hand one last time.

You didn’t see it, but he grinned. It was barely there. Just a fleeting look as you headed towards his original spot, but it confirmed everything Joel was afraid of. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t. And that sent a streak of fear through his heart, his eyes still watching you slowly make your way down the street. Joel knew what he was capable of—understood his limits and how far they stretched. Only with you…none of that existed anymore.

Joel wouldn’t lose you, but what he would do to keep that from happening scared him more than it should have.

“You coming?” you called over your shoulder, beckoning him closer with a small tired smile.

He had no control over his limbs as they gravitated closer to you, his steps slowing to keep him right beside you—his hand brushing against yours every now and then. If the road wasn’t covered with overgrown weeds and vines of plants he couldn’t name, he’d say that this felt relatively normal. A man walking beside a woman, the nervous electric energy between them practically visible in the air around them.

Yet the guns strapped to both your backs and scars that littered your bodies like bleeding memories, told a different story. You were two fragmented people destroyed by the aftermath of a ruined world. What a story you would make for anyone still alive to read it.

“We’re not heading to a safe house, are we?” you asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, his hand shifting to tightly grip his pack’s strap. “We’ll be okay.”

“No need to lie to me.”

“I’m not lyin’.”

You grinned, allowing your pinky finger to nearly twine around his. “Your accent gets thicker when you lie.”

“No it doesn’t.”

Scoffing, your finger finally caught his. Joel pretended not to notice the way his heart pressed tightly to his chest.

“Whatever you say Texas.”

The sun began to slowly dip below the rows of houses and taller buildings, giving Joel a time limit as to how far you could go before calling it a night. From what he could remember, the place wasn’t too far into the smaller outskirts of the city. But if the slight shuffle of your feet told him anything, you wouldn’t make it there by tonight. Joel had half a mind to let you lean on him the rest of the way there. Except his back and body screamed at him to finally give up for the night.

He sighed, glancing at the rows of empty homes that most likely remained free of any infected. Yet his gut told him to do a sweep either way before allowing you inside. He blamed the idiotic side of his brain for letting you burrow so deep into his hollow chest.

“Wait here,” he said softly, his hand clasping over yours briefly—thumb running along your knuckles—before he pulled away.

“Got nowhere else to go,” you replied. Though your words were light, airy, you were ready to fall unconscious to the floor.

You had surpassed being able to explain how tired you were two hours ago, the sensation settling itself in your bones. The longer you walked, the louder your body begged for sleep, but every time you closed your eyes…you saw her again. The woman in the closet. You couldn’t get her out of your head even if you tried, because she was too similar. The sight, far too familiar to what you’d witnessed years ago, and before you could stop yourself…you saw your mother again.

If you wouldn’t give your body sleep, it would force you to relive that moment over and over again. Until eventually you went mad.

Sighing, you felt a shake start in the hand that clutched your gun. The rest of your body soon followed, but you held out until you spotted Joel’s figure in the broken window. His flashlight shone out onto the small pathway up to the front steps—the once neatly placed bricks now overgrown by wild grass. You hadn’t heard him scream or shout for you to run yet, telling you that the house was safe from infected and even worse, unwanted visitors.

“There’s no beds,” he said, getting to you faster than you expected him to. “But there’s a couch.”

Relief washed over you. “You think it has anything bad?”

“I checked the cushions. They’re still in good condition. Well…after being left out for ten years.”

Even through your fatigued state, you still cracked a smile when you knew he was attempting to lighten his mood. Sure, he said it in a manner that hinted at no humor whatsoever. But you’d been around him long enough to grasp his slight inflections and dry sense of humor when it came out. Even though his face remained passive, he was funnier than you expected him to be.

“Mm, careful Texas, you’re spoiling me,” you mused as you moved past him slowly.

You could have sworn you saw his face flash with an emotion you’d never seen him wear before, but you blamed it on the trick of the sunset. An orange glow of the fading sunlight caressed his face, showing you the side of him that you would never tire of looking at. Of a man who you hoped found a reason to keep surviving.

He remained close behind you, keeping his hands from reaching out to hold your arm or waist. Joel wasn’t an idiot. He knew you could handle yourself, having seen you take down several infected on your own. But the part of him he closed off, the part that died with Sarah peeked its head out again. Prompting him to be observant of the things you did, what you said, because you were his to care for.

His to protect.

“Did you get lucky with food?” you asked, before turning to see the state of the kitchen.

Havoc had been wreaked on this place long before either of you arrived. The cabinets were picked clean through, and you could see the layers of dust that had settled on the shelves. Nobody had been here in a long time, meaning you and Joel would have to forgo eating one more day until you could get back into the woods tomorrow. At least there you could hunt. There you found solace away from this reality; for a moment you were able to forget that humanity was on the brink of extinction.

“Just the couch,” he replied gruffly, his voice coming directly over your shoulder.

He stayed closer to you than usual, but knowing how unsteady your body was today, you didn’t mind it. Part of you wanted to lean back, press against the warmth you knew emanated from his body. Except the small irritating voice in the back of your mind told you to stay away. Getting close to Joel was dangerous enough as it is. Allowing yourself to fall for him was worse.

There would be no future together. No home to make with him or life to share. This was it. Nights huddled in forgotten buildings, food shared over fires that never stayed alive for too long. You would only get the chance to survive together. Anything else asked for too much, and you and Joel were out of things to give.

“This feels nice.” The words came out as a contented sigh, your eyes fluttering shut as your body finally relaxed.

The cushions were shit and the cold air was beginning to take a toll on you, but you took what little good you could get. Laying down, you felt your muscles calm slightly. It would take time for you to gain back what energy you already lost, yet you didn’t mind. For once sleep wasn’t evading you. Instead, it took you in its embrace, the soft beckoning sounds of the darkness you desperately craved welcoming you once more.

You didn’t feel Joel lay his jacket on top of you, barely felt him shift your legs to drape over his lap as he sat down. All you could comprehend was the warmth that encased you in his touch, his proximity. Your eyes shut, your mind falling silent—giving you the reprieve you needed for days.

The sharp piercing echo of a gunshot ringing in the air jolted you awake. Your eyes flew open, a sharp gasp of breath leaving you as you sat up straight. A cold sweat began to spread along your skin when you looked around the room, coming to the conclusion that you were alone. Perhaps you imagined the shot, the sound simply a dream your brain conjured up. But then you heard it. The distinct sounds of shouting, of Joel’s voice echoing in the brisk morning air.

“You take one more step, I'll shoot again!” he called, his voice spurring you to quickly shove your arms into his jacket and rush to the already open door.

He stood on the last step, his shotgun poised and dangerous in his arms, pointing directly at a man and a woman. They had their hands raised in surrender, eyes wide with the same terror that you had worn before. The same look you must have on now. Whereas Joel’s face was hard, the anger came off him in waves the longer he stood there, unwilling to budge from his stance.

“Please,” the woman stepped forward once she caught sight of you behind him. “We’re just looking for a place tonight. Some food if you’re willing to share.”

You nearly scoffed at the notion that you and Joel were better off than they were. “We can’t help you,” you replied, getting closer to Joel, your hand landing gently on his shoulder.

Neither of you noticed it, but the second your touch pressed against him, his body relaxed. The tension suddenly fading when he finally realized you were there, standing with him. He still refused to drop the shotgun, his eyes narrowed in their direction in case something happened. But with you there, he felt better about the situation, knowing that when worse came to worse…you’d have his back.

“Then a place for night,” the man said. He was smart in staying right where he stood, knowing full well that if anyone got shot first, it would be him. “We have a car. We can take you wherever you need to go in the morning.”

That gave the both of you pause, Joel’s eyes flicked to the side to quickly glance at you.

If you managed to get a ride with them, you might be able to finally reach Boston before you expected. You knew Joel wasn’t quick to trust anyone, but the prospect of not having to walk so far left both of you conflicted with the choice.

“Joel,” you said softly, moving closer to him and shifting to the side slightly. “I know you don’t want to—”

“No.”

You sighed, eyes closing briefly before they met his stone cold gaze. “They have a car Joel.”

The sorrow in your eyes did him in; shot him right in the heart and before he could stop himself, he was relenting to your request. With a sigh of his own, he dropped the gun, keeping his head turned towards you—molten brown eyes locked on yours until it was you who broke away. He heard you begin to make a list of requirements they had to follow, things that you knew would keep Joel comfortable with the situation. And for that he felt grateful.

He didn’t like how quickly you got to him, how you somehow managed to make a space for yourself in his mind—his heart. Joel waited until you led the couple inside, the rings on their fingers telling him enough. They were lucky to have made it this far together; never having to endure the pain of losing one another. He glanced at you one more time, watching as you made conversation with enough ease to surprise even him.

You fit in naturally wherever you went. He wanted to assume that after so long you liked finally finding other people to talk to. What he didn’t know was that you were doing this for him. You were learning everything you could about them to keep not just yourself safe, but Joel too.

“There’s a bedroom down the hall,” you said, pointing to the empty room with no bed. “You can take that for the night.”

“Thank you,” she replied, the relief in her voice evident. “I’m Martha by the way.”

Shaking her hand, you kept the small grin on your face for her sake more than your own. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jimmy,” the man spoke up, nodding his head in your direction. You didn’t bother to nod back, already knowing that you’d only see these people for as long as they could help you.

Joel lingered behind you, his hands ready to reach for the gun at his side, but your presence distracted him from the couple. The early morning light practically caused you to glow the longer you stood near the open doorway, and Joel found himself unable to tear his eyes away. He felt the old familiar sensation of warmth pool in his stomach, his body aching for your touch. For you to come closer.

He fought against the feeling ever since he met you; refusing to allow himself any sort of attraction when he might lose you in the end. Except then you stayed for longer than he anticipated. Digging your way beneath his skin and reminding him what it felt like to be touched. To be wanted.

Ripping himself away from your presence, he sat on the couch, allowing you to take the lead and speak to them. He needed time to think, focus his thoughts on anything but how you might feel beneath him. Seeing you wear his jacket didn’t help his situation anymore than the damn sunlight. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to pull away from you entirely—you pulled him closer. You gave him a small sense of hope in a world that killed whatever was in its path.

Eventually you found your way back to him, sitting beside him on the couch so close that your thighs pressed together. Joel found that he wanted to pull you even closer, his hand aching to press against your leg. To feel your warmth under his palm.

“We could go hunting.” You pulled him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention back to you. Yet he still remained in a daze, unable to completely break free of his thoughts.

He grunted in response, bringing a small smile to your lips. “It’s a long way back to the woods.” Fuck, even his voice sounded dazed.

“If they have a car it won’t take too long.”

It killed him to know that you were clueless as to how much he wanted to stay here and talk with you. All you two have ever done the past few weeks is talk, but Joel found the sound of your voice soothing. He wanted to fall asleep to it at night, to hear it first thing in the morning. That thought alone continued to strike him with a fear so potent he could practically taste it on his tongue.

“We need to be back before dark.”

You nodded in agreement, your hand falling to rest beside his. “I’ll bring my gun just in case.”

“You’re low on bullets.” He heard you curse under your breath. “You can use mine,” he stated, getting to his feet to stop himself from grasping onto your hand.

Stunned, you watched him walk away, heading towards the kitchen where he stowed his bag in one of the cabinets. He had placed the gun neatly on top of his extra flannel. There was a box of bullets stowed at the bottom, enough to give to you in case of something going wrong. Normally he’d try and get you to stay behind, but he trusted the world less than he trusted these strangers. Them he could take if a fight had to be won, but he couldn’t protect you if he was too far to get to you.

“We’ll be heading East,” he said, handing you the gun carefully.

As if they heard you preparing, Jimmy and Martha emerged from the room, their packs still strapped to their backs.

“I’ll drive,” Jimmy offered, his hand gripping onto the keys tightly. That one single movement showed you that Jimmy wasn’t a man entirely willing to venture out with strangers.

You didn’t blame him—still wary about the both of them yourself.

“We better get a move on,” Joel replied gruffly, taking the lead and heading towards the rundown truck that was parked in the middle of the street. He recognized the model, grumbling under his breath about what a piece of shit it was. They would be lucky if it got them to the outskirts of the woods and back before the sun began to dip below the horizon again.

The days used to move slowly, dragging on until eventually he collapsed into bed from the sheer exhaustion alone. Now they blended together. Until he could no longer tell one day from the next, forever stuck in limbo, waiting for everything to come to a final ending.

He watched you clamber into the backseat with Martha, his jacket still adorning your figure and his gun strapped to your waist. There were very few things that turned him on to the point of feeling borderline desperate, but that sight did it. Just the sheer knowledge that you were strong enough to save not only yourself, but him as well killed him on the inside, because he knew he could never have you.

You weren’t his to keep and so he continued to shove away the feelings that began to eat away at his insides. Turning him ravenous for something other than food.

“So where are you two heading?” Martha asked, turning her body towards you, drawing you into yet another conversation that Joel was quick to tune out. Instead, he focused on the roads Jimmy was taking, offering his suggestions on which path was better as they went.

