#i think it's good they have that kid working with him on the farm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whore-ibly-hot · 1 year

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Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

#reader insert #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere #yandere content #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere farmer #tw.religion #tw.breeding #tw.noncon #oc Joey #yandere farmboy

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lady-ashfade · 1 month

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All Is Far In Love And Farming

Chapter 1: Getting Started

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yandere!Mha!Hybrids × Farmer! Fem!Reader. Chapter 1.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ storyline: The calling of being a professional farmer had been your dream since you were young. Growing up on your granddad’s farm was the best thing, many years later you happen to be back. And the property is now yours to restore. With some hard work, you want to restore hybrid caretaking back to what it once was.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Chapters: Previous // Next

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.5k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short chapters, stardew valley au, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, hybrid abuse, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere, hybrid and human relationships, and future warnings when more chapters come out, spelling mistakes and grammar who?

╰･ﾟ✧☽ characters for now: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka, Tenya lida, Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Tsuyu Asui, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Hanta Sero, Mashirao Ojiro, Koji Koda, Momo Yaoyorozu

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-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Everything you once saw, the brightest of grass and the crops ripe and perfect, and the animals in the barns chirping of happiness— it was all gone. once a happy place you roamed in the summer as a kid was now a abandoned filthy place, old bards with holes and damaged walls. Nothing was what it used to be, the grass was as tall as small trees and it was going to take a lot of lovin.

But if your granddad taught you one thing is that; working for a better future would make everything you did it worth it.

And that’s exactly why you are here, to make your future. Everything in your life was about becoming a farmer, like your grandfather. and like him, you believed hybrids deserved to be in a safe and open land to roam, not such in some metal factory and enclosed to live their life.

“Come join the number one hybrid farm in Japan, The League.” the tv rung in your ears back at the college room, the place had been taking over everything and running all the local and good places out. at one point the only place you probably could work at was The League, since they seemed to be everywhere. “New locations, New Areas, And New Pay. Call the number on your screen for more information.” you had heard the commercial so many times you rolled your eyes everytime.

Never did you believe they would come out here, and be the competition.

Honestly, the first day your body was drained easily from all the work. The labor wasn’t exactly what you were expecting to start off with, moving the rooks and weeding. But you had supplies to start off with thankfully, the money he left you was so much, and ready for a new purpose. But the only thing that was helping you in all of this, your holy grail was a local store owner. Arthur, who happened to be your grandfathers best friend.

slapping the metal truck with the gloved hand, the old man smiled and stepped down from the back of the moving truck. you whipped off the sweat from your skin and catch your breath as the unpacked heavy boxes placed besides you and man.

“The old man used to buy twice as much as this and unload it all him, then complain when his back hurt afterwards. Lucky, he had me to talk some since into him.” the white haired man spoke breathlessly. you didn’t want him to have to help, seeing his age but he was in better shape then you by the looks of things. “Old bat was stubborn, you got that in you kid?”

taking a deep breath you arose from the bend down position you were in and look at the man, smiling a bit you commented back. “Used to give granddad a run for his money, I think I have it in me.” you were earned with a deep chuckle and a small one from yourself. starting back up again you closed the doors and gave the man who drove the truck the okay and he drove away.

the next day was worse then the first, your body was sore and tired, you wore sunscreen all over your body to protect you from the heat damage and the illnesses you could catch. unpacking all the equipment, getting them put together, and make sure the starter crops are taken care of. you took many breaks. and Arthur was the greatest help you could ask for.

you heard the story of how he met your granddad many times before, but you didn’t mind hearing it from his side. Arthur had moved from the United States to start his business with his family, and your grandfather was just started out in town. they were younger and bonded right away, and there for marriages, children and grandchildren. knowing he wasn’t as alone when you left was comforting in a away but you knew the full story. just before your tenth birthday you were moved away from the small town with your parents and left the farm behind.

“He talked about you every day.” The words perked up your ears. You looked at Arthur as he continued to work on a huge fan.

“Everything that happened in your life, he would tell me. What happened at middle school sport events, to dances and even show pictures of the dresses you wore. And man, when you went to college for Hybrid Education he was bursting with energy again.” It’s been a long time since he was able to leave the cabin. You knew that, but knowing still punched you in the guts.

“Was he proud?” asking was a waste of time.

