#how cordyceps works. right. like surely
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ratcandy · 1 year ago
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when I've finally completed the story of COTL and don't have to be wary of potential spoilers anymore I'm going to go through the sozo tag and reblog everything in it sorry
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atomicladytimetravel · 2 years ago
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Quiet Type
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Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.
I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!
Word count: 5,444
Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.
Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.
“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”
It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.
“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”
Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.
“She’s fine, lower your guns.”
Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.
After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.
“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”
Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”
After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.
“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”
Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.
You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.
——————
Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.
One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.
“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.
“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.
One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.
“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”
“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.
“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.
“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.
“I don’t.”
“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”
That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.
“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”
“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”
You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.
——————
One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.
“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.
When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.
“So…uh…where you from?”
“You mean recently or before?”
“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”
That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.
“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”
“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”
“Well shit, what a small world.”
You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.
——————
“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”
You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.
“Where’d ya hear that?”
“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.
“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”
Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.
“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.
“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”
“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.
“I just have good people skills.”
——————
Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.
You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.
Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.
You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.
Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.
——————
You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.
“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.
“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.
“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.
“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”
——————
He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.
“I’m…sorry.”
You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”
He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.
“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”
“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”
“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”
And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.
“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”
“Oh. Well that makes sense.”
You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.
“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”
You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.
“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He waves the apology off and continues.
“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”
You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”
He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.
“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.
You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.
When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.
“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”
Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.
“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”
He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.
“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”
“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”
You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.
“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”
It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.
“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”
He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.
“Can I ask you a question Joel?”
“Go ahead sweetheart.”
He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.
“Is this a date?”
He chuckles heartily.
“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”
——————
Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.
You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.
“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.
“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”
He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.
“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”
His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.
“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”
He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.
“I really like you, too.”
You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.
“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.
“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”
You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.
“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”
“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”
You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.
“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.
“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.
He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.
“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”
He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.
“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.
He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.
“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”
He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.
“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”
He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.
“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.
“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”
He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.
“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”
“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”
You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.
“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”
“Please,” you manage to squeak out.
He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.
“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.
“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”
He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.
“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.
“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.
“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.
“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”
You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.
“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.
“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”
A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.
“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”
He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.
“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.
“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.
“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”
“No, rail me. I can take it.”
“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”
“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.
“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”
He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.
“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”
“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.
He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.
“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”
He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.
“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.
“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”
He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.
“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”
He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.
“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.
“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”
With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.
“Holy hell woman. That was…”
“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”
He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.
“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.
“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”
“Noted,” he chuckles softly.
“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.
“Of course.”
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The Museum - A Joel Miller Drabble
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader Rating: A Joel fic that's rated G? Incredible. This is fluffy fluff fluff. Word Count: 535 a/n: I cannot express to you how much I'm firing on all cylinders at the moment, but I found time to write this little drabble today for TLOU Sundays! The last one before our collective demise! Imma go cry about that now.
You hear him before you see him, immediately aware that there's something different about him today. Something lighter in his step and in his soul when he finds you in the kitchen, his arms quickly winding around your waist to secure you against his chest.
"Smells good, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, nose already tucked into the crook of your neck in a way that makes you wonder if he's talking about the chicken cooking in the pan or you.
"You're home early," you point out, carefully flipping the food as his hands settle against your stomach, his thumb trailing beneath the edge of your shirt to brush against your skin. "I thought you had patrol today."
He shakes his head, "conned Tommy into taking it for me so I could do something else."
You frown, brow furrowing. "Something else?"
"Something else," he confirms, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before he shifts to stand straighter, resting his chin atop your head. "Working on a surprise for Ellie."
"Joel," you scold, now well aware of exactly what he had been up to. "You shouldn't be out..."
"I found it," he cuts you off. "The museum."
Of course he had. You'd been the one to figure it out, really, that the science museum might still be standing, right where you remembered visiting it when you were Ellie's age. The idea of actually finding it, however, was entirely his.
"Took me a bit to find a route there," he explains, tightening his grip around your waist to remind you that he's here, with you, because you know he's well aware of your opinion on him roaming outside Jackson on his own. "Things are pretty grown up now and some of it is in kinda rough condition, but it's not a bad trek."
He continues to ramble on about the exhibits that are still standing - the spattering of skeletons from an age far before cordyceps changed the world again, stuffed animals somehow still in better condition than most of the human population, and the space exhibit that had been the reason you'd remembered it in the first place. "The capsule is still there and everything, just like you said," he recounts, and it hits you just how excited he sounds about the whole thing.
After carefully removing the pan from the heat, you turn in his arms until his hands have settled against the small of your back, your front pressed into his form as you look up, the same enthusiasm evident on his face. "You're sure it's safe?"
Joel nods, just once, before his lips find yours in a soft kiss, your arms naturally finding their place around his neck as he pulls back, your foreheads still touching. "As safe as it can be."
You don't like that answer, and you know he knows that, but you're also aware that he's been through far worse. You all have.
"Just be careful, okay?"
He kisses you again, the same way he always does, in an unspoken promise that he will. "Ellie's gonna love it," he whispers when your lips part.
"Yeah," you confirm, the thought of her surprised expression bringing a smile to your own face, "she absolutely will."
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yelenaslyubov · 13 days ago
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STAKEOUT
MAIN MASTERLIST || REQUESTS
a/n: i’m so sorry about the delay in celebration fics!! me and my partner had out of town family in town so we’ve been so busy, but i’m getting back on track🫶
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: dina woodward x reader
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: language, blood, violence, guns, action
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: dina trades her shift for a dangerous one that you’ve been assigned to. with summer creeping up fast, together you explore new territories while running into a bit of trouble along the way.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 1.8k
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It was late afternoon and your alarm buzzed beside you. You had slept the morning away after your night shift in Jackson. Just like the night before, you prepared for another long night.
You were typically paired with burly types of men who outwardly looked like they could handle themselves. This usually made it easier for you to do whatever you wanted.
Though you liked to wander off and explore the surrounding area on your own, it would have been nice to have a friendly face to help you complete your job. That’s why you were so surprised to see Dina at your front door.
“No shit,” you said. “How much convincing did you have to do to get this rotation?”
Dina smirked and slipped inside the entryway. “Had to trade a few of my shifts, but I made it work.”
“If I had known it was you, maybe I would’ve cleaned up a bit.” You looked around your house at the displaced pillows and clothes all over the floor. You and your roommates were really good at living in chaos.
“What’s the fun in that? Old habits die hard.” Dina leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. “Seth hooked us up with some food for later. I have blankets and a med kit in case you decide to fuck around again.”
“Very funny,” you fake laughed. “I can’t help it that those rocks were damn slippery.”
Dina reached around into her bag and pulled the kit out. “Now you can have all the fun you want.”
“Alright, you’ve got jokes. We should probably get a move on before the sun starts to set. We have a little ways until we’re at our assigned post.” You gathered the last of your things and you left with Dina.
It was early spring and the snow had finally all melted. Groups at the settlement were being sectioned into groups and being sent out occasionally to explore new areas. They were instructed to scope out the foliage, fauna, and of course, infected. They hid around every corner, so Jackson wanted to be prepared as much as possible, especially when it came to areas that had lower traffic.
Jobs like these could be quite dangerous if not done correctly and efficiently. Causing too much attention to yourselves could be life or death, so you had to be on your guard.
You and Dina arrived at the stables where a couple of the volunteers had already tacked up your horses. “Oreo! How’s my boy doing today?”
You approached your black and white horse whose tail was whacking back and forth. You rubbed his nose and patted his neck.
“Still the stupidest name for a horse,” Dina said while mounting her own.
“God forbid I name him after my favorite destroyed snack!”
“Nutter Butter was far superior.”
You scowled at Dina. “Agree to disagree.”
It was about an hour from the sun setting when both of you started your journey outside Jackson. Your departure was announced by the guards inside the wooden walls of the city. Like usual, you started your trip by racing to a certain point to see who would get to the next marker first. Dina won, which meant she had bragging rights for the next however long until your destination.
You passed by slaughtered animals and groups of dead infected that you hoped were killed by your people. You were not allowed this far up North most times, so you made sure to study every element of the land.
The one and only thing about cordyceps that you thanked them for was the regrowth of natural humanity. While the people could never be replaced and you would be forever angry about the beautiful life you had planned with the people you planned, it was nice to see that one thing flourished in the midst of horror.
You had seen more animals in the wild these last few years than you had ever seen in your entire lifetime. Mother nature was reclaiming what was naturally hers to begin with.
Dusk was falling now, making the shaded woods even darker now. You were startled when Dina spoke up suddenly. “I think we’re almost there!”
She had the map pulled out that Tommy had given you. There was a large red circle around the area of coverage you were assigned to. Based on the landmarks you agreed that you were getting close.
“So… you and Jessie?”
Dina scoffed. “Why don’t you ask him? I can’t read him these days, so I’m not sure where we stand.”
“Well, if he doesn’t want you, I’ll take him up on the offer.”
Dina whipped around to stare at you from her horse. “You did not just say that? I’m not some objectified piece of meat everyone can pass around… when are you free?”
You and Dina laughed, but your fun was cut short from a noise echoing from your left. What sounded like several coyotes most likely traveling in a small pack. You knew any kind of loud noise such as that could be grounds for blowing your cover.
Both of you stopped in your tracks and you instructed the horses to stop too. You were waiting for any kind of sign that you were in the clear to proceed.
The sounds of the coyotes dwindled, but they were replaced with sounds of infected nearing the animals.
“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath.
You looked at Dina who was looking intently in the direction of the noise. You watched as you focused on the sounds, lifting a finger and counting the amount of infected that she could hear.
“Maybe four, five even? We’re too far away, so I can’t be sure,” she said.
“We need to move, now.”
As silently as you could with horses, you trotted up the hill through the trees, stomping through limbs and vegetation to find a safe space to lay low. After a couple minutes you came across a section of the forest that was almost made of a green wall.
“Behind there!” Dina pointed towards the shelter, leading you to it.
The distant cry of the coyotes meshed with the hungry sounds of the infected that threatened to run your way echoed through the forest as you tried to find a hiding place. The threshold of greenery covered almost the entirety of the horses, only the tops of their heads could be seen. You crouched down and peeked through the bushes to keep a lookout.
“There’s no way they didn’t hear us, right?” you whispered.
Before Dina could answer, two infected came walking quickly around the trees. She unlocked her gun from her holster and held it at the ready. She stood up and aimed accordingly, hitting the first in the shoulder, slowing it down a little. For the last two shots she got them right in the middle of the head, just how Tommy taught her.
“Nice!” you quietly cheered
“We’re not done yet.”
Without fail, three more surprised you from behind the trees. Dina went for one that was closest to her, while you hit the far ones. You were able to take out one on the right side, but the one in the middle was tricky. It was almost as if it knew what it was doing. It was zigzagging back and forth in the grass, making it harder to shoot and kill.
“It’s getting closer…” Dina warned.
“No kidding!” you snapped while squinting to look through your scope.
It was getting too close for comfort and you had to lose the gun. It would be no use to you up so close and it would be far more of a safety hazard.
You threw the gun to the ground and frantically reached for the large knife strapped to your thigh. You could tell it was getting closer by how close the sound and smell was now. Once you raised up again, the infected was right in front of you, pushing you backwards against the tree.
It screeched and thrashed in front of your face while the weight of its body pinned you to the bark. Your arm was trapped, but you slowly shimmied your arm out to get more leverage. It’s face leaned in close to you and you thought you might be a goner, but you freed your hand in time. You forcefully shoved the knife into the side of its neck, then pushed it away from you, slicing its neck all down the side.
It collapsed in a heap on the ground, blood pooling into the cold, damp dirt. You were panting loudly from your quick hand to hand combat combined with the adrenaline.
Dina looked over at you. “I think that was all of them.”
“If not, we better start moving right now, preferably somewhere that’s not casting out all light because we can’t see anymore.”
Night had approached quickly, meaning you also had to work quickly as well. Things weren’t as easy to deal with in the night, which is why you were anxious to set up camp.
You walked maybe a mile more before settling down by a small stream. You washed your knife off in the river, washing away the blood that was dripping down it. The moon was a great surprise as far as a light source, making it easier to see in the dark.
You tied the horses up for the night and made a small fire that you hoped wouldn’t draw too much attention to you. The fire was warm and you laid your sleeping bag down with your head facing the fire. You snuggled in under the bag and enjoyed the warmth.
“You ever think about the fact that it took a catastrophic pandemic to be able to see the stars so clearly again?” Dan asked while staring up at the sky.
“Honestly? Yeah, I do think about it,” you said sadly. “Sometimes when I start to relive the worst days, I like to think that every new and old star that has been shining brighter is one of the beautiful souls lost here on Earth. One day I’ll have a star of my own to shine down on someone new.”
“That’s… really sad, but also kind of beautiful.”
“It just comes to me sometimes,” you lightly laughed.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to try and sleep even an ounce, so I’m going to get a head start.”
“Night, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
“More like don’t let the infected bite.” Dina paused for a moment. “Pretend I never said that.”
You laughed to yourself, never taking your eyes off the sky. Each twinkle of each small little star made you smile.
“Oh, and y/n,” Dina said after a couple minutes. “Let me know when you’re free and maybe we can work something out.”
You thought back to your conversation earlier and you smirked. Though you were usually able to sleep through anything, you thought that sleep may be harder to find tonight. You couldn’t help but drift off to the lingering answer from Dina.
.
.
.
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lillaydee · 2 months ago
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I'm Right Here Part 7
BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader
Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.
@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket
Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list
WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault
SERIES MASTER LIST
Part 6
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You cleared your desk for the evening, feeling the jitters that you had managed to forget for the last few hours as the clock hit 530pm.
“You okay darling?” Mrs. Adler asked, the kindly older lady giving you a sympathetic smile. You nodded, giving her one back, albeit slightly half-hearted. Jake walked out of his office then, placing his lunch box on your desk, sitting in front of you.
“Things are not better?” he asked.
You only managed a weak shake of the head and a regretful smile.
He sighed, rubbing his face.
“Don’t give up on him, darling. He’s stressed. We’ll figure this out. We’re all trying to figure this out. He’ll be alright. This is all just… new, and with the other one not cooperating, he’s frustrated… I know he shouldn’t be taking it out…” he stopped when you waved your hand at him and froze. You heard his truck approach.
You got up and collected your purse and bag, gave him a kiss on the cheek, waved Mrs Adler goodbye and walked out, taking a deep breath to brace for what was coming.
“Hi,” you said as you climbed into the truck, placing your bags on the footwell and pulling at the seatbelt. No kisses. No more. Not since last Friday. Not since Jen came charging at your door with the news big enough to implode a thousand worlds. He hummed in return, taking his foot off the brake pedal and drove out of there.
After an extremely uncomfortable 8 minutes of driving, he stopped in front of Hank’s, immediately freeing the gear and pulling the handbrake. He stopped for a moment, playing with the keys to his truck in his hands, staring at them for longer than necessary, if it was even necessary in the first place at all.
“You sure you’re up for this? We don’t have to,” you started. He heaved a huge sigh of frustration and opened his door. “Let’s just get it over with,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
You took a few extra seconds to breathe before finally leaving the truck, walking into the busy bar, locating them immediately. Joel was already at the bar, ordering drinks for the two of you. You hugged Olivia and the guys, sitting down next to Eric.
“How is he these days, Daze?” Tommy asked. The rest immediately stopped talking and focused on you, Benny keeping a watch for Joel. You were the only person they could ask. Any attempts to ask him directly had been met with hostility. Even Anita and Aunt Tina got the silent treatment the moment they asked him one too many questions last week.
“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything. Will you all stop?” he had frustratedly said, “She’s not answering any questions, she’s not willing to provide proof, all she talked about was moving in with me and starting a family I don’t want! And stop fucking looking at me like that!” he had ranted before telling you that the two of you were leaving, right in the middle of the family lunch. He stopped answering their calls, slammed the door in the men’s faces when they stopped by after work, even came close to punching Tommy in the face when he tried to ask his brother to answer Anita’s calls.
Thing was, they didn’t see that he was exactly the same with you, only it was worse because you lived with him. Gone were the sleepovers, the man sleeping in the living room rather than his own room or yours, buying a single mattress from Ikea to sleep on in front of the TV when the sofa gave his back an unwanted ache. He’s refusing to talk to you, refusing to touch you, refusing to do anything with you. He hardly ate, hardly slept, judging by the sounds of the TV in the middle of the night when you woke up for the bathroom. You tried to sleep with him in the living room at first, accidentally on purpose falling asleep as you watched TV, but he woke you up and instructed you to go to bed. He won’t even lift you into bed anymore, just poked you with his feet and gruffly told you to go inside.
It was as if the old Joel disappeared. The joker, the funny man, the romantic one. That charming smile disappeared overnight. Some semblance of him remained after that initial lunch weekend, but after Jen’s visit, he completely disappeared. In his place, a quiet, grumpy, ready to explode at everyone, depressed man appeared instead. He stopped shaving, staring into the void even if he was supposedly watching the TV, becoming selectively deaf to your questions. Any questions asked, even mundane ones like what to get for dinner, or if he could take you to the grocery store were answered with grunts or short answers, and even those, snappy ones. He was angry with the world, and he took it out on you.
It was immediate, the change in him. One minute he was the hungry man kissing you as if his life depended on it, the next, he was the screaming, vulnerable, panicked one who threatened to beat the living crap out of Jen if she didn’t leave right away.
Jen wasn’t exactly helping, refusing to answer his questions, insisting that they had sex despite his claims otherwise. When he started talking about paternity, she turned her attention on you, going into your room to pack your bags, screaming at you to leave, that this is her house now, that Joel needed you to be gone if he was going to be a good father, that you were in the way of an innocent child having a father and a mother, a happy family.
She screamed and threatened to report him to the cops if he didn’t do as she asked. Joel threatened the same, but she laughed in his face, asking him if anyone would believe his story, what with his reputation with women compared to her own with men. That his ex-conquests would be lining up to testify against him. That it’s time for him to receive karma for the way he had treated women all his life. Joel literally picked her up and dumped her outside, screaming and begging to be let back in. She only left the property when the neighbours threatened to call the cops on her.   
So, no, things were not better. If anything, they had gotten worse. Joel withdrew further and further into himself, shutting everything and everyone outside, including you, especially you. Except, it felt worse when he did it to your face rather than just ignoring your calls.
You kept telling yourself to be patient, to be understanding. That there was a massive reason behind this change, that he was going through something unimaginable. That there was no way you could understand what was going on inside his head. But every single time he shut down in front of you, you felt your heart chip a little more. You wanted to help him. You wanted him to know you were there for him. But he was not letting you.
Everyone’s faces fell as you shook your head, playing with the hem of your blouse. But they had no time to ask for details. Joel was back, placing your drink in front of you, taking a seat, drinking his beer in complete silence. It took a lot of convincing for him to be here, and his agreement was not made clear until he actually parked in front of the bar not five minutes ago. He placed his beer back in front of him, crossed his arms on his chest, turned to Olivia and took a deep breath.
She seemed to understand his signal.
“Okay, I need you to listen until the end before you say anything. I spoke to my friend, she’s a lawyer. She could help you with the process if you choose to go down this route.”
He didn’t say anything. His eyes were still fixed on Olivia.
“You need to file a paternity petition, legally ask for a paternity test. If you do, and she is lying, which we all highly suspect, the truth will come out whether she likes it or not. She needs to prove her pregnancy with the lawyers present, meaning she had to go to the hospital and get a blood test. That pregnancy test is not valid in this case. And then you will attend a hearing and present your case. If the judge finds reason to doubt paternity, they will order her to undergo this test.”
“She’s refusing. I already asked her, first thing.”
“She is claiming you are the father and is invested in making you raise this child with her, if the judge orders her to get one, she will have no choice but to do it, or she could be charged. If you don’t do this, she could keep lying, and you will be tied to her, Joel, even if you don’t end up with her, even if the baby is not yours, if there is even a baby at all. Her unwillingness to cooperate is odd, considering how adamant she is that you raise this child with her. I don’t think she’s willing to back down that easily, she’s gone this far. At this point, going the legal route is your best option.”
“Assuming we could get the judge to agree, how long do we have to wait for a paternity test? Don’t we have to wait until the baby is born? What if she harasses Joel throughout her pregnancy?” Will asked. Joel took another drink, his eyes on focused on the water ring on his coaster.
“You can establish paternity once the pregnancy is 10 weeks these days. It’s a blood test for her, a swab in the mouth for Joel,” Olivia said. “Joel, if she is telling the truth, she should have no reason to refuse a court-ordered test. But you need to take this step. You need to file the petition to request for one.”
Joel could feel all eyes on him, his hand clutched into a fist on his thigh. You noticed. You put your hand on his, attempting to make him feel better. But he withdrew his hand from under yours and removed it from his thigh.
“What if she really is pregnant with Joel’s child? Can we do something about how the conception happened? Maybe get the cops…” Tommy started. Joel immediately got up in a huff, telling you he’s leaving. You got up with him, not willing to let him drive alone, or even be alone at all these days.
“Joel…” Tommy protested, but he simply walked off.