Three hours of hunting left them with a measly bird Jimmy managed to shoot from a tree. Rather than bring the scent of cooked meat back to the house, they cooked it in the woods. Or rather Joel cooked it with the fire you built. While Jimmy could shoot—Joel could give him that—he claimed he had no clue about how to survive in the wild. Martha seemed to agree, saying she did most of the work.

You couldn’t place why, but their words sounded off to you. As if they were putting on a show for whoever they came across. You didn’t ponder on it too long though. Not when you were busy keeping the fire controlled to keep the meat Joel was slowly roasting, from burning to a crisp.

It was when the sun began to dip behind the trees, did you finally suggest heading back. The woods may have been safer than the house—what with it being so far from the city—but you refused to find out if that was actually true. Joel drove back, his eyes glancing at you every now and then in the rearview mirror while Jimmy talked his ear off. Yet no matter how many one worded answers Joel gave him, the man never seemed to shut up.

All you could say was that by the time the sun was gone and you were laying on the couch, Joel sitting where he’d been last night, you were glad the day ended.

“Hey,” you whispered, seeing how he practically dozed off in the time he’d been there.

He stirred awake, his brown eyes—now filled with exhaustion—meeting yours. “You okay?”

Grinning, you felt warmth spread through your body at the realization that the first thing he asked you wasn’t filled with irritation at waking him up. No, he was simply concerned that you weren’t doing okay; that something might have happened in the five minutes he had dozed off. If you weren’t filled with the sudden urge to kiss him before, you were now.

“Yeah.” You watched him settle into the cushions further—his arms draped over your legs. “I’m perfect,” you whispered, knowing he could no longer hear you.

You remained awake for a while longer, listening to his snores as he finally got some much needed rest. Once again you allowed your eyes to wander over the bones of the house that remained. You thought about the past, the future, and then…him. While you were two people who’s scars ran deeper than their emotions, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the domesticity of it all. Of falling asleep with him on a couch after a long day.

How he gave you his gun and jacket, never asking for either of them back even as you re-entered the house. You liked to see him as a partner. A man who would have your back in the midst of battle, but you never ventured further than that. Too afraid of what you’d find buried in the depths of your heart. Two definitions came with that one single word—a label not even Joel had admitted to yet—and you were terrified to find out which one the both of you landed in.

Too invested in your own thoughts you didn’t hear the creak of the floorboards. The shuffle of boots going unnoticed to your spent brain. You shifted, sighing with content at the position you were currently in, your body nicely wrapped in Joel’s leather jacket. Yet the peace could never last in the end. You knew that now.

Your eyes flew open when you felt the cold press of a blade against your throat, fear streaking down your spine. The darkness covered who this person was, but then you caught sight of the dark brown hair pulled into a braid that could only belong to Martha. Joel’s gun was still strapped to your waist, your hand sliding over the weapon, but her narrowed eyes caused you to freeze in place. She tightly gripped your neck, yanking you to the side—her blunt nails digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

“Move or he dies,” she whispered, nodding her head at Jimmy who held a gun behind Joel’s still sleeping figure.

Without fighting you slowly began to inch your way off the couch, the floorboards creaking under your boots as you stood. But Martha had clearly done this many times before. Slamming her foot into the back of your knee, you fell forward with a grunt, hands slapping against the floor and cutting against an open nail. Blood spilled onto the already dark wood, staining the color with remnants of you.

“Now here’s how it’s going to go,” she said softly, her voice empty of any emotion; her hand still gripping onto your neck.

“Let her go.” Joel’s voice calmed your nerves within seconds, the breath you’d been holding finally being let out. You didn’t have to look at him to know what his expression was. The deep echo of his tone told you enough even before your eyes met his.

Joel wanted blood, his eyes zeroing in on the knife still pressed to your throat. He knew what he was capable of, knew how dangerous he could be when it came down to it, and rarely did he like it. But the sight of you on your knees, a fear you tried so hard to hide present in your eyes, shoved aside all his remorse about killing. For the first time in a long time, he was content to rip them apart with his bare hands.

“If he moves, shoot him Jimmy.”

You shuddered, eyes fixated on him as the knife was pressed even harder against your neck. “Hey Texas,” you breathed, your eyes wide and heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shut up,” Martha snapped, slamming you in the temple hard enough to cause blood to trickle down your face.

Joel jolted forward, but the click of a gun forced him to stop. “Yeah Boston?” he asked softly.

Your eyes fell to your waist, the glimpse of his brown leather holster catching his attention. “You’re a pretty damn good teacher.”

He understood, snapping his attention back to the gun and forming a plan on how to get it. But in the time it took for you to let him know, Martha had figured out how exactly best to make you work in her favor. Pulling away from you entirely, she advanced on Joel, her knife now paired with the small pistol you saw her carrying earlier. You felt the anxiety begin to build up in your stomach, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers at the sight.

“Wait,” you called out, getting to your feet, only for Jimmy to grip onto the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

“Don’t fucking move,” he spit in your ear, the sensation of his hot breath against your skin felt vile.

Joel’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists as Martha pressed her gun to his forehead. Thankfully Jimmy was too distracted with the bloodthirsty need that ran through his mind, to notice your hand slipping the gun out from your side. You felt his weapon press against your waist, the barrel cold against your skin.

“Aw, sweetie,” Martha cooed. “Just be glad it’s only us and not our crew. Don’t worry, we’ll make your deaths quick.”

“You’re fucking raiders,” Joel practically growled, his knuckles now white from how tightly his hands were clenched.

“Took you long enough to realize,” she said with a smile.

“What do you want with us?” You knew it was a long shot to actually get the truth from her, but keeping her distracted as you clicked a bullet into place was all that you needed.

She laughed, the sound hollow. “You’ve got weapons, clothes. There’s lots of stuff us raiders like,” she murmured, trailing a finger down Joel’s cheek.

Something hot flared in your chest and shoved its way forward as you heard the bullet in her gun slide into the chamber. You knew Joel could handle himself, knew he could get out of this situation, but you were too stubborn to let him get hurt along the way. The part that cared too much about him took over, finally finding something to fight for in the midst of hell.

Protecting what was yours.

You raised your arm and pulled the trigger before anyone could react. And you watched as the bullet embedded itself in Martha’s shoulder. Her gun fell to the floor, a cry of pain tearing from her throat, but the fight wasn’t over yet. Joel loaded another bullet, pointed it at her and prepared to fire. You shut your eyes, in the hopes of avoiding the sight of any more death, but the echo of the second shot ringing in the air sounded wrong.

Joel flinched, thinking Jimmy attempted to fire at him. Still he pointed the gun at Martha, pulled the trigger and watched her fall to the ground, her blood now pouring onto the wood. Before Jimmy had any time to react, Joel was standing to his full height, his dark eyes narrowing at the sight of you still held in the man’s grasp.

“I’ll kill you!” Jimmy screamed, the fear practically dripping off his body like sweat.

You wrenched yourself away, landing to your knees again and shutting your eyes as another echo of a gunshot pierced through the air. Everything fell silent, the crickets outside, the breeze that blew through the trees. All you could hear was Joel’s labored breaths mixing with yours. Until something louder began to block out the sound of the world around you.

Your own heartbeat.

With a gasp, you finally realized why the shot sounded wrong, why you couldn’t feel your side. Warmth spilled over your palm, pain suddenly slicing through your body. Your eyes opened to see Joel standing a few feet away, his gaze still stuck on Jimmy’s dead body that lay only a few feet away from you. It wasn’t until you breathed his name that he finally broke free from the cage in his mind.

“Joel,” you breathed, eyes wide with a new kind of fear.

He felt the familiar question of are you okay land on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw it. The dark spot that spread through your black shirt, the red that spilled onto the floor below you. Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, the air suddenly punched from his lungs, as he fell to his knees beside you.

“J-Joel,” you stuttered, gasping for another breath that burned your lungs.

“No,” he mumbled, his hands lifting your shirt to see the worst. “No, no, no.”

“Joel w-what’s happening?”

He gently helped you to the floor, his hands immediately pressing against the wound as memories of that fateful night began to rise up in his mind. From what he could see the bullet went through cleanly, leaving an open wound that he had to close up—quickly. His eyes lifted to meet yours and the sight of you looking petrified broke him; his heart twisted violently in his chest with each passing second.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said, trying to convince himself more than you. “I need you to do something for me.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as a wave of dizziness spread through you. His hand cupping your cheek brought you back long enough to hear his words. “I need you to keep pressure on it.”

“Okay,” you gasped, biting back the scream as your hands pressed down on the wound. “What are you going to do?”

Grabbing his bag, he dug through it for his extra flannel, the fabric old and worn down. He couldn’t move you like this, not when you were bleeding so much. But he couldn’t keep you here. Joel felt grief’s familiar tight grip begin to wrap about his throat, cutting off his air, but he fought against it. Forcing himself to focus on keeping you alive. Joel had already decided he wouldn’t lose you…his partner, his friend. His.

“I’m gonna wrap it,” he said, surprisingly keeping his voice calm.

Lifting your hips slightly, he yanked the flannel into place, tightly tying it around your side, and wincing when you cried out in pain.

“I know, I know.” You gripped his wrist, stopping him from moving you any further. “I gotta do this darlin’. I know it hurts.”

“I-I can’t feel my body Joel,” you whimpered, tears falling down the side of your temple and into your hairline. “What’s happening?”

He cursed, hands reaching up to cup your face and turn you closer to him. “You're going into shock. You’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” At this point Joel couldn’t tell if he continued to repeat the words for you or for himself. Fear spread through his chest, the sting of tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t want to die,” you whispered, hands clutching onto his wrists and staining his skin red with your blood.

“I won’t let you die honey.” He tightened the fabric on your body, making sure that the wound had enough pressure to stop you from bleeding out. He didn’t realize how badly his hands shook until you grasped them in yours.

Wheezing, you began to see spots of black show up in your line of eyesight and knew…you’d have to make this quick. “Joel I need you—” Exhaling, you desperately took in another breath. “I need you to do something for me.”

Joel had heard those words far too many times to forget their exact meaning. You were going to tell him to go, leave you there and survive. Yet he couldn’t get your words out of his head—telling him that he wasn’t beyond saving, and in this moment…neither were you. He felt his heart stop beating, his world collapsing once more. Shaking his head, he tried to busy himself with getting you ready to move, but your hands cupping his cheeks stopped him entirely. If he could cry he would, but the tears had dried up long ago.

“You’re not gonna die,” he stated, once again needing the words more than you. “Not when I just found you.” His voice cracked, eyes shutting briefly until he felt you pull him closer. Your forehead pressing to his.

“Come here,” you breathed, your chest aching with the movement.

Pain practically swallowed him whole the longer he watched you struggle to stay awake, your blood still warm on his hands. “I’m not going to let you die,” he whispered.

With a wince, you smiled, thumb running along his cheek. Joel was a man of few words until it was too late and he had no time to say everything he should have said. Leaning in, he finally indulged in the one thing the both of you ached for the most. He pressed his lips to yours, a soft brush of his warm breath fanning across your cheek as he exhaled. Kissing him felt different than you imagined. The rough chap of his lips were somehow smooth against yours and briefly you lost yourself in his touch. You imagined that his feelings, beyond friendship, existed. Yet even you knew this wasn’t real.

You figured this was a goodbye. A thank you without saying the actual words, and you didn’t care if he didn’t actually mean it. Kissing him stole away the grief, it allowed you to truly forget that you were standing on death’s doorstep.

Sighing into his mouth, you felt the numbness begin to spread down to your hands, until you could no longer feel the sensation of his beard beneath your fingertips. Joel pulled away, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed red. If only you had a camera you could take a picture of him like this. Looking like nothing else was wrong in the world, because all he could focus on was you and your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, the black spots overtaking your vision entirely.

“Darlin’?” His hands pulled you up, your head leaning against his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips pressing to your forehead. “You’ll be okay.”

Finally, the darkness stepped forward, welcoming you once more with open arms. Into its awaiting abyss full of peace—a place where you could rest until the end of time. Joel’s voice sounded far away as he called your name, his hand cupping your cheek to see you give in.

Your body jolted, heart racing and breaths labored, as you came to after who knows how long. The pain was a dull thrum in your body yet it was still a bitch to move. But it was the arm that tightly went around your waist that kept you still. Joel was wrapped around you, his face pressed into your neck and legs tangled with yours. You felt the warmth of his palm resting on your stomach when you moved, but the sharp sting of pain stopped you.

Something was tightly tied around your waist, keeping what you assumed to be a piece of fabric pressed against your wound. The pressure felt awkward, but it kept you alive. You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you could see that night had passed, giving way to dawn. Joel’s chest rose and fell against your back as he slept, the soft snores he let out telling you that he needed more sleep than you did right now.

Though you could only imagine what he went through, nearly losing you must have put him through an entirely different kind of hell. You remember his face last night. Stricken with a type of grief you would never know in your life—the type that left a person broken beyond repair. Whatever he’d been through before he came across you turned him into that man. The survivor who wasn’t truly alive.