“Proud as hell, there should be no doubt about it. His pride and joy was you, more then anything he did here, and now you have a legacy to continue.” smiling you continue to work to hold yourself from the weight building up in your chest. you missed him so much.

Each day there was something new to fix and call in, you knew granddad was rich from the bank account he left you. but boy, it sure was a lot of money. and now, you finally had a starting point. you had scheduled a barn repair on the electrical and building. the crops were set up along with the sprinklers and scare crows, even cleaned out the well…but not without getting algae all over you.

Smalltowns in the country side where the best, everyone in the community was helpful towards one other. And since The League had a location down the road, the people really came together. Businesses were losing in hybrid projects and animals, but the crops were the same. But this met more hybrids lost there homes, and had to be relocated elsewhere else or to The League…You hated it.

A big wooden sign at one of the joint shop centers made you smile and turn into the lot. today was the weekly event, selling of many things of local produces. you remember coming here as a kid and always getting blueberry jam from the market lady. and just like then, it was crowded. and with a lot of stalls and moving trucks. Arthur had told you they still had them and that you should check it out. of course you wouldn’t miss this for anything.

you shut the truck door and fixed your clothes before started the walk around. everyone was selling amazing things at their booths. the first table you saw was one cover in homemade soap bars and honey products. a sweet older couple ran that shop. some stalls were for hybrids for sale but you didn’t have room for them, at least until the barns are rebuilt. but milk, crops and seeds where your thing anyway to look at.

“how much for this?” the only person behind the table was a young girl who looked angry and ready to chew off your head, it was laughable. she was going to be hard to haggle, but a amazing work ethic. “I don’t know you, so twenty bucks.” your eyes widen and look down at the honey in your hand. it was a very small jar…and not worth it, I mean for the bigger bottles sure.

“Hmm, how about ten?” the small girl glared at your words and huffed. she shook her head in annoyance and pointed to the tag, “you trying to get out of paying hard working people lady? This is the best honey you’ll find in the whole country! Haggling is only for people I know,” her finger pointed at you and you back up a little at her shouting voice. “And you ain’t it!”

signing you pull out a twenty and handed it to her, she smiles so kindly you forget about the anger she had. placing it in your cloth bag you continue walking down the path, smiling and looking around. not much you could buy yet, though you did buy from groceries and loaded the up in the bed of the truck.

“well if it ain’t the talk of the town,” a sweet woman’s voice called out loudly. you turn your gaze and see a almost forgotten face, but one that filled you with joy and nostalgia. “Aunty Hoshiko.” You scream and rush over, the older woman comes out form her booth and takes you into her arms. only now did you realize the sweet small of jam and the jar’s decorated like they used to be, but this area was bigger and a extra tent was behind it.

“I couldn’t believe you moved back here after moving to the city, heard you got into a good college.” She smiled from cheek to cheek while pulling away. “Why come back here?” it was flattering how much she thought of you, but you couldn’t have stayed away from this place for much longer.

“Well, grandpa left me the farm and I needed to start my new life. Can’t get much better then a already laid for land, and with great soil.” she hummed but her eyes dropped a little and her smile became different. “I’m so sorry, he was a good man. you tell me if you need any help okay? Your granddad helped us a lot, so many people in town will be willing to do help too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile and take a peek at the table, “mind if I look?” she is excited to show you all the new flavors and jars she has, letting you smell each one. she even offers you a discount for family.

you had a few jams picked out but you keep looking at everything, knowing you’ll come home with more. then there was a sign and paperwork around on a tables end.“Hybrid Rescues” is what you read and your hands reached for it immediately. seeing your interested, Hoshiko started to talk.

“The League has been running out businesses, hybrids are either purchased or…end up alone and abandoned. My friend runs a rescue company, we help her out here trying to give some of them a home.” you clinch the paper in your hand and want both more then to go punch the owners of the company. No hybrid deserves to be left alone.

“I usually have a few here with me, but today only one is for sale. He’s very special. And a house animal, or helper if you will since I know you don’t have much room for more yet.” the next step was to always get hybrids, but you weren’t sure if today was the best idea today…

“Oh!” that wasn’t your choice since she pulled your arm and lend you into the tent where only one hybrids sat. you struggled to look away from the hybrid laying in the floor.

He was huge. he looked peaceful tho, curled up on a bed and resting peacefully. he had long and pointed ears, a middle tail that curled. “he’s a special breed, no idea why they didn’t keep him since he must have cost a fortune.” there was a small scar on his arm and you hated to see, it looked like cattle whip strokes.

