#ellie you're too precious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thriftedtchotchkes · 9 months

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you're a mean one, mr. miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift

warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids

word count: 3.8k

12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3

The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose.

Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy.

You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas.

They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.

All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time.

Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it?

You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.

You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.

If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.

So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.

"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"

Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face.

"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.

"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."

"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.

You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.

"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."

She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.

"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."

"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."

She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here.

"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.

"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."

You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple.

He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.

But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion.

You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.

"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"

Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.

"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."

Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember.

Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.

"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.

"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."

She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.

"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."

Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.

No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.

"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.

It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.

She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.

"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.

"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."

She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.

"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.

"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.

A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly.

Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.

"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.

"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate.

"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.

"Now."

ONE YEAR LATER

Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day.

You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.

In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season.

Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too.

Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project.

By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.

Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.

“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television.

“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”

He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.

“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.

“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.

“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.

“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation.

“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look.

You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.

“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.

“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction.

Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”

“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.

“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.

“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.

“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”

He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.

“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing.

And in that moment, the flash goes off.

Yeah, this is the one.

The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.

Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.

And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.

As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest.

You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.

"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."

He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.

"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.

"You wanna see it?"

His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.

"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"

That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.

He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors.

Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book.

He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you.

The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.

“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall.

You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.

He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.

“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.

thanks for reading and happy holidays!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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

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melukonova · 6 months

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LOVING SEPHIROTH, sephiroth x reader.

tw. mentions of his hurtful past, emotional abuse that miniroth didn't deserve :( this post can be seen as suggestive but it's left mostly to your interpretation

a/n. for @silverflqmes , my best friend who has inspired me to write yet again for something i love and for writing various requests for me, indulging me in my own happiness. you are never leaving this deep hole of ff7 that i dug for you AHAHAHAH! this is also for the many fans who have made fanfics and such that have shaped me now<3 much love to you all! (i will make more headcanons if this gets love) also sephiroth might be a little ooc since he's new territory of writing for me :,)

info. very lovable and soft sephiroth<3 very short blurbs! inspired by the song everything by lifehouse, i can see him relating about you, the reader, and how he feels for you. enjoy! pre-nibelheim!!!

𐚁. sephiroth's love language can be seen as quality time as seen with the time he spent with genesis and angeal, he grew very attached easily. i can see this in a similiar way since i'm sure once you've caught sephiroth's eye, you're happily in his heart. he enjoys just being together, perhaps he'll teach you how to use masamune (a toy version at least since he wants to protect you from injuries). don't get me wrong, every other love language applies for him too but i know he's happiest with the fact that you're there by his side.

𐚁. he is very awkward with affection so the first time you hold him, i think he wouldn't know what to do but he'll awkwardly pat your back while trying not to freak out a bit by being touched since he was experimented on as a child. please teach him how to love, he didn't get enough as kid... i think being patient with him would also warm his heart with you as well. he isn't the best with people, just in using his sword... which is why it's an anomaly to him if you stuck around for this long.

𐚁. indulging ellie on this one: sephiroth with a kitten. he probably is the one to adopt a kitten out of the two of you except what you didn't expect was him to basically mother the kitten. i think his wounds are still healing from the fact that the locket of his mother was torn away from him.. but you guys both loved that kitten very much, naming saikou which means radiance. it is the radiance of both of your lives and definitely a way to heal from your guys' pain, whatever it may be from your end but i know sephiroth suffers from loneliness and feeling not good enough. he feels this much less because of you though and of course, saikou. saikou is now your love rival... the kitty is his precious baby but you are his most prized treasure.

𐚁. while i said quality time is his favorite love language, i think that he likes physical affection as well since he never really knew what it's like to be loved. he wanted to learn though as well as learn to love you which led to teaching him how to cuddle. still very awkward, he's trying his very hardest as he pats your head and encases you into his body. eventually it led to couch cuddles every time he came home from work, he won't say it out loud but this is his favorite part of being able to be with you. he is so beyond smitten.

𐚁. as sephiroth had been in SOLDIER all of his life, he's not completely sure the best way to comfort you on many things but what he can do is to give you a better night! he'd come home with flowers since somehow zack had talked him into buying flowers from his girlfriend, what can i say? zack was a persuasive businessman and sephiroth had no clue how to be a good boyfriend. he'd probably panic if he couldn't make you feel better, he just wants you happy and would slay his enemies (those who wronged you). he'd indulge you in just about anything that you wanted to do between him trying on your favorite dress, self-care day with face masks, kisses all over to make you less insecure or just to feel more loved, an ice cream date, etc. you name it and it's done. he'd even sneak you into the training room on the SOLDIER floor to take you on a loving date with an even more beautiful sunset but all he could see was his sun, you.