Turning slowly, you held back your grunt of pain as your wound screamed from the effort. Surprisingly, his face was peaceful. His eyelids fluttered every now and then, breaths remaining even, and you allowed yourself a moment to simply admire him. You had seen him like this before, sitting in the dark as you took watch. But this felt like more.

Shifting closer, his breath washed across your nose, the tickling sensation of his mustache against your upper lip nearly made you smile. You didn’t dare move any closer, keeping your lips a hair's breadth away from his—too afraid of waking him up. And there you remained. Watching him dream about something far away from this empty house. You hoped it was a good dream; one that gave him the solace you couldn’t.

He shifted, his arm tightening slightly around your waist and you felt what was left of your heart crack down the center. It was unfair that you met him now. In the middle of hell. You liked to imagine—if the world stayed the same as it was before—that one day you might have met him if you visited Texas. Or if he visited Boston. Perhaps you would have run into each other like you had now, found a friendship, and then when the time was right, you would have kissed.

Only that’s not how life went and instead you were left to watch him sleep, wishing you never kissed him in the first place. Now that you knew what it felt like—you weren’t sure how you could ever give him up. How could you say goodbye when he owned whatever remained of your heart—your hope?

The rising sun began to shine through the severed windows, glinting off the edges of cracked glass, but you refused to move. After so long searching, you finally found your purpose, and you’d protect him with every broken piece of strength you had left. Until you took your last breath.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us fic #my writing

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magpiepills · 6 days

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Got It Wrong

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x you x Tess

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: you meet two kind strangers when you get to the Boston QZ.

Warnings: SMUT! Alcohol, oral m and f receiving, PIV, fingering, FFM, mention of pant violence/murder, dub con due to alcohol, uncertain reader, reader is in her 20s, no physical description, probably more.

A word from the author: This is a repost! This was my second fic ever and I intended for there to be a second part. It’s mostly finished and just chilling in my docs because it got kinda dark and I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. I may still finish it one day. Y’all can tell me what you think.

The Boston QZ is a hellscape. You’ve always put on a brave face, stoic and bold in the face of everything that has fallen down around you. It’s been a lot, but your resolve has been firm. If you let yourself break even a little, you knew you wouldn’t make it. You had to stay alert here. Maybe the infected weren’t a threat inside the high fences and barbed wire that surrounded the city, but danger remained. People here are desperate and desperate people don’t show any mercy. You didn’t blame them, necessarily, that’s just the way of the world now.

For a long time, living with your family way out in the woods upstate had been something close to normalcy. You had a cabin and a garden and a creek. You had your dad, your sister, a woman your mom had worked with before the outbreak. You had a routine. You let yourself imagine the future here. You were happy.

You were in the woods foraging, filling a basket with mushrooms, berries, and edible leaves. Lost in the plans for a salad at dinner that night, you didn’t see the raiders slipping up to the house. You didn’t see them take away everything in an instant. You only heard a scream and shouting from voices you didn’t recognize. You froze, unable to run to the cabin to try to fend off the raiders. They’d have just killed you, too. You don’t know how long they were there, taking all they could carry before creeping back the same way they’d came. You couldn’t make yourself go back to the cabin. You didn’t want to see what they’d done to your family. You stayed in the woods all night, awake and crying and rocking yourself.

Now you were left alone in the world and with no choice but to go to the Boston QZ. You made your way there carefully, slowly, quietly. You raised your hands and let them test you, spending two full days in isolation before being spoken to like a human.

You had almost everything that you had stolen the first night in the shelter, and you had seen the leering eyes of the men you’d passed on the street, you heard fighting and crying, saw faces come and go. The labor was back breaking and soul-crushing. You’d have given anything for a moment of relief from the constant misery and fear.

After a few weeks in the shelter without serious incident, you let your guard down a little. There was a routine here, something you could focus on and ignore everything else. You’d found an abandoned paperback and read it in your spare time. You read and re-read it three times now, taking comfort in knowing what would happen at the end.

On Saturdays tables were set up in the dining room, and you could get some basic supplies. Some kind of charity, you’d guessed. You approached the table where bags of soap and deodorant and tampons were being distributed and were pleased to see a woman with a kind face and a warm smile standing before you. She was pretty, with long, sandy red hair, streaked with grey, pulled away from her face. She was maybe in her mid forties, roughly twice your age. Her name tag read “Tess.”

“How long have you been here, sweetheart?” She spoke to you in such a warm way, you dropped your guard a little further. Tess had an endearing way of asking about your health, asking if you had what you needed, giving you tips for getting placed in FEDRA housing, always asking how things were progressing. Tess was there every week, and you looked forward to seeing her. This week, as she was packing up to go, she asked you for a hand getting the boxes and card table back to her apartment. “It’s not far, and I’d owe you big time.” After how kind she’s been to you, you were happy to oblige.

The walk was short, about 5 blocks, down an alley and up two flights of stairs to a dimly lit but cozy apartment.

“I think we earned a drink!” Tess shot you a grin and held up a bottle of amber liquid.

You sat at her kitchen table while she poured the liquid into pretty etched glasses and reveled in what felt like friendship for the first time in ages. Maybe the QZ would be ok. Maybe you’d have your own little apartment and couch and pretty glasses to drink from before long.

The alcohol was making your head swim just a little and your little daydream didn’t let you hear as the door opened and closed again. You didn’t notice the man standing behind you, leaning on the doorway and looking at Tess with unspoken words on his lips. When you finally noticed Tess looking over your shoulder, eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

You turned slowly, and smiled at the man. He was tall and must have been about Tess’s age. He was good looking, tall and broad and strong, with salt and pepper hair and a scruffy beard. His eyes were dark and serious.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I’m probably in the way of your dinner, I should get going.” You felt suddenly that you were intruding. This must be Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something. Tess turned back to you, and put a hand on your shoulder as you started to stand.

“No! Please stay a while. Don’t pay Joel any mind.” She introduced him as her partner and didn’t specify if this was a business partner or an intimate one, and you didn’t ask. Tess looked at Joel again, smiling.

“Don’t leave on account of me, sugar. Maybe I’ll join you ladies. That alright?” He took the chair across from you at the small table, and Tess sat another glass on the table in front of Joel and poured his drink before refilling your glass. “Tess tells me you’re new to the QZ, staying over in the shelter. That’s a dangerous place for a young girl. ‘Specially one on her own.”

“It hasn’t been too bad so far” you spoke, pushing down the nerves that had started to stir in your belly. “I think it’s all starting to work out.” You smiled at Joel and then at Tess. “Tess has been a lot of help.”

Joel smiled back, and his knee bumped yours under the table. Your face and chest felt warm, either from the alcohol or from the way Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down. His gaze began to feel heavy, it made you feel like you should keep talking, even though he was silent now. You were grateful when you felt Tess’s hand back on your shoulder, heavier this time.

“Are you feeling ok, sweetheart? Drinks catching up with you?” She chuckled “Maybe you should take the couch for the night, I’m not sure we can take you back to the shelter like this.”

She was probably right. The alcohol had made you feel hot and floaty and disoriented. It had been a long time since you drank like this and on a mostly empty stomach. You probably shouldn’t have accepted that third drink, but it felt so good to just hang out with a friend.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“No bother, sugar.” Joel spoke. “Sleep on the couch and Tess can walk you back in the morning. I’m sure she’ll get you to help her carry supplies while she’s at it. This is a win for her.” Joel sounded reasonable and his confidence was disarming you.

“Might as well have another drink since you’re staying!” Tess chirped as she topped up all of your glasses. You smiled into your glass and never noticed the look that passed between Joel and Tess.

Joel picked up the three glasses and moved them to the coffee table in front of the shabby couch so you could all sit more comfortably. You didn’t even remember walking to the living room. You were all talking, laughing, smiling. You head was spinning, but you liked feeling so relaxed.

The next thing you remember is feeling Tess sliding closer to you on the couch and putting her hand on your thigh while she leaned in to place a light kiss at the corner of your mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and you didn’t want her to stop. You felt another hand on your thigh and looked down to see Joel’s wide, paddle-like hand gripping you. Your eyes followed his arm up to his neck and his jaw and his lips. They were close to yours and in an instant they were pressed to yours. His kiss was harder than Tess’s. More insistent.

You felt uneasy again, but once more pushed your feelings aside, deciding to just go with it. You’ve got new friends now and they like to drink and kiss. Maybe that’s how it is in the QZ; maybe you liked drinking and kissing too. You kissed him back and felt him hum approvingly.

Tess was still beside you. “You know, Joel can help you. He helped me out when I came to the QZ.” She spoke softly into your ear, and moved her hand from your thigh to the buttons of your shirt, her other hand wrapping around you to meet it and she nimbly undid a button, playing with the fabric of your shirt and running her fingertips lightly over your newly exposed skin before moving to the next button. Her mouth went to your neck as she worked, kissing your soft skin.

You swallowed thickly and your chest heaved. Is this really happening? Joel leaned back and watched Tess making quick work of your clothes, and when he spoke his voice sounded lower and slower.

“I know it’s hard around here for pretty young girls. Know it’s not safe. Maybe y’need someone to look out for you.” Had you noticed his accent before? It was southern and you found it really alluring, the way some of his words melted together. “It’s good to stick t’gether in a place like this. Have somebody on your side.”

You couldn’t form words. Tess had made her way to your bra and was running her fingers under the band, your nipples hardening at her touch. Joel’s eyes were trained on your tits, and his hand gripped your thigh higher, his thumb pushing between your thighs, dangerously close to your now soaked and throbbing pussy. He kissed you again, tilting his chin to meet your lips and kissing deeply. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue in your mouth.

Your heart was pounding. You licked at his tongue gently, and he swallowed your soft moans. Tess had one hand on your stomach and one hand cupping your breast now. She whispered sweetly, “Why don’t you bring your stuff back here tomorrow? You can help us and we can help you.”

It sounded perfectly reasonable. You nodded, eyes closed, leaning your head back to kiss her again, letting your lips linger, soaking up her sweetness before tipping back into Joel’s kiss. His hands were on your hips, squeezing gently, and Tess was popping the button on your jeans, easing the zipper down.

You wished you could reach her to return her touches in kind, but Joel had a firm grip on you now, so you just unbuttoned his shirt, hoping it was ok with Tess, you still weren’t clear on what kind of partnership they had and you didn’t want to misstep.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” She whispered. “I think he likes you.” That sounded like permission.

Joel’s thumbs hooked under your waistband and tugged your jeans down, pushing you back into Tess’s chest as he slid them down your thighs, pulling your panties with them.

He sat back on the couch, palming his stiffening cock, and marveling at the sight before him. “Look at our girl, Tess. Real pretty.”

Tess hummed in agreement and squeezed your tits together, her own naked chest pressing into your back.

You’d never had a threesome, but this was the hottest thing you’d ever done. You loved feeling like their play thing. Whatever was between them, you didn’t care. You had never been so turned on.

“You feel good, sugar? Gonna let me touch you the way you need?” “

“Yes, Joel, want to feel you.”

He chuckled and groaned at your enthusiasm. “Lean back, baby.”

You were laying on the couch between them now, your head in Tess’s naked lap, one hand holding hers, the other running through Joel’s thick wavy hair as he pressed his tongue against your wet seam.

Tess’s hand moved between your tits, massaging gently and running her thumb over your peaks. She lowered her mouth to yours, kissing you softly and slowly, your tongues mingling, your senses overwhelmed at their combined touches. Joel was working away at your wet cunt, alternating between long slow licks and quick firm flicks of his tongue over your swollen clit. The sounds of sucking, smacking, and soft wet sounds filled the air, it was pornographic and you wished you could see what you all must look like.

You were already panting when Joel pushed a thick callused finger into your willing entrance, and the sudden fullness forcing a low moan from deep in your throat.

You felt that lovely tightening in your belly, sending sparks down your hips, and building to a crescendo. Just as you approached the edge, your vision becoming dark around the corners, he slipped a second finger in, pulling you tight and working them in deeply, and sucked hard on your bundle of nerves.

You were a goner. You bucked and gasped, your head falling back into Tess’s lap.

“Good girl, baby. Good fuckin’ girl.” Joel slid his fingers out but gently brushed his slick fingers over your swollen lips, making you suck them clean as you rode out your orgasm. “You picked a good one this time, Tess. Let’s see if she can handle a cock now.”

He was so lewd! You’d blush if you weren’t still spinning out from your climax.

Tess slid off the couch and sat beside it, scooting down so that her head was near your hips.

“I knew you’d love her, Joel. She’s gorgeous. Just your type, and so sweet.”

Joel paused to smile at Tess, and leaned down to kiss her. It was a tender kiss, the first time you saw them touching each other, you realized. It made you feel a little awkward to be laying on the couch totally nude next to them. It was over as quickly as it began, though and Joel turned his attention back to you. He leaned down on one elbow to support his weight while the other hand cradled your jaw as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

He groaned and let his hips drop against your core, and you let your knees fall open to accommodate him. He was still dressed, you never got further than unbottoning a few buttons of his denim shirt. You could feel his length pressing against your core, you slipped your hand down to palm him.