“tenya,” she called out quietly to wake the dog. you really didn’t know if you should get a hybrid, but seeing him already you knew you couldn’t say no. his furry ears twitched and his body rolled over ready to see what was happening. he was fast, and he was built. a pure breed for herding and hard labor. “I have someone here who needs a dog to help around the farm.” she patted you on the back and you got shy for some reason.

His tail was sticking up, his eyes glancing over and panicked. he was on high alert. “Hey buddy, my names y/n.” You smile softly. You don’t want to move until he gives you a sign. his nose sniffs into the air for a moment and his body freezes, you both stop for a minute too.

until the thumping of his tail was heard and he jumped up to greet you properly. you are taken aback and he gets excited and starts to shout, you can’t help but to smile. “My names Tenya, I am apart of the Iida breed. I have experience in herding, working and defending territory. I have many skills,” his hands reaches for hers and stuffs it into his nose to get a proper smell.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle. having some help now would be good, and a herding dog would the best thing.

“Tell me iida, are you okay with maybe coming home with me?” if it was only a dog he would for sure be jumping on you from how happy he seems to be.

Iida didn’t want you to leave to get things needed, saying it was his job to be with you now but you need to find food and things before leaving. he whined forever until he saw you again.

you came back to get him…like you said you would. he loved you, loved you so much. the kindest human he’s met.

Riding back to the farm was a journey. he was talking every second about all the things he could do, from each animal, hybrid or not. boy, was so happy to be by your side. and he was asking about you too. why you picked him? what you wanted him to do.

your heart broke once you got back to the cabin.

you held the door open and called for him to come in, but he just stood on the porch looking at you almost guilty. “Hybrids aren’t aloud inside, I must protect you from out here.” he was already looking for a place to set up for the night. it was a miracle you didn’t start crying again.

“Well, whoever told you that was a idiot. Many dog hybrids are aloud inside, and it’s my house so my roles go.” you tap the door again. he was hesitant, and it took about ten minutes to get him inside. and you told him to stay put while you get the things from the car…then told him it was a order to get him to stay.

you placed the things on the floor and smiled, proud of yourself. “Okay, so I got a large mattress for you. We can place it anywhere you want, also got you special food, hybrids approved.” he looked at the mattress for a long minute. Iida couldn’t believe it was his, he hadn’t slept on one of them since he was little, and then at the market earlier. And this one was his, made for his height and weight for him to sleep…inside.

“Your bought this for me?” He asked while poking at the bed, it’s softness amazed him. once he accepted his reality his tail starts to swing like crazy and crawled over to you, and hugged you lovingly.

“I’ll be the best boy I promise. anything you need I will do, anything.” his grip tightened around your waist and pushed his head into your plush stomach. you patted his head and thanked him, and told him he deserved to be loved and cared for.

That night, he placed his bed in front of your bedroom door and stood watch in his bed. to protect you, his master…his.

next chapter.

series master list.

Taglist: @serxinns @queenpiranhadon @hah-simp-acc-2 @imlonelyty @yourmommasworld @moonlight-dreamer04 @cherrysxuya @melody-deathnote @ladybug2235 @odevote118 @hrezx @androgynouszombiegentlemen @letmelickureyeballs @lovelystarstruckvoid @simpingmasterpiece

@ please don’t repost my stuff to any other platform. This is my writing so don’t claim it as your own.

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togrowoldinv · 3 months

Text

Meteors

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you start working on the Barton’s farm, you meet Natasha

Note: It’s been wayyy too long since I’ve been able to make time to write. Hope y’all enjoy this Nat fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha watches from the front porch as a truck she’s unfamiliar with pulls up in the driveway. Just when she’s about to go ask Laura if she had any idea who was arriving, the woman steps out onto the porch.

“Right on time,” Laura comments mostly to herself.

“Who’s this?” Natasha asks, her attention is piqued.

“The new farmhand,” Laura explains. “She’s been working here every week for about a month now. Clint didn’t tell you?”

Nat shakes her head.

“Well, she’s pretty great at it,” the older woman continues. “Come meet her.”

Natasha follows Laura down the steps and to the truck. You are unloading a bale of hay from the bed of the truck when they walk up.