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The next morning, you woke up for your jog as usual, the first one you will take since you got injured. Joel hadn’t taken you out on walks since that night, and your body was starting to feel sluggish. You needed to start running again sometime, and this seemed to be the perfect time. He was still sleeping on his mattress. You didn’t wake him. He was up until four last night, you were sure of it. You peeked when you went to the bathroom, you could see that his eyes were open, staring at the TV, looking but not seeing, even in the darkness. The drive home was unusually quiet and tense, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have it in you to egg him on and ask him about Olivia’s proposal.
You put your earbuds on and turned on your music. You powerwalked that first mile, wanting to get into the rhythm again, having not jogged for the past month or so. There was still a small twinge of pain on your shoulder when you started running, so you kept a leisurely pace, not wanting to aggravate it further.
You were maybe a little under two miles in when you heard a shuffle beneath all that music, and before you knew it, you were face down on the pavement. You scrambled up and took your earbuds off, coming face to face with a very angry Jen.
“What the fuck Jen?”
“Serves you right. I told you to move out. Why are you still living with him?”
“Because I live there, and you do not. I’m not moving just because you told me to. What gives you that right?”
“Joel and I are going to be married. We are having a child together. You are standing in the way of our child having a happy family!”
“So you said. Funny I didn’t hear the same sentiment from Joel!”
“That’s because you are still there, feeding him poison to make him stay away from me!”
You wanted to scratch her eyes out, squish them into slimy goo and feed them to the rats. But you held yourself.
“You know what? You’re right. Joel would absolutely love to raise this baby with you.”
Her anger seemed to dissipate slightly.
“You think so?”
“As soon as you get a paternity test.”
She rolled her eyes. “What is it about you guys and your obsession with paternity testing? Why are you so hellbent in believing I would lie to him? Trap him?”
“Because that thing a man and a woman need to do to make a baby? Yeah… your version of events is a bit sketchy. It can all go away and truth will be out, all doubts shall disappear, as soon as a paternity test is done.”
“I know my truth. And Joel knows what really happened that day, despite his claims. He’s not getting away with this. And if you were a woman, a true woman, you would bow out and give us a chance at being a family. Are you really so desperate to be with him that you are willing to break a family up?”
“I have said everything I need to say to you, Jen. Paternity test, or nothing. And if you keep this attitude up, we will not hesitate to get the law involved.”
Her smug face turned white. She got more and more desperate, shrieking at you. “Why are you even involved in this? You have nothing to do with this. This is between me and Joel, and no one else! Why can’t you just leave? This is all because of you! You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in!”
You knew you were going nowhere with this deranged woman. You shrugged, “Well, I’m not moving out. Not until Joel asks me to.” You turned around and put your earbuds back in, tired of dealing with her.
“Oh no, you don’t!” she screamed, pulling you by the collar of your shirt. She raised a hand to hit you when a truck screeched to a halt next to you. Joel came out, screaming at you to get in the truck.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Jen?”
“I’m just trying to secure our future, Joel. She’s in the way. She needs to go so we could plan for our baby’s arrival!” she pleaded, her demeanour shifting drastically from anger to desperation.
“Paternity test. And then we’ll talk.”
Jen’s eyes flashed towards you once more, full of anger. “This is all your fault. You couldn’t have just left, could you? You need to ruin my life? What have I ever done to you Daisy?”
Joel helped you into the truck, closing the door behind you. He walked around the truck to get in, Jen following behind.
“Joel, how could you choose her over our baby? You need to tell her to leave. We need to put our baby first. We need to get married, for the sake of our baby.”
Joel stopped abruptly, turning around, taking such aggressive steps towards Jen she shrunk back, taking desperate steps back onto the curb. “You listen to me carefully Jen. I am filing a petition with the courts for a paternity test. I’m gonna make you prove to the courts that you are indeed pregnant with my child, and if you can prove that you are, I will do what the courts tell me to do. I will only listen to them, not you. And let me make myself very, very clear here Jen. Even if I am the father, don’t you ever, EVER, think for a second that I will be with you. I don’t want you anywhere near me, let alone marry you. And if you try to force me in any way, I will press charges against you. I will walk into that police department and report you for drugging me, for assaulting me without consent, and NO!” he raised a finger in her face as she opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t care if no one believes me. I don’t care if people look at me funny. I don’t care if I get laughed at for being an assault victim. Fuck, I don’t even care if they can’t prove anything and drop the charges. Cause by then, everyone will know what you allegedly did. I will make sure of it.”
Jen stared at Joel with her eyes wide, shocked that Joel would lose it on her like that.
“Joel!” she gasped. “How could you speak to me like that?”
“I will speak to a deranged, lunatic of a woman like you however I want. You didn’t give me a choice, so I am not giving you one either. Don’t bother me again. If you know what’s good for you, I’d better not see you again until we’re in court.”
He climbed into the truck and drove off.
“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he snarled, not looking at you. You didn’t even get a chance to open your mouth before he started on you. “What the fuck were you thinking leaving the house without me like that? Do you even know what she could’ve done to you?”
“I’m not a child, Joel. I can take care of myself.”
“I promised Eddie I would take care of you!” he screamed.
“And you’re doing a great job at showing it!” you snapped back just as he parked with a screech in his driveway. You got out and walked into the living room, the door having been left wide open. “Wonderful way of taking care of me so far, Joel. Ignoring me, snapping at me, screaming at me. All I’m trying to do, all anyone is trying to do is to help you Joel! But I can’t, we can’t, no one can, because you refuse to talk to anyone.”
His head snapped towards you, his face the epitome of anger.
“You want me to talk? Okay,” he said, slamming the door behind him. “Let’s talk. What do you want to hear? That I feel like a fucking loser who was idiotic enough to be nice to a lonely woman who turned out to be a deranged stalker? That I let her drug me? That there is a huge possibility that she…” he stopped, swallowing, looking away, rubbing his face, “Sexually assaulted me and took what she could from me without my consent? That I couldn’t do anything to prevent it? That I don’t remember anything about it? That I might be a father to a child I already know I will hate for the rest of my life, that I’m already the definition of a deadbeat dad for not wanting to have anything to do with this child ever? That I’m thinking of ways to run? To escape? That I’m refraining myself from going over and just choking her to death so I can just live the rest of my miserable life behind bars than deal with this whole thing? That the thought of that woman doing things to me makes me feel like I want to scrub the living shit out of my skin and just… stop living? Is that what you want to hear?”
Tears were swimming in your eyes. You tried to take his hand in yours, wanting to make him feel better, but he pulled his hand away. He looked as if he was struggling from saying something, contemplating the repercussions of him saying what was on his mind, his neck taut, his jaw tight. You tried one more time, and he finally snapped.
“You think I want you touching me? You think I want any woman touching me at all? You think I would ever want to be with you, or any other woman at all after this? That I could trust anyone ever again? You think I don’t lie awake at night thinking this is my karma for never wanting to be in a relationship? That this is just what I deserve for telling the women before you that I am not interested because I was waiting for my special someone? For the woman I have been in love with since I was six? You think you want to be with me if that child is real? You want to be with a deadbeat dad who wishes he was dead or behind bars if it means he didn’t have to deal with this child? Cause if you do, then you are even more pathetic than I could ever imagine.”
You stared at this man you had known since infancy. This was not him. He’s just scared, you told yourself.
“Joel…” you said, as gently as you could. “We could get through this. Let’s just get the process started, okay? Talk to Olivia’s friend. We’ll get through this. Together.”
He huffed a laugh. “Together,” he muttered.
“Look, I know that you must feel…”
“How the fuck would you know how I feel? Huh? Have you ever been assaulted? Has anyone drugged you and taken advantage of you while you were out of it just for the sake of trapping you with a baby? Do you know what it feels like, knowing that going to the cops will only result in people laughing at you, that no one would take you seriously? Calling you a cry-baby for feeling dirty just because some lady might have had sex with you? That because you had casual sex before no one would believe you if you told the truth? That the person who did this to you could get clean away with it? And you might have to pay her child support for the next 18 years while you go on to live your miserable life? You know how that feels?”
You didn’t know what to say.
“That’s what I thought. So don’t you dare tell me you know how I must feel. Cause you don’t fucking know anything.” He walked into his room, and you could hear him rummaging about. He came back out with a duffel bag.
“I’m ending the lease. You have one month to arrange for a new place, or you could take over from me. I’ll be staying at Tommy’s until I get a new place,” he said, opening the door. “I’ll be back from time to time to get the rest of my stuff.”
You couldn’t believe your ears. “Joel… we can work through this. You don’t have to leave. We’ll look for a place together. We can move if that’s what you need to move on.”
He stopped, the open door in his hand. He turned, his expression unreadable.
“You think I want to live with you? Why? So you could do to me what Jen did?”
You felt your blood turn cold. You stared at him for a while, his eyes still devoid of any feelings.
You turned around and walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.
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“Welcome to the company Miss Stevens. We are excited to have you join us. Congratulations,” your new boss offered a hand for you to shake. “It’ll take a week or so to sort your papers, but we definitely want you to join the company.”
You gave him a polite smile, excited for the opportunity. But there was a heaviness in your chest, knowing that you would go back to an empty house with no one to pop the champagne with.
“Thank you, I really appreciate this. I didn’t think I would even be considered,” you told him.
“Well, Jake Miller is an old friend of my Dad’s, and he was raving about you. And based on the interviews and the trial runs you did with us, he’s right.”
You made a mental note to get Jake the most expensive bottle of whiskey you could afford with your first pay.
“Now,” he said, taking a folder out of a drawer. “We are required to let you know the options. We sorely need people in other branches too. You could stay here in our Austin branch, of course, but there are others if you are interested to hear them? They’re all the same position.”
You nodded, just wanting to hear the options.
“Well, there’s one in Saint Paul, though the winters could get quite gnarly there in my personal opinion, and there’s another in Miami. Although I have to warn you that Miami is a very expensive city, given you are on a starting salary. Then again, so is Austin. But at least you have a good support system here already,” he said. He looked at the folder again, “There is one overseas, though I doubt you would want this one. The pay is lower, but you will get free housing, if you could call the shoebox they provide housing. It also means you would be tied to the project for a while.”
“Where is it?”
“Bangkok, Thailand.”
“How long is a while?”
“At least ten years, if not longer.”
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Joel walked into the house, an empty duffel bag in his hand. Tommy came in after him with boxes. They started packing his room, Joel working as fast as he could as if his body would combust if he stayed there any longer.
“Go pack your books. I’ll settle things in here,” Tommy said, clocking his brother’s discomfort.
Joel got a couple of boxes and went into the living room, placing books in the boxes, his heart feeling a bit more relaxed now that he was out of that room. It’s been two weeks since he left you at that house, and every day was a struggle. He got the process started for the paternity petition, but the court date was weeks away. He didn’t even want to think about it anymore. He had gotten to the point where he was just surrendering to his fate, letting the chips fall where they may.
Jen did try to accost him at the building site he was working in, but Tommy managed to fend her off. The cops had to be called one time. She left before they got there.
Tommy had been understanding, keeping him busy at work to the point of exhaustion, coming home only to collapse into bed. Benny kept him informed of your well-being, he knew you got the job you had interviewed for a few days after he left. He wanted so badly to call you and congratulate you but given how he had spoken to you the last time you spoke, he didn’t think you would want to take his calls. He sent you flowers, though, he watched from afar as you received them and brought them inside.
He refrained from going to the office to see you, only going back home for clothes when he knew you were out of the house. But by God did he miss you. Oh, how he missed you. He wanted to come home, talk to you, but your face when he said those words to you kept popping in his head. The way you shut down. The way the emotions disappeared from your eyes. The way your body just went lax, as if all the energy you had to fight this battle with him, all your resolve to be strong for him, all your love and respect for him just flew out of your body. And the way you simply turned around and slammed the door behind you…
He will make up for it. He had to. He knew that. But the shame of saying what he said to you in the first place stopped him.
Fuck, how could he ever make up for what he said to you?
He heard Tommy’s phone ring, the younger man picking up. His voice went from his usual volume to a hushed, secretive one, whispering or mumbling something Joel couldn’t quite make out.
Joel placed more books in the first box, getting the second box ready to put more books in. He grabbed a few from the top shelf, the small, metal box sitting there catching his attention.
The small metal box he had kept Eddie’s ashes in.
He put that in his room, if he remembered correctly. You must’ve taken it out after he left. He searched the shelf for the ceramic jar you kept your share of the ashes in, but it wasn’t there. Did you bring it into your room?
He went to your room, stopping a while, contemplating if he should open the door. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see the jar for some reason. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to stand in your room, get a whiff of you. The essence of you that he had been missing for the past two weeks.
Your room was empty, save for the bouquet he had gotten you, left on the bed. No jar. No books. No sheets. No clothes. No suitcases. You were gone, but the traces of your perfume was still strong, lingering heavily in the air.
He ran into the bathroom, your toiletries were gone.
He ran into the kitchen. Your mug was gone.
His heart turned cold.
“Tommy!” he called out, panicked.
Tommy appeared, looking solemn, as if expecting his call.
“Did she get a new place already?”
Tommy leaned on the kitchen wall, hands in his pocket. “You can say that.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“She got the job, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s in Asia. Benny and Eric just dropped her off at the airport.”
Joel felt as if his heart stopped beating.
“When does the flight leave?”
“In two hours.”
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Joel jumped out of Tommy’s truck, gunning it through the crowds. He kept calling you, but you didn’t answer. Tears were pouring down his cheeks, his breath in short bursts, his heart trying not to collapse in his chest. He kept redialling, hoping to God by some miracle he would hear your phone ring and locate you amongst the sea of people around him. He ran and ran until he finally heard a faint ringing. He turned around.
There you were, standing there looking at your phone, your backpack strapped on your back.
“Daisy!” he screamed as loud as he could. You turned and saw him, the crowds stopping to look at him for a split second before moving on with their lives. He frantically dialled your number again starting to run towards you, but two burly men in uniform stopped him, telling him he’s not allowed to go where you were without a ticket. You looked at him, at your phone, and turned it off.
You took your passport and ticket from the clerk at the desk before looking at him one last time.
Joel furiously rubbed his eyes off the tears that were clouding his view of you. Beautiful, perfect you. You stared at him from afar for a few seconds before stepping inside to the international barrier, safe from him, about to board a plane that would put two oceans between the two of you.  
He could only watch as you turned around and walked away to your new life, never looking back until you disappeared in the crowd.
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Part 8
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papermint-airplane · 2 months ago
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🍄🧟‍♀️💘
Did someone ask for a hot cordyceps zommy mommy?
No?
Well you're getting one anyway!
I have learned a new thing with this photoshoot as well because with every single photoshoot, I try something new. It doesn't always work out but sometimes it does and those are the times that really count. Today, I learned how to use depth of field in ReShade! Sort of. I'm...still not sure how it works. I just fiddled with things until I liked the result but sometimes it either didn't kick in or didn't blur the background enough and I'm not skilled enough to know why. I would love pointers on how to use it.
I'm not 100% happy with how these pictures came out but I'm happy enough that I'm sharing them anyway. Besides, zommy mommy more than makes up for my shortcomings with the DOF and lighting, right?
...
RIGHT?! 😒
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amyispxnk · 8 months ago
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My Kind of Woman
Chapter 6: Don’t Leave Me in the Dark
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Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter
Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.
Chapter summary - An overnight patrol leads to the resurfacing of some old wounds.
A/N: why did i almost cry writing this wow i don’t think i’ve ever written something quite so angsty ever. And i don’t even think it’s that angsty. whoops
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: fluff, pet names, angst, violence, death, mention of suicide attempt
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“Alright guys! Good work today, I’ll see you next week.” You grin, waving your students goodbye as the bell rings, signalling the end of the day.
It’s finally Thursday, which means that you and Joel will be going to the guitar store on your patrol, where you hope to find some stuff for Ellie’s birthday.
As you walk to the stables, you mull over the thoughts of some other gifts for the teenager, in case you don’t find anything there, before Joel greets you.
“Hey, sweetheart, you ready to go?” He smiles softly, biting back an even larger grin at the way your cheeks flush from his words. He’s found himself acting more confidently with you, even being able to tease you with this pet name nowadays since he discovered how flustered it could make you.
“Yeah-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, and you clear your throat. “Yeah. Let me just go get May ready.”
You feed your mare an apple before checking your bag and equipment, mounting your saddle and riding out of the gates with Joel.
The trail is much nicer at this time of year as spring slowly fades into summertime. The sun shines down on the pair of you and birds sing around you. It’s picturesque, and almost makes you forget about how the world is today, taking you back to a simpler time where you could walk outside your door without fear of being shot or torn to shreds by the end of the day.
“So anyway, we’re gonna head down here for a bit and then take a left. The store is in this little town we found a few months back.” Joel comments, breaking you from your thoughts.
“Alright.” You hum, and the two of you continue making your way there.
At around 7, you reach the little town, tying your horses up near the outskirts and grabbing your guns before heading deeper. Joel tells you that they weren’t even sure if the place was clear when they first came here, so it probably won’t be now. You should be ready for anything.
Hopefully it’s not as bad as that Route D patrol, you think to yourself as you crawl through rubble and make your way into the building.
That all-too-familiar feeling of unease settles into your bones as the darkness envelops you, dust floating in the air around you, made visible by your flashlights.
It’s pathetic, but you really don’t like the darkness. It’s scary enough when you can see what’s coming for you, but when you don’t know? When the unknown is all that surrounds you wherever you look?
You think that it’s worse.
Your eyes settle on Joel beside you. Even though his gas mask is on, you see that he’s looking at you, checking that you’re okay. His presence always makes you feel better, you’ve come to notice.
“Let’s do this.” You say, determination coursing through your veins, and he nods, leading the way.
As you walk down corridors, scanning rooms and closets, you find that the most remarkable thing in the building so far has been a decaying old body which has been swallowed by a cluster of cordyceps. Certainly not a promising sight, since it means that you’re bound to encounter some infected sooner or later, but you hope that the numbers aren’t strong.
Just over an hour later, you’re thankful to be right, having only encountered half a dozen runners, which you and Joel took down fairly easy.
“Hell yeah! Look, there’s some guitar stuff-” You start, forgetting yourself slightly in your excitement, causing a clicker from a stray closet to come barrelling through, charging straight for you. It jumps on top of you, causing you to scream, starting to fight back when Joel pulls his revolver out and shoots it thrice in the head. He tugs you out from beneath its now limp body.
He pants heavily, eyes wide as he looks at you.
“Are you bit?”
“No.”
He gives you a once-over before shaking his head, letting go of your wrist.
“You could’ve died. Fuck. Y’need to be more careful, can’t go around yellin’ like that.” He mutters, scoffing before walking off.
What the fuck? Why did he seem pissed off at you now?
“Jeez, sorry for almost fucking dying, Joel. I’ll be sure to not do it again.” You huff, going to the other side of the room to start searching for some stuff for Ellie’s guitar. You find a packet of strings and a pickboard with an intricate floral design on it that you think she’ll love. You’re pretty satisfied with the turnout, and pocket these items before heading back to Joel.
You’ve cooled off from the previous encounter, still a little annoyed from how he spoke to you, but not having the energy to fight over it. You’ve noticed the sun slowly starting to set, your detour to the store adding an extra few hours to your patrol and meaning you’ll likely have to spend the night here. You really don’t want to be arguing throughout it.
“Find anything?” You ask quietly, coming to his side. He hums in response, handing you a pick he found.
“Could probably carve somethin’ into that. Make it a little more unique for her, ‘f you want...” He says, trailing off again at the end.
“Oh, that’s a great idea! Could you?” You smile, excited to make the gift even better for Ellie. She’s special to you - why would you have gone to all of this trouble for her present, after all?
“Sure.” He nods, appearing uninterested in arguing and moving on from it by now as well.
He’s about to turn to leave when you speak up again.
“We’re probably gonna have to spend the night, Joel. Look outside.” You tell him, and sure enough, the sky has gone from a pale blue to a deep orange. You won’t make it back to Jackson in time, and you’d rather not be riding in the darkness.
“Yeah, reckon you’re right. Y’got your sleeping bag?” He nods, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Yes I’ve got my sleeping bag.” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m always very prepared, Joel. You know this.” You tease, kneeling down to untie your sleeping bag.
“Sure, darlin’. Then you’d know we should secure the room before setting up the camp. Since you’re always so prepared.” He smirks, and pink tints your cheeks once more.
“Yeah, I was just- you just said to get the bag out so I just.. Whatever. I’ll secure the room.” You mutter bashfully, making him laugh. That laugh was worth the embarrassment, you decide as you stand up to help barricade the doors and windows.
You finally sit down around a little cooker just after the sky goes black, an owl hooting in the distance, wind rustling the leaves outside. It’s oddly calming.
“Thanks for earlier, by the way. I’m sorry for shouting. Was stupid.” You offer quietly, unable to meet his eyes over the stove, instead zeroing in on a piece of ravioli in some 20-year old Chef Boyardee.
“No, I-” he sighs, “Shouldn’t’ve gotten all annoyed at you, either. I’m sorry. Y’were jus’ excited, sweetheart. Nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Yeah, I guess. Thank you, anyway. You totally saved my ass. And you brought me here, too. I haven’t even thanked you for that. If I didn’t have you, I think my gift for Ellie would’ve been so shit.” You chuckle softly, and his lips curl into a smirk.
“I know, I know, you’d be completely lost without me.” He teases, and you laugh a little harder, giggling and hiding your face from him.