He felt big. Big, big. Too big, you worried. He must have sensed your hesitation.

“Want to see it, baby? See if you think you can handle my big cock?”

Tess was behind him now and wrapped her arms around his waist to unbuckle his belt and release him from his jeans.

“You’re in for a treat, sweetheart. Joel knows what he’s doing. Might be sore tomorrow though.” She smiled at the last part and reached down to grip his cock. Joel turned to kiss her once more, then she returned to her spot beside the couch.

Joel planted open mouthed kisses along your chin and neck, trailed down your chest, his movements unhurried, like he was just taking you in. Your skin cooled under each kiss when he moved to the next and underscored your arousal. He made his way to your breasts and sucked your nipple into his mouth as he squeezed and pressed the other, he sucked firmly, and nibbled down the side of your breast before turning the same attention to the next. Joel drove you mad with desire, you lifted your hips, wanting to feel his turgid member against your aching pussy.

“You can’t wait to get fucked, can you baby girl? You gonna beg for it, sweet thing?”

“Please, Joel!”

“Please what, baby?”

You groaned into his shoulder. “Please, Joel. Fuck me please. I need to feel your cock. Want it so bad, Joel.”

You were breathless and wanton, Joel hummed approvingly.

“You sure ask nicely. I just might give it to you.”

You whimpered and drove your hips up again, this time you felt his hot, thick length slide over your folds. You could come just from that alone, but you were desperate to feel full of him. You couldn’t stay quiet and Joel seemed to feed off of your noise. Moaning, panting, crying out his name, it drove him wild. He loved hearing what he did to you, loved that he had the power to turn you into a needy mess.

He reached down to slap his cock against your seeping and sensitive folds, paying special attention to your clit, making you cry out once more.

When he couldn’t wait any longer, he pressed the smooth, thick head to your entrance.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, sugar. Go ahead. You want it, you take it.”

Tess giggled at that. She had been quiet, watching and lazily rubbing her own naked sex, enjoying her front row seat to you and Joel’s erotic coupling. She slid her fingers down to gather the pooling slick, and spread it over her clit. She would make herself come when you did. You lifted your hips and tried in vain to push him inside you. You couldn’t get enough leverage, you were just driving yourself crazy, he was right there but you couldn’t get him inside, no matter how your wiggled. You broke.

“Please, Joel!” You were desperate now, out of your head.

Joel kissed your neck once more. “Alright, baby. But remember, I warned you.”

He pushed slowly and firmly, working the head just past your entrance and you were frozen beneath him. The sting of him stretching you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you knew you couldn’t take him all.

Joel was still, knowing you’d need time to get accustomed to his size. When he felt you move against him again, he continued, pushing further now, and backing out just slightly before going deeper. Two steps forward, one step back.

“So goddamn tight, sugar. Ain’t you ever been fucked by a big cock before?”

You couldn’t answer, but the work “gigantic” came to mind, along with memories of your first boyfriend, who came in his pants before you could have sex, and the guy after him who had fucked you, but who was so interested in his own joy that he never made you cum.

You felt far away from everything that was happening. Eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, the only thing in the universe now was you and Joel. Everything else fell away and was swallowed by darkness.

You snapped back when you felt Tess reach between you and Joel, seeking your clit to rub gentle circles, distracting you from the stinging further down. Her touch was just what you needed. You relaxed your hips and felt them open a little, giving Joel more room to work. He quickened his pace, his own climax gathering in his belly, he was less gentle now and you were panting hard, no coherent words forming. With one more thrust, he was all the way seated, and you could feel him at your cervix.

He felt pride at how he had you so fucked out. He looked down at you, cheeks and chest flushed, sweat beading on your forehead, lips swollen and puffy. He swung his hips back and fucked into you again and again. You were close. Tess had turned her attention to your swollen, sensitive clit again, and was kissing the side of your face, your neck, your ear and whispering praise to you.

“You’re taking him so well, baby. Look how you take that cock. You’re so fucking beautiful like this. I want you to come for us, babe. Come while he’s got that huge cock buried deep in your pussy.”

Her words and her touch and his heavy strokes were too much. Your body jerked, and your orgasm took control. Your legs locked around him and kept him inside you. When the crashing wave subsided, Joel resumed his thrusts, faster now, getting sloppy and out of rhythm. He was close.

“Where you want me sugar? Don’t say inside.”

You answered him with a moan and he pulled out fast, rubbing out his orgasm against your hip with a deep, throaty groan.

“You’re perfect, baby girl. Absolutely perfect.”

Joel and Tess leaned close and you shared kisses before Tess disappeared and returned quickly with a wet towel for each of you and a few glasses of water. Joel cleaned himself, then you. His touch was gentle and caring. You sipped your water in a daze, unsure what to do or say. You’d just fucked Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something with her blessing, and you’re not sure what to do now.

You excused yourself to the bathroom and grabbed your shirt and panties. Neither of them were getting dressed, so you just slipped on your shirt without buttoning it, and put your panties back on. You already felt your hips and inner thighs aching, and you were feeling sleepy. When you returned to the living room, Joel had taken up the middle seat on the couch, and Tess was tucked under his right arm, nuzzling his chest. You sat on his left, and he pulled you onto his chest as well. He was serene as you and Tess laced your fingers together.

You must have fallen asleep. When you woke up, you were still on the couch, a pillow under your head and a blanket tucked around you. Your head was pounding and you felt sticky, sore, and like you needed a shower.

The memory of the night before flooded back, and you felt something like embarrassment, but not quite. You didn’t regret it, at least what you remembered. You wondered if they’d meant what they said about helping them and them helping you. You wondered if that was just referring to the sex. It seemed like they meant something more, but you didn’t want to bring it up and make things weird. You weren’t even sure how you could help them, but you decided to think about that later.

You yawned and stretched and when Tess saw you moving, she brought you more water.

“Hey sweetie. You feel ok?” There she was. The kind Tess you knew. It was reassuring to hear her talk so sweetly to you. “Joel went out to find breakfast for us, then he’s going to go with you to the shelter to get the rest of your things. We talked it over and decided you should stay here. Until FEDRA finds you a place, you’d be safer and more comfortable with us.” How could you argue with that?

“Really, Tess. The shelter is fine. I’m sure it won’t be long and—“

“You’re not going to convince Joel of any of that, so you might as well just get your stuff and bring it here.”

You didn’t have a response.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #Joel x Tess x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x tess servopoulos #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #bat writes #smut #joel x reader #joel miller

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devnmon · 1 year

Text

Long, Long Time.

'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long, long time

Summary: Irrevocably in love with the woman you can’t have, a wine drunk night over classical reading and a fireplace aids in decision making.

Ao3 version | tess masterlist

prequel fic

Warnings: smut [a tiny bit], reader hopelessly in love with Tess, use of y/n (a couple times); based on ep 3 of TLOU

wc: 13k

A/n: Okay ummm first of all don’t blame me for writing this much on one character that i’ve never written before, but this fic is literally my baby. It’s my favorite thing i’ve written. I thought it was my turn to take a spin with writing for Tess. Since tlou came out i’ve been obsessed with her and… well you can tell by how much I wrote. Here it is, my perfect Tess fic. Enjoy <3

Today was the day.

A warm morning in September, 20 years after the Cordyceps infection sunk into the deepest depths of society, crumbling down its once high, strong walls, to a brittle, cracked dictatorship of community. The Boston Quarantine Zone was one of your least favorite places in the world, but from what you heard about other cities' QZ's, it was a walk in the park.

As a smuggler, you handled runs for more than 75% of the place, with the help of a few desperate FEDRA officers that offered to look the other way for a price.

If risking your life for bottles of pills and useful supplies was the most dangerous thing to do, then so be it; you were the unlucky one.

Most runs, you were accompanied by one of your two partners, Tess Servopolous or Joel Miller. They were older, skilled, smart, and resourceful, and they knew how to kill. Especially Tess. She could handle her own like it was nobody's business. Hard headed and courageous, Tess became a good partner and soon enough, a close friend.

Although, there was another part of you that found her alluring, captivating and so, so gorgeous. She was confident in herself no matter what, which only drew you towards her more.

Ever since the early days of the outbreak, you three had each other's backs, and nothing could come between you. To you, they were the only thing you'd known after being found by the older woman and taken in. The day she found you, beat up and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

Now a part of Joel and Tess's smuggling business, you were off to a town called Lincoln, a five hour hike from the walls of the QZ.

The hot sun glared down on your skin, a chill September breeze flowing in gusts that kept you cooled off enough throughout your journey.

A majority of the trip was spent in silence, lost in your enamor for Tess, eyes trailing over the back of her figure. She had glanced back once or twice at you, like she could feel your eyes burning into her body.

Some nights you lay awake wondering what it would be like to drag your fingers up and down the expanses of her skin, trailing over her back and caressing the soft skin of her figure till you fell asleep.

Time passed as you traveled behind Tess and Joel, and the image of a metal fence coming into view.

"This is it," Joel stated before approaching the gate. You begin to follow the two older individuals before you pause, stopping a minute to remember something that Frank had mentioned about their gate.

"Wait, I thought you said this thing was booby-trapped or something.. How do we know it won't get triggered?" The concern of your safety was imminent, the unknown patiently waiting behind the metal gates.

"Well we don't, but Frank said if we came from the road instead of the forest that it wouldn't get triggered. They'd see us coming that way, too. Trust me, I know Frank. He wouldn't lie, not when he knows we can work together."

Tess was the expert on the two men that lived behind the gates of the completely deserted town; she was the one who arranged their meeting, after all.

"Alright.." You sighed, walking right up to the gate with them.

There was a box attached to the entry gate with a few buttons on it. You watched Joel walk up to the gate and press a button labeled 'Call'.

A loud buzzing sounded out after he'd pushed the red button in, and a moment later, a male voice responded from the intercom.

"Password."

The voice sounded deeper than Frank's, only assuming the speaker was Bill, the other half of the couple that resided in Lincoln.

"Uh- Ahem," Joel cleared his throat, before stating the code word Frank had given you three before coming.

The feedback rang out as Joel spoke, another buzzing sound coming from the gate as you hear it unlock.

"Alright, let's go. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, since we really don't know what we're walkin' into here."

Tess scoffed at her male partner's words, a smirk on her face saying otherwise from your tense anxiety of meeting new people.

"Tess, hey," you grabbed her arm ever so softly as you trailed behind her, and she looked toward you, "Are you sure we can trust these guys?"

A tiny smile formed on her face as she recognized your nervousness. She thought it was adorable and sweet how you went to her for comfort at any point in time. It warmed her heart and made her feel important to somebody again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Frank wouldn't hurt a fly. Bill on the other hand.. he might be a bit standoffish at first. From what Frank said, I'm sure he'll warm up to us with time. Don't worry."

Tess rubbed your arm up and down a couple times, hoping it would soothe your worries. As she did, your face broke out into a small smile, nodding before you dropped your grip and continued walking. You could get lost in the hazel of her eyes like it was hypnosis, or something close to that. The way Tess made your world stop by even being in your presence was something entirely familiar to you, and it kept you up at night, pondering about the simplest things.

It seemed the little town of Lincoln, Massachusetts was surrounded by this perfect bubble of safety and security. Like a dream, the familiarity of a place as different from the QZ.. felt a bit unreal. You never thought you'd have the chance to make friends in a world with infected, much less one with access to such a large range of supplies in a deserted town, highly protected by its sole residents.

The feeling surrounding you was oddly similar to how you felt around Tess, her warmth and beauty heart-warming, much like a hug.

Your focus is brought back to reality as you almost bump into Tess's back, her and Joel had abruptly stopped walking.

"Oof- sorry Tess-"

"Y/n.." Joel says abruptly, not realizing they're both holding their hands out to the side, the cocking of what sounded like a gun putting the realization into place.

"Shit.." You whispered, stepping out from behind Tess, arms out in the same fashion as your partners, and you realize there's a man holding a gun out at the three of you.

Then, from the house the man stood in front of, another man came running out. He calls the name of the man who's holding his pistol at you, Bill.

Which means.. that's Frank. You thought to yourself, as the sweater-wearing man approached and tried to beckon the other man to lower his weapon.

"Bill, these are the people I met over the radio. We can trust them.. they aren't going to hurt us. Put the gun down, please? I don't want to scare off people we could potentially be working with.." The man named Frank said with a chuckle, almost having to force the gun down himself. After another moment of brooding stares being passed between Bill and Joel, he lowers the gun and places it in his holster at his thigh.

Your hands drop to your sides after freezing with them out in the air due to fear. It wasn't the first time someone's pointed a gun at you, but it sure as hell was one of the times you thought someone would actually shoot. Relief washed over you as Bill's arms lowered.

"Perfect, thank you," Frank says to Bill, before wrapping his arm around the man's shoulder, "Welcome to our home, I'm Frank, and this is Bill. I'm so glad to finally meet you guys. We have a lot to talk about! Come on, follow me."