“Hello!” Laura greets you. She’s always so kind. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” you reply before turning around to actually see her. “How are you?”

You drop the bale onto the group and turn to see more than one person standing there.

“Oh hi,” you say to the new person. She politely lifts the corners of her lips, but doesn’t quite smile at you.

“This is Nat,” Laura says. “Nat, this is y/n.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out for her shake. She takes it in hers and the eye contact you make lingers.

“Oh, I forgot I have cookies in the oven,” Laura says. “I’ll be back. Nat why don’t you get to know y/n a bit.”

With that, Laura leaves you there with this beautiful stranger. God, she really is beautiful. You both stand there a little awkwardly before you make a move to talk to her more.

“So, how do you know the Bartons?” You ask.

“I work with Clint,” Nat says. You try not to let yourself go weak in the knees at hearing her voice for the first time. “You’re probably familiar with what we do.”

“Partially,” you say with a soft laugh. “I better get started for the day. I’ll see you around?”

Nat nods and walks back towards the house. You work the rest of the day with Natasha on your mind. She had uttered barely ten words to you, and yet you can’t get her out of your head.

A few days go by before you see her again. It’s early in the morning when you arrive. Natasha is sitting in a rocking chair with baby Nate in her arms. You walk to the porch to say hello.

“Good morning,” you greet her.

“Good morning, y/n,” she says. You try memorize the way your name sounds coming from her lips.

“He’s up early,” you comment.

“Yeah, a little too early. I offered to hang out with him while Clint and Laura sleep in,” Nat replies.

You smile at that.

“You’re here earlier today,” Nat says. You try not to overanalyze why she knows your schedule so well. It’s probably just the spy in her, you think.

“I am indeed. The cows need some extra work today, so I got here early,” you explain. “Come on out to pasture if you get bored. I’ll be there all day.”

“I just might do that,” Natasha replies.

You get a boost of confidence from her words. After you bid her a farewell for now, you drive out to the cattle field.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Barton family wakes up. The kids eat breakfast and start chores. Clint asks Nat to help him with some outside work.

A few hours go by and Laura calls everyone in for lunch. Natasha looks around the kitchen for you, but she doesn’t see you.

“Is y/n eating with us?” She asks.

“She likes to stay out there and work, so I usually take her some food after we eat,” Laura explains. She tries to read Nat’s expression. “You could take it to her today if you want.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah I can do that,” Nat says.

Laura smiles knowingly. The family eats and then Natasha makes her way to you.

At the sight of you wrangling cows, she can’t help but smile. You’ve shed the light jacket you were wearing this morning and she can see how strong you are.

“Oh hey, Natasha!” You say once you see her.

“Hey,” she replies, her head cocked to the side a little to examine your current position. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

“Probably not,” you reply. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Lunch,” Nat says. “Laura’s famous grilled cheese.”

You walk away from the cows and towards Natasha. She stands by the truck, so you open the tailgate and sit on it. You pat the area next to you as a way to ask her to sit.

She hands you the lunch bag and lightly blushes when your hand touches hers.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say. “Wait, do you prefer Nat or Natasha?”

“Either one,” she says, shrugging. “Technically my name isn’t Natasha, but I’ve always gone by that.”

“That is a fun fact,” you say. Nat laughs. You try to memorize the sound. “I like Natasha.”

“Then call me Natasha,” she says.

There’s a silence, but it’s not awkward. You eat your sandwich and watch the animals move around the farm. You wonder what Natasha is thinking about as she swings her legs and sits next to you.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” the redhead breaks the silence. “I feel like I can actually think and be free.”

“Yeah, I love it. Being out on a farm is my comfort place. So far, this one is my favorite,” you say.

“Why’s that?”

“The people. Clint, Laura, the kids,” you say. “And you.”

“I’m already a reason?”

“You were a reason I love this place the second I met you,” you say. You didn’t mean for it to come across so cheesily, but Nat doesn’t seem to mind. “Hey, how long are you staying here for?”

“A few more weeks maybe,” Natasha says. “Why?”

“In two weeks there’s supposed to be a meteor shower. Maybe we could come out in the field and watch it together?”

“Sounds fun,” Nat says, trying to act casual.

“I better get back to helping Clint. He’ll be pissed I let him stack bricks alone.”

You chuckle at her words. You want to ask her to stay, but at least you know you’ll be seeing her around.