Moments like these are why you love being with Joel so much. Laughing so hard that your entire body floods with warmth and your stomach hurts by the end of it. It’s a welcome feeling in these times.
Wait. You love being around Joel? Your brows furrow as you have a conversation with yourself in your mind. You 100% just used ‘love’ and ‘Joel’ in the same sentence. That’s a scary, dangerous path to be going down right now. Just keep it chill.
Joel doesn’t seem to realise your internal struggle, getting up and wiping his hands on his jeans before taking your can and putting them to the side.
“Alright, I think y’should get some shuteye now. I’ll keep first watch. Night, sweetheart.” He says softly, feeling an unfamiliar but comforting feeling blooming inside of him at the thought of spending a night with you. Even if it’s just for patrol, it has him thinking about the potential future of your relationship. Maybe it could become more.
“Goodnight, Joel.” You say quietly, getting in your sleeping bag and facing away from him. You go tense when he turns the stove off, the room plunging into darkness. He doesn’t know of your fears, you realise. In fact, you don’t know much of anything personal about eachother at all.
A few uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing minutes later, you finally relent, sighing and rolling over to face him.
“Joel?” You say quietly into the night, eyes searching for him as you adjust to the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“Can you- can you put the light on? I know it’s a waste of power but.. I just can’t really sleep in total darkness.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and you want to shrivel up and die. He probably thinks it’s a stupid, irrational fear. Being afraid of the dark in a world like this is pathetic, you think.
“Yeah, course. I didn’t know, sorry sweetheart. Y’gon be okay?” He soothes your mind, his low voice putting you at ease.
“Yeah.” You mumble, and he turns the light on before it goes quiet again.
You keep tossing and turning for a good five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen. Fuck. Why are you so restless tonight? You guess that it’s because you haven’t slept on a patrol in a while, especially not in someone’s presence.. especially not in Joel’s presence.
You sigh frustratedly. Maybe you should just take watch instead.
“I can’t sleep. Let me take first watch instead. You rest.” You grunt, moving to get out of your sleeping bag.
“No, darlin’, you should sleep. Is somethin’ botherin’ you? Anythin’ I can do t’ help?” He offers, eyes soft and large as he gazes up at you from his seat on the floor. It makes your heart swell even more at his caring nature.
“It’s okay, Joel. Just sleep.” You say quietly, clearly not prepared to back down now. He sighs deeply.
“We can take watch together, yeah? I don’t… I just prefer bein’ awake out here.” He murmurs, and it’s only half of the truth. He actually just wants to make sure you’re safe. That, if you accidentally fall asleep or something, he’ll still be awake to protect you.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” You say, yawning softly as you take a seat on his right side. He turns back to face the window, and your eyes fall on that scar again, the one which lies at his temple.
“Hey, Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t even blink. Did he not hear you?
“Joel? Joel.” You say, a little louder now. He finally turns.
“Are you deaf or something?” You tease, but he doesn’t smile back.
“‘M sorry. I- yeah, kinda.” He responds, a little gruff.
“Oh shit. Sorry.” You say. He was kinda old, you realised. Not that much older than you, but still.
“‘S okay. I uh.. It happened near the start of the outbreak. In a fight.” He mutters, unsure of why he even told you that.
Well, he does know.
It’s because he wanted to tell you the true reason, but that’d probably scare you off, or weird you out. He can’t get that personal with you after only a few months of talking. For some reason, your presence just comforts him like no other, and he feels like he’s known you for years, like he can tell you everything, but you also know everything already, anyway.
“Damn. How’d you make it through the outbreak half deaf?” You murmur, genuinely curious now. That must’ve been why he always takes the left side in almost everything you do on patrols. Clearing a house? He’ll start on the left. Riding along a trail? He’ll listen out for anything along the left side of the path. You had your own suspicions, but this proves it.
“Dunno.” He shakes his head, gaze growing cold as his mind goes elsewhere, eyes getting wet as he recalls all he felt after losing Sarah.
You notice this, and start to panic a little. Shit. You’d asked for too much. You’ve brought up something sensitive unknowingly, and he’ll resent you for it.
You can’t just sit here and let him cry though.
“Hey, it’s okay, Joel. You- you can talk to me. Y’know I’m always here for you.” You say softly, turning to face him a little better. He turns his head and meets your eyes. For some reason, seeing him upset makes you want to cry too, resulting in your own eyes getting a little misty.
He clears his throat before he speaks.
“Had a daughter.” He chokes out, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds.
Your heart almost stops. Had. Ellie wasn’t his kid, but he used to have one.
You try and think of what to say. I’m so sorry, Joel. That’s terrible, Joel. It’s a basic response, and you feel like it wouldn’t help. For once, you find yourself unable to navigate the situation.
“Scar ain’t from a fight. ‘S from me. Few days after Outbreak Day, when she-” he cuts himself off as his voice breaks, eyes squeezing tightly together.
You don’t know what compels you to do it, but you wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment and you panic again, wondering if that was a bit bold, especially in his emotional state. But then his arms come around you, and he lets you in. He bites back the ugly sob that wants to escape his chest, instead only allowing a few silent tears to fall. You sniffle as you feel them on your skin.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” You whisper, heart breaking as he cries quietly.
“Sorry. That.. was a bit much.” He mumbles, pulling back a little and clearing his throat after a moment, realising he’s supposed to be closed off and not let anyone in, not expose his emotions or feelings or thoughts, but you shake your head.
“Everyone has their demons, Joel. You shouldn’t be afraid to let yourself feel, especially around me.” You murmur. Maybe you should share your own past. You don’t want him to feel alone.
“You wanna know why I’m so afraid of the dark?” You begin, and he doesn’t protest, so you take a deep breath and continue.
“Lost my brother a few years back. Maybe a year before I got to Jackson. We were actually trying to find the place, travelling through the night, and we had to cut through this mall. There were infected roaming outside, and even though we knew that the mall could have raiders in it, we didn’t wanna take on a dozen clickers. So… we start wandering through this dark mall. No lights, no windows, and we only had one flashlight. He went in front and I was following, but- but I knocked something over. And then we heard voices in the distance. They said that they would check out the noise.” You pause to collect yourself, trying to prepare mentally as you recount what happened next. “They said that.. That if they saw anyone to just shoot them. All I remember was that it was so dark, before we saw the flashlight on a rifle. I barely had a chance to think before my brother grabbed my hand and ran blindly with me. We tried finding the exit but- just when we saw the light, he got shot. It was in his stomach and-” You cut yourself off with a quiet sob, trying to continue. “He just crumpled. The last thing he told me was- was to leave him. To keep going for him. I could hear the men coming, but I was still trying to pick him back up or- or something. Then I saw the man aim his gun at me and I panicked and I ran. Like a coward.” You can’t stop yourself from crying now, unable to say any more.
“Oh, baby…” He whispers, pulling you closer and letting you cry. You whimper at his touch. When was the last time you properly cried like this? You’ve been so used to putting on a mask that when you finally let go like this you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“I just- I feel so guilty. I don’t deserve to be happy and safe in Jackson without him. I should’ve died that night. I knocked over the fucking boxes, I-”
He shushes you gently, recognising what you actually mean, knowing the feeling all too well - and knowing you don’t deserve to feel like that.
“Don’t say that, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to live and be happy here… Don’t ever say that.” He says, quiet, but firm in his tone.
You sniffle, exhaling shakily. His words don’t totally convince you, but you know deep down that he’s right. He would’ve wanted you to be safe. He would’ve rested easier knowing that he was able to protect you in the end, that it was all worth something.
“I miss him, Joel.” You whimper.
“I know. I miss my girl so much it hurts. It never gets easier, does it?” He says, to which you nod, burrowing further into his side as you yawn softly. You cried yourself to exhaustion.
“Just sleep now, okay? I’ll be here. We’ll keep the lights on.”
You just nod, too tired to respond as your brain finally powers off, and you fall asleep.
He sighs, stroking your hair as he looks back to the slit in the window. He always knew. There was no way someone could truly be this happy on the outside, and really feel it on the inside. He wishes you did feel it on the inside, though. The pain of losing someone you love was one of the worst pains imaginable - he had the scars to prove it.
The next morning is quiet, but not awkward. You both exposed yourselves last night. Even though he said way less than you, you know that your levels of vulnerability vary greatly and you both showed eachother your rawest feelings and shared your darkest memories, deepening your relationship further.
“You ready to head back?” He says after you’ve packed everything up, and you nod.
The journey back starts off quiet, the two of you still deep in thought, before you finally pull yourself back together a little - enough to have some normal conversation.
“So, you got a party planned for Ellie’s birthday?” You ask, looking over at him. He’s on your left again, and you try not to think about why, now that you know the true reason.
“I dunno. Was gonna do somethin’ at the Bison, but I’m not sure yet.”
“Joel!” You gasp playfully. “Her birthday’s only a few weeks away! You gotta let me help you plan this party. I’ll make it into every 16 year-old’s dream.”
He gives you a teasing look, and you roll your eyes. “Trust me, Joel. I got better taste than you, that’s for sure.” You argue, and he relents.
“Fine. If she hates it, I’m blamin’ you.”
“Challenge accepted.” You snicker, hiding the bubbling excitement inside of you, knowing you’ll be spending even more time with Joel over the next few weeks.
Trying to ignore the fact that you cannot fucking wait.
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Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3
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popfishjr · 6 days ago
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House MD × The Last Of Us AU
The two of them kneel in the damp dirt, lungs rapidly working for air. House stares at the wound on Wilson’s forearm. It’s oddly bite-mark shaped. He pulls Wilson’s rolled up sleeve over the bloody, broken skin.
“You’ll be fine,” House’s voice is unnervingly calm. He rips a section off his blood-stained The Who band tee (most people wouldn’t know that, due to the fact that it’s faded beyond recognition), and knots it around Wilson’s upper arm, though he’s not sure why he does that.
“You’ll be fine, you’ll- you’ll be okay,” his voice breaks. Why does it hurt so bad? House pushes the question away.
I’ll have the time to figure it out later, House thinks as he gets to his feet. The prosthetic leg chaffes against his skin. Long hours of running has taken its toll, it seems.
Re-adjusting his bag-strap over his shoulder, he offers a hand to Wilson, who just stares up at him. There’s something swirling like a storm in gaze. House is afraid. He doesn’t want to know what that look means, but it reveals itself to him anyways. Wilson stares up at him, and in his eyes he sees pity and longing, and under it, the fear and the desperation. Wilson doesn’t take his hand.
“Time to wake up and go-go, Jimmy.”
The joke doesn’t sit right in House’s chest.
“Two hours,” Wilson chokes out. His throat fills with overwhelming anguish, threatening to spew out his trembling lips. He can almost feel the tendrils of cordyceps creep through his veins, finding its greedy way to the host’s brain.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
House’s hand is still outstretched insistently.
“I have two hours, House.” Wilson’s voice is soft like an apology, almost a whisper. He pats the ground next to him. The grass is wet and muddy. “Sit, please.”
The neurons in House’s head fires signals at their own clumsy and desperate accord. They tell him to run. They tell him to yell. They tell him to yank Wilson to his feet. They tell him to sit. But sitting feels too difficult. He just stood up. Shouldn’t they be walking away by now? His mind echoes with the mangled remains of Wilson’s words.
Two hours.
“You could have eight hours,” House points out, and something in him rips itself apart. He adknowledged it. It’s real, it’s happening.
“I’m giving myself two hours.”
And so House sits. Wilson tenderly holds his hand, as if House is the one who’s dying.
Fuck the oncologist and his stupid oncologist habits.
The first thing Wilson does is lean in and kiss him. His lips are soft, and they tremble slightly.
From emotion, not from the infection, House reminds himself. He kisses back, and he knows that will be the very last time they do it. Better now than risk infection when the fungus eventually invades the trachea, growing and spreading till it crawls out Wilson’s mouth. House shudders at the thought.
“I’m sorry,” Wilson says after the kiss breaks. He mutters into their interlocked hands, “I’m sorry.”
“If you plan to spend your two hours apologising, please tell me. I’ll happily shorten it to five seconds.”
Wilson laughs. House wonders how he still has the strength to form anything resembling a smile, much less a laugh.
For a long moment, they just sit in silence, bloody fingers brushing and circling tender goodbyes on bruised knuckles. The need for words had left their relationship long ago. If there’s anything that needed to be said, they’d have said it already.
In this moment, Wilson’s presence reads like a sad song. Or perhaps it reads like the macadamia nut pancakes that will never be made by his hands ever again. A cold and lonely winter awaits Gregory House.
House can’t help but resort to earlier memories for comfort. He sinks deep into his own head.
The night he bailed Wilson out from jail. House had felt the thrill of having a complete stranger to pick apart in front of him. Wilson owed House, and so he let himself be picked apart. Too soon, House found himself stuck in the rabbit hole of Wilson, and apparently Wilson had done some picking and digging of his own as well.
He moves forward in time. The day the infection had begun its ruthless attack on humanity. Wilson had dragged him out of the hospital and drove him home. Chase’s wheezing and gasping breath still haunts his mind.
Then, there came the day, three years later. Wilson begged him to amputate his bad leg. He’d just came into contact with a doctor specialising in prosthetic limbs. Turned out that Wilson had been searching for one for a year.
“Please, House,” Wilson begged. “You'll die if you can’t run.” I can’t afford to lose you.
“That’s ableist,” House joked, but he knew Wilson was right. He usually was. And so after one night of quiet sobbing, he finally agreed. Wilson held House’s head close against his chest, fingers caressing tufts of hair. “Thank you.”
House threw all his painkillers he’d gotten from trading that day.
House’s mind returns to the the present. He pulls Wilson closer, allowing him to rest his weary head on his shoulder. His hand found its way to the back of Wilson’s neck, toying softly with the soft strands of hair.
House doesn’t know when, but Wilson’s hands had begun to tremble.
He tightens his grip, trying to quell the twitching muscles, only for Wilson to pull his hands away.
“No.”
The word slips out of House’s lips involuntarily. His voice is small, weak.
With unsteady hands, Wilson unzips his bag, and pulls out his gun. He presses the cold metal into his hands.
House evaluates Wilson’s state. He shakes his head, attempting to push the gun away. “You still have time.”
“Yes,” Wilson makes sure House’s hands held firm on the weapon. “So you can take your time.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Wilson doesn’t miss a single beat. Yeah. No, he doesn't
“Why do you want me to do it?” House doesn’t want to stop talking. It’ll be just like the old times, where House would say something stupidly genius, and Wilson would say something geniusly stupid in retaliation, then life would go on.
“I need to know if you can m…move on,” Wilson guides House’s hands up, until the gun is aimed at his forehead. “If you can do this, you can move on.”
“I’ll shoot myself after I shoot you,” his hands shakes, as do Wilson’s, but for painfully different reasons.
He sighs. “I can’t stop you, but, please… please d-don’t,” Wilson swallows, and he swears he can feel tendrils creeping up his throat. It’s getting hard to talk, like he’s forgetting how.
Wilson wonders if his memory is starting to fade. He can’t remember the last time House cried like he does now.
He sees the amalgamation of grief, anger and loss in his tears. And yet, there is acceptance. He reaches out a hand to dry the other's tear-stricken face. House will go on without him.
"I love you."
"This is such a chick flick moment," House manages through his tears. "I love you, too."
Wilson smiles, and it reaches his eyes. "I know."
And House pulls the trigger home.
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keeshya6 · 5 months ago
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Worth the Effort
Joel Miller x F!Reader Insert
4.8k words
(18+ only. MDNI. To continue, please click "Read More" below.)
This fic is strongly inspired by the Raider Joel series by @toxicanonymity. My own take on him, of course, but Toxic's version of Joel definitely got the idea bouncing around in my head! Love your Raider Joel, Toxic!
If you aren't familiar with the series, you can find it here: Raider Joel.
This fic takes place a few years after the Cordyceps infection outbreak. I'm not entirely sure of the canon timelines for this time period, but this is canon divergent anyway. In my head it's before Joel gets to the Boston QZ, and Joel hasn't met Tess yet.
There is an element of dubcon to this, due to some glaring imbalances in the power dynamic. However, ultimately, Reader is a willing participant. So it's dubcon-ish.
This is meant as a stand-alone one-shot. However, depending on how ya'll like it, I could see turning it into a series of one-shots.
Please let me know you're thoughts! I hope you enjoy!
CW: Plot-what-plot?, plot-maybe-if-you-squint, dubcon-ish, power imbalance, gruff Joel, blow job, rough blow job, oral sex (male receiving), deepthroating, cum eating, breathplay, hair pulling, manhandling, D/s tones, dirty talk, tears, saliva, size kink, sexual acts outdoors. Please let me know if I missed any.
Edit: Part 2 is up now! What to Expect
------------------
The snap of a twig is like ice water thrown over you. It makes your blood run cold with fear and your eyes widen as you straighten up from adding another log to the fire. You turn towards the sound, unsure of exactly where it came from, your breath caught in your throat, eyes searching the surrounding trees.
Other than the occasional sounds of a bird or small critter, it’s been quiet since early morning. So much longer than normal. You wouldn’t usually have started a fire before the rest of your group got back to camp, but it’s going to be dusk soon and the autumn chill will settle in. You figured it would be nice for them to have a warm fire to return to. Maybe some of the ones that don’t really like you would even appreciate it.
Not that you’re exactly looking forward to when they return. The leader, Phillip, always likes to ‘celebrate’ a successful run by leading you off to his tent. You play along, make him feel wanted, even if he’s about the furthest from your type as you could possibly imagine. Still, you’re not much good with a gun, so you’re no use out on their raids. You figured out a few years ago that you had to have something to offer in exchange for protection. You’ve gotten pretty good at stitching up gashes and cooking over a fire, but getting ‘friendly’ with the leader of a group like this one has been your best bet, and it's worked out alright so far.
Sure, definitely not the life you imaged for yourself but then again no one ever expected the world to end.
So yeah, you don’t look forward to them coming back to camp, but you also know you’re safest when they are in camp.
But if they were the ones approaching, you know they would be making more noise than whoever… or whatever… is out there right now.
Your eyes dart around the trees and you carefully back away from the fire towards the opposite tree line of the small campsite. Meanwhile you pull a small revolver from the pocket of your jacket, hands trembling and eyes wide.
The soft crunch of fallen leaves to the left has your focus snapping that direction, shakily raising the pistol. There’s an inhuman groan from beyond the brush and a terrified sob lodges in your throat.
Shit. Where the hell did an infected come from? This area has been clear for weeks!
A startled cry nearly tears out of you, though it’s cut off by the hand suddenly clamped over your mouth from behind, as you’re pulled roughly back into something firm.
“Don’t move or make a fucking sound,” an unfamiliar voice growls softly into your ear as the stranger’s other hand snaps out to snatch the pistol from your hands. He holds the gun out in front of you, his hand much steadier than yours ever would have been, as you freeze against him, mind whirling and eyes wide above the hand over your mouth.
When an infected stumbles into view beyond a large group of bushes you bite back another terrified sob. The unfamiliar hand stretched out before you doesn’t hesitate though, squeezing the revolver’s trigger.
You wince as the gun fires, and the infected turns towards you, only for the bullet to lurch its head around before it unceremoniously drops to the leaf strewn ground with a thump.
You, and the stranger you’re still pressed against, remain frozen for what feels like forever, listening and watching the trees.
“Looks like it was alone,” he says lowly, finally unwrapping his hand from across your mouth and stepping back from you, taking your pistol with him.
Trembling, you spin to face him, eyes widening again as you come face to barrel with your own pistol. Your hands lift into the air and you tear your eyes away from the gun and to the brown eyes of the man holding it.
“Please…don’t…”
Those dark eyes glance over you, hard and cold. “If you’ve got any other weapons on you, I strongly suggest you let me know and drop them right now.”
You give a quick, negative shake of your head. “I-I don’t. The pistol is all I had.”
His eyes leave you for a moment, darting around the camp before leveling on your face again. “Where is everyone else?”
“I…I don’t know,” you admit, daring to barely shrug. “They left early, to go find supplies. Left me to watch the camp. They…they’d usually b-be back by now.”
A relieved sigh escapes you as he barely lowers the pistol. At least you don’t have to look down the barrel any more.
His head cocks to one side slightly. “What’s this group look like?” he demands.
“Um…” you hesitate, biting your lip. Giving information to a complete stranger seems like a bad idea. You know Phillip will be pissed off if he finds out.
The stranger gives a faint snarl and lifts the gun again, making you anxiously pat the empty air between you.
“Okay… okay. There’s seven of them. Five men. Two women. The l-leader is kind of tall, bald, and lanky… like, like a skinny biker guy…”
He pauses and then nods, lowering the gun between you and straightening up to his full height as he looks around the camp again. “Well, they ain’t comin’ back. Took them out a few hours ago when they tried to jump my group. Sorry, Darlin’.”
That might be the coldest and most insincere “Sorry” you’ve ever heard in your life.
It takes a few moments for your thoughts to catch up with the news as your heart hammers and your eyes widen, darting around frantically. “Oh fuck…” you barely whisper.
The stranger studies you as dread settles over you and then, apparently deciding you aren’t a threat, he tucks your gun into the back of his pants and steps off to the side to kick at a couple of the sleeping bags laid out around the fire.