Frank had a home-like smile that was warm and welcoming. It was the first time in a long time you'd seen anyone smile like that. So carefree. You guessed it was the effect of not being behind the walls of a QZ for too long. That, or Frank knew how to stay true to himself in such a rugged, rough around the edges world.

The uncomfortable gaze Bill shot your way made you realize that it probably took a lot for him to even agree to let the three of you come into their town, much less want to work with complete strangers.

While being led back to Bill and Frank's home, you can't help but marvel at everything around you. Lincoln was much different than the QZ and open city; a town quite literally frozen in time from when it had been evacuated. A place like this was one you dreamed of settling down in, with a partner before the outbreak; it seemed like the perfect place to do so. Quiet, quaint, and bare of any infected or dangerous militia and resistance groups.

As their home came into view, it was exactly as you thought it'd be: another one of the huge houses a place like suburbia always had. It was one of the biggest you'd ever seen, almost out of a storybook. Except for the leaves blowing through the streets, it was as if the house hadn't aged a day. Everything about their home and its surrounding yard looked as if it had been tended to regularly; a mowed lawn, bushes with budding flowers, and not a single area of chipped paint to be seen.

"This is our place, I do my best to keep it looking its best and Bill... well he's just one hell of a cook. Aren't you, dear?" Frank turned to Bill with a smile, only to look away from his lover and back at you three.

"It's true, one of the many things I'm good at. Including defending my home." Bill's hand went to the gun strapped on his thigh.

"Yes, of course you are. Now, could you whip us up some lunch while I get to know our lovely guests here?" Frank turns his head towards Bill again.

"But-" Bill begins to speak, wanting to name all the reasons he doesn't want to leave his lover alone with strangers. Though, you notice Frank is quick to reassure Bill that everything will be alright.

"I'll be fine, I promise. They aren't going to hurt me, I've been extra careful with who I talk to, you know that. These people aren't dangerous. At least not to us." Frank's smile breaks Bill's resolve, trusting his lover enough to retreat into the house with haste.

Now alone with Frank, he guides the three of you over to the table on their lawn. You sit down next to Tess on your right side and Frank on the left.

"So.. Tess, I assume the lovely man you arrived with is the famous Joel Miller?" Frank turned to Joel with his hand out, receiving a firm handshake and nod from the Texan man.

"And you must be..." He turns to you.

"I'm y/n, the secret.. not-so-secret third partner." You laughed awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place with the man and woman.

"That's right, I've only heard your name a handful of times, but it is so nice to finally meet you in person." Frank read your nervous state like a book, giving you peace of mind with a warm smile. Your nervous state diminishes when Frank's words set in, easing a smile onto your face and raising your eyebrows in slight surprise.

He's heard of me? I wonder what Tess's told him...

"It's nice to meet you too, Frank."

The four of you conversed with small talk, only butting in here and there to add something in, mostly keeping to yourself and not wanting to make the wrong impression on Frank. Tess and Joel discuss the details of a trading business between you all.

Soon enough, Bill began to come out with plates and silverware, to which Frank jumped up to help with setting the table.

"I can help if-" You started to speak, feeling a little guilty at not doing anything to help out as a guest.

"No, no. Sit, relax. You're our guests here, and I'm sure your trip has been long and tiring. Besides, it's been a while since I've set the table for more people than just me and Bill, and it's something I've always loved doing." Frank's kind smile once again eases your worries. But you swore to yourself you'd find a way to repay them for this.

You nodded as the two men made several trips to set the table, appreciating every little thing they added to it one after another. Spices, napkins, fine china plates and silverware with no scratches or rust on them. It was all a marvelous sight, one that reminded you of the old world and missing little things like this in times like these.

The amount of objects they'd placed on the table made you forget just how many of those material things you realized living without was doable. Even if you wished there were more aspects of the old world in the present one.

Fiddling with your thumbs again, you listened in to Joel and Tess's muttering about whether or not they could convince the two males on agreeing to work together, until you heard an exclamation from Tess.

"Oh my god.."

Your head jolted up towards the woman, about to ask her the reason for her outburst, until you picked up what had caught her attention.

The smell of fresh, hot food surrounded the three of you, hunger scraping at the edges of your stomach, making it even more evident that your last meal hadn't been as much of a hearty one as you'd wished. Dishes with meat and vegetables were all neatly placed in the same portion sizes as Frank and Bill put each plate down.

Before you dug in, you heard a familiar pop of cork from what you could only assume was a wine bottle. Sure enough, as you looked at Frank, the bottle he'd brought out resembled one you'd buy for a nice meal like this.

It wasn't until you heard the same cocking of Bill's pistol that you froze in your place. You watched as he placed it on the table for you all to see, a statement of protection and untrustworthiness he clearly still saw in the three of you.

Maybe not you or Tess specifically, but Joel, most definitely.

You decide to ignore the firearm's presence on the table, and begin eating the food that's so delicately placed on each of your plates. Instead of scarfing it all down like some rabid animal, you savored each bite of the flavorful, nutritious food and sip of wine like it was your last.

It might as well have been, since you had no idea whether or not you would be working together.

You wondered how people even ate on china plates that were as delicate and prettily detailed in the most extravagant ways. The silverware and wine glasses were also detailed and etched in such a beautiful way. It made you appreciate the smallest things before you had to go without them again.

A while passes, and everyone's finishing their food up. Light gusts of wind flow through Tess's hair as you look over to her, holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Well, this really is just-- it's amazing." A slight smile on her face brings warmth to your chest, heating your body despite the cool air.

"Right?" Frank looks from Tess to Bill, who still has his pistol on the table, "Can you not please?"

He reaches over Tess's glass to fill it with the dark red alcohol, then reaches over to yours to do the same as you smile at him.

"I'm the same way," Joel states, understanding where Bill's actions are coming from. You realized in that moment that Bill and Joel are more alike than you thought.

"Oh, you're a paranoid schizophrenic too?" There's a slight chuckle that sounds out from you and Tess as Frank speaks.

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill suddenly retorts, knowing the validity behind the methods to his madness.

Tess clears her throat, attempting to break the awkward tension that's so clearly grown between Bill and Joel.

"Well can I just say, gun aside, which I get, by the way, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It's been so long. I mean it, I just- I wanna thank you. Even if we don't end up working together. I really needed this."

Her words seemed genuine, a slight twinge of silent and repressed pain in what she said. You only knew an extent of Tess's emotional wounds, ones she pushed down to do her job better.

As Frank lifts his wine glass to Tess with a small smile, he states, "We are working together."

The two clink their glasses together, making you raise yours to do the same.

"Cheers." Tess and Frank clink their glasses, and then Tess turns to you in the same fashion, quickly lifting your glass to clink together.

You all finish up your meals, occasionally glancing over to Tess with appreciation that you got to share something this special with your best friend.

And then the realization hit you, she was only your best friend, and you'd wanted to be more with her since she'd revealed a different side of her to you throughout the years. It was a kind, warm, caring side of Tess that made her feel like the familiarity of those strawberry candies that were hard on the outside, but soft, sweet and gooey on the inside. Tess was rough around the edges, but when she was alone with you were the times she revealed a softer side of herself.

Frank hadn't glanced anywhere other than Tess and Joel, picking up the way they discussed with one another, as if they were good business partners and friends. He'd been blinded by the fact that you sat furthest from Joel, barely even glancing his way for a split second.

The moment Frank gets a good look at you at the table is when he picks up on the way you look at Tess; it's different than the way you look at Bill and Joel, and by god does it open his eyes a mile wide. He only hides it behind his all-knowing warm persona and recognizes a light in your eyes that he saw similarly in Bill's the minute before he'd kissed him, that one day in 2007. Three years later, he saw that same spark of light in you, whenever your eyes glazed over to the only other woman at the table.

The warm younger man looks to his partner, who's anything but, to reassure you all again.

"We are." A moment passes as he sips from the wine glass and speaks again, "You know what? Let's go inside. Tess and y/n, I wanna show you something."

Frank begins to stand, lifting his wine glass from the table, Tess following next before you stand as well.

"Oh yes, it sounds amazing, I'd love to see inside." Now more sociable with the two glasses of wine in your system, you catch your balance before pushing your chair out from the table.

"Actually, I have been wanting to see inside, thank you."

Your words and Tess's overlap at the same time, chuckling a little at the synchronized movements and words between you and the older woman.

"Bring your wine. There's more inside."

"No, not inside. Frank.. Frank!" Bill's voice echoes from the table, as Frank holds the front door open for you two.

You're looking down at your feet as you walk up the porch and into the house, unaware that Tess was glancing back every few seconds to see if you followed. As you step inside, you wipe your boots off on the mat and Frank shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes finally pull away from the mat you've wiped your boots off on, to the inside of Bill and Frank's home. A deep breath of air fills your lungs to the brim as the sight of it all is a bit overwhelming.

"Wow..." you sigh, Frank stood behind you, Tess a few feet ahead, "I haven't seen anything like this in so.. long..."

You trail off as the sight of it all renders you speechless. There's candelabras with fresh wax from candles and picture frames with black and white photos. The image of inside makes it feel like a home, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Come on, it's right over here." Frank speaks out loud to the both of you, only you're still standing a few feet in front of the door, as the two walk into the open room just right of the stairway.

"Oh wow, look at these photo albums! I haven't seen one of these in forever.. Are they all Bill's?" Tess's voice carries to you from the other room, noticing her slight chuckle as you gaze over to where she's flipping through one of the albums.

"Yeah, yeah they are. Just don't tell him I showed you.." The two continue to giggle to themselves over the old pictures.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice the extensive vinyl collection.. You know, I used to have a turntable back in college. I'd play the same old records every day, annoyed the hell out of my roommates.." Tess chuckles as she talks about her past life, something you always enjoyed hearing about when she brought it up.

With you, she could bring up anything from her old life, and you'd listen to every word.

You still had the suspicion that she and Joel had a thing going on, and your not-so-little crush on her was doing more harm for you than good in that aspect.

Tess and Frank are looking through the collections of vinyl and photos while you nonchalantly watch from afar, eyes glazing over to the massive shelves of books. Most of the ones on lower shelves were Bill's books on survival and guns, but the ones resting on the higher shelves were classics.

Before the outbreak, you'd been a sucker for those. There was something about the art of classic literature, the subtext and deeper meanings under every word. The beauty of those stories was unmatched.

I'd love to read one of those over some wine.. Matter of fact-

"Hey Frank? Where's that other bottle of wine?" You call out to him from the doorway, with your glass still in hand. Frank glances over to you from a few feet away.

"It's in the fridge, wine opener is uh- somewhere in there. You'll find it."

"Okay, thanks."

You finally break off from the two, eyes glazing over every single picture Bill and Frank have of themselves in their home, as well as the paintings Frank's done of Bill and himself.

Striding into the other room, the kitchen was in a state of what looked freshly used; pots and pans were everywhere, the scent of once heated oil lingering.

Your curious eyes peel over all the older pictures, then notice one in color that's stuck to the fridge with a rainbow magnet.

A twinge in your chest comes as well as joy for the two men that happened to find each other among a world of infected and dictatorships.

You just wish it would have happened to you already.

Bill must have had some vintage cameras lying around, ones Frank knew how to use, or learned to use for things like this. You crouched closer to look at the picture of the two men, bodies pressed together and hands clasped in each other's like they never wanted to let go.

And in such a world, why would they want to?

You pull the refrigerator door open, spotting the unopened bottle of red wine in the door. Reaching for it, you read the label, Beaujolais.

Huh, fancy name for a wine. It'll get me drunk all the same though.. Now where is that damn cork opener?

You're rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until you finally find it, oblivious to the fact that Tess has walked up behind you in your haste to find the damn thing. Her grey shirt is unbuttoned, with a white tee underneath. She always had the simplest style, but it didn't stop her from looking fucking stunning in anything she wore. Tess makes her presence known to you, arms folded across her chest as she leans against the doorway. Picturesque light chestnut strands of hair frame the soft features of her face.

"Whatcha got there?" your body whips around, wine bottle and opener in each of your hands (and almost slipping from them), to which Tess smirks a little at the sight.

You were surprised to not have heard the sound of her boots on the wooden floor, but Tess always had a way of surprising you like that.

You smile sheepishly, raising the bottle and wine opener in both your hands. Truth was, Tess popped in at the perfect time; you could never get the hang of opening things like this.

Opening bottles of liquor for you was always Tess's thing, since you didn't have the skill or strength for it. Your hands were just naturally smaller than hers as well, which meant it was only a job for a person with bigger hands.

How you wished you could hold them.

"Just in time. Could you open this for me? It's more your thing than mine.. Please? Before I drop it or something.."

Tess strides towards you and grabs both objects from your hands. She inserts the opener into the cork and twists until the similar pop from earlier indicates she'd removed it, the wine's aroma filling the area between you two.