And from that point on, Natasha brings you lunch every day. Laura doesn’t even have to ask her to do it. Nat wants to. She seems to sit with you longer and longer each day.

It all leads up to the night of the meteor shower. You wear a nice shirt and jeans and drive over to the farm.

When you knock on the door, Lila answers. You greet the family and have dinner with them. Natasha is in her element here. You can see how she lights up around the kids. And she loves watching you interact with them too.

Once dinner is over, you and Natasha sneak outside. You drive out to the field and lay a blanket down in the bed of the truck.

“Very fancy,” Nat comments.

“Only the best for you, Natasha,” you joke. “Laying down is the best way to see it.”

You both lie down a respectable distance from each other, but close enough that you both have butterflies.

“You know when I was a kid, I loved anything that glowed in the sky,” Nat opens up. “Stars, planets, and things that didn’t even really have to do with the sky. Like fireflies.”

“That’s really sweet, Natasha. I love those too,” you say. “There’s so many out here in the summer.”

“I wish I saw them more.”

“You’ve gotta move out here I guess,” you say. “Oh look!”

You point to the first meteor falling. Nat watches with bright eyes. You can’t drag your eyes away from the way she glows in the night light. Her green eyes are illuminated by the scene happening in the sky.

Natasha turns her head to the side and catches you staring.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away a bit.

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “But you are missing the show up there.”

“It’s fun to watch you watch it,” you say. “You’re beautiful, you know?”

Natasha definitely blushes at that. Her hand finds yours between the two of you. You’re it sure who leans in first, but you end up just centimeters from her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Natasha asks.

“Please,” you reply.

The distance is shattered between the two of you. Natasha’s kiss is soft, but firm. Her intentions are clear as she moves her perfect lips over yours.

“Now we’re both missing the show up there,” Natasha jokes when she pulls away.

“So worth it,” you say.

You kiss Natasha again. And again. And a few more times before you decide to go back to the house.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask her once you’ve walked up to the front door together.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “Thanks for tonight, y/n. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.”

“Anytime, Natasha. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she says.

You hug her for the first time and love the way she feels in your arms. It’s like she is perfectly shaped to be in your grasp.

You share a brief kiss before you let her go inside. As you walk back to the truck, you can’t help but do a little happy dance. Natasha watches through the window and laughs.

This is the start of something amazing. You can feel it.

You’re falling for her faster than the meteors fell in the sky. Little do you know, she’s falling for you in the exact same way.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 4 months

Note

hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!

I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking

Them as fathers

Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him

Kenma Kozume

First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.

You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,

No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.

Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.

Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.

Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.

Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.

You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.

He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.

Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.

Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.

Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.

Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)

Yu Nishinoya

Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.

Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.

I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.

Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.

This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.

Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.

And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.

Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.

This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.

Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.

He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.

Kei Tsukishima

When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.

He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.

Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.

Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.

The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.

Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)

You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.

Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.

Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.

Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).

Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?

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familyvideostevie · 8 months

Text

the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable.

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets. You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her." Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something.

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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spacedace · 1 year

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Bruce is grateful for the fact that Damian has made friends, he is.

He's happy that his son has met children his own age at school and befriended them. That he is growing from that prickly, unhappy, scarred child he'd first been when he'd come to live with Bruce. That his friends are even normal kids - baring Jon, who is still normal enough despite being the son of Superman and occasionally a super hero himself - with no links to anything strange or dangerous or illegal.

"Oh, sup B."

He just wished that his son's friends were also just a little less...feral.

"Hello Elle."

Elle Nightingale gave him a little wave with the lemon she was holding - or as best as she could considering the space she was working with - and smiled cheekily at him. Bruce felt a headache budding behind his eyes.

"I thought Alfred banned you from the kitchen?" She shifted a bit, nudging a bottle of milk - farm fresh, courtesy of the Kents, passed along via Jon as thanks for looking after him for the weekend. Bruce wished he'd had the foresight to expect that Jonathan Kent staying over for the weekend would mean that Elle, her cousin Billy and their friend BL - the children refused to say the girl’s real name, likely to spite Damian, and thr initials had been a compromise to calling her Box Lunch - would take it as them being permitted to stay over for so long as well. Damian had just given Bruce a an unimpressed look when he'd expressed his surprise at the sudden influx of twelve year olds in his home. As if Bruce was disappointing him at being so foolish as to think his entire pack of hellhounds wouldn't be invading enmass.