You don’t notice at first, your mind running rampant with the implications of Phillip’s death, but when you do notice you turn towards him with some measure of indignation. “Hey! You can’t just-”
The words lodge in your throat as he spins on you again in the middle of rummaging for supplies, the pistol materializing back into his hand, though he doesn’t bother to raise it. You also can’t help noticing that he has a rifle slung over his shoulder, so obviously he didn’t need your gun.
“I ‘can’t’ what?” he snaps back at you.
Eyes wide, you stare at him for several moments before speaking again, keeping your voice as calm as you can. “Please. This is all I have now…”
He huffs at you and looks down to kick at another sleeping bag. “Tough luck, darlin’.” His dark eyes lift to you again, brows drawn together in obvious confusion. “How did you even end up left here? Don’t seem much use to watch camp, if you can’t hold a gun without shaking…or much use at all, for that matter.”
You bristle a little at that, but then sigh. He’s not exactly wrong.
“I…do other things. Cook, first aid, wash clothes…other things…” Your voice trails off.
His head cants at you again and, for the first time, he seems to really look at you. Study you. In fact, his eyes drag over you and then he arches a brow, obviously guessing at what you’d left out.
“Oh really? ‘Other things’?”
Your cheeks flush with warmth, but you tick your chin upward slightly, holding your head high and narrowing your eyes at him. “Fuck you and your judgement.”
The first hint you’ve seen of any emotion crosses his face. Amusement. He smirks.
“Oh, I ain’t judgin’ you, Darlin’,” he says, crouching down to scoop up a can of baked beans that had been under a sleeping bag. His eyes quickly return to you as he straightens up again, stepping over to a backpack you hadn’t noticed before to tuck the can into a side pocket. “Difficult times and all that. Just got me wonderin’ if those ‘other things’ are worth the effort of takin’ you back to my camp with me… or if I ought to just leave you out here on your own.”
That sets your mind to reeling again and your haughty expression disappears as your brows pull together with concern.
What are you going to do now?
It’s your turn then, to really look at him for the first time. To study him.
Tall and broad. About forty, you would guess, with dark curly hair and a patchy beard, both just starting to sport a bit of gray. Plush lips. A strong, curved nose. You’re guessing the tan is natural, though you can’t see much of it given that he’s wearing a long sleeved, buttoned up flannel shirt and jeans with boots and a jacket. And then there’s those dark eyes that seem to pierce through you.
He’s handsome. You can’t deny that.
Then again. Does that matter, given your predicament? It’s just a bonus, really. At least, unlike Phillip, this guy is actually your type.
Biting your lip, you take a deep breath and let your eyes meet his once more. Your head slants and you let the faintest of smiles touch the corners of your mouth.
“I am good at the ‘other things’,” you admit.
That makes him laugh and you’re surprised to see a dimple crease his cheek. It’s not a mirthful sound though. If anything, it’s condescending.
“Oh, Darlin’. You’d have to claim that, wouldn’t you? To save your own skin?”
Biting back a retort, you manage to keep the pleasant smile on your face even as your thoughts jump through a few hoops to consider options.
Turning more fully towards him, you realize your hands are still held up and you slowly lower them to clasp behind you, consciously giving a slight arch to your back to accent the curves of your chest through your own jacket as you look up at him.
“Well, yes,” you admit, “but I could also… show you.”
He gives another chuckle, letting his gaze drop to your torso for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “No lingerin’ loyalty there, hm?”
Your shoulders lift in a slight shrug. “We weren’t exactly close. Plus, if they’re dead, what’s loyalty going to get me? Other than dead, too?”
He studies you again for a few moments, a smirk still touching his lips, before he nods in agreement. “True. So…” He pauses, his tongue tracing his teeth behind his lips. “...what are you offering?”
“Pretty much anything you want,” you say, keeping your tone as steady as possible despite your nervousness, “but only for you, as long as you can keep me safe.”
There’s another pause and then he chuckles darkly. “Oh, that’s a wide net, Darlin’,” he says, his voice taking on a rumbling note. “But I meant right now, to prove you’re worth the effort.”
You blink a few times, biting your lip and letting your eyes dance down his tall frame again. At noting the slight bulge at the front of his jeans that wasn’t there a moment ago, you barely manage to keep from smirking. You obviously have his attention, but his agreement isn’t close to secure yet. No need to get too confident.
Returning your eyes to his, you do let a coy smile tug at your mouth as you dare to slowly take a step closer to him, glad to see he doesn’t tense or lift the revolver again.
“Well… the offer is the same. ‘Pretty much anything you want’.”
It feels like it takes forever for him to respond, and he does by tucking the pistol into the back of his jeans again and stepping closer to you, closing the distance so you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His hand lifts to adjust the strap of the rifle on his shoulder and you notice he’s wearing a broken wrist watch. Before you can even think to comment though, he reaches out to catch your chin in that hand, and he turns your head side to side, taking in the details of your face.
You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until your lungs start to burn and you slowly force yourself to inhale, all the while keeping your eyes on his.
“What’s your name?” he demands lowly.
You tell him, and then barely arch a brow at him to silently ask the same.
He hesitates while his eyes linger on your lips. “Joel.”
“Joel…” you repeat his name softly, after swiping your tongue out across your lips to wet them, forming the word like it’s something decadent.
His eyes darken and a faint smirk appears again after a few heartbeats pass.
“Oh… you do know what you’re doing.”
You can’t help returning his smirk and giving a faint shrug. No point in denying it.
Joel’s thumb brushes over your lower lip then, stopping in the center of it and barely pressing down, watching the tender flesh pillow to either side. Then those dark eyes lift to look around before coming back to yours and his voice takes on a slightly deeper tone from in his chest.
“How about you show me what this pretty mouth can do, Darlin’? We’ve got maybe half an hour before it gets dark. So you’ve got that long, before I head back to my camp…with or without you.”
You study his face as you consider, briefly.
There was a time when you would have been appalled at the thought of going down on a complete stranger, but like he said, ‘difficult times’. Besides, now that you’re close to him you can see that he at least tries to keep clean and doesn’t even smell badly. You could never claim the same of your now, apparently, deceased protector.
Maybe Joel is an upgrade?
That faintly optimistic thought lingers and you give a little nod of your head with another coy smile, letting your tongue trace over your lips once more. “Okay…”
With a smirk, Joel’s fingers give a firm squeeze to your chin before releasing it, and then he holds his hands out and down at his sides, his head tilting to the side.
An invitation to proceed.
Swallowing thickly, you take a deep breath and nod, hesitantly reaching out to him. When he doesn’t move to stop you, your hands slip under the edges of his jacket to touch his chest and then trace your fingertips downward. You can’t help noticing the muscles beneath the fabric, even where there’s a little softness at his stomach. It reminds you of working men you used to know, before the world ended, and briefly has you wondering what he was before that fateful day.
Pushing those distracting thoughts aside, you focus on the task at hand, your fingers deftly working open the belt looped into his jeans while you shift your weight and sink down to your knees, your eyes lingering on his face as you do.
The smirk on his lips lifts a bit, his tongue darting out over them as his hand cups under your chin again briefly. “Hmmm… lookin’ awful pretty down there, Sweetheart.”
You snort a faint laugh at him, which has him giving you a shameless grin that shows off that dimple again. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least he isn’t completely without humor.
When he releases your chin again you finally let your eyes drag down his torso to where your hands work open the front of his jeans. You find boxers underneath them and tug the jeans down just enough so you can reach your hand into the flap of the boxers and wrap your fingers around his hidden cock. Your eyes widen a little again as you carefully pull him free, a hiss escaping above you.
He’s only semi-hard but already impressive. Long and thick with a slight curve. Once he’s fully hard (and he’s hardening more just with your hand wrapped around his base) you have little doubt he’ll be larger than any you’ve taken before.
Well, shit, what have you gotten yourself into?
There’s a dark chuckle above you and you glance up at his face, finding his head canted to the side again.
“Think you can handle it, Darlin’?” he teases.
You blink up at him a few times and then smirk.
You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.
So, in answer, you lean forward and nuzzle your mouth and nose against the underside of his length, eliciting a faint moan. You toss him a smile and he just quirks an eyebrow at you in return. Tilting your head, you mouth at him softly, starting just below his glans and moving downward, all without breaking eye contact.
You can't help noting that your earlier guess had been correct: he at least tries to keep relatively clean. His scent, while decidedly masculine -musky and earthy-, isn’t overpowering or dirty.
A definite upgrade.
Darting out your tongue past where he disappears back into his boxers, you lick at the tender skin where his shaft meets his sac. Watching his face as you do, you’re gratified by the way his teeth clench and a low growl escapes him.
With another coy smile, you let your eyes lower to focus your attention on his dick then, giving him a firm stroke with your hand before flattening your tongue and leaning back in to slowly lick a thick line from base to head, tracing a prominent vein along the underside of his length. The end of your tongue teases the ridge of his glans, before you continue to lick up and over the smooth, blunt tip. You flick your tongue through his slit, getting a taste of tangy, salty precum, and drawing out a rumbling hum from Joel as his cock twitches in your hand.
Glancing up once more, your breath hitches in your chest at the way Joel's eyes have darkened even more and you give a little start at feeling his fingers slip into your hair, his big hand cradling the back of your head. He urges you closer again.
“Come on, Darlin’,” he growls, “time's a-wastin’.”
You hesitate only a moment, finding yourself a bit enthralled by that look in his eyes. But the pressure of his hand increases and you gasp in a breath, snapping out of your stupor and nodding quickly, focusing once more with your heart hammering in your chest.
Wetting your lips with a sweep of your tongue, you part them to feed his cock into your mouth with one hand wrapped around his base. You have to open wide to accept his girth and your brows arch in surprise as you realize he's still growing harder in your hand and on your tongue, for the first few moments he’s inside your mouth.
Fuuuuck… He’s big.
You're grateful when he seems to finally come to full erection a few breaths later, feeling like steel wrapped in velvet. Much more and you might have had to spontaneously learn to unhinge your jaw.
Massaging the underside of him with your tongue, you draw his turgid length further in and hollow your cheeks around him. You give as much suction as you can as you take more of him, breathing through your nose shallowly.
The deep groan he gives is encouraging, as is the increasing pressure of his hand on the back of your head, pushing you further down on him. When his cockhead bumps the back of your mouth, making your gag reflex kick in and your body jolt, his voice is an unsympathetic snarl above you, between breaths that are getting more jagged.
“Better relax and take it, Sweetheart. You got…one shot at this…and tossin’ your dinner on me will be a…sure way of gettin’ left behind…”
You give a muffled mewl around the hard flesh in your mouth, earning you another dark chuckle. He doesn’t relent though.
Gulping in a bit of air at the last moment, you will your jaw and the muscles in your neck to relax, as he pushes past the constriction and into your throat. You can feel the tender skin stretch around his intrusion and tears prick at your eyes. Soon the rest of your body tenses, urging you to struggle, to fight for air. Your eyes flutter as you resist that urge, forcing your throat to accept more as he pulls you in, until your nose is nestled into the cotton of his boxers and pressed against the coarse hair underneath it.
He holds you there.
Every muscle begins to tremble as you fight against that instinctual imperative to lash out until your lungs taste sweet oxygen again. You look up at him, his towering form obscured as more tears fill your eyes, a few escaping to cascade downward.
And yet, with every ounce of control you possess, you hold still and accept.
A pleased growl passes Joel’s lips as he finally relents and lets you back off, coughing and gasping in air.
“Atta girl…” he rumbles.
Your chest heaves and more tears trail down your cheeks. Your blurred eyes lift back up to his face and, despite it all, you’re surprised by the thrill that darts through you at that tiny bit of praise.
But then his fingers are fisting into your hair again and he’s pushing your mouth back onto his cock.
“One more time, Darlin’,” he husks, “and then you gotta get me off.”
You whimper and frantically inhale again through your nose as he fills your mouth once more, your hands lifting to splay on his thighs. It takes conscious effort to just rest them there without pushing back.
He’s not nearly as patient this time, not only pulling your face down around his length but also flexing his hips to push into your throat faster. You gag again but somehow manage to get it under quick control as his cockhead invades your throat once more, cutting off an involuntary whimper. As he holds you in place this time, your head swims and your lungs burn, your fingers curl into fists against his legs, though you still don't push.
Instinct has you trying to swallow around him and he gives a loud groan.
“Fuuuck, Sweetheart…if your pussy is as wet and tight as your throat…you might be worth the trouble after all,” he grinds out.
You blink rapidly against the tears streaming from your eyes, startled by the heat that spears through your body at his vulgar words, despite the oxygen-deprived haze filling your head.
The next thing you know, you're coughing again, pulled off of his dick, desperately drawing in air. His fingers still hold cruelly tight to your hair as you try to catch your breath, though you’re somewhat glad for it, otherwise you might just collapse.
Joel leans down, his stiff cock bobbing heavily between his strong thighs, and reaches with his free hand to cup under your chin, saliva mixed with his precum dripping down it. He guilds your chin up to tilt your tear stained face his way, your lips parted as you pant for air.
“Hmmm…gotta admit, Darlin’, you look awful pretty…with those lips wrapped around my cock,” he softly growls between shallow breaths of his own, a smirk on his lips and a thumb roughly rubbing across your lower lip. “Sun’s almost down though…think you got it in you to make me cum?” he asks with a quirked brow.
You take a few more heaving breaths and then lick your lips, swallowing thickly with a slight wince. Despite the raw ache in your throat, you give him a coy smile and a nod. “Yes…” you rasp.
A cold grin crosses his face and he straightens up, stepping in closer again to let his cockhead bounce against your chin and lips. “Good girl. Show me what you can do.”
Blinking more of the haze out from your eyes, you reach up to wrap your fingers around his saliva slicked base again and guild him back into your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks once more, you suck firmly and quickly begin to bob your head in towards his hips, stroking along his shaft and over the head with your tongue. Your hand moves in time with your movements, fisting him so every inch of his impressive length is stimulated, lips meeting fingers, more saliva easing the glide of skin over skin.
When Joel’s hips begin rocking forward to push a little deeper, you chance a glance upward at the top of one long stroke.
He’s watching you over the curve of his broad, muscular chest, which heaves as he shallowly takes in air, plush lips barely parted. Meanwhile he’s still holding your head with one hand buried in your hair, but he doesn’t try to take control of your movements again.
Oh no, he’s definitely going to make you earn his protection.
You redouble your efforts. Stroking your mouth and hand over him faster. Sucking harder.
His stoic facade finally cracks as his eyes flutter and then close, a loud, drawn out groan escaping. Tilting his head back, his hips begin to rock a little faster to meet the rapid glide of your hand and mouth, his cock throbbing on your tongue. Both of his hands are buried in your hair now, lightly tangled in the locks. He's still not trying to control your movements though; it's still all you doing the work to bob your head and meet his thrusts. They seem more like insurance, in case you change your mind.
Not that you will. You've come too far for that.
When his movements finally start to stutter with soft grunts filling the quiet clearing, you draw him in deep once again. Ignoring the ache it causes, you urge him over the edge, your hand and mouth squeezing around him.
Strong fingers suddenly twist in your hair so tightly that stinging pain erupts across your scalp from the pull, at the same instant that Joel erupts into the warm cavity of your mouth.
Hot ropes of salty semen coat your tongue and the back of your mouth. He holds you there, his length pulsing, giving a couple more shallow thrusts and emptying himself into you with a deep moan that can only be described as obscene.
Then, he’s looking down at you, eyes impossibly dark, skin flushed, panting for breath. A languid smile tugs up one side of his lips as he cups your chin again and traces the side of your mouth with his thumb, where the tender skin is still stretched around his dick, even though it is starting to soften.
His voice is breathy now, but no less commanding.
“Swallow.”
You slowly and carefully inhale through your nose as you meet his intense gaze. Then you tighten your lips around his softening shaft and swallow down his spend, feeling it coat your throat as it disappears.
A pleased hum meets your ears and Joel’s rough thumb brushes across your cheek, wiping away a streak left by your tears. With a nod, he takes a half step back, letting his dick slip free of your mouth with a lewd wet sound, before he releases your face and your hair.
He gives an upward jerk of his chin as he tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his jeans. “Get up.”
Still breathing hard, you nod and push yourself to your feet, briefly stumbling. As you find your footing, your eyes widen for a split second at the distinct feeling of slickness gathered between your thighs, no doubt soaking your panties.
You had been so focused on getting him off, that you hadn’t even realized just how turned on you were by the unexpected situation.
It's been a while since that happened.
Pushing the realization aside, you swallow hard, and wince again from the rawness in your throat. Wiping drool from your chin and red, puffy lips, you focus on the man in front of you as he finishes buckling his belt.
If feels like it takes him forever as your heart keeps hammering in your chest, waiting to hear his verdict on your…performance.
Joel’s dark eyes lift back to you and linger (you can only imagine how debauched you look), as his thumbs hook into the pockets of his jeans, his head canting to the side. The corner of his mouth twitches into another faint smirk before he turns on the balls of his feet to take a few steps and scoop up his backpack, slinging it onto the shoulder that isn’t occupied by a rifle.
Your breath stutters, brows pinching together, as a ball of dread drops into the pit of your stomach. Watching him pick up a pack of cigarettes from a sleeping bag and pocket them, your entire body tenses as your mind begins reeling.
What had you done wrong?!
Joel pauses and looks back at you over his rifle shoulder, his voice gruff.
“You’ve got five minutes, Darlin’. Gather up whatever you need to bring along. We're heading out.”
51 notes · View notes
joelismiller · 2 years ago
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misunderstanding
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joel miller x fem!reader
Word Count: 5.0k
Summary: you liked joel and you really thought he liked you back.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (joel is in his fifties and reader is in her late twenties), angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), jealousy, protective!joel, violence if you squint, no use of y/n
A/N: hi everyone my name is ariel and this is my first post ! I have never written for joel before and i have never written smut so please go easy on me and enjoy ! <3 (oh also i completely made up the currency idk how that works😭)
It hurts, you think. 
Having an attachment to a man who has seemed to lose the ability to comprehend on an emotional level how to form one.
An exception of course made for one goofy teenager named Ellie Williams, which you can’t blame him for—she is an easy kid to love. 
You however still can’t help but feel a little envious of the fourteen-year-old even if it is a silly kind of jealousy. You just wish you could be close to him—know him like no one else does or has. 
It started 6 months ago: you had been living in Jackson for a whole year after braving the world overtaken by Cordyceps alone.
Tommy and a group of other people on patrol found you near the edge of town looking right about to just give up and keel over and allow fate to take over and decide if you should live or die from that point.
After making sure you were not infected, Tommy scooped you up and managed to get you back to town where Maria agreed to help nurse you back to health and eventually make you an official resident of Jackson. 
You were given a house close to Tommy and Maria’s and they gave you a job at the local clothing shop of sorts; really just a place to trade or purchase clothing, bootlaces, etc. You began to not just live, but enjoy living—a fate you never thought you would be able to see for yourself after the events of the last twenty years.
It was more or less a life of routine and monotony, but it was more of a life you had before which is what made it special. 
Then Joel Miller came in and ruined all of that.
 Six months ago he rode into town with his little brunette companion for a second time after briefly visiting a while before. He walked up to Tommy and gave him a firm hug while confirming your hope that he indeed would be making himself a permanent member of the Jackson community.
His house with Ellie was only a few blocks away which allowed for you to wake up a little early to see him leave on his way to patrol. 
Now the interaction that started your infatuation with the grumpy old man was nothing too special; at least probably to the man himself. However, to you, it made a very old and foreign feeling form in your gut.
Butterflies erupted just at the sight of Joel Miller’s beautiful brown eyes that, depending on the light, either shined a light honey-brown, or dark and rich, like the coffee beans you used to brew your coffee that morning.
His hair reflected his age—a fluffy mess of brown with graying streaks and a patchy beard to match.
And his broad shoulders and strong looking arms made it so you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up by him—consumed by him.  
He looked awkward, you think, as he stood inside your shop looking around wordlessly. You decided to step out from behind the counter where you were going over some previous numbers for inventory to help the handsome man get what he came for. 
“Hi there, can I help you look for anything specific?” you asked as you approached him slowly from across the room. 
“Hi, um, I was just lookin' for a thicker coat than the one I already have—‘just got my first pay from patrolling.” He muttered, continuing to search the many tables and walls littered with all sorts of clothing items.
 “Oh okay, for sure! If you just follow me they’re right over here.”
 You began to lead him to a rack near the register which had a small assortment of heavy winter jackets. You were constantly selling out of them since Jackson was always cold no matter the season which is why there wasn’t a lot to choose from. 
He took a look at the jackets and gave you a nod, “Thank you, um…” Joel trailed off as you breathlessly laughed and told him your name.
He repeated your name trying it out on his tongue; making you wish for nothing more than to hear him say it in his Southern drawl over and over and over-
“I’m Joel,” he stated simply and you gave him a smile and nod of your head, pretending like you hadn’t already done a bit of digging to find out the handsome newcomer’s name a couple months ago when he first visited. 
“Well Joel, if you need anything I'll be back behind the register.”
You pointed over to the table with a broken old register that worked just well enough to store the currency the town came up with so there was an extra curtain of civilization despite the events that were anything but that.
You thought it was kind of stupid, but it worked and made people happy so who were you to say otherwise? 
He nodded to let you know he heard you as you went back to your previous position: pretending the whole time you weren’t shamelessly ogling the rugged, big, Southern man mindlessly looking through the jackets.