Her strength was so attractive, the way she could make the simplest things such as opening a wine bottle look hot. The veins in her hands protruded when her grip strained, making you wonder what her hands would look like doing different things.

Tess lifts the cork to her nose, smelling the wine more intensely now, looking angelic as she breaths it in. Then, she lifts it to your nose, the gesture so familiar to you, but yet you've never seen Tess in a moment like this before.

The scent of the liquor paired with how Tess looks in the sunlight peering through the window is intoxicating in itself, as she places the bottle on the counter. Glancing outside, the golden light began to fade fast, darkness approaching quicker than you'd like it to.

With a smile, you walk over to the countertop and pour yourself another glass of wine.

"Thanks... you'll have to teach me that sometime." You couldn't tell if the flush on your cheeks was from the wine, or the gesture Tess just did for you.

"Yeah, but then what would you need me for?" Tess cocks her head to the side, a slight smirk on her face again. That damn smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

As if I could ever go without you, Theresa.

"Oh, please. I'll always need you, Tess."

"Right.. So, Frank said we could stay the night, since it's more dangerous to travel when it isn't daytime. Our visit was longer than expected.." Tess's eyes move from you to outside, where Bill and Joel were still sat, discussing in what looked like a more civilized way than earlier.

"They have enough room for us?" You asked, sipping at the red wine.

"Yeah, they've got two extra bedrooms. So, I figure you and I could share one and give Joel the other room for himself. Plus they said we could use their shower," Tess shuffled closer to you and lowered her voice, "I hear they have hot water.."

Your eyes widened at the thought of a hot shower, something you hadn't realized was accessible anymore. Though, before speaking, you cleared your throat to minimize any indication of nervousness in the fact that you and Tess would be sharing a bed tonight.

"You sure you wouldn't rather room with Joel? I.. move around a lot in my sleep."

A confused look displays itself across Tess's face.

"I mean- I wouldn't want you to wake up with me on top of you or.. anything.." A nervous chuckle erupts from your chest as you laugh your awkwardness off.

"I think that second bottle of wine is what I should be worried about, not your restlessness." She smirks again, "But have fun with that. I'm gonna go wash up. Talk later?"

You only nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend any more.

As Tess left the room, the strain of your journey finally set in. Soles of your feet began to twinge with pain, carrying you to the next room with the wine bottle and glass in hand.

You saunter into the living room, the amount of wine you've consumed making your cheeks, not to mention your whole body, flush with heat. The weight of your figure flopped down in a corner of the room as you placed the wine bottle down.

You gulped at the rest of the liquid in your glass, putting it on the side table. Gazing around the room at all the vintage items in perfect condition, your eyes meet the tall shelf of classic literature once again.

Pulling yourself from the chair, you pick up the bottle of wine by its neck, instead of pouring yourself another glass.

They're not gonna miss one little bottle... they've got a whole vineyard to themselves.

It's then you hear the front door open finally, Bill and Joel coming in, their discussion a little lighter than the one they were having earlier. You hear a chuckle fall from Joel in his Texan accent and your eyebrows raise.

Wow, they're finally getting along. Maybe we will have new business partners after all..

You stumble over to the bookshelf, about three glasses of wine making your bodily strength diminish with every sip you took. You were in a more tipsy state than usual; not having drank alcohol for years had more of an effect on you than it usually would.

The higher bookshelves are littered with dust, not having been touched since who knows when; you're just tall enough to drag your fingers across the top shelf on your tippy toes, the one below it littered with the many classic stories.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence, Emma by Jane Austen.

You read the titles off in your head, fingers trickling over the necks of each hardcover novel, stopping at Little Women and pulling it from the bookshelf. You also grabbed Pride and Prejudice, planning to ask Frank or Bill in the morning to borrow them till your next visit.

Slumping over in the chair again, you open Little Women, pages crinkling as the smell of the vintage book hits your face. It almost makes you sneeze, but you stifle it and begin reading.

You're mumbling to yourself in the little cozy corner of Frank and Bill's house, perched in a red armchair, and it's the most domestic you've ever seen yourself be in a long time. Granted, you were becoming more intoxicated with each gulp of the bitter alcohol you ingested. It floods your insides with warmth, your train of thought sidetracking from the story in your hand to the thought of the gorgeous woman that was Tess Servopolous.

She felt like home, the sweet smile she revealed to you your favorite thing about her. Her hardened exterior cracked and withered away bit by bit with every day you lay in her apartment healing from your injuries.

You're pulled out of the daydream when footsteps descend down the stairway, until the figure turns the corner. Frank's face comes into the warm lamp light, silently walking into the room and fiddling around with a few things before making his way over nearby where you sat.

Over the edges of the book, you watch him grab a few logs of firewood, placing one in the brick fire pit, before lowering your eyes back to the book. A few more minutes pass of his fidgeting before you realize the fireplace has come alive with flames of light.

Waves of heat flood the room, completely bringing your attention away from the book in your hands.

"No way..." Your voice draws Frank's eyes to you.

"Way. You know, my favorite thing to do in the fall is make fires.. Bonfires, campfires, any kind of natural warmth feels so home-like and safe. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah.. my childhood home had such a nice fireplace like this. It's really nice to see and feel again after so long." The two of you share a smile and look at the fire. Flames crackle and burn high, popping at times, the same way it used to before. Silence is adamant throughout the room, clutching the novel in your arms as the flames continue to burn.

"So.. you gonna tell me what's got you slumped over in a corner reading classic literature? I can't imagine it's that riveting.." Frank's tone tells you that he's joking, but you can't help from being at least a little offended in your drunken state.

"Classic literature is actually my favorite genre of novel, for your information. And you wouldn't get it…" The irony of your words slaps you in the face the minute they manifest themselves because.. Frank does know what it's like to feel the way you do. He’s just still in the dark about it.

"Hey, hey. You can tell me what's going on. I may or... may not have any experience on what you're going through."

Then the realization sets in that he's probably felt the way you do his whole life.

It's at that moment you decide to trust him. You close the book over, and look Frank in the eye.

"Okay, but this stays between us. Promise?"

"Of course."

A sigh leaves your chest and you begin to tell him how you feel about a certain one of your smuggling partners.

"Tess saved me... however many years ago it was... I can't remember how long it's been now. I've just always been around her since then. She's done things for me and- and I've done things for her... But I never knew why I always wanted to be around her.. until one night when I had a really, really rough day and she comforted me. I never wanted to leave her arms, and that's when I realized.. I liked her. She's my best friend, Frank.. What would I do if she doesn't feel the same? I don't think I could live with myself if I ruin our friendship because of some stupid fucking crush."

You finished speaking, letting out another sigh like you'd just thrown up all the thoughts reverberating in your head the second you made it out of the QZ walls.

Frank's silent until he speaks, analyzing and connecting dots in his head about this afternoon and the way you'd been acting.

"All that... doesn't sound just like a little crush to me, hon. You love her.. and you want what's best for her. Protecting yourself from the hypothetical hurt of her not feeling the same is valid.. but you're not gonna know how she feels about you if you don't tell her. Take the night, and think on it. Or... go ahead and keep on reading your classic literature while the love of your life goes to sleep upstairs. I'm just saying, if you don't try, then what's the point?"

The next time you look Frank in the eyes, they're filled with kindness, and you can tell he sees you for who you really are. There's no hiding your true self around him, he reads you the same way he read Bill the day he fell in that hole in the ground.

"You know what, you're right. I'm gonna take the night to think about it, thanks, Frank. I don't know what I'd do if I was alone in this."

Frank places his hand over yours in a compassionate and friendly way. He understood where you'd been coming from, especially with the way you both were.

The rest of your night is spent cuddling up under a blanket Frank had placed over your legs before he headed up to bed for the night. The wine drunk put you in an exhausted state, eyelids as heavy as weights until you ended up falling asleep curled up in the chair, fire dwindling away to nothing but embers.

A nudge to your arm slightly pulls you from your slumber, wine bottle abandoned on the floor from earlier. The next thing you feel is a strong grip lifting your body from the chair. With a groan, your arms flail weightlessly to the side, as you're picked up bridal style, the creaking under the wood indicating you were being carried up the stairs.

It's probably Joel who's lifted you like this with no effort at all, no chance it was Frank or Bill. Tess was already asleep too, and once she rested her head, there was no waking her. She slept like a rock.

You figure you're finally up the stairs as the steps steady, pushing the door open silently to the dark bedroom. Finally, you're placed down onto the soft bed, boots being tugged from your feet and placed on the floor. Rolling over a bit, you groan at the comfortable state of the bed.

Already comforted by the blankets, the heat of your body diminishes in the cool, dark room, as you doze off to sleep for the night.

As morning peeks through the shades of the cool bedroom, a pounding headache rammed behind your skull as your eyes inch open. Fluttering profusely, your pupils adjust to the rays of sunlight slowly, head still spinning.

Groaning at the pain, your eyes shift from the window to the side table, where there'd been a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol placed next to a small piece of paper. You sit upright in the bed, truly unable to recall the events of the previous night. The only thing you remembered vaguely was that second bottle of wine, one you regretted even picking up.

You reached for the note, headache only pounding harder as you attempted to read it.

For your head, since you really thought that second bottle of wine was a good idea. We've got breakfast made when you feel well enough. - Frank

It's at that moment you realize your mouth is bone dry, concluding on the fact that you hadn't drank one drop of water last night. As if a desperate plea for the quenching of your thirst, you drop the note in your lap abruptly, gravitating towards the very full glass of water sitting just a foot away.

The liquid slides down your throat as you desperately gulp it down, only stopping for a moment to pop both Tylenol into your mouth. After finishing the glass of water, you look down at the note again.

Signed Frank, but I've seen this handwriting before. Somewhere.. My hungover brain cannot remember right now for the life of me.

A yawn breaks through your chest, your hand instinctively going up to cover your mouth. When the smell of your breath hit your nose, it became apparent to you that you should probably take advantage of the hot and running water in the home.

Quickly, you threw the covers to the side, glancing down at your legs, body covered in the same clothes as yesterday. You didn't even dare attempt to sniff those articles of clothing, knowing how sweat stained they had become on the hike yesterday.

Yeah, you really needed to shower.

Standing from the bed now, you reach over to grab your bag, when you realize you've left it downstairs. Only when you look around the room is when you see a plain grey t-shirt sitting on the arm of a chair.

Tess's shirt, no doubt.

You pick it up and hold it in your hands, the scent of her sure enough surrounding your head.

As tempting as it would be to head back to sleep, you walk over to the bedroom door, opening it to the hallway. It seemed there was nobody remaining upstairs, evident due to the light conversation coming from downstairs. Your socked feet patter across the hall, peeping around a corner before b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Placing the clothing on the countertop, you reach into the shower and start the running water. As it slowly heats the small room, you stride over to a closet, pulling it open to find an abundance of everything you could've ever needed to bathe in the world before. Shampoos, conditioners, body wash, shaving cream and razors.

Wow, these guys really know how to keep inventory. They won't mind if I make use of some of this stuff, I definitely need it more than they do right now.

Steam fills the bathroom as you pull each article of sweat-stained clothing from your body, landing all together in a pile. As you pull the curtain back and step in, the warm water washes over your work-weathered body, goosebumps rising at the comfortably warm liquid.

It was euphoric, the temperature of clean, filtered water paired with the privacy of the shower.

You can only stand still as the dirt and other liquids patter to the tub floor, bringing you lighter in mood and vibrance as well.

As you scrub your scalp with the shampoo, the events of last night finally return to you.

Reading Little Women, admitting how you felt about Tess to Frank- the decision you told him you'd take the night on and think about.

You caught your head in your hands as embarrassment for yourself washed over you, much like the warm water of the shower.

"Ughh, I can't believe I told Frank that stuff.." Although you didn't regret it, not completely. The chat you had actually made you feel better, getting it off your chest after so long of holding it in.

You just wished it would be that easy to tell the person of your affection.

The spray of water from the shower ceased as you turned it off, stepping out onto the bath mat and wrapping a towel around you.

Regrettably, you had no other clothes to change into, so you pull on everything you'd worn the day before, except for your shirt. You put on the grey one for now.

Yep, it definitely smelled like Tess.

Pulling your cargo pants on, you stride out of the steam-filled bathroom, and your feet lead you into Bill and Frank's room.

Though you feel it's trespassing on an already stepped-over line, you head towards their closet, quickly opening the door and taking in the massive amount of flannel shirts hanging there.

Frank had impeccable taste in clothes, deciding to yank one or two of the darkly colored button ups from their hangers. You took a pair of socks as well, since yours had holes in them from their constant use.

You thought about not telling Frank about your thievery, but it's going to become imminent when you walk down the stairs with his shirts in your arms. So you shove them in your bag once you find it resting next to the bed.

Heading back into the guest bedroom, you pull the fresh pair of socks onto your feet, beginning to reach for your black boots sitting on the floor. Reaching down for one, you hear a knock at the door before you can grab it.

Quickly, you stride over to the door, expecting to see Frank or Bill on the other side with a message from your partners about hurrying to leave or something along those lines.