"Just getting a snack." He assured her, not wanting her to being the wrath of Alfred down upon his head. The hellions liked doing that, for some reason. "I don't suppose you could tell me what exactly you're doing in my fridge." Bruce tried, looking at the girl curled up in what should have been a deeply uncomfortable position between a few shelves of the large appliance.

Elle grinned. Her canines looked a little too sharp in the odd light of the fridge. Bruce really had to stop thinking of his sons friends as demonic hellions, he was starting to impose impossible features on them when he was sleep deprived.

"We're playing hide and seek." She made direct, unblinking eye contact with him as she brought the whole lemon to her mouth and took a bite out of it like it was an apple. "It’s Day's turn to seek." She added, lemon juice dripping down her chin as she swallowed her bite, rind and all.

Well at least she was getting enough vitimin C.

"Right." He nodded, deciding that it wasn't cowardice that led him not wanting to get involved. No, it was just...good parenting. Letting the kids be kids. It was a sleepover, and Damian was actually playing a game! That was something to be encouraged! Bruce wasn't fleeing from this particular group of children's brand of chaos at all. "...could you hand me one of the fruit cups Alfred made earlier?"

Elle obliged on the condition Bruce didn't tell Damian about her hiding spot and returned to happily eating her...whole lemon...as he shut the fridge door on her.

As he returned to his office he glanced out one of the manor's large windows long enough to see Billy stick his head out from the top of the twelve foot tall topiaries out on the front lawn, checking to see if Damian was about. Bruce shook his head, kids and their ability to climb impossible structures never ceased to amaze him. Billy should be careful not to keep trying to peak for Damian though, he was going to end up getting found that way.

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hyeque · 2 years

Text

asking him for nudes [nsfw]

feat. tsukishima, kuroo, kita, atsumu, tendou

notes: will probably do a version of this for jujutsu kaisen

warnings: female!reader, masturbating, degradation, edging in atsumu’s, atsumu flashes his team 😕, implied cum eating in tendou’s

tsukishima is annoyed, but when is he never? you begged and whined for nudes while the man was at work, for god's sake. he firmly told you no in the beginning and to stop acting like a brat. but when you kept pushing for some, and sending clips of how needy you were, he broke his composure.

the blonde slips into the employee bathroom, locking the door. finally freeing himself, he's already half hard. tsukki sends a picture of himself, smug expression and all with his pretty cock in frame. 'here. happy now?'. and of course he already knows the answer to that when you send a pouting picture in return. tsukishima can't help but take advantage of the photo to get himself off. he makes a video, spitting out profanities and words of degradation while he fucks his hand. he doesn't grant you the pleasure of seeing his face while he does. he knows how much you love seeing his face, but you disobeyed him, and this is punishment.

'you better not touch my cunt. i'm going to fucking ruin you when i get home.'

kuroo is ecstatic. he'll do anything for his pretty baby and the man is more than glad to send you some nudes. he doesn't send them right away though because he has to tease you first. he first sends a picture of his hard on through his slacks, the caption 'this what you want, baby?'. he knows you want more but he wants to see you say it. after successfully getting you to beg, he sends a video of him touching himself through his pants, telling you how it isn't nice for you to get him this worked up right now. how if you were in his office he'd have you bent over his desk. but of course kuroo asks for you to send nudes in return because he's dying to see just how wet you are for him.

being in his own office with no one else in the building, he doesn't hold back. he is loud—very loud. he's moaning your name excessively and telling you how good you always make him feel. asking you if you'll ride him and clench down like you always do so perfectly. his vest and button up are undone and you can see all of his toned chest. he whines and mumbles about how well you take him and how he can’t wait to fuck you. not long after, he orgasms and uses a tissue to clean himself.

'your turn, baby. let me see that pretty pussy i'm going to stuff full later <3'

kita is flustered. when he received a text from you saying 'there's an emergency' he was prepared to drop his farming tasks for whatever you needed. he wasn't expecting you to send him a video of you touching yourself, saying how much you need him. this is all new to him, but he wants so desperately to please you, so he tries his best. kita shreds his clothes, his fit and toned arms and chest in view, beautifully tanned from working outside. he truly looks ethereal.

he feels shy and a little embarrassed showing himself nude on camera but if anyones seen the man, there's absolutely nothing embarrassing about how pretty his cock is. he doesn't realize how pent up he actually is until he starts stroking himself, his whines and moans get gradually louder as he thinks about you and your cute cunt. but however the romantic person kita is, he starts rambling about how beautiful you are, and how he can't wait to start his own little family with you. he thinks you'll look so pretty round and carrying his babies. don't you? he rambled about how he'll take good care of you and your family. there isn’t anything that turns him on more than the thought of you having his kids. he knows you two planned to wait a little longer, but there’s nothing wrong with a little head start, right?