He eventually settled on a nice tan one with flannel material on the inside lining with white fleece on the collar and cuffs.
You quickly looked back down to the inventory papers so you wouldn’t be caught staring when you heard his heavy footsteps approach the counter. 
“I’ll take this one,” he grunted as he began to gather up some coins to give you in exchange for the warm, heavy jacket.
You quickly pushed his hand away to alert him that it wasn’t necessary, “You're new here right Joel?” You asked as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow and shook his head in agreement.
 “Right, then consider it a welcoming gift—free of charge.” 
You gave him a bright smile as he furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head causing you to see the honey sparkle in his brown eyes under the bright store light. 
“Ya sure? Jacket doesn’t look cheap,” Joel muttered, his gaze flickering to his boots. 
“A hundred percent! You’re new and patrolling isn’t an easy job, accept it as a thank you for keeping us safe if anything,” you told him shyly, the smile never leaving your face. 
He chuckled softly and nodded his head. 
“Okay darlin’, well, thank you—much appreciated.” 
You whispered a soft ‘yeah’ as his eyes looked over you, causing a burning feeling to spread throughout your whole body as if you were being branded. He gave you one last nod of his head as he began to turn around and leave the store.
Not to your surprise, an empty feeling immediately filled you in the presence of his absence.
You whispered to yourself to pull yourself together—that you’ve only met him once and that his effect on you should not be this intense.
It didn’t help however as every interaction after that caused your feelings for the large stand-offish man to only grow. 
Whether it was a quick acknowledgement of each other when you happened to eat in the dining hall at the same time, or a wave of a hand when you left your houses at the same time in the morning as he headed to patrol and you headed to the store.
But your favorite interactions were when he would come into the store to maybe get a couple of new shirts for Ellie, or some new socks for himself.
Over time you felt him grow more comfortable around you as you did him. He would tell you about Ellie’s latest antics; swearing that the teen girl was trying to ‘send an old man to an early grave.’
You would giggle and tell him that he wasn’t that old and that Ellie was just a teen girl finally in a safe somewhat normal place where she can go to school and make actual friends. 
“About that, I think I might needa talk with her teacher soon—she’s been missin too much school and heading off god knows where,” Joel confessed to you, a frown overtaking his aged features as his worry about his adopted daughter showed clear all over his face.
You shyly grabbed his hand across the register and gave it a small squeeze.
“Try not to worry about her too much Joel. She’s young and she didn’t get to have a normal childhood—It's only normal that school probably doesn’t matter too much to her after everything,” you explained hoping that your words may ease him a bit. 
He didn’t respond right away, instead looking at where your much softer hand overlapped his bigger, calloused ones. An unreadable look came over his face before he gently took his hand away from yours and looked to the ground. 
“Yeah you’re probably right,” he responded in that low tone of his as he slowly began to back up. 
“I gotta go check and see if she made it home okay. It was nice seein ya.” 
You barely were able to say another word, maybe apologize for touching his hand in such a careless way before his heavy boots were already heading out the door; the little bell ringing a hollow sound in your ears.
After that, you began to see less and less of Joel and it hurt to admit that it slowly felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
You hated yourself for thinking that all your interactions meant something to him; that when he started to come to the store, not even leaving with anything but a conversation with you, that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you felt for him.
Every time you even attempted waving at him in the morning when you both left—he just grunted and looked the other way—pretending like you weren’t even there. 
The store was for some reason busier than usual today and you closed up feeling drained and ready to sleep. The long shift accompanied by the hollow feeling in your heart Joel had left caused you to want nothing more than to curl up and forget all the pain in nicer dreams where things were better between you, things were different.
Joel would hold your hand in your dream and walk you to work, leaving a kiss on your cheek and a whisper of having a good day as you giggled and kissed him right back—whispering the same sentiments. 
You were shaken out of your daydream on your walk home when you spotted the very man at the center of all your thoughts on the porch of someone's house, a woman’s house.
She was gorgeous with long, blonde hair framing her face perfectly, while she looked up at Joel with gorgeous, crystal, blue eyes. She looked older than you too, maybe even closer to Joel’s age.
They laughed about something before she was leading him inside her house as he followed suit; the door shutting in a finality behind them. 
You felt a mix of jealousy and an even greater sadness than before filling your belly as you continued what felt like the longest walk home in your life.
As soon as the door closed you slid down the old wood as tears and sobs that you couldn’t stop wracked your body.
You just didn’t understand; what changed, what did you do to make him start avoiding you?
And you knew how hard it was for Joel to come out of his shell, so why did it seem so easy for him to talk and laugh with that woman? 
After what seemed like hours, you finally picked yourself off of the ground and trudged slowly to your bed where you collapsed immediately upon impact with the old tattered sheets.
Instead of the usual happy dreams about Joel, tonight you were plagued with endless nightmares of him and the mysterious blonde woman; standing in the place you usually would in your dreams about Joel.
You woke up in the morning with a feeling of restlessness as you readied yourself for another long day of work.
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After work that night you decided to go to the Tipsy Bison which was Jackson’s bar that you would usually frequent when your nightmares from the time you were on your own came back to haunt you.
Mindless images of a group of clicker’s taking from you the only person you had left in your life since the virus took over: your best friend.
After she was gone it was just you, and that period never seemed to completely leave your mind even after a year in Jackson. 
After last night’s sleep, you definitely needed a drink you thought to yourself as you made your way over. When you entered you saw that it was a pretty busy night for the Tipsy Bison as you did your best to find a seat towards the end of the bar. 
Once you took a seat, you gave the bartender your drink order and surveyed the area to see who else was here as you waited for him to deliver your alcohol of choice. Your breathing stopped and your eyes widened when you noticed a familiar group of people at a table closer to the front of the bar. 
There in all his ruggish, handsome glory was Joel Miller, smiling widely as he talked with Tommy, Maria, and her.
You quickly swung back around to face where your drink was just set in front of you as you begged the burn in the back of your eyes to go away.
Fuck this, you thought as you downed most of the drink in one go, using your hand to wipe away the bit that escaped at the corner of your lips.
You did your best to ignore the person that was at the center of all your sadness; drinking and drinking until you felt a familiar buzz kick in and begin to cloud your thoughts. 
Right when you were about to order another drink, a skinny, tall, blonde boy walked over to where you were seated and said it was on him as he handed over a couple of coins. 
“You didn’t have to do that but thanks, I guess,” you muttered, hoping your disinterest was a sign that you wanted to be left alone.
He smiled wide in a way that caused you to shiver, and not in a pleasurable way like when Joel would grace you with the corner of his lip twitching up, releasing a breathless laugh; but in a bad, unnerving way. 
“Anything for a girl as pretty as you.” 
He winked which caused you to roll your eyes and once again look away from him. “I’m not interested but again, thank you,” you told him with a finality in your voice that the man—no—boy, didn’t take very seriously. 
“Aw come on don’t be like that I just wanna have some fun with you,” he said in a sleazy manner as he reached out to grip your shoulder. 
You quickly shook him off but in your drunken haze, you accidentally fell off your chair onto the ground—single-handedly causing the whole bar’s eyes to turn onto you. 
“Godammit, now you're just causing a fucking scene,” the man snarled at you, causing tears to form behind your eyes as this man's actions as well as having the entire bar watching the now-forming scene. 
And if the night couldn’t get any worse, you hear the familiar sound of boots coming up behind the man and it takes just one glance to confirm your suspicions. 
“What did you just say to her?” 
You heard a deep voice growl out, a look of pure rage overtaking Joel’s features as he stood right in front of the blonde boy’s face. 
“Look man I didn’t know she was taken, I was just tryna have a good time, you know?” 
An animalistic sound leaves Joel’s mouth before he takes the boy’s arm and forcefully grabs it until he's facing the bar counter and his arm is pressed deep into his back. 
“It don’t matter whether she’s taken or not, you never treat a woman like that,” he snarls into the shaking boy’s ear. 
“I never wanna see you come near her again, you hear me?” 
He shakes his head wildly until Joel finally releases him and he scatters out of the bar. The anger on Joel’s face morphs into one of concern as he gently stretches out a hand to help you up. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” He questions softly as you bat his hand away and attempt to stand on your own. 
“M’ fine,” you mutter as you stand on shaky legs—about to fall over when Joel rests his big hands on your shoulders to steady you. He chuckles and curls an arm around your waist as he begins to slowly lead you out the door. 
“You sure darlin’? Cause’ you seem a lil drunk to me,” Joel says amused at your hindered state while you frown up at him. 
“Don’t you have to go back to your girlfriend,” you huff out, avoiding looking at the grumpy man’s features. 
“Girlfriend?” He responds confused, not understanding what you were talking about until he catches your eyes drifting to Veronica’s face—Ellie’s teacher. 
After the day he left abruptly from your store, he sought out Ellie’s teacher Veronica. They have been having weekly meetings about how Ellie was doing in school as well as her continuous efforts to ditch class.
There was absolutely nothing romantic about it, the whole ordeal gave him a headache—a subject he was too old to be stressing about.
Besides, how could he dare think about anyone else when you had him wrapped around your little finger? 
When he first saw you at your clothing store and you gave him his jacket for free, he knew you would be trouble.
And trouble you were as he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to visit you just to see you and hear your comforting voice promise him that all his worries about his adopted daughter were normal.
It was actually your idea that maybe he should at some point meet with Ellie’s teacher. But when your small hand wrapped around his he got scared— scared this could become something real.
Everyone he has ever gotten attached to he’s lost and he already accidentally went and got attached to Ellie, he didn't know if he had it in him to do it to another person. 
And on top of that, he was a bad man, he had done horrible things. You were also so much younger and prettier than him—a sweet, soft thing Joel didn’t feel he deserved.
But looking at your heartbroken face now as you looked back at him and then at Veronica, he knew he messed up. He should have never started avoiding you.
It was never the answer, but Joel had never been good at feelings, this much is evident. 
“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.”
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The walk back from the Tipsy Bison to your house was a pretty close one, your hose only being about five minutes away.
Once you were at your door with a Joel who did not take “leave me alone” as an answer, you struggled to get the key in the lock in your drunken stupor which the large man beside you thankfully helped with. 
“Let me do that, sweetheart,” he muttered as his big warm hands covered yours and twisted the key, letting the both of you inside. 
“Joel, I don't feel so good…” you said shakily as Joel uttered a “shit” and quickly hurried you to the bathroom which he found pretty quickly—his hands quickly opening the toilet seat and finding purchase in your hair as he held it back, allowing you to empty the contents of your stomach. 
“Joel I’m so sorry,” you groaned as a tear fell down your cheek; your sadness, tiredness, and embarrassment flooded in all at once with help from the lingering alcohol in your system.
He shushed you softly and cradled you to his chest taking a second to rock you until your tears stopped and you felt well enough to stand. 
“How bout’ you brush your teeth and get your pajamas on—I’ll make you some tea then we’ll talk, yeah?” 
You nodded as he gently brushed your cheek with his thumb causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach as he made his way to your kitchen to attempt to find the ingredients and mug he needed.
You cleaned yourself up: showered, brushed your teeth, and put on sleepwear which helped you come back to a clearer state of mind allowing confusion to overtake you. 
Why was Joel here taking care of you, wouldn’t his girlfriend begin to ask questions? 
You weren’t allowed to keep worrying yourself with your thoughts as a knock on your bedroom door brought you back to reality. 
“May I come in? Made ya tea,” Joel’s voice rang out into your room softly as you muttered a quiet, “Sure.” 
Joel stepped into the room and handed you the mug which you took a generous sip of—the honeyed flavor soothing your throat and stomach. 
“Thank you so much, Joel, for walking me home and taking care of me. I’m so sorry-” 
“Don’t go apologizing darlin’ you have done nothin’ to have to apologize for,” Joel interrupted sending you a soft smile as he went to pick up your hand laying on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the smooth skin.
In a reversal of roles, it was your turn to pull your hand away as Joel frowned and you looked to the floor; he should have expected that after everything that’s happened. 
“I guess I deserve that,” he chuckles sadly as your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 
“Well you have a girlfriend and I bet it would make her uncomfortable if she knew you were holding my hand, Joel.” 
Joel couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped him at your words which completely stopped when he saw your features form into one of anger. 
“Why is that so funny? That’s why you stopped visiting and talking to me right? Because you found someone else.” 
You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitterly or as venomously as you said it but you couldn’t help it. You have spent weeks suffering over his actions towards you and now he helps you home, takes care of you, holds your hand like nothing happened? 
“M’ sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was laughing at you. It’s just that…” He trails off collecting himself. Joel sighs out your name and begins to tell you that Veronica is not his girlfriend and that she was just Ellie’s teacher.
He explains to you all about their meetings and that tonight was just him getting her a drink to thank her for all her help. 
“I promise you darlin’ it wasn’t anythin’ more than that—don’t feel that way about her at all.” 
You process all the information Joel just unloaded on you; and though you do feel relief, you still feel irritation and sadness as his complete throwing away of your friendship—abandoning you without a word. You tell him as much as he releases another sigh and looks down toward the wooden floor. 
“Look, m’ not really good at this…” Joel starts, eyes flickering up to your face as he continues. 
“But coming into the shop and talkin’ to you started becoming the best parts of my day, sweetheart,” he pauses to give you a look of sincerity and to try holding your hand again—and this time— you let him.
“And I was just downright a coward and instead of facing my feelings I shut you out completely and I feel so fucking awful darlin’ I’m so sorry.” He whispers, tightening his grip on your hand.  
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I'm hoping you can forgive me and that maybe we can try to be somethin. I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it and I’m so much older than you, but-” 
You cut Joel’s rambling off by pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. You begin to pull away when you don’t feel him kissing back, but he doesn’t give you a chance as he cups your head in a big hand and begins to kiss back with more fervor. 
“Joel,” you whimper as he begins to lay you back on your bed, his tongue licking the seam of your bottom lip asking for entrance into your soft, warm mouth—which you immediately allow. 
“Shhh, darlin’ will you lemme take care of ya? Wanna make you feel so good baby, make up for how bad I've been actin’.” 
You let out a moan when you feel the rough denim of his jeans buck up into your soft sleep shorts making contact with your clothed cunt. 
“Please Joel, need you so bad,” you whine as he starts to place kisses from your jaw down to your neck—slightly nipping and leaving a trail of small red spots in their wake, which he soothes with his tongue causing a high pitched whimper to leave your lips; beads of frustration beginning to gather at the corner of your lashes. 
“I got you sweetheart, I’m right here, can I take this off?” Joel questions as he lifts the hem of your tank top.
You nodded quickly as he borderline rips it over your head, quickly latching a mouth onto one of your nipples as he massages the neglected one with his hand. 
“Ohmygod-” you cry as he expertly flicks the bud with his tongue, soon moving over to the other nipple to give it the same treatment.
Arousal pools in your gut as Joel groans, beginning to leave kisses from your sternum, down to the soft skin of your belly, and right to the hem of your sleep shorts.
He leaves a soft kiss there and looks up to you to ask for permission to take them off. You nod vigorously but he shakes his head and leans down more to press a kiss to your clothed core, emitting a loud gasp from your mouth. 
“I need words darlin',” he states, glancing back up to you as you vocalize your permission. Joel wastes no time in taking your shorts down in one quick motion once you say yes—leaving you in your white lacy panties.
He runs a finger over the damp spot in your panties and then brings his arched nose close to the spot to breathe you in as well as to lick your folds through the cotton, his nose perfectly bumping your clit in this position causing you to squirm and moan his name. 
“Joel please,” you begged as he pulled away and began to run soothing circles into the soft skin of your thighs. 
“Please what baby, tell me what you need,” he demands as you try to buck your hips up to his mouth, but he won't let you, strong hands keeping you in place. 
“Your tongue Joel I need your tongue,” you whimper but he shakes his head. 
“Where do you need my tongue, baby? Gotta tell me if you wanna cum, sweet girl.” 
You whine in embarrassment and look down to see Joel Miller with the smuggest smirk you have ever seen. 
“I need your tongue on my pussy Joel, please take off my panties and use your tongue,” you beg as he chuckles and gently removes the white lace—quickly stuffing it in his back pocket before you can see. 
“Good girl baby, that s’all I needed,” he murmurs as his tongue comes into contact with the bare skin of your folds causing you to gasp his name and grab his salt and pepper hair to hold him against your cunt.
 “Oh my god Joel that feels so good!” You cry as his tongue moves from licking solid stripes against your folds to suckling gently on your clit, as your legs threaten to squeeze around his head. 
“Fucking Christ sweetheart, you taste so good, can’t get enough of you,” he groans as he continues to lick into you—the coil in your tummy beginning to tighten but you need more to get you to your high. 
“Mmm your fingers Joel, please I need your fingers,” you groan, causing Joel to growl against your pussy, the vibrations only heightening your pleasure. 
“Okay baby, think you can take two, huh?” he murmurs as he presses several small kisses to the inside of your thigh.
You whimper a small “yes” as he gathers your slick on his middle and ring finger—the burn you feel from the sheer girth of his fingers stretching you open fades into a dull bliss. 
“J-Joel I’m close,” you alert him as you buck into his face and fuck yourself on his fingers. 
“Yeah, baby? C’mon then cum for me sweetheart, let go,” Joel coos gently and that’s all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—a stream of your slick gushing out all over his face and onto the scruff of his beard. 
He continues to lick you through it until you're shuttering and mewling from the overstimulation. He pulls away with a large grin on his face as he reaches down to kiss you passionately, the sweetness of your fluids on his tongue making the kiss that much sweeter.
He wiped the rest of you off of his beard before giving you small pecks all over your face until you were giggling and he was chuckling. 
“I am sorry y’know,” he whispered in that silky smooth voice of his. You cupped his cheek with your hand, rubbing circles into the scratchy skin. 
“I know.” 
Joel got up to get a wet cloth to clean you up. He then took his time putting your sleepwear back on—leaving gentle kisses and massaging every inch of your body he could see.
He ended up spending the night as you curled into his strong arms as he stroked your hair until he felt your breathing even out as slumber took over you. 
He stayed up and watched you for a while until he soon fell victim to sleep; the thought of him finally being able to be completely happy despite everything was a comfortable thought, and it was all because of you. 
940 notes · View notes
zialltops · 2 years ago
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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s
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Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 4.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak
After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.
Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.
a/n: phew this chapter was hard to write because all i want it for them to kiss already. these two are so at each others throats that i cant WAIT to write that in the form of the devils tango. please let me know what you guys think, comments fuel my desire to write🤍
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Masterlink
AO3 Link 🤍
Chapter 2: Northern Attitude
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Three days of bad weather pass before Joel is able to get the truck out of the snow to drag your car out of the embankment—but he chooses not to anyway. He’s spent the last three days working and avoiding you, because he can’t keep his head from spouting off about how much you piss him off and how good you look doing it.
And piss him off, you do. The morning after your first night home, Joel was shoveling off the steps and the front driveway when you came out of the house in a pair of pants that look like they have been in your closet for years because god damn, they are tight. He doesn’t miss the look on your face when you find your way into the snow where he’s working. “Like my stupid fucking shoes? I wore them so I’d look nice when I saw my parents—thought there was some delicious cowboy here to impress. But now they are all I have to wear because some bullheaded asshole left my car on the side of the road with all of my belongings in it.”
Him, being the bullheaded asshole instead of the delicious cowboy. He’s fuming, if he wasn’t already panting, he’s sure there would be steam rolling out of his ears right about now. He can't stand you. Cant stand your cocky attitude and the way you hold your hands on your hip’s—those sexy little fucking—Joel! “Should have known better than to show up in the middle of winter in those damn heels. You did that to yourself. You should know the only thing you’re findin’ here is cow shit and snow.” You cross your arms and look over his shoulder. “Yeah—nothing but bullshit here.” He turns to find Tommy, his eyes on your figure in your stupidly tight outfit, he’d always been the bolder of the two. “Nice shoes…y’know, they do seem practical, you’re a few inches above the cold, y’know? Don’t ya think, Joel?” You smile at him and Joel sees red, that trading asshole. “Y’know, I was still gonna pull you out, bullheaded asshole here was the one who insisted we leave you.”
If Joel was a better man, he’d tell his brother to fuck off—but he’s not, so he socks him in the mouth and gives him a nasty bruise and a split lip. Both of you hightail it away from the driveway and Joel gets back to his shoveling.
Since that day, it’s been a non-stop onslaught of demeaning remarks. You sneer at him when you pass him in the halls, so he sticks to the hunting cabin he and Tommy occupy for a whole day. When he comes in for supper, you sneer at him again. “What, do you just hide out all day, doing jack shit?” He started this, he knows that, and there isn’t much he can do since he left you for dead on the side of the road a few days ago. He huffs at you when he sits down across from you while everyone else gets their plates in the kitchen. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and an aggravated shout. “I’ve been taking care of the cattle, what the hell have you been doing all day, huh? With that big fancy degree? Hid in the house all day and do your nails?” The nails in question are a sharp blue color, a homage to the crisp skies as the sun sets amongst the gloomy clouds, radiating dark indigo across the plains. His stomach curls when his brain supplies the image of them wrapped around his cock—both your little hands, manicured and soft and—son of a—“Actually, I think I forgot to check the fences. Miss Lou, do you mind if I pack this up to go?” He did forget, and he should do that, but it could have waited another day. He really needs a reason to get away from your accusing eyes right now, away from the way you unwillingly make him feel ridged all over.