𐚁. you already know his hair care routine since it was leaked from your mail, did i mention you were apart of sephiroth's fan club? he uses a WHOLE bottle of shampoo and conditioner. one day you had to braid his hair, adding in flowers to his hair as you braided it. he loved it since it kept his face clear for combat, meanwhile genesis and angeal snickered at him since his s/o made him look all pretty so none of his enemies would take him seriously. masamune said differently than his hair did. if somebody ruined the artwork of your braiding? they ALSO had a date with masamune.

𐚁. he doesn't like a lot of attention as many would say since he is so famous. this is the big question, how did you enter his life in comparison to the fangirls? you understood him. it was a new feeling for him and he didn't know how much he would end up loving it. no thirsting over how hot he was or saying how strong he had been. just a simple: "i know you've been working hard for so long, you deserve some rest," was enough to make him moved by you. nobody could compare to you in his innocent heart. he was so new to every experience, every hug, every kiss, and every touch you gave him. each time was something new that he had learned to love about you and eventually love about himself as well. you helped him to understand he was more than a monster, more than a soldier, more than just a test subject.

𐚁. what you hadn't expect is to find a loving sephiroth in the kitchen with you, holding you close to him as you listened to italian cooking music (the pasta addict in me thinks he'd want to learn more about pasta and its origin). his head was leaning down towards yours while staring down at your lips as you both had been swaying. his hand had been on your waist and the other had been moving up from your shoulder, over your neck slowly with care, to your soft cheek. capturing you in his lips, the water had boiled over but he didn't care at that moment. the thing he clung onto most was this moment because at this moment, sephiroth just knew. he was in love and he finally felt free as he deepened the kiss. he knew where home was and he was kissing his own home, taking in all of what makes you so lovable as well.

melukonova, 2024. 𐀔

#smash bros (🌿)#sephiroth x you #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth #ff7 x reader #ff7 #ffvii x reader #ngl i can appreciate sephiroth more now cause my bestie open my eyes to the beauty that is analyzing sephiroth

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savannahsdeath · 1 year

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Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #reqs open #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie fluff #fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie x reader fluff #ellie williams x reader fluff

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 1 month

Text

Beating Heart

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): None!

Notes: I was listening to "Beating Heart" by Ellie Goulding and "Breathe" by Michelle Branch on repeat while writing this. Feel free to consider this in the same universe as 'Knightmare In Toronto'.

Masterlist

The Fierce Deity's hair was long–almost too long than what you'd originally expected–and not nearly the unkept mess you thought it would be. The night was still young when he removed his long grey cap, stark strands flowing down his shoulders like a cooly-molten waterfall. The whole situation felt strangely intimate as you ran a hand through your own hair.

It is said hair holds memories, so what truths did his hold? Were they of battle? Of pain? Of love?

"You look surprised," the deity rumbled. His pupil less gaze offered a sort of gentle curiosity that you had become startlingly familiar with after the deer fiasco. "Why?"

"I thought your hair would be shorter," you answered honestly. "Not that there's anything bad about longer hair--"

"It is atypical," Fierce finished, eyeing you steadily from across the island, laden with ingredients. Baking had always been a comfort when sleep would not take you, though this was the first time you weren't alone with your thoughts in the silent kitchen, save for the grating scrapes as you mixed the dough with a fork. "I am in no need of coddling."

"I wasn't trying to," you dumped the chocolate chips in with more force than necessary. "Is long hair common where you come from?"

"It is neither common nor uncommon," the Fierce Deity's expression grew contemplative. "What of your world?"

"It's..." you hesitated before remember that he likely couldn't care less. "more common for men to have longer hair than it used to be, but most cut it."

"I see," your arm ached from all the mixing, but it was welcome. "Does it bother you?"

Your brow's furrowed. "That men cut their hair?" he nodded and you felt distinctly disappointed that he believed you cared of something so trivial. "Why would it? If I'm allowed to have my hair long, why shouldn't everyone else?"

The Fierce Deity inclined his head, gaze dropping to the bowl on the counter. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked chocolate, but the oven beeped shrilly and you rushed to scoop the cookies into the pan. As soon as the first batch was in, you yawned and slumped against the refrigerator. "I never did ask why you decided to come down, if you're in a sharing mood."