To your surprise, the face on the other side of the door is Tess.

Shit, Tess. The person you promised Frank you'd confess to last night over a drunken conversation.

She looks well rested, wearing a different shirt than the one from yesterday. It's a dark green, that compliments her eye color and the wisps of her caramel hair framing her face. Her hair is in that half up-half down bun, the rest of it resting behind her shoulders.

She looks fucking perfect, and you look like a wet dog, hair still damp from your shower.

"Hey, morning. How'd you sleep? I uh-" Tess is pulling at her collar awkwardly, standing in the same fashion as your eyes finally trail down to what she'd holding in her hands.

She had a plate in her grip, covered in freshly made, very appetizing breakfast foods. Some so freshly made, there was still steam coming off of it.

You're thankful in this moment to have taken those Tylenol earlier, or else the smell of any food whatsoever would've sent you hurling over the toilet like a hungover sorority girl.

"Oh my god, Tess. What is all this?" Your eyes widened in surprise, the smell catching your attention even before you had seen the plate of food in her hands.

"Well, you need a big breakfast for the journey back to Boston today, and I figured you could use it after last night.." A chuckle breaks through her chest, head dipping downwards before looking at your freshened state.

"Come- come in." You move aside for Tess to enter the bedroom, assuming you'd slept alone in here for the night. As she places the tray down on the bed, you sit down, Tess standing a few feet away.

"Tess, did you make this? What the hell- This looks amazing.. Eggs, sausage, hash browns? These are all my favorites.. Seriously, thank you. Wh-what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, first of all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And second of all, don't thank me, thank Bill and Frank, it's their food I cooked. Consider it a hangover cure. Once I get so drunk that I fall asleep in an armchair with a classic book in my lap, then you can pay me back. It better be a damn good breakfast." She chuckles again, in that low voice that keeps you up at night when you think about it.

The way it says your name, her low tone when she curses under her breath, the way she sounds in the early mornings when the sun still hasn't risen and she's drowsy enough to not make any sense in her muttering.

Tess went through all the trouble of making everything she knew you favored, the mere thought of her thinking about you as she cooked it all only made your enamor for her grow stronger, a fire of love burning behind your chest for the woman in front of you.

It's then she takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you poke into the eggs and begin devouring the food on your plate. She wasn't leaving, by the looks of it.

In the middle of chewing your food, you speak again.

"Did Frank tell you I passed out down there?"

Her grin becomes larger now as her eyes move from the plate of food to your face as you consume your breakfast.

I wonder what else he told her. Hopefully nothing I haven't yet...

"No, I'm the one that found you, silly. Carried you up the stairs and put you to bed myself."

You continue chewing as your eyes widen, another realization from last night coming back to mind.

It wasn't Joel carrying you, it was Tess.

"You carried me up the stairs? Wow, I'm gonna have to start lifting weights if I have to do the same for you."

While you speak, you're enjoying every morsel of this delicious food Tess has made you, and you're grateful for her in so many more ways than you could express presently.

"You better," Tess says with a scoff. A couple more minutes pass by as you're finishing up the food on your plate. You notice that she's still sitting in the room with you, taking your silence as a sign of comfortability around her.

"So, what's up, Tess?" You say, shoving another fork full of hash browns into your mouth.

"Well, I came to check on you, since last night Frank told me you were drinking a whole 'nother bottle of wine by yourself.. and reading classic literature? For fun?" She laughs.. "I figured you might be hungover this morning and wanted to bring you something to fill your stomach. I can't have you fainting on me when we hike back to the QZ, now can I? Gotta keep your strength up, hun."

The name melts your heart a little and you smile. It was such a simple thing, one that indicated she cared about your wellbeing and didn't want to see you unwell.

"Yeah, always gotta be nourished and shit. Just human things, I guess. Though, a meal like this never gets old." You said with a smile.

It became more difficult to hold back the thoughts of holding and kissing the woman before you, her green button down shirt just aching to be pulled in order to kiss her. Those perfect hazel eyes of hers that resembled gems when they hit the sun just right, getting effortlessly lost in them every time they locked with yours. Her hands that completed her daily tasks so beautifully, with such care and concern in everything she did making you think she'd hold you the same way, love you the same beautiful way she did everything in her life with.

"I'm guessing you're feeling alright, then? Tylenol helped?" It was cute that Tess was still worrying about how you were feeling from the night before. Putting the fork down finally, you looked up at her.

"Yeah I- Wait, how'd you know I took Tylenol?" You hadn't mentioned anything to her about taking medicine.. so how did she know?

"Well I uh- I just.." She scoffed lightly before continuing, "I asked Frank to leave some by your bedside earlier and I was really worried about you, since yesterday. You don't drink like that unless something's bothering you."

Her eyes focused on you, hair lightly spilling over her shoulder, and she's in the moment with you now more than she had ever been. It's almost like she's reading you when you glance up again, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

"I know, Tess. It's just-" you sigh, thumbs fiddling with each other, palms beginning to prick ever so lightly with sweat.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Her voice was sweet and soft, lowering a bit to hopefully ease your worries. One of her hands grabs yours, and the sensation is enough to make the breath in your lungs hitch.

If there was any perfect moment to confess, this was it.

"Tess, there's something I need to tell you." A slight quiver of your voice tells her that this thing that had been bothering you clearly meant a lot. You keeping things from her wasn't a common occurrence, which only happens when something was beyond frustrating for you to talk about.

"Okay, what is it?"

You're infuriatingly beautiful and I want to kiss you right now.

"It's the fact that I'm over here pining like an idiot for you and you can't even see it.." You mutter, not wanting to look Tess's way for fear of judgment or rejection. She notices, and in that very moment she longs to see the fire in your eyes burn its brightest. "It's the fact that- that I love you, and you probably love someone else.."

"Someone else?" Tess scoffed, "And who do you think that is, huh?"

"I don't know.. Joel, maybe.." Head still hung, your hands shake slightly, chest filled to the brim with uneasiness and anxiety.

Was it just you, or did the temperature in here get hotter?

"Y/n, look at me." You hesitate for a moment, then slowly your eyes move from their locked position on your hands.

Tess's hands are fidgeting in her lap too, you notice.

The second you lift your head, the glossy state of your eyes catches her attention, and her face eases once you're looking directly at her. Tess's bottom lip catches between her teeth for a moment, and she glances down swiftly, then back up at you.

"Joel and I are nothing but friends, you understand? I don't want him, never have." The words hit your ears and it's as if a weight lights off your shoulders.

It's the most clarifying moment that makes you giddy to spill everything onto her lap.

"Tess.." you breathe, closing your eyes for a moment and making a decision, "Please don't shoot me for this..."

You begin to lean in towards her, eyelids hooded as you glance down to her lips, watching intently as she does the same. It feels like an eternity before you're close enough to pick up on her natural scent, consuming your brain and going fuzzy upon the close proximity.

A warm tingling fills your hands as they brush over Tess's thighs and hover just over the dark denim covering them.

Once, twice, three times you glanced down at her lips, pausing to drag your eyes across her flawless face.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" Her snarky tone pulls your eyes back to gaze into her hazel ones, almost getting lost in them before getting the courage to do something you couldn't come back from.

"Shut up," You say, before your hands grab onto her collar, and pull her lips to yours. Her kiss takes your breath away, crawling into her lap, collar of Tess's shirt still in your grip. Sparks flicker in your chest, and they're coming off of Tess's as well, deepening the kiss with another push of your lips against hers.

The weight of you in her lap pulls a groan from the woman opposite you, separating your lips from hers. You almost couldn't pull away, but the thought of hurting her made your worry jump a mile high.

"Shit.. Are-are you okay?" Tess gives you another peck on your lips, before trailing her eyes down your face and neck. The smirk on her face makes the heat from your cheeks travel down your torso.

"Oh, I'm better than ever... you wanna know why?"

Nodding your head fervently, her hands trail up your shirt to your collar, watching as her pupils dilate around the hazel in her eyes. The grasp on your shirt is tight, even tighter when she beckons you impossibly closer to her. The next moment, she's pulling your lips to hers in another passionate kiss. Your lips are pressed together for so long, it feels like you're out of breath by the time she pulls away.

"It's because I love you." The three words fall from her lips like a siren beckoning you with its song. Her voice has never sounded more perfect, and when she says those words to you, it's an indescribable amount of joy that fills your chest.

Her panting is an indication of not being able to breathe, but she doesn't fucking care if she got to kiss you like that.

"You love me, too?" Out of curiosity, you ask again, just to make sure it registers in your brain. Disbelief makes your heart jump, even though you've just kissed her, and you never wanted to stop.

Even though she told you she felt the same way, it was still a dream.

"Of fucking course I do. Ever since I took care of you, those few months you were living in my apartment. How could I not?" One of her hands trails up your face, brushing some stray hairs obstructing her view, so she could look at you fully.

The woman you've pined after for years has loved you all the same, and the realization feels a lot like you've wasted so much time behind a closed door. Sleepless nights went by with you writing about her in your journal, detailing all the ways you would love her if she only loved you back.

Tess adored you, she just hadn't let herself show it or feel any other way than a friend, and she'd been terrified to lose you if she fucked any of that up. The years and years of pining built to this very moment, tension in the room thick as you gazed at her lovingly.

"Tess.. kiss me again..."

It was a desperate plea for that fucking woman to press your lips to hers so you could taste her even stronger than you thought you could handle.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop if I do." Her low voice made your legs tremble, a new kind of desire growing due to her.

"Then don't." Your lips clashed together with hers, tongues exploring each other's mouths in a feverish attempt to taste even more of you than she already had.

The truth was, she had all of you for a long time, and now she couldn't imagine needing anything more.

A soft moan is pulled from your chest as Tess's teeth nip at your bottom lip. The both of you seem breathless as you pull away again, but every time you glance down at her swollen lips is when you want to just press them to yours over and over again.

"God, you're so beautiful, it's hard to look directly at you sometimes." Her words catch you off guard, feeling your eager hands travel up her neck, one resting on her shoulder while the other sneaks your fingers between her soft strands of hair. Twirling a lock of it, the blush on your face makes her smirk.

"Stop it, I mean just look at yourself. You're so hot and intimidating and perfect and-"

"You saying you're not those things?" Her brows furrow in distaste, because how dare you suggest otherwise.

"I'm saying you are. Pretty girl." A giggle erupts from your chest, raking your fingers through her hair with appreciation.

"If you don't say you're all of those things right this second, love, I'm just gonna have to prove it to you. And you know I will."

Your eyebrows raise, wanting to pull a little sneaky trick on her.

"Say that I'm what?" The smirk on your face makes Tess blush a little, chuckling to herself because she knows exactly what you're doing.

"Say that you're..." One of her hands goes to the top button of your shirt and unbuttons it as she places a quick peck on your cheek, "Perfect, intimidating, hot, everything I want.. God, fuck. Look at what you do to me.."

Her nimble fingers trail down your shirt, undoing each button carefully, letting the shirt fall open to your sides. Hands rest on the skin of your sides, just under the shirt you're wearing. Her shirt you're wearing.

"Tess.." You sigh breathlessly, still trying to gain back whatever air was pulled out of your lungs just a moment earlier.

"Hmm? Tell me what you want, baby." She tilts her head ever so slightly, the smirk on her face only enlarging when she sees the desire in your lust-blown eyes. Her pet name all but pulls a squeal from your chest, scrunching your nose upon hearing her low words.

"I want you, Tess. God, I want all of you.. But we can't-" Your hands run up and down her sides, shaking ever so slightly at her intimidating smirk.

"We can do anything we want, sweetheart. I've got you, now. No one's gonna take you away from me, ever. And no one's taking me from you. Got it?"

It's so warm, so Tess, such a loving and nurturing side of her that spills those words into your chest like a goddamn golden light, and it brings tears to your eyes. Sniffling, you try to blink them away every second they threaten to fall from your eyes.

The close proximity of her immediately pulls you into a safe hug, tears dropping on the cloth of her shirt, dampening the fabric bit by bit. Her hand rubs up and down your back, comfort surrounding you in the moment like nothing else in the world.

"So-sorry, Tess, I didn't mean to get your shirt all wet," You say, pulling back from her embrace, "I'm just.. so fucking happy because I love you and- and you're finally mine."

The words come out like the easiest thing in the world, like you could tell her your deepest darkest secrets and she'd still love you completely as you are.

"Aw, you look so pretty when you're in love. 'Bout the most perfect thing in the whole world to me, pretty girl."

"Well, yeah. It's all your fault that I'm crying like a sap, dummy." You playfully punch her shoulder and wipe your face, tears finally ceasing their descent from your eyes.

"You love me that much, huh?" This time, Tess's smile is sweet, intimate and all but this time your eyes lock with hers in a deep gaze.

"Love you even more than that, Tess." A giggle erupts from your chest as her lips press ever so lightly to your neck, ghosting feather light kisses across your skin. Before she pulls back, she attaches her lips to your skin and sucks obsessively, in the same spot. A particularly sensitive spot she gets to pulls a whimper from your chest, the sound making her pull away from kissing you, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"What was that, baby?" You whimper again, embarrassment washing over you while your cheeks are being painted with a blush.