He checks all the fences on the half mile walk to the hunting cabin, eats his supper at the sad little table and tries (he fucking tries, okay?) to keep his hands off himself. It aches, aches when he gets hard, like a damn weight between his legs that makes him feel dizzy from lack of blood in his poor muddled brain. He gets crazy—can't stand the thought of another person having so much control over his senses that he can't control his own bodily functions. He hates that you’ve weaseled your way in to his weaknesses—pretty eyes, smarter than him, hard to get with an attitude. It pisses him off so bad that his body reacts before his mind can gain clarity enough to tell himself no. But how can he, when all he can think about is what this is doing to him.
He cant stop thinking about how much of a bitch you are, about the type of men you probably pulled while off in collage and how you expected some kind of Adonis and what you got was just Joel. Your disappointment in his mere existence does nothing to flag how hard he is when he finally gets his hands in his pants. It should be alarming how fast he’s got himself on the edge on the image of you glaring him down, blackmailing him just so he can be your own personal verbal punching bag.
What the fuck is wrong with him, that being treated like garbage gets him so worked up. Is it because he knows it's something he'll never have? Like nothing else in the world can, you’ve got him hot and stiff in his large hand, after three days of knowing you, his head tipped back against his pillow and his eternal gratefulness that Tommy is still eating supper at the main house. At least he wont have to witness the way Joel’s resolve goes down the drain when he thinks about those pretty eyes, those nimble fingers and that bratty little attitude. He cums when he thinks about your stupid fucking shoes and how angry you are at him that you’re stuck wearing them.
Tomorrow, he’ll tell you he still cant get your car out, even if all the fucking snow melts, just so he can watch you walk around in them for a little longer, so he can hate you a little bit more. Maybe his distaste will bleed out the want, but Joel has never been that lucky.
———
It’s damn late by the time Tommy makes it home—or maybe it’s not, but Joel's guilty hand found the neck of a bottle a few moments after washing it clean, so he’s completely lost track of time. Drowning his troubles was the best thing he could come up with, so he tipped the bottle back until it was empty and his head felt like it was in a fish bowl.
The door throws open when he’s leaned all the way back in a chair at the little dining table, his bottle sitting empty in front of him and his mind reeling. “Close the damn door, it’s freezing!” He doesn’t open his eyes, because he’s got the spins and the last thing he wants to do right now is throw up.
“Aint me.” He hears Tommy’s voice somewhere in the living room and he finally peeks an eye open and glances towards the door.
“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” It’s you, standing in the doorway and letting in all the cold residing outside of these walls. Joel attempts to lean forward, but his weight wobbles and the chair falls backwards on the hardwood. “This is why this ranch doesn’t make any profit. You spend your days drunk off your ass, don’t you?” Her tone is so accusing and snappy, if Joel had half a mind he would pull himself off this floor and give her a piece of it.
“S’the end of the day, I’m not workin’, ‘n I can do whatever I want.” He pulls himself up using the table and he stand there for a moment, trying to let his head catch up with the rest of his body. “I came down here to tell you I want my car out tomorrow morning first thing. But, by the looks of it you wont be good for a damn thing in the morning.”
He groans and walks over to the door on wobbly legs, his vision is blurry but the drunk part of his brain supplies that you walked all the way here with Tommy just to bark orders at him. So, Tommy is definitely a fucking traitor, getting cozy with you when he knows how irritating Joel finds you to be. Even if you look damn good with those wind bitten red cheeks that would look so good hallowed out around his—c’mon, Joel. “I’ll be up before you, smartass. I have livestock to feed, ‘sides, I told you I'd pull it out when I could. Snow’s still too thick.” Joel uses the door frame to hold him up while you look him over from the porch. “I wasn’t asking you to pull it out, Im telling you.” Telling him? Like he’s not his own goddamned person, who makes decisions around here of his own? Hank asked him over a year ago to manage the ranch on his own—he’s been the one calling the shots here for some time, so what gives you the right to stand on his porch and tell him what he’s going to do?
“You might be the all reining princess in their eyes, but do not push me, Honey. I’m not the one to fuck with,” your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest like that might somehow make him second guess his boldness. You take a few steps closer and puff your chest out, point your nose up at him with a hard glare. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Not a damn thing.” Actually, one thing does come to mind and it takes everything in Joels power not to grab you by your hair and bend you over the back of the couch, show you exactly what he’s going to do about it.
Instead, he stands there in the frigid air, looking down at you like a pissed off little mouse staring down an alley cat, so fucking brave that he questions if he’s an alley cat at all. “When you can run this ranch by yourself, then you can look down your nose at me, but until then, you’re going to need some taller stupid fucking shoes.” He wouldn’t have the balls to say these things to you if not for the whiskey burning through his veins. Actually, he’s been pretty weary of telling you off, because the last thing he needs is you telling your parents, who obviously would believe you over him. But right now? Fresh off half a bottle and a mind numbing orgasm? He has all the courage in the world.
“I want my car out. I want my things and my clothes. You have until tomorrow night, or my parents can find new ranch hands.” He scoffs and his anxiety only bubbles up a little bit—he’ll pay for it tomorrow, but right now he’s pissed. “Well you better hurry back there and get on it. I’ll tell ya what—I’ll even help you hang up the flyers, hows that sound?” Your face is beat red in an attempt to contain your anger, your eyebrows are drawn together in the kind of pout that makes Joel chub up in his sleep pants. He’d rather sleep out in the snow than to have you see the way your attempt at aggravation works him up, so he starts to close the door on himself. “Better get to it, unless you want to be the one up at four thirty to feed.” He closes the door, turns his body and lets himself slump against the wood. His palm finds the front of his pants and he pushes, attempting to quell the sudden rush of blood that makes his head spin more than the alcohol in his system. “Damn…she’s gettin’ to you, huh?”
It’s Tommy’s obnoxious fucking voice in his head, standing near the hallway to the two small bedrooms. “Fuck off, Tommy, you know how it is for me.” The younger man laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm just sayin’, it’s kind of funny. Nobody gets under your skin like that. Does fightin’ really do it for you?” His voice is dripping with amusement and Joel wants to punch him again. “It ain’t the fightin’.” Tommy rolls his eyes when Joel reaches into his pants to adjust the discomfort. “Oh, thats right. Your shitty attitude comes sometime after she gets your big ol’—“ Joel growls at him, ”Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to drag you out in the snow and beat your ass.”
It does the trick, because Tommy knows Joel isn’t kidding, he’s always been the stronger of the two, the one who’s always put Tommy in his place and he’s never been afraid to sock him square in his mouth when he runs it like he is now. “You know it bothers me when I can't control it. I can’t hide it. And she just—she—she’s one of them girls you know? The one’s that you don’t stand a chance with but they rub it in your face anyways and I can’t fucking stand it. It’s embarrassin’.”
He leans away from the door and makes his way over to the couch. When he plops down, his head finds his hands and he drags his calloused fingers through his curly, wind whipped locks. “What if you did stand a chance? Been a really long time since you’ve let yourself have anything.” Tommy finds the seat beside him and their heated argument shifts into a tender conversation, one brother to another, one man to his best friend in the whole world. “Ain’t about what I can have, tom, she’s Hanks daughter and I’m double her age, at least. This,” he gestures to himself vaguely. “This is the last thing a girl like her wants to get themselves tied up in. Can’t—one and done it like you can. Takes some…workin’ up to.”
Tommy pushes his shoulder with a small snort. “Always wondered how you got that thing in anyone.” He hasn’t wondered—he’s asked for years, and Joel being the closed off man he is, never had the heart to spill his bed-mates secrets. But there hasn’t been anyone for years, certainly not someone like you who can get him going faster than anyone he’s ever met. “Just—lots of…stretching. Things I can't do during a tumble in the hay, alright? And not everyone wants to deal with that—fuck know’s I don’t.”
Deal with the rejection of someone seeing him naked and kindly (or not so kindly) telling him that they aren’t interested anymore, deal with the look of shock women give him when he’s pressed up against them—when they feel it. He’s tired of it—so he doesn’t try anymore. Having you at his doorstep, flooring that desire in him? He can't deal with that. “I always thought it would be kind of an appeal to women, don’t they like that? I mean, I didn’t get your genes but I’m not doin’ too bad, they seem to like it.” Not doing too bad? To be normal, lead a normal life where he doesn’t have to bring anxieties to a moment he should only bring pleasure? “It ain’t all puppies and rainbows, man…nine times out of ten were good and they’re into it until I get my pants off. Then they hightail it out of there before I even have a chance to explain myself.”
It’s an embarrassing conversation to have with your brother, but Joel is grateful that he at least has someone he can talk about this with, above all else. The years he’s struggled, the supposed highs that only led to disappointment. It's been one minuscule moment of rejection after another, and he’s not asking for a lot, just to feel what everyone else gets to feel—normal, wanted, less like a freak and more like something to be desired. All for something he can’t change about himself, because believe him he wants to.
“I’m sorry man…I can’t relate, but I know how hard it is for you. One day, some crazy bitch is going to love your…terrifying dick.” He snorts loudly and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “Today ain’t the day, but thanks, Tom…” his head is still spinning and if he doesn’t go to bed soon, he won't make it out to feed before the sun hits the horizon. Tommy heads to his room, but Joel finds a blanket and curls up on the couch with a trash can at his side—just incase he needs to throw up before morning comes and he sobers up.
———
He does make it out to feed. It takes him an hour to get a hundred and fifty heads of cattle fed—he can’t wait till spring when they can be turned out to pasture, when half of them are sold off and the breeding season restarts. The cold, stand still winters drive him crazy on every ranch he’s ever worked, but this one more than most, because the cold is bone deep and there's you now, to drive him crazy in every possible direction.
When he’s done with the cattle, he takes inventory of the feed room, make’s a list to take with himself to town when the roads are cleared, then makes his way over to the stable. If there is one thing he can find solitude in, it’s snorting, fussing, grouchy ass horses early in the morning. They’ll kick at the stalls until he’s filled their feeders, snort cold air at him like they don’t want his company—he finds a lot of himself in the equine’s, misunderstood unless you get to know them like he has. He finds that his favorite place to be is in a saddle, pushing cattle through spring summer and fall, just him and them and all the trust in each other they have to offer.
Once they are fed, he finds his tack bucket and pulls open the stall to a young mare they’d bought last summer. She was ready to break this spring, but Hank had all but given up on the Morgan. So much so that he’d handed Joel her bridle one morning and told him “if you can get through to her, she’s all yours, son.”
She wasn’t a big horse, compared to others over her breed, but she had an untamable mane and tail that Joel has to keep braided or it becomes a rat's nest. She’s all over the place, spooky with a fear of water that Joel can't seem to help her get over. For such a pretty little Palomino, she sure has a lot of fight in her.
“Hey, pissy girl.” He hums when she flicks her tail at him, pulling her head out of her feeder just long enough to look back at him. He’s been the only person she lets in the stall since they got her, the only person who can give her a good brush down and stand behind her without getting a hoof to the chest. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? I had stuff to do before I could bring you guys breakfast. Besides, you’re gettin’ fat.” He pats her on her flank, watches dust come up under his hand. He starts brushing her down when he hears the stable doors come open. He knows it's not Tommy, because he’s in the north field checking on the heifers who are getting ready to calf. They still have a few more weeks, but it's good to keep track in the middle of the kind of storms they’ve been getting. The last thing they need is losing a calf to this kind of cold.
“Joel? You in here?” It’s Hanks booming voice in the desolate stable. “Yeah, I’m in here Hank!” He sets down the brush and steps out of the stall because he knows Hank won't come in it. “I was tryin’ to find you before my daughter did. She been through here yet?” His stomach drops and curls—did she tell him? About the argument they had on his porch last night? That he was drunk off his ass drowning his emotions like he always has? “I don’t know what she might have…told you, but it was at home—the cows were good, animals fed, I wasn’t—“ Hank makes a face and shakes his head. “Son, I ain’t mad at you for nothin’. I told her you’re allowed to have a few drinks when you’re done with your work. She can be very…aggravating, if anyone knows that it's me. I just wanted to apologize before she comes in a raging ball of fire because shes embarrassed about her shoes.”
Embarrassed? She’s embarrassed about walking around in those boots that make her ass look like it was sculpted by gods? Those damn shoes that can get him hard in an instant? “She’s embarrassed about them?”
Hank cracks a soft smile and puts his hands on his hips. “Most of that fire comes from a hurt place. She's all bark and no bite—“ Joel scoffs. “She just about bit my head off last night. I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.” Hank has always been understanding and kind the entire time Joel has known him. “I know, we talked about it. She said I need new ranch hands and I told her I don’t trust anyone to run this ranch but you. Don’t worry, I won't let her run you off. I really thought college would set her straight, but she’s still got that stubborn attitude of hers. Just—keep yourself busy and she’ll give up eventually. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself, either. I’m not going to get mad at you for standing up to her.”
Its more of a relief than he thought it would be to hear Hank stick up for him. You must have ran home to tattle on him, but knowing Hank has his back eases the anxiousness built up in him from the night before. “Anyways…when you see her, maybe Tommy can take her to get her things until we can get her car out, so she can get off of everyones back.” It’s going to have to be Tommy—there's no way in hell Joel can handle being in a car with her by himself with his current situation. “Absolutely, thank you Hank.” The man heads out the door with a genuine smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast! Louise made fresh jam.”
Breakfast sounds like a dream to his empty stomach, so he gets back to the task at hand so he can spare himself a few minutes of downtime to eat before he gets back to work. He steps back into the stall, runs his hand across the top of his horse's back and sighs. “Maybe I should cut her some slack, huh Cersei? You’re kind of a bitch, but you’re still my favorite girl.” The horse nickers at him, flicks her tail and waits patiently for him to get back to brushing out her winter coat.
———
It’s breakfast when he finally sets eyes on you again, but you aren’t in those damn shoes—you’re barefoot like that's somehow any better. You’re barefoot in what looks like an old pair of your pajamas, like you just rolled out of bed when it’s already eight in the morning. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You sneer at him a little when he sits down across from you with his plate. Tommy hasn’t made it inside yet and Hank and Louise are in the living-room after they’ve already finished eating.
“I’ve been up for hours, what were you doing? Cant learn to manage a ranch if you sleep until eight in the morning.” Joel feels like he has the upper hand, and based on the look on your face, you know it too. “That’s what I have you for, to do all the grunt shit I don’t want to. I slept like a baby.” Joel on the other hand tossed and turned all night, willing away his morning wood for hours until he finally gave in and wrapped his hand around himself in the dark of his room under his soft quilt, where your prying eyes couldn’t reach.
It’s the only damn thing keeping him from chubbing up in his jeans, looking at you across the table in a pair of sleep shorts that ride up and leave little to his imagination. He thinks about how easy it would be to pull them aside and slip his fingers through your lips—if he would be able to get you wet. It’s enough to get him excited, so he tries to find a way out before it becomes too big of a problem.
“Where are you going?” He looks down at his plate, devising a plan to leave with it, so he can at least finish his breakfast. “Uhm…I have a lot to do today, figured I would get back to it while the day is young.” You push your chair back and stand as well, Joel’s eyes must have a mind of their own because they track up your bare thighs to the bottom of your shorts that have ridden up so much the fabric is pulled tight along the outline of your center—goddamn he can fucking see your pussy. He makes a sharp sound, choking on the spit building up in his mouth as it waters.
“You aren’t doing anything until you get my car out, you hear me? I’m not walking around another second like this.” You gesture to yourself—Joel couldn’t agree more. You need to wear clothes that fit you if he wants to keep his dick to himself. “Tommy is going to take you, he’ll be in soon.” You shake your head at him with a huff. “No, I don’t want Tommy taking me, he’s not the one responsible for leaving my car in the snow. You are getting my car out.”
He wants to argue some more, but arguing with you makes him horny and the last thing he needs is to be that worked up in a car with you for an extended period of time.
“Fuck—alright, fine—give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you at the truck.”
It’s a shit ass excuse to run back to the cabin and spend ten minutes jacking off as fast as he can fucking manage so he can control himself in the truck. It’s a futile attempt to control the way Hanks spitfire of a daughter makes him hotter than the surface of the sun.
You are going to be the death of him.
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gmax-centiskorch · 2 years ago
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Mainline Pokémon Games Based on How Buggy They Are: A Thread
Red, Blue, & Yellow
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Pretty buggy. The Butterfree line set the stage for regional bugs and emotional trauma. Everybody loves Scyther. Inspired use of Cordyceps when designing the Parasect line. Kabuto and Kabutops should have been Bug to honor trilobites for founding Arthropoda. 8/10.
Gold, Silver, & Crystal
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Yes, we had Scyther, but what about second Scyther? Scizor, Heracross, and Shuckle are legends. Game Freak decided to invite arachnids (Spinarak and Ariados) to the party, truly redefining what it means to be buggy. 9/10.
Ruby, Sapphire, & Emerald
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This generation is loaded with bugs! Game Freak realized their mistake in not giving the Kabutops line Bug typing, making up for it with Anorith and Armaldo (who are based on Anomalocaris). They fumble the recovery, however, in not only depriving the Flygon line of Bug typing, but forever making them second fiddle to the Salamence line. The Beautifly, Dustox, and Ninjask lines introduce some interesting approaches to Bug-type evolution. Volbeat and Illumise are there. 7.8/10.
Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum
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DELELELELELEWHOOOOOOP! A smaller collection of bugs this gen, but a well-rounded one. Vespiquen slays. Scorpions get some love via Skorupi, Drapion, and Gliscor. Writing this post is making me realize that slugs, snails, and nudibranchs like the Magcargo and Gastrodon lines aren’t bugs. We grew up thinking snails were bugs, right? Anyway, Yanmega rules. 8/10.
Black, White, Black 2, White 2
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Game Freak’s magna opera. Truly the buggiest games there are. While you have to wait until Pinwheel Forest to encounter your first bugs, you’re rewarded upon arrival with Sewaddle and Venipede, the larvae of the Leavanny and Scolipede lines. From there, you encounter the Crustle, Galvantula, and Volcarona lines. Game Freak has some more fun with Bug evolutions, having Karrablast steal Shelmet’s armor as they evolve into Escavalier and Accelgor (inspired by the real-world interactions between the ground beetle family Carabidae and the gastropods they feed on). Durant is our first proper ant, and we get our first (and only . . . ) legendary / mythical Bug in Genesect. These games made Bug my favorite type. 10/10.
X & Y
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A big step down from the previous generation. This game hardly has any bugs. Do you like butterflies? You get a butterfly. Vivillon is a lovely butterfly that comes in all sorts of colors, but SURELY there are more bugs than that in France. 6/10.
Sun, Moon, Ultra Sun, Ultra Moon
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Giant isopods! Diving bell spiders! Giraffe stag beetles! A true return to form. While the native bugs of Alola are great, we are also introduced to the ultra beasts, two of which (Buzzwole and Pheromosa) are really cool bugs. It seems they were going for wasps and bee flies when designing the Naganadel and Ribombee lines, but they don’t really work for me. Faint blemishes on an otherwise buggy generation. 8.5/10.
Sword & Shield
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Centiskorch is the greatest Pokémon ever made. I have them tattooed on my arm. Blipbug is the worst Pokémon ever made. I see them in my nightmares. Interesting that they’re both Bug Pokémon, and that Game Freak really min-maxed with them. Fortunately, Blipbug evolves into Dottler and Orbeetle, who are great. Snom has a place in everyone’s heart, and Frosmoth is elegant as can be. 9.5/10.
Scarlet & Violet
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I love Rellor and Rabsca! I . . . don’t really love the rest! Iron Moth and Slither Wing are great, but they’re nepo babies. Tarountula and Nymble are nice, but Spidops and Lokix leave something to be desired. At the end of the day, these games would be alright if they weren’t so wonkily coded and glitchy. Wish there was a better word for that. 7/10.
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gublernatural · 2 years ago
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Suburban Legends ❆ Ellie Williams
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☃︎SUMMARY: ellie is getting ready to leave for a dangerous patrol, but spends time calming her lover down
☃︎WARNINGS: mentions of typical tlou violence, fluff
☃︎NOTE: i’m currently sitting in the car omw to nyc so this may not be formatted correctly but i wanted to get it up in time <3 i will fix it later
☃︎swiftmas masterlist!
.。❅⋆⍋∞。∞⍋⋆❅。.
We were born to be suburban legends. When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that’s gonna screw me up forever.
You weren’t sure when or how Ellie had found the way up to the top of the roof of one of the many storage buildings in Jackson, but you were not complaining. You could see the Christmas lights that had been put up and the way they reflected off of the blanket of snow that had fallen during the day.
Ellie held you close, keeping your shivering body as tucked under her own jacket as she could. She had warned you it would be cold, and you had on a few layers, but you did not want to delay the adventure she had planned for you. She was leaving tomorrow, going with a team of some of the relevant patrol people to a recently discovered abandoned town. You weren’t sure if abandoned was the right word when there were people there, they just happened to have cordyceps growing in their brains.
You wished you could burn the image of your outstretched legs, tucked neatly in between Ellie’s own into your brain. You wished you could keep the sound of her breathing on repeat while she was gone. You wished this moment was never going to end.