It was an honest question. He "slept" with the other boys in the guest room, yet somehow always knew when you scurried down to the kitchen to cook away the dark. You had nearly screamed the first time he walked in to inquire on whether the woods outside were your property (then disappeared for a worrying amount of time when you informed that yes, you owned more than fifty feet of fenced yard) but with habit brought comfort, and now it was hardly an inconvenience when he appeared behind you to... watch the cooking process? Daydream of war? You doubted you would ever figure out what was going on in that head of his, which was only mildly infuriating when he seemed to anticipate your every reaction.

"I do not know," was his honest answer to your honest question. "I am merely curious."

"...Of?"

Silence fell as the deity's eyes burned gentle, curious holes in you. You pushed yourself up and loaded the next tray with dough; it wouldn't do you any good to push this budding... whatever it was. Seconds later, the oven dinged in completion, and you laid the piping hot tray on the stove to cool. A delicious scent drifted forth from your creations, and it was surprising that nine more men weren't banging down the hallway for some. Though the cookies were still hot, you scooped up one with a spatula and offered it to him with a grin. "Want one?"

The Fierce Deity, forsaker of worlds and morals alike, took the offering with more delicacy than you thought him capable of, as if he was cradling a precious being rather than a misshapen blob of dough and chocolate. You took a cookie for yourself and began tucking in. Fierce, however, was motionless, staring intently at his hands.

"I do not understand you," he said, and you were inclined to say the same.

"You don't have to," you said through a mouthful of cookie. "You know what I don't understand? Why everything has to be understood."

"Knowledge is life," intoned the deity, though his tone held an air of hesitation. The cookie must have weighed a thousand pounds from how his hands seemed to tremble. "Without understanding, how are we to live?"

"You can live without understanding," you shot back. "I'm sure I'll never understand how you all ended up here, and don't you dare tell me this–" you gestured around you, expression firm and tone biting. "–isn't living."

The deity was silent, and your relief was more palpable than the chocolate on your tongue. You had no idea how or why you kept having these world-shattering conversations with Fierce, but it was a welcome break from the monotony of your life. Which is why you sighed, pinched your temples, and allowed your eyes to meet. "Listen, you don't have to have everything figured out, yanno? That's what Google is for."

It was a testament to the Fierce Deity's patience that you had made it this far with him, but maybe he didn't mind as much as your brain screamed he did. With bated breath, you watched him draw himself to full height, expression neutral. "Why do you defend ignorance?"

You snorted and helped yourself to another cookie. The others could kiss your ass. "I'm not defending it, I'm just saying that some knowledge is just as good as all knowledge. Aren't there things you wish you didn't know?"

"Every day," admitted the Fierce Deity, softening some. "I am a deity, I am born to discover."

"Then go discover," you shot him a small smile through a bite of cookie. "What are you waiting for?"

"I..." it was as if a switch had been flipped, and his expression grew despondent. For someone with no pupils, his eyes sure were expressive. "I do not know."

"Do you want to?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, unfounded and unbelieving.

"Do you want to discover?"

A beat passed.

"Yes."

Maybe it was the fact that it was two in the morning, or perhaps you were simply sick of surprises in life, but you grinned and gestured to the uneaten cookie in his large, battle-scarred hands. "Then I'd hope you find my baking worth discovering."

And the Fierce Deity did just that. You would forever remember the way his expression froze with the first bite he took; the cookie was gone before you managed to squeeze out another word, and it was just fine with you.

Wordlessly, you scraped another morsel from the pan and offered it forth. There was no hesitation from Fierce the second time around, and your hard work disappeared in two large bites.

It felt good to be right, you realized, but it felt even better to help.

"Better than deer, right?" You joked, already knowing the answer.

The deity nodded, looking just short of licking his fingers. You wouldn't have judged him either way. "You have skill," he said, and you almost fell over at the fact that an actual god had given you a direct compliment. "I have use for this skill."

You... had an idea of where this was going, so you shrugged and grabbed your cookbook, the pages stained from years of use and even more of love. "I was thinking... brownies next," you mused slowly, flipping to the correct page, the corners dotted with old batter, then turned your gaze to Fierce. "How about it?"

Though his face was no less stiff–an old habit, you presumed–you were quick to catch the upwards quirk of his pursed lips. With steps that seemed to shake the floor, he drew closer, practically caging you against the counter, expression going contemplative before shifting into something you could only describe as calculated mirth.

"I would like nothing more," the deity intoned softly, gaze fixed to yours. Though the air was thick with tension, you had never felt safer. It was strange, and it was expected; you had always known he wasn't the monster his looks portrayed him to be.