'sweetheart ya can't go and startle a man like that, now hurry home from work so i can finally have my way with ya. need ya pregnant by the end of the day'.

atsumu is smug. he knows he's attractive. he knows he's irresistible. especially when it comes to you. when he saw your message about sending nudes it was right after his practice had ended. sweaty and high on adrenaline, the blonde doesn't need to do much to get himself worked up. just seeing the messages of you being needy could be enough to get him to cum. but he is a performer, and as a performer, he must put on a show.

he teases you in the video, asking you just how badly do you want him and how you want him to take you. he assures you not to worry your pretty little head too much because however it is, he’ll be having you cum multiple times. the thought of getting you off brings himself to the edge and he knows he’s about to cum. but what's this? atsumu stops himself right before he can. his dick is a deep, scarlet red and his hard on by this point is near painful. but if there's one rule atsumu has, it's to not waste his own cum. the only place it belongs is inside of you and not the shower floor. once he’s done edging himself he sends a picture of his painful, rock hard cock.

he ignores the cries of his teammates and the noise of disgust (from sakusa specifically who said for him to 'put that thing away') when coming out the shower. he’s just trying to make it home to you now.

'ya don't know what you just started, angel. ya better be face down, ass up on the bed when i get home. yer not sleeping at all tonight.'

tendou is spontaneous. one nude was never the same from the last one. you're convinced that him sending nudes is more enjoyable for him than you, considering how worked up he gets. there was one instance where he told you he had a 'surprise for you' to bring home from work, and the man came home with his dick in a box full of chocolates. needless to say, if you didn't have a sweet tooth then, you do now.

but imagine this time around asking for some nudes he actually beats you to it, asking to send something at the same you do.

"i've been waiting for you to ask for this~" he sings in the video "i've been working on something for you, mon chéri~'. your anticipation eats at you while you wait, but it’s quietly followed by a gasp at the sight on your screen. low and behold, the man had made a chocolate mold out of your pussy. how he did it, you don't know. do you even want to know? you're even more choked up when you see him fuck the mold, his pretty moans taking up the video. your eyes are drawn to his slender hips and the way he moves them. you hate to say it, but you really do envy chocolate right now. tendou sweet talks you, saying how he wish he can't wait to have the real thing, and how your real pussy is much sweeter than any chocolate. a cute smile is plastered on his face and his pale skin is flushed a pretty pink, the way he shudders lets you know he's close. he loudly moans your name, cumming deeply inside the chocolate. grinning at his work, he shows it to the camera.

'i made all of this nice filling for you. you're going to eat it all, right?'

12K notes · View notes

virginsexgod69 · 3 months

Note

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention.

Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing.

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task.

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily.

“No thanks.”

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.”

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively.

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased.

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.”

“With Glenn?”

She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar.

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl.

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either.

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered.

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket.

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day.

The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you.

You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top.

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen.

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.”

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth.

“Eat this and keep quiet.”

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down.

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms.

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray.

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you.

In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas.

Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window.

“Yeah?” He grunted.

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you. Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you.

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth.

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard.

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter.

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time.

“Wha’ is it?”

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him.

Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes.

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it.

“Better?”

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it.

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him.

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised.

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him.

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile.

When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself.

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman.

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie.

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed.

“Lost track of time,” you explained.

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained.

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl.

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position.

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl.

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.”

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him).

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty.

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it.

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap.

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?"

"S'just w-warm in here."

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it.

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead.

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving.

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine.

He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame.

His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast.

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back.

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants.

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face.

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.”

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.”

“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied.

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore.

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again.

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted.

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.”

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes.

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake.

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?”

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat. “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions.

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans.

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away.

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks.

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits.

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him.

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that.

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely.

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern.

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted.

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience. He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand.

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still.

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body.

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close.

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you.

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms.

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest.

He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave.

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

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