But, it was going to. Ellie was going to have to leave, adventuring to a place that could easily have her killed in less than a couple of minutes. You knew she was doing it for the town, and that her main motivation was you. She had whispered to you how she was going to get you supplies for the children you watched at the daycare, how she was going to bring back new clothes for you to look pretty in, hot chocolate to keep your hands warm on your next adventure, all while she held you tightly, just as she now.
There were few times when Ellie could find the right words to say. She was easily overtaken by emotion, often saying things she didn’t mean, whether it be because she was angry and trying to hurt someone’s feelings, or if she was making a joke because a situation was uncomfortable for her. She stumbled over her words when she was trying to be sweet and spit them out with venom when she was trying to be mean.
But, you could feel everything she couldn’t say as she held you close. She picked up your darkest fears, your biggest worries, your happiest memories, and everything in between in her large hands, and bundled you up, protecting you from anything that could hurt you.
Even your own thoughts, just as she was now.
Ellie broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you with a deep sigh, pressing a warm kiss into the back of your head. “I hate that this is the world we were given,” She whispered into the night. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to you, or if she was just speaking into the open air. Either way, you were listening.
“What d’ya mean?” You asked, pressing yourself closer to her, trying to absorb some of your warmth. “We could’ve like, fucking,” there she was, struggling to vocalize her thoughts, “lived in a townhouse, or some shit like that. We could’ve had a cat, an orange one like you always wanted.” You smiled in her arms, recalling all of the times you’d mentioned the cat you wished you could’ve had.
“We could’ve lived in a suburb,” You giggled, trying to imagine Ellie working a 9 to 5, stressing about things that were happening in the office, rather than the infected that were walking around. “We really could’ve,” she laughed, really enjoying conjuring up this imaginary life with you. She let out another chuckle, “I’d have a hot work wife that you’d be crazy jealous of.”
“Hey!” You exclaimed, lightly slapping her arm. “I would not!” You two were a mess of laughter, each picturing the different lives you could’ve been given. As things settled down, she pressed another kiss to the back of your head, “you totally would, though.” You rolled your eyes, letting her win the argument.
Another comfortable silence fell over you two. This one was heavier. You both knew the other was full of wishfulness, desires that could never be fulfilled. It went on like this for a few moments.
“I’m sorry,” Ellie mumbled into the back of your head after a while. “For what?” You asked, grabbing her hand in an effort to warm your own. “That I couldn’t give you a better life."
“Ellie,” you gasped, actually hurt by her words. You turned your body to look at her, making sure she was listening to every word you were about to say. “You have done everything you can to make sure I’ve gotten the best out of the shitty hand we were dealt. I would not trade my time with you for any townhouse, any cat, or any suburb.”
Her eyes were practically hearts are you reassured her. You couldn’t tell if the pink on her cheeks from your monologue, or the piercing cold. She held eye contact with you for a while, taking in how pretty you were. Then, she was pulling towards her, meeting you halfway. The kiss was electric, warming your entire body. Your cold hands slipped under her hoodie, pulling her as close to you as you could. Ellie didn’t mind the chill of your hands, she was too entranced by you.
You two pulled away breathlessly, but neither one of you let go of the other. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asked, her grip on you tightening. Her heart was beating in her chest, and you see the way her breathing sped up by the clouds of smoke that continually spread over your face. You mumbled an “Of course”, reaching up to push a loose hair out of her face.
“You don’t have to worry about me getting infected tomorrow,” You laughed at her statement. Of course, you were going to worry, you always worried about her. “I mean it, you really don’t.” There was some kind of seriousness in her tone that quieted your laughs. You gave her the space to continue talking. “I’m immune,” she was hesitant to speak, “that’s why we ended up in Jackson in the first place. We needed Tommy to take us to this doctor guy, shit went down, and now I’m back. I was supposed to be the cure. I could’ve given you your townhouse.”
Tears were filling her eyes as she told you her story. You felt yourself start to well up. If there was one thing Ellie was good at, it was self-sabotaging. She could never let herself have anything good, and she could surely never believe someone would choose her over everything. But you’d commit to trying to get her to every day.
“Ellie, please don’t make me tell you again,” Your tone was soft, but it was clear you were joking. It made her smile. “I don’t want a stupid townhouse, or even a single family home for that matter. I just want you.” She moved her hand out of yours, holding it up for you to twist your pinky into. “Promise?” She asked, sheepishly. You locked your pinkies and leaned down to press a kiss to your intertwined hands.
You two resumed your first position, snuggled up tightly. However, the silence was once again broken when you spoke up, “You still have to be careful, y’know. You can get hurt even if you can’t get infected.” She laughed again at your worries and tried to ease them with one more kiss to the back of your head.
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lillaydee · 3 months ago
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I'm Right Here Part 4
BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader
Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.
@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal. @kirsteng42
Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list
WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death
SERIES MASTER LIST
Part 3
“Hey, you think Joel was okay with us going out?” Eric asked you as he reversed his truck.
“Of course he is, why do you ask?”
“I don’t know… he seems… something.”
“Something? What do you mean?”
Eric huffed a laugh, “Look, you may think we’re all pulling your leg, but when we told you we thought the two of you were crushing on each other, we weren’t kidding.”
“Oh God. How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have a crush on Joel, and he doesn’t have one on me! We’re practically siblings!” you quickly said, trying to sound tired and annoyed, but whatever came out of your mouth maybe sounded defensive instead. It certainly sounded that way to you.
“Sure you don’t. And sure he doesn’t. You should have seen your face when he sat down with that woman the other night. You looked like someone took your favourite toy away.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night Babe. I’m sure you’ll be okay if Joel meets someone else and falls madly in love and marries them and have lots of children with them. I’m sure you’ll happily smile and stand next to him as his best woman at his wedding and be his children’s Godmother.”
Your heart suddenly dropped at that image. Fuck. That’s what’s gonna happen, right? You’re gonna hide this feeling you had been keeping to yourself and vehemently tried to deny and he would find someone and you’re gonna have to watch and pretend to be happy about it.
Can you even do that?
“Babe,” Eric took your hand in his, keeping one hand on the wheel. “Just tell him. I can assure you that he feels the same way. He’s different with you. You know how he is with everyone else. A jokester. He’s an unserious guy, far too ‘jock-like’ around anyone, always making jokes, always the ‘prom-king’ vibe around him. But with you? He’s the perfect gentleman. He’s soft with you. I’ve been watching the guy for a long time, trust me. That’s why we all think he’s got a crush on you. He’s just so unserious in nature, and he just… mellows with you. So calm, so mature. It’s like he didn’t want you to have any reason to find him annoying or something.”
“That’s because Eddie shut him down ages ago.” It’s true. He used to tease you a lot, but Eddie put a stop to it. You were a sensitive child, the things your birth giver and sperm donor did to you made you insecure. So Joel hadn’t teased you the way he would others as much.
“No, it’s because he has a crush on you. You know he doesn’t really hang out with anyone since he started working? Will told me he goes for drinks after work with Will and Eddie, but other than that, he didn’t really go out much. Dave told me he was shocked Joel agreed to come to that little gathering. He lives here, but doesn’t really keep in touch with anyone, but he keeps in touch with you.”
“Because of Eddie.”
Eric pretended like he couldn’t hear you. “And get this, the man was a ladies man. You know this. Had been since puberty. Changed girlfriends as if he was trying on clothes. The way I hear it, he didn’t actually date the girls, just… have different hook up buddies for a few weeks at a time. His dates consisted of hooking up in bathrooms and trucks, and if they were lucky, he would go over to theirs for a quick tryst but never brought any of the girls home. It’s why they never last that long. A month tops. No such thing as a romantic date when you are seeing Joel Miller. And now you’re back he’s spending all this time with you, driving you everywhere and making weekend plans? He didn’t even do that with his so-called girlfriends. He’s famous for it. At the bar the other day, even when there was a hot girl sitting with him, he was only looking at you. Open your eyes Daze. He’s totally into you. And don’t even deny the fact that you hadn’t let go of a breath since I mentioned his love life.”
You had never been more aware of your breathing pattern than you were at that point in time. Fuck, were you that obvious? You knew he was telling the truth. Eddie told you the same thing. Every time he was ‘in a fight’ with his girlfriends, it’s because they were tired of being his ‘on-call girls’. He shrugged it off as him not being the relationship kind. Nothing serious, just casual. But you didn’t expect Eric to know that.
“He’s spending time with me because I am staying with him. And, it was the anniversary of Eddie’s passing. Once I get a job I will be moving out, he won’t spend so much time with me then. You’ll see. And how the fuck do you know so much about his dating life anyway?”
“Girls like to gossip with me. Oh fuck, does he know about me?”
“No.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“Of course not! You asked me not to tell anyone!”
“Babe, that was in high school. It’s okay now. Tell him. He might think you’re with me!”
“So what if he does? I told you. He doesn’t have a crush on me. He said so at the bar!”
“Uh… no he didn’t. You did.”
“Well, he doesn’t. I know that for a fact. He sees me as a sister. He definitely said that.” You turned to look out the window, trying to hide the sting you still feel after that little declaration he made to Dave and Lucy.
Eric sighed, knowing that there was no use in forcing you to admit to anything.
The dinner was… interesting… The restaurant was definitely up there. There was no way high school Eric could have possibly taken you on such an upscale date. You sat patiently as course after course was served to the two of you, plate after unnecessarily large plates were taken away, before more unnecessary plates were placed in front of you, the food miniscule in comparison. The two of you sort of kept quiet during dinner, the polite silence in the restaurant making you feel as if you might get a fine just for speaking, much less laughing the way you always did when you were with Eric. The bill finally arrived and both of you looked at the bill in shock, both quiet as you got back into his truck, bursting into laughter as soon as the valet shut the doors.
“Well… safe to say we are NOT Michelin star restaurant people!” he guffawed.
“Nu’uh. We are not. Explain to me how you just paid $300 dollars and I’m still starving?”
“Burgers? Tacos?”
“Pizza. Now. PLEASE!”
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“Thank you for letting me buy you dinner. I really appreciate this. I just feel so bad you drove all the way over to screw in two screws,” Jen sat down at the small two top, a huge smile she couldn’t hide on her face.
Joel gave her a small smile back, looking around the pizza place as if he was worried about being recognized.
“Joel…” Jen said, her expression just shy of crestfallen. Joel turned to look at her, noticing her sad look, and decided to focus on her for a change. “I’m gonna ask you something. Please be honest with me.”
Joel felt bad immediately. He had a feeling he knew what she was about to ask him.
“Joel, just be honest with me. You don’t want to be here, do you? I mean, it’s not like you were being subtle. You have pretty much disregarded me from the beginning,” she said, head down, looking at her hands.
Joel sighed, feeling horrible. He gave her a regretful smile. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just… I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I’m not looking to start anything with anyone, so I just…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence – she stopped him.
“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. I know I come off as coming on too strongly. But the truth is, all I wanted was to thank you, and not just for the other night. See, when we were still in school, you saved me. At the pool. I cramped up and went under and no one noticed except for you. If you hadn’t saved me… I would’ve… I just wanted to thank you.”
Joel thought back to that one day when he was at the pool with his family, he was about to jump in when he saw someone floundering underwater. He jumped in and got her out, checked she was alright, and went off to swim with Tommy. He didn’t even stop after she was safely on a lounger and the lifeguard took over. But… that was her?
“So I just wanted a chance to properly thank you, that’s all. I promise. No ulterior motive. Besides,” she added, looking down at her feet, “I know you’re head over heels in love with Dahlia.”
“Daisy,” Joel corrected, before he could even stop himself. He cleared his throat, “But I’m not in love with her. She’s just a very good friend. Someone I’ve known since childhood.”
“Sure she is,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Shall we order?”
They ordered, and Joel ordered a large Hawaiian pizza to go. Jen looked at him, a small but excited smile forming on her lips. “Are you thinking of a movie night after? I don’t really like pineapples on my pizza,” she said.
 “What do you mean?” he asked, confused.
“Well, we’re eating here, and you ordered another pizza to go. So, I’m guessing you have plans for us after this?” her smile was undeniable now.
Joel didn’t answer, instead, asking her, “So, what do you do for a living?”
They had small talks throughout dinner, Joel actually finding out a few things about Jen. She worked for a printing company that prints tickets for the zoo. It was why she was there that day they met. Her parents moved away from Austin to take care of her elderly grandparents, and she stayed for work. She usually stayed in, she didn’t really have that many friends, she was too introverted to go out and meet people.
“Which means I don’t have that many friends. So, if you don’t mind, I would really like to have you as a friend, Joel. Dahlia too. Maybe we could hang out together, the three of us. Her boyfriend too, if she’s okay with that,” she said, crumpling her paper napkin up.
“Daisy,” Joel corrected.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I keep doing that,” she said, laughing a little, covering her face with her hands.
Just as he was thinking of a way to let her down gently, the bell at the door dinged, and you and Eric walked in. He froze. As did you. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed he was there with Jen, causing Eric to walk directly into you, immediately placing his hand around your middle to stop you from falling.
You couldn’t even lie to yourself at that point. Seeing him willingly going out for dinner with her… but you had no right to feel this way. He’s not your boyfriend.
“You okay?” Eric whispered, clocking Joel’s presence, the man obviously uncomfortable seeing the two of you there. You composed yourself, nodding quickly. You smiled at Joel and began walking to the counter.
“I ordered a Hawaiian for you,” Joel quickly said, “Figured you’d still be hungry. I was gonna take it home later.”
“You did? So I don’t have to wait long to eat again?”
“Miniscule servings?”
“So tiny I needed a microscope to see me food!” you exclaimed, making him laugh. Eric shook his head, laughing along. “Never again,” he told Joel. “Can I have a couple slices please? Do you mind Joel?”
“Sure. I get it. The bigger the plate the smaller the portion huh?” the three of you laughed. Joel asked the guy at the counter to give you the pizza he ordered, paid and asked Jen if she was ready to leave.
“Oh, I thought the pizza was for us,” she said, looking disappointed.
“Was it? It’s okay if it is, I’ll order one for myself,” you quickly said, feeling rather bad seeing her crestfallen looks.
“No, I ordered it for you. I should get you home, Jen. It’s getting late,” Joel quickly said, walking towards the door, “See you at home?” he asked you, and you nodded, Eric taking the box from you, following behind.
“The two of you live together?” Jen quietly asked as Joel reversed the truck.
He simply nodded, unable to pretend any longer. He just wanted to get back home, spend time with you. He missed you, despite only leaving your company less than three hours ago.
“You know, you paid for dinner. Can we do this again? So I can pay this time? The dinner was supposed to be my way of paying you for your inconvenience. Maybe lunch tomorrow?” Jen tried again.
“Sorry. I have a family lunch tomorrow.”
“Oh, fun! Where?”
“My parents’.”
“Oh that’s nice… they still at the big house?”
“Er… yeah, how do you know that?”
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows where your parents live. The whole town knew when your parents built that house. It was literally the only thing everyone talked about,” she laughed. “What about Sunday?”
Joel thought for a while before finally telling her, “Jen, I’m really sorry. But I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry if me saying okay to dinner tonight gave you the wrong impression, but I don’t need you to pay me back for anything.”
“Okay,” Jen nodded, “Sorry, I really wasn’t trying to…”
“Maybe the next time we run into each other at the bar we can have a drink together or something, but we don’t need to make plans for anything. Really, Jen, it’s not a big deal.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’d like that. When that happens, the drinks are on me, okay?”
Joel smiled, nodding. His phone rang just as he turned into her driveway, telling her he had to take it, apologizing for not walking her to her door. He didn’t wait for her to go inside, answering as he reversed. He drew a deep breath when he answered the call, finding out the origin of the call. “What have you done now, Tommy?”
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Eric turned into Joel’s driveway, asking you if you would be okay alone until Joel got back. You nodded, asking him to wait while you put a couple of slices into a container for him to take home. Just as he hit the brakes to stop, the engine cut out. Just like that. He tried restarting it but only got a sad rattling sound from the attempt.
“What the fuck?” Eric groaned, quickly going up front to see what was going on. “I have no idea what is going on,” he told you, blindly looking at the engine, wishing to God he had taken mechanical engineering instead of chemical.
“Let’s just go inside. Joel might know. He fixes his own truck, maybe you could ask him. He shouldn’t be long,” you told him, unlocking the front door.
The two of you ate the pizza quietly, leaving some for Joel. Eric was now in a bad mood over his truck, and you in a similar mood over Joel not being home yet. What was taking him so long? An hour had passed, and you were extremely tempted to just call him to ask his whereabouts.
But then… what if he stayed at Jen’s? What if you interrupted their… fuck… you couldn’t even finish that thought. You shook your head a little, almost laughing at your own silliness. What did it matter if he was… you know… with Jen? He wasn’t yours to be jealous over.
Eric seemed to catch on, nudging you with his foot. “You’re thinking Joel and Jen…?”
You could feel your tears welling up, so you got up and told him you were going to bed. Would he be okay waiting for Joel alone? Sure, he told you, his eyes understanding, maybe there was a smidge of pity there too. He texted his mechanic Jim just in case Joel was far too late coming home. Could be the timing belt, Jim theorized. He would be over first thing in the morning. Eric put on a movie while waiting for Joel to come home, falling asleep before the opening credits even ended.
You laid in bed, tossing and turning, waiting for the sounds of Joel’s truck. You couldn’t sleep well that night, waking every half an hour or so, fighting the demonic images of him and Jen in your head, falling asleep again, before finally giving up at around six, getting up to go for a run. You woke a curled up Eric and told him to go and sleep on your bed, the couch wasn’t exactly the comfiest. The man was so tired and groggy he didn’t put up a fight, kicking his pants off and falling asleep on your bed before you shut the front door to leave.
Joel’s truck was not there. The lump in your chest was threatening to make it’s way up your body and out of your tear ducts, so you started running. You kept running when you made your way around the housing area to see his truck still not there, repeating the lap until you felt like simply running away out of Austin altogether.
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Joel hit the brakes when he saw Eric’s truck parked in his driveway, a coldness he could not even describe seeping up his spine. He sat in his truck for a while, willing himself not to cry. He should be happy for you. This was not about him. Served him right for never having the balls to tell you how he felt. He finally exited his truck, heart at the sole of his foot, unlocking the front door, trying to tell his heart to calm down. Please God, he quietly prayed, please don’t let him hear the two of you. He wouldn’t survive. He saw the pizza box on the coffee table, smiling a little at the sight of the leftovers, knowing that you left it out on purpose for him. He knew without knowing that you did think of having the pizzas with him. He then sighed, remembering that you spent the night with Eric, realizing that he was stupidly hopeful, shaking his head, taking the box to the kitchen.
A phone rang from your room, Eric’s voice answering, a scrambling and a squeak of your bed followed, the door hastily opened. Eric came flying out, putting his pants on, immediately running out the front door, still on the phone, not even noticing Joel standing in the kitchen with a crestfallen look on his face. His eyes wandered to your closing door, praying that you stayed in there and not come out half-dressed looking all fucked out. But in his mind, he could see you on your bed, naked, all warm and blissed out from what he imagined was the perfect date.  
Joel couldn’t help himself. He could not see this. He went straight into the bathroom, shutting the door and turning the shower on, drowning his thoughts in the warm water. He let his tears run down his cheeks, almost sobbing at the images going on in his head, trying hard to tell his heart that he was okay with this. He would be happy if you were happy with Eric. He would smile and stand beside you through it all. He ended up on the floor, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking from an overwhelming emotion he did not know he could feel over something he himself had caused, his tired body and the lack of sleep only making things worse. If only he had had the courage to tell you. If only he was a better man.
Took him a while, but he finally peeled himself off the bathroom floor and dried himself, opening the door, only to bump into you, body wrapped in just a towel, your skin all flushed and pink. You turned around when you noticed he was only in a towel too, holding your own close to your body, asking him if he had seen Eric.
“He left in a hurry like 15-20 minutes ago,” he mumbled, the only thing he could manage without his voice cracking. He walked towards his room, stopping when he heard you call his name.
You looked as if you were contemplating something, your eyes avoiding his, before finally asking him what time he planned on leaving for his parents’ for the lunch. Joel looked at the clock, telling you he was planning on going back to sleep for a few hours, so maybe, 11ish? You nodded, telling him you needed to sleep too, a resignation in your voice before closing the bathroom door behind you.
The drive to the Millers’ was a quiet one, both of you still processing the going ons that were invading your heads – you with the images of Joel and Jen in her bed, Joel with you and Eric in yours.
The squeal from Anita Miller put those thoughts out of your head, the woman hugging you, rocking you side to side as if her life depended on it. She only stopped when Jake Miller insisted it was his turn, picking you off the ground and spinning you around, telling you he missed you, quickly divesting your hands off the wine and dessert you had brought. Anita hugged Joel, slipping her arms in yours and Joel’s, asking the two of you how living under the same roof was going so far, and asking you if the book keeping is giving you any grief.
“Look who’s here everyone!” Anita hollered as you got to the backyard, Olivia immediately getting up from helping Will’s mom, Aunt Tina with the napkins to give you a hug. His mom hugged you next, and the next thing you knew you were lifted off the ground once more, this time by an excited Benny, excited to see you.