So, with a racing heart and flushed cheeks, you reached up to boop the tip of his nose. The deity blinked, and you could have laughed how quickly his face changed to one of surprise, never mind the fact that you were probably playing with fire at this point. "I'll teach you, but you're on high shelf duty!"

It was perfectly fair, he was over six and a half feet. With a chuckle, you ducked away to get more flour, throwing a cheeky grin over your shoulder at the starstruck deity. "Would you be a dear and grab some cacao powder?" He had seen you get it before, so you didn't bother telling him where it was.

It was almost funny how he seemed to scramble to get when you requested, but you held yourself back for fear of bruising his ego.

Sure, your kitchen looked like a terrible replica of the show Nailed It by the time dawn rolled around, and you discovered exactly why Fierce was a god of war, not gentle grip on bags of flour, but you had a feeling the journey would, and had already been, worth it.

I consumed an entire batch of chocolate chip cookies and wrote this, so please be gentle!

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #fierce deity x reader #loz fanfic #loz #fierce deity #fierce dadity

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justagalwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Gurll, lavender is my go-to reread everytime. Ig u are taking requests (😂🫶🏻), I would really like to see how Joel found out Doc was pregnant of Sylvie and those sweet pregnancy exchanges - like him being worried (‘cause in the original we skip the whole pregnancy). 😎

OMG Hi Bestie!!!

So you'll see some of this in Girl Dad, a canon one shot I did for Doc's birthday back in October. You see some of Doc panicking about Sylvie on her birthday because she's never made it further in a pregnancy and her birthday has just such an awful personal history for her and Joel loves her through it. We also see Joel being just a precious father to his newest baby girl.

BUT... here's some more of the pregnancy for you ❤️

Expecting

20 years after your first pregnancy, you find yourself expecting again. Things are a bit different this time. A Lavender Drabble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Warnings: Pregnancy. Smut adjacent. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI

Length: 2k

September 2, 2024

The first time you threw up, Joel was on patrol.

It's not like you'd gotten your period since the two of you had started trying but you didn't put much stock in that. You'd never been regular and you were nearing menopause now. Missing a period or two was hardly monumental.

But the nausea the morning you woke up alone was.

You rocketed to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet, everything left in you from the night before coming up.

"Shit," you whispered, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as your stomach still churned.

You knew this feeling. It had been a long time but you knew it.

And you knew you should be happy about it. It wasn't like last time. You and Joel were together now. Not just together, you were married. Things were secure - as secure as they could be in the apocalypse, anyway - and you were trying for this.

But it was still the apocalypse.

It was no small part of you that thought this wasn't going to happen. That you were going to try and try and then menopause would kick in and you'd never have a child you made with Joel. You'd resigned yourself to that a long time ago, that you'd never be a mother to someone that grew inside of you, never raise someone that you'd brought into being through love. You had Ellie who was your child in every way that mattered and that was more than enough.

But you were pregnant. You were sure of it. And you should have been happy about that - thrilled, in fact. Part of you was. The rest of you was terrified.

What had you been thinking? Bringing a child into this destroyed world? Would Joel even still want this now that it was real and not some imagined, idealized thing on the distant horizon? How were you supposed to protect a baby from the horrors of this reality? Even here in Jackson there was fear and risk and you'd gone and done this on purpose.

You didn't tell anyone, though the nurses at the clinic could tell you were off all day. You assured them that you were fine while trying not to panic. What if Joel changed his mind? What if, when faced with the reality of it, he didn't want to bring a baby into this world?

You threw up again that afternoon, the sickening feeling hanging around after everything came back up and you tried not to cry.

Joel got home after Ellie was already in bed that night, his patrol keeping him out late. You were pacing the kitchen when you heard the front door open and close quietly, the squeak of the floorboards under his heavy boots.

"Baby?" He frowned poking his head into the kitchen. "What're you still doin' up, it's late..."

"I know," you smiled a little, looking him up and down and taking stock to make sure he was still in one piece. "I'm glad you're back."

He smiled back, coming all the way into the kitchen to take you in his arms and kiss you, gentle and deep.

"You and me both," he said. "Gettin' too old to be sleeping rough like that, feel like I did my time with that shit getting out here..."

You laughed a little and nuzzled into him, breathing in the sweaty, woodsy scent of him.

"What's wrong, baby," he whispered, his arms enveloping you totally, holding you against him. "Can tell you got somethin' on that big brain of yours."