"Need you, Tess. Need you so bad.." The last word comes out rather quickly, hips rolling against hers ever so slightly.

"I'm right here, honey. Tell me what you need from me, and I'll give it to you." Her words come out like a plead, work-worn hands and fingers trailing over the waistband of your pants. "Come on, we don't have much time. Joel wants to get on the road soon.."

Oh God. Joel. Bill. Frank.

Your thoughts freeze and think to the three other men in the house, or probably somewhere nearby, if not lingering just a few feet away down the stairs.

"Shit, should we-"

"Yes, my love, we should. After all this time, we should."

"But the door-"

The bedroom door; it was swung almost completely open.

"Guess you better be quiet then." She mutters, voice low with lust and the need for you to fall apart for her just once before their travels.

"Tess-" You whimper breathlessly, and before you can speak another word, her lips attach to yours again. Her hair smells like lavender, and her lips taste like strawberries.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, wanting to know you're okay with her going further.

"You know I do. I trust you with my life." You reply, almost immediately. Her soft eyes gaze into yours and she nods.

It's the most perfect vision of Tess you've had your entire life, and nothing in this world could tear you away from that.

Once you feel her hands unbuckling your pants successfully, one of her hands slips down under the fabric, bypassing your underwear right down to where she knows you need her.

Her middle and ring finger slide through the arousal between your legs, and the second she feels you throbbing against her, is when her kisses trail from your mouth to your neck.

"Tess, fuck-" You whimper out, as her fingertips swirl around the most sensitive part of you.

"Needy girl, aren't you? So gorgeous..." The smirk on her face turns devious when her eyes meet yours again, catching how your face contorts with pleasure under her doing.

Another mewl leaves your chest, nodding fervently once again.

"Shit, all wet for me? You really know how to make a woman happy.." The slight laughter from her chest makes you clench around nothing. Nothing, until her fingers pursue lower than your sensitive bundle of nerves. Deep breaths of air make your chest heave, and Tess is only relishing in the way you're falling apart completely for her.

Before you feel her fingers prodding at your entrance, your hand grabs her forearm and she halts her movements.

"What about you?" Your eyes seem to beg for her without saying another word more, and she hesitates for a moment, until she speaks.

"You don't have to, love. You feeling good makes me feel good and-"

She pauses her words, because your doe eyes make whatever was left of her resolve break, the instant she looks into them.

"Alright, baby. Go ahead, touch me.. I need you, too." A smile breaks out onto your face, hands gravitating towards her belt, undoing it as fast as she can complete her sentence to satisfy you.

One of your hands slips down between her legs, watching as her eyes close in bliss at the first light drag of your fingers down her heat.

"Fuck.." Her head gets thrown back while her eyes shut at the amount of pleasure and love you have for her in that very moment. Tess curses under her breath as you begin slow circles on her most sensitive part of her body, goosebumps trailing all over her skin.

"Now who's the needy one?" She glances back up to your eyes, and just like that, her intimidating demeanor returns.

You almost yelp aloud when she pushes a finger inside of you, but her lips press against yours before you could do so. The fervent exchange of moans between each swirl of your fingers, and each thrust of Tess's fingers inside of you makes the moment feel infinite.

Everything you've ever wanted, you finally had.

She was yours to touch, to hold, to please. Tess gave you all of her, completely and irrevocably.

"Tess.. fuck, I love you.. I- never wanna be with anyone else but you.." Your tone of voice is pitched higher, submerged in the pleasure she brought. She could tell you were inching closer to release with every swirl of her fingers.

"I love you, baby. With everything inside of me. It's you. Only you.. Now be a good girl and come with me."

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, I am. Fuck- keep going, just like that. Cmon, baby." The hand that wasn't inside your pants snuck up to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling in silent demand.

Sighing dreamily, Tess pulled her fingers out of you and rubbed incessantly at your precious bundle of nerves, triggering your hips to rock against hers.

"Tess.." You moan out loud, almost too loud for the people downstairs to hear, but at the same time, you don't care. Not when Tess is giving you the most pleasure you think you've ever experienced in your life.

"I love it when you moan my name.. Say it again." Her fingers swirl to no end, feeling a jolt of pleasure wash through you as your high began to rush towards you.

"Tess, fuck. Oh my god Tess- baby I'm gonna come.." Your sounds are uncontrollable now as your release is beckoning you further.

"Yeah, hun? Gonna come for me?" Your hand speeds up your movements on her sensitive bud of nerves, another low moan leaving her chest, dripping with desire.

"Oh, baby, I'm-I'm.."

"Me too baby, yeah..." Tess calls out, her movements on your clit pushing you over the edge, her high washing over her intensely.

A few more filthy moans leave your chest, release crashing over you like a wave, running throughout your body with relief, your partner helping you ride it out before you finally look back up at her.

Sweat adorns her skin, chest heaving as she pulls her fingers from your pants. You do the same, only watching as she licks her fingers seductively. Another wave of pleasure threatens to overtake you, just by watching her do that.

"Holy shit... that was amazing. I knew your hands were good for more than just holding a gun and punching people." Your head tilts back the slightest bit as you try to catch your breath after the immense pleasure washed over you only moments ago.

"For our first time, that's nothing compared to what I've been thinking about doing to you for months now.." The smirk on her face threatens the rise of arousal again, though you're too exhausted now to even think about doing that, with what a long journey you've got ahead of you.

"You-" Tess raises an eyebrow at your speechlessness, "are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and you chose to love me. Isn't that something."

Your words make her blush again, leaving a few small pecks on your cheeks, before pressing one to your lips again. Then, Tess's hands reach to your pants once more, doing the zipper up and buttoning them so she could do the same to hers.

"Well, I don't think we choose who we love. But if it was.. it's because you're the most perfect person in the world. Isn't that something.."

You look to Tess with a soft smile, one that makes both of you appreciate the domesticity of your conversation at hand.

"Yeah, it is," You say, taking her hands in yours and interlocking your fingers together, "So, what does all this make us?"

You catch Tess staring into your eyes again, and it takes a second for her to respond.

"Well, I'm already in love with you, so whatever you want, I want it too. I'm all in, for you. That sound good?"

God, you've waited forever to hear those words.

Attaching your lips with hers, it's a slow, soft kiss, almost stopping time with how you craved more every second that went by. As you pull away, Tess looks radiant in the sunlight that's pouring through the window even more now.

Her words turn you speechless, already knowing you called her 'mine' but hearing it from the velvet voice of your lover made your heart swell ten times bigger.

"It sounds wonderful, Tess." You lean in for another kiss, soft and sweet, until you pull back again, "You'll have to teach me how to open wine bottles, though."

"Nah, I think I'd rather just keep doing it for you." Your lips locked in another kiss, one you wished would last forever.

"Oh, one more thing," Tess goes digging in her back pocket, pulling out a blue tube, "Deodorant. You stink like sex."

"And whose fault is that?" You quip, grabbing the tube from her and rubbing it under your armpits.

Tess shrugged, almost pulling you in for another kiss, until the sound of a male voice from downstairs snapped both of you out of the daydream.

"Shit, Joel. He's gonna be mad that I took so long up here.. that-that we took so long-" You begin to speak, pulling yourself from the bed, reaching down to slip your boots on.

"Joel Miller is not gonna say anything when he sees that hickey." Tess mumbles, standing from the bed as well, adjusting her shirt from where you'd grasped it before.

"What mark? Oh, Tess.. you didn't.." You rush over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and pull your collar to the side abruptly to see the darkening purple bruise on your neck. You scoff, only buttoning up your shirt with haste to get out the door.

"I did. Couldn't help myself, you know. You're all mine now, had to make sure everyone in Boston knows you're spoken for."

She walks up behind you, placing her hands on your hips as you continue buttoning the flannel up. You scoff, flipping your head around to kiss her on the lips again.

"Yeah, well did you have to make it so dark?" You questioned, knowing she could've gone lighter but didn't.

"You already know the answer to that. Now c'mon, let's not keep the man waiting." Tess pulls you by your hand to the door, looking back once more as you exit the room and walk down the stairs with her hand in yours.

Just as you thought he'd be, Joel was pacing downstairs with his pack already on his back.

"There y'all are.. was starting to get worried about- Oh." The tall, Texan man clears his throat when his eyes spot the mark on your neck, eyes immediately avoiding yours.

"Yeah.. I'll grab our packs and meet you outside. Cool?" Tess says, before sharing a look with Joel, not saying anything more as he turns to walk out to the front yard. Her hand slips from yours every so slightly, and you already miss the warmth and love in her contact the second it drops from you.

"Hey, wait- where's Frank?" You call out to Joel, but he's already to the gate of their yard before he can hear you.

"In here!" Frank's voice comes from the living room, and you saunter over to him.

"Hey, morning. Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. What you said to me last night, and just your hospitality and all you're gonna help us with when we start working together. I mean it- I'm really grateful."

Frank looks up from the vinyl he's sifting through, and meets your eyes with a compassionate smile.

"I take it this morning went... well?" He gestures to the mark on your neck, one of your hands going up to sheepishly cover it, a bit embarrassed that you let her go that far.

"Oh, um. Yeah, very well. I did that thing we talked about." As soon as the words hit his ears, he's grinning from ear to ear and throws his arms around you with a tight embrace, one that caught you off guard, but you hugged back, nonetheless. The smile is still beaming on his face as he pulls away.

"I knew it would go well. You two.." He shakes his head, hands on his hips, "Sparks were basically flying over lunch yesterday, every time one of you looked at each other.. Wait- Is that my shirt? Nevermind, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Frank laughs at the realization that you didn't have fresh clothes after showering, so he understood.

"Seriously, thank you. For everything, again."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm such a matchmaker. Now go, run to your lover, and never let her go, okay? She's one special woman."

"Yeah, that she is.." Your gaze shifts from Frank to Tess appearing in the doorway with your pack in her hand.

"Oh, one more thing." Frank hands you the books you'd taken down from their shelves last night, Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. "Don't worry, Bill said it's alright. He doesn't read classics, anyways. You'll come back, and we'll trade."

That's the last thing Frank says before Tess beckons you back to her.

"You ready to go? Joel's gonna lose his marbles if we make him wait any longer, so.." Tess asks you, standing a few feet away, but it felt like miles before you could get back to her.

"Oh, God forbid a man wait on two fine ladies, such as yourselves." Frank says, turning Tess's way as you walk towards her, grabbing your pack from her hand and putting the two books into it, before slinging it onto your back.

"You make a good point, but he's gonna be grouchy the whole hike. He'll be done with our lovesick asses once we get back to the QZ." You say with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Tess's lips.

"Well, it's been lovely having you here, I'm not sure where Bill's run off to, but I'm sure he says goodbye as well. I'll walk you to the gate, since there's an idea I have as to how we can communicate back and forth on the radio.. I'll tell you on the way."

Frank follows you both out the door, spotting Bill already at the gate, the same holster with his pistol sticking out from his otherwise plain outfit.

As Joel finally spots the three of you coming from the house, he darts right out of their front yard, b-lining for the gate.

"Guess he's got a new friend..." You mutter to Tess, Joel's steps bringing him towards the gate faster than you three were walking.

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna look at the huge hickey on your neck." She retorts, her reasoning better than anything else you came up with.

Chuckling, you nudge her side, hands falling beside each other's before locking your fingers together again.

Frank catches up, walking alongside Tess as he begins to explain his idea for communication back and forth.

"So, I had this idea that we should use codes for the radio, in case anyone's listening."

"That's a good idea. Like, with what?" Tess tilts her head over to the man in curiosity.

"I was thinking, like, the decades. Like- 80's, trouble, of course." Frank states, as if he's put immense thought into something as simple as this.

"Yeah..?"

"70's- for when we get new stuff to trade with.. and 60's for not having anything new. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Frank. That's actually really clever. I mean, I wouldn't have thought of that. Right, babe?" It's the first use of any pet name around people, and you can tell it puts Tess in a lighter mood just by hearing you say it.

"Right. Well, radio back to me when you guys are ready to start our business together." He reaches out to shake Tess's hand, "Otherwise, it has been lovely having you three here, and I'm so ecstatic to have you back whenever." Frank stood still, watching you all walk ahead.

The sound of Joel's boots on the pavement approaching you all force you to turn your heads towards the third partner in your group.

"What are y'all lookin' at? Let's head out, already. Whenever you lovebirds are done.."

Grumpy exterior, but an ally, all the same.

"What are we gonna do with him..."

"Yeah, he's not nearly as much fun as you." Nudging her shoulder again, your bottom lip catches between your teeth for a slight moment. Tess's hair is blowing in the wind slightly, and you can't help but smile at the beauty of the woman you called the love of your life.

You share a look between Tess's eyes and your own, before tugging her along as you walk ahead, attached by a soul tie at your hands, linked together for a lifetime.

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