As you helped the family set the outdoor table, you couldn’t help yourself from taking a handful of the blueberries on the table, literally shoving them down your throat. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were. You over exerted yourself with your self-pity run that morning and did not have breakfast from the awkwardness of seeing Joel in a towel, trying hard not to imagine any of Jen’s bite marks on his perfect body.
“Hey Daze, have you seen…” Joel’s voice came out of nowhere, shocking the living crap out of you, making you splutter, slightly choking from an errant blueberry or two. “Oh shit,” he said, grabbing some napkins and rubbing your back as you literally coughed your throat out, leaving you for a second and coming back with a glass of water. He helped clean your face and made you drink the water, asking you if you were okay, worry written all over his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you.”
You started laughing, shaking your head. “Not your fault. I thought you were the blueberry police.”
He scanned your body, seeing the blueberries left in your hand, pointed at it with a horrified expression, gasping a conspiratorial “Thief!” at you.
“I’m hungry! I didn’t have breakfast!”
“Me neither,” he said, smiling down at your laughing face. He had a cheeky look on him all of a sudden, looking left and right, before taking something from the table, shoving it in your hand. “Take this. Be cool,” he murmured, grabbing something else from the table. He took your hand in his and calmly walked away, taking you with him, reminding you once more to be cool. You were about ten steps away when his Aunt Tina’s voice can be heard asking Olivia if she had seen the basket of focaccia and butter she had just placed on the table. Joel grasped your hand hard, “Shit, run!” and pulled you along with him as the two of you made your way to the treehouse he and Eddie had built one summer when the two of you were invited to stay, way back when they had first moved to this property.
You hid behind him as he peeked to see if you were being followed. “I think we’re okay,” he said, producing the basket of focaccia he had smuggled under his shirt, placing it up on the deck of the treehouse before taking the pot of butter he had passed on to you and doing the same. He helped you climb up before climbing up himself, taking a warm slice of focaccia, tearing it in half and dipping it in butter, offering it to you.
“And you called me a thief!” you gasped, looking scandalized that he had made you his accomplice. But you were so hungry you scarfed that piece of bread down like it was the first piece of food you had had in days. Your eyes closing at the warm, buttery, herb-filled mixture in your mouth, tilting your head back, enjoying the sun in your face. “Fuck, I’ve missed this focaccia. Your Mom makes the best ones ever, I swear to God!”
“Mm Hmm…” he nodded, his mouth full. He shuffled back so that his back was against the wall of the treehouse, basket of focaccia and the pot of butter on his lap, dipping another, patting the floor next to him so you’d join him. You did, taking another piece of focaccia, savouring it.
Your head wanted you to ask him about last night, but your heart told you not to. What if he told you everything? Could you take it? The way your stomach dropped at the thought told you no, you would not be able to take it. So you didn’t ask, silently willing him not to tell you anything about it either.  
“I have a job interview on Monday,” you reminded him. “I’m going straight there in the morning and will go to the office after.”
“I’ll drive you,” he said, taking a blueberry from your hand.
“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll cab it. I don’t know how long it’ll take. Don’t you have to be on site?”
“I’ll talk to my Dad, I’m sure he’ll understand,” he countered.
Your intention to protest was interrupted by heavy footsteps, followed by Aunt Tina and Anita Miller glaring up at the two of you, both with slices of focaccia literally in your hands.
“I knew it!” Aunt Tina yelled out, her eyes glinting with mischief. “We found them! And yes, they have the bread!” she called out to someone beyond your line of sight.
Benny came running up, a camera in his hands, snapping pictures of the two of you, looking guilty as fuck with stolen focaccias in your hands, Anita climbing the ladder a little to take the half empty basket of focaccia and pot of butter away from the thieves, teasing you about old habits and mischiefs, a smile on her face. “Food’s ready,” she told you, “Tommy’s on the way. We’ll eat as soon as he gets here.”
Joel shuffled to the edge of the treehouse, jumping down. He turned around and offered his hands for you to follow, easily catching you when you slid down after him, your body landing on his solid chest.
“Hey, look here,” Benny said, camera at the ready. Joel placed his hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his lips landing on your temple, your eyes closing at the sensation. You opened your eyes and smiled at the camera, as did he. “Beautiful,” Benny said, smiling. “Come on, I can hear Tommy’s truck.”
Joel placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the outdoor dining table, Tommy immediately coming over to give you a hug. “Hey Daze,” he mumbled, squeezing you a little.
“Fuck, Tommy, did you bathe in whiskey?” you couldn’t help remarking, almost recoiling at the sour smell seeping out of his pores. He chuckled a little bit, looking sheepish, “Yeah… had a little too much fun last night.”
He looked at Joel, not meeting his eyes, mumbling something about saying hi to their parents and aunt before asking Joel if they could talk. Benny called out to you from the side entrance of the house, beckoning you over. You gave Tommy a quick pat on the shoulder before joining his cousin.
“Hey, uhm… what time did you leave? I woke up and you were gone,” Tommy asked his brother, avoiding his eyes.  
“Early. Does Mom know about last night?”
Tommy shook his head, pleading for him not to tell.
“You gotta reign it in, man. Stop looking for reasons to fight others.”
“He grabbed her arm hard, Joel, was I supposed to just let him do that?”
“He just found out his wife was out on a date with you!” Joel seethed, controlling his voice so no one would hear. He rubbed his temples, “I have a headache. I didn’t get much sleep last night. You should go shower. Mom’s gonna freak if she sees you like this.”
“I already showered,” Tommy defended.
“Well, you need another one. Daze was right. You reek of whiskey,” Joel countered, going inside to find something for his throbbing head, the headache hitting him suddenly upon seeing his troubled brother again.
You went over to Benny, who quickly pulled you aside, looking behind you to make sure no one followed. “Hey Daze, can you keep a secret?”
“Uh… depends, what’s going on?”
Benny looked guilty, looking out to the driveway to make sure no one was coming. “I have a friend coming over, I was gonna introduce him to my Mom, but… I don’t know Daze… I think… Fuck… I’m terrified. I don’t know if I’m ready for this today. Thing is, I know he’s your friend too… so…” he rubbed his face, looking guilty as fuck, “In case my cold feet hadn’t gone away by the time he arrived, could you cover for me? Maybe say he’s here cause you invited him?” He bounced on his feet a little, hands in his pockets, shoulders up to his ears, looking more jittery than you had ever seen him.
You frowned, “What’s the big deal about you inviting a friend over? Why would you get cold feet about introducing a friend to your Mom?”
The bounce in his feet turned into a rocking back and forth, something he did when he felt uncomfortable. “Daze…” he whispered, his eyes pleading as a familiar truck approached.
“Eric?” you wondered out loud. Benny went up the driveway, hands still in his pockets as Eric exited his truck, giving you a small awkward wave. Benny said something to him, glancing your way. You were sort of frozen where you were, confused as to what was going on. How did Benny know Eric? Benny went to the boy’s school for the wrestling team, so they didn’t meet at school. You could see Eric take a deep breath, shaking his head a little at whatever Benny was saying to him, but ultimately he rolled his eyes and nodded, seemingly giving in to the situation at hand. Benny looked around cautiously for a bit before stepping towards Eric, giving him a sweet kiss.
Wait.
Oh…
Benny? Really? Huh. You didn’t know him as well as you thought you did then.
The two made their way towards you, Benny avoiding your eyes for a bit. He stopped in front of you, grimacing, as if begging you to cooperate. You rolled your eyes. “Fine!” you huffed, immediately engulfed by an overly enthusiastic, thankful hug from the younger man. Eric gave you a quick hug, immediately launching into the issue with his truck, apologizing for not telling you he had left, having woken up abruptly in a panic from Jim’s phone call. You listened intently as the three of you walked towards the dining table, Will coming to greet Eric, eyeing his brother suspiciously. Benny continued looking guilty, shaking his head at his brother, who simply patted him on his back, telling Eric he’s sorry. Eric just smiled, shrugging a little.
Anita and Aunt Tina came outside, greeting Eric enthusiastically. They knew him as Joel and Will’s friend, obviously, Will quickly telling them he had invited him over, just because. “Of course!” Anita quickly said, putting her arm around Eric’s, the other around yours. “Didn’t you two use to date?” she asked you, making Benny sputter on his own saliva. “You did? I didn’t know that.”
“It’s ancient history, Ben,” Will said, pushing his brother forward. “We’re just good friends now, Mrs Miller,” Eric added. Anita smiled, squeezing his arm. “Well, you’re always welcome,” she assured him, Aunt Tina nodding vehemently in agreement.
“Come sit down!” Aunt Tina said, pulling a chair for Eric, pushing you a little to sit next to him.
Joel came out with the pasta in his hands, Tommy following with the salad, almost knocking Joel over in the process. The man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Eric, only walking on when Tommy ran into him. He shook Eric’s hand, mumbling something about not expecting him there, his eyes glancing at you.
“Will invited him,” Anita absent-mindedly commented, passing the napkins around. You pulled the chair next to you, inviting Joel to sit, but he chose to sit way at the other end of the table instead, Tommy taking the seat.
Joel could feel his headache doubling, tripling, even. Sure, Will supposedly invited Eric, according to his mother, but deep down he knew it had to have been you. Why the fuck would Will invite Eric over? His head felt heavy, the Tylenol he took didn’t seem to do it’s job at all. He ate his pasta half-heartedly, half listening to the conversations going on at the table, trying to figure out a way to find his way back up to his old room without alerting anyone and just burying himself into his pillows. Much as he tried not to look, he couldn’t help but see the easy smiles and laughter you were giving Eric, how comfortable you were with him.
His head was throbbing. He excused himself and went to the bathroom, finding some extra strength pain killer his Dad took for his back, downing a couple. He heard his Mom call his name. He splashed some water onto his face and came out to a quiet backyard, everyone seemingly focused on someone he couldn’t see. He stepped outside to see Jen standing awkwardly with a box in her hand. She smiled when she saw him. He went to her, an unease in his heart.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered.
“Well, you didn’t want me to buy you dinner, so I’m just dropping this off. I just really wanted to pay you back,” she said, handing him the box. She stood awkwardly for a bit, looking around at the faces of everyone there, avoiding your eyes, before finally telling him she was just gonna take off then, slowly turning around to leave.
No one said anything. You could hear a pin drop. Joel didn’t know what came over him, but he heard his own voice call out.
“Wait, stay. Have some lunch.”
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Part 5
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megalomaniacz · 2 years ago
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🗡️ DEFENDER OF SAURIS
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how you can help palestine
𓇗*ੈ✩‧₊˚☾ synopsis: rumored to be a child of gods, ellie williams, known for her noble battle against the cordyceps virus is appointed to guard the kingdom of sauris.
☾⋆⁺₊✧ 🏰 content: sexual content, fantasy au, reader is described to have powers, barely diving into the plot, me just losing my mind basically.
ྀ࿔ author’s note: this was hell to write. it’s quite terrible actually and i want to cry my eyes out. i’ve never written fantasy but i’m such an experimentalist i decided to fuck myself over for fun. PLEASE (i’m begging you) give me feedback on this. i want to improve!
cheers can be heard, and nearly felt, from the small tavern sat in the middle of the village. a hip hip hurray shared over beers echoes through its wooden walls. the victor, a savory smile on her face, has fled her own celebration to find fresh air.
outside you sit, tracing shapes into your palm. the victor sees you, and oh does she find you interesting. walking up to you unsuspected, stripped of her armor. a waist length t shirt and a pair of dark slacks making her seemingly civilian.
“not much for celebration?” she asks. you jump, startled, and stare at her with the the most unpleasant face you could make. she’s wondering now if she should tell you who she is.
“just not up for celebrating some stranger in a cape. i should be the one guarding the kingdom.” you shrug, going back to tracing shapes into your palm. she’s intrigued by your anwser and finds herself wanting to know more.
“and why do you believe you’re more fit then a trained soldier?” a hint of defense in her tone.
“i am a trained soldier.” you scoff. “and i know this village like the back of my hand. i’ve got a strong hold on my magic. i’ve been training for years.” her face gets serious now as she listens. “some lunatic with a knife swoops in and wipes all of that from under me.”
“well i don’t think i’m a lunatic.” she follows. your eyes shoot up in realization, then an annoyed scoff leaves your lips. “you sure act like one.”
“how so?” she questions.
you place a firm hand on your hip. “you definitely wouldn’t have told me you were the victor if i didnt bring it up. i think that’s information you’re required to disclose.”
“well you’re right, i would’ve liked to tell you my name first. i’m ellie.”
the day before battle, ellie had called you to her quarters. you’d always wanted to step foot in the castle draped in soldier attire, you felt bare in your regular clothes.
“is there a special reason you’ve called me to you?” you ask as you arrive at her door. she shoos off the guards and ushers you in.
“company. the day before battle and i’m all alone?” she pouts playfully. she’s wearing a half open button down, hair falling over her face ever so carefully. cheeks red. due to the deeply empathetic nature of your powers, you could feel the manifestation of butterflies forming in her stomach.
they multiply whenever you look at her.
a filthy thought slips into your head and you swallow it down. “i’m not sure what you’re implying, but if it’s what i think-“
she shows her palms to you revealing a lack of markings. one of many signs of honesty. “you don’t have to worry. i just enjoy your presence is all. you bring light to me.”
you nearly choke from the laughter that erupts. “oh, how many people has that line worked on?” you ask, looking her up and down.
she averts her gaze. “is it working on you?”
“no.” you respond quickly.
“ah, zero.”
the air is cool and quiet. a tension rises in the sudden silence. she watches as you walk around her room softly placing your fingertips on her trinkets. “this is quite the set up. very nice. blades everywhere.”
she nods. she’s started to trail you now. her hands nearly missing yours as she covers some of her blades. worried that you might get cut and draw blood. “a soldier must always be prepared.”
you take a seat on her bed leaning back on your hands. “so i’m assuming you prepared for me then?” she looks at you after inspecting the room for more possible sharp objects. raising her brow and fighting a smile.
“only the best for my best girl.” she says. you sit in awe as the aroma of the room becomes reminiscent of your favorite flower. a faint sound of a body of water echos from the walls. the bed becomes a bit softer than it was before.
you shake your head. the gawl of her! and to set the scene so perfectly? how crude. “and what if the princess catches wind of what you just said?” you tease.
she sighs thoughtfully. “i’ll have them slaughter me in the main quarters. promise you’ll close your eyes?” she travels to the edge of the bed and sits next to you.
“as tight as they’ll shut.”
a kiss breaks the reverent tension building between the two of you. her hand on the small of your back. a lustrous poison spilling from the sweetness of her tongue. a toxic feeling you fear you’ll never rid. her touch has overtaken you now. capturing your mind, body, and soul.
she pulls you on top of her, careful to never break the kiss. a soft groan leaves your lips, and to that she bucks her hips up into your heat.
her hands get busy with your clothes. hungrily ridding you of them and disposing of them on the floor. you reach for her pants but her hand stops you. “i can’t be touched before battle, it’s a rule. allow me to love you tonight?”
and you do. a tangled mess is made of you. her tongue licking up your folds to spread your juices around the bud of your clit. you cry out in pleasure as her hands grapple at your hips, attempting to stabilize you.
she shows you a slice of heaven you thought you’d never know that entire night. eyes never leaving you while her fingers hit the spot that makes your jaw slack. not much can be said of your noises, except that according to her, they were a siren song.
she was convinced your sweetness on her tongue was poison, and you were luring her to her death.
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fragilefable · 2 years ago
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don't look too far, right where you are, that's where i am.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader Summary: As you battle a seasonal flu, your partner Joel makes sure that you don't have to lift a finger. Warnings: sick fic, soft/ooc!Joel, cursing, brief mention of loss of appetite due to sickness, in depth descriptions of being sick, suggestive flirting (nothing crazy), probably too much domestic fluff, established relationship, kissing.
Word Count: 1.1K Currently Playing: Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey ♪
A/N: this is completely self indulgent as I am currently writing this on my death bed (i have the flu). so please accept this oneshot while i finish proofreading another (way longer) fic that i've been working on for a long time! also please keep my immune system in your thoughts/prayers :(
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As the color of the leaves became warmer, the Wyoming air turned colder. Another autumn in Jackson came and went. With this seasonal shift came great advantages: Infected became slower, as did Raiders and Hunters. It also came with disadvantages–– sickness being one of them. The Cordyceps Infection plagued every inch of the Earth, but this disease was far more unavoidable. 
Your body ached with each minute movement. The sheets were damp with sweat. Your throat dry, as if you were backpacking in the Arizonian heat, your tin canteen bone dry. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead, you groaned: You definitely had a fever. Removing your clammy hand, you extend an arm in search of a familiar warmth, only to find the left side of the bed empty. 
A raspy cough escapes your lips as you call out for your partner, "Joel?" Your call is met with a heavy silence, daylight filling the empty bedroom. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. A smile threatens your cracked lips when you spot a glass of water and two painkillers on the nightstand beside a note embellished with familiar chicken scratch: "Went to the market, be home soon. Love ya."
You weakly chuckled as you popped the two pills in your mouth, chasing them with the lukewarm water. A shiver ran down your spine as you threw the covers off your body. Groaning softly, you stood up and extended your arms above your head, permitting the sore muscles a moment of reprieve. Padding over to the dresser, you lazily pulled on one of Joel's flannels and a pair of grey sweatpants. You took a moment to inhale through your stuffy nose, basking in the warm, woodsy scent of his shirt.
It took you an embarrassing amount of time to descend the stairs; your tired limbs were heavy like sandbags, effectively weighing you down. Shuffling into the living room, you collapsed on the worn leather couch. You were useless in this state, resolute to hibernate until this illness left your body. Curling into the couch cushions, you allow your eyelids to droop shut as sleep overtakes your body once again. 
A familiar weight sinks beside you on the couch, just barely rousing you from your slumber. The warmth of Joel's hand rested briefly on your forehead and then on your cheek. You hum in response, nestling closer against the callouses of his palm. He chuckles softly, "Hey Darlin'. How ya feelin'?" Your eyes flutter open, taking a mental photograph of his chill-flushed cheeks: "Like shit." 
A sympathetic smile graced his hardened face, causing you to frown. You were tough–– you had to be. There was no room for weakness or fragility in a post-apocalyptic world. But you truly felt like utter, complete garbage. Joel's large hands wander the expanse of your back, gently massaging the strained muscles. As much as you didn't want to burden him, you couldn't deny that his attention was helping to alleviate some of the discomfort: "You don't have to fuss over me, Joel. I'm a grown-up. I can take care of myself." 
Joel hums in acknowledgment, applying more pressure to the tight knot right below your neck where your spine starts: "I know, baby. I want to. Lemme take care of you." You hesitate but eventually nod softly, your body sinking further into the plush leather. Joel's hands knead your back muscles with such care and precision that any tension immediately dissipates. 
Slowly, you push yourself up, clutching your neck in discomfort. "Your throat hurt?" Joel beckons from beside you, one of his arms slung over the back of the couch–– his fingers absentmindedly caressing the exposed skin of your shoulder. You nod weakly, causing him to stand and wander towards the kitchen abruptly, "Went to the market and picked up some of that tea y'like. Got some soup, too." 
You follow his path to find him unpacking the canvas tote, setting each item on the granite counter. "Thank you, baby. 'M not really hungry though," you stand behind him, arms wrapped around his torso. You press a kiss on his clothed back in between his shoulder blades, eliciting a soft groan from Joel: "Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll get you that tea?" 
Your arms tighten around his tall frame, "Are you sayin' I smell, Miller?" Joel laughs gruffly, "No. 'M sayin' you need to relax if you wanna get better." You separate from him, brushing a stray curl from his face: "Mhm. You just wanna get me naked." He smirks, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you flush against him— his gaze darts between your eyes and lips. You place your hands on his chest and softly protest, "Joel... We can't, you'll catch it too."
He scoffs, "Don't care. Your germs are my germs, darlin'." His lips capture yours; the kiss is chaste but affectionate. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip, tongue swiping across the subtle indents he left. He pulls away, his thumb caressing your chin: "Now go before I change my mind." 
Rolling your eyes, you trudge up the stairs to your and Joel's shared bathroom. You turn on the shower, allowing the room to fill with steam. You lather your body with herbal soaps made by one of the older women who work in the greenhouse. It smelled of lavender and thyme–– it smelled of Joel. 
After turning off the faucet, you wrap yourself in a large terrycloth towel. Worn and slightly miscolored, but clean nonetheless. When you descend the staircase, the overwhelming scent of chamomile fills your nostrils, accompanied by the mellow chords of an acoustic guitar. A smile breaks across your face at the sight laid in front of you: Joel perched on the worn fabric of the couch with his guitar idly sat in his lap, his deft fingers plucking the strings. 
Your body collapses next to his, head lolling to the side before it rests against his shoulder. "Did the shower help?" His chest rumbles, fingers continuing to play a song from before the outbreak; the name escapes you. "Yes, it did. But this helps more," you bring your knees close to your chest. You relish in Joel's body heat; that man always was a goddamn furnace. 
Joel set the guitar against the coffee table, repositioning until your body fully leaned against him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, "Is there anythin' else I can do f'you darlin'?" You shook your head, "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" A deep chuckle escaped him, "That I can do." As your eyes slipped closed once more, you felt a pair of warm lips press against your hairline and listened as Joel's breathing evened out. The sound soothing you to sleep like your very own lullaby. 
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© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.
divider by @saradika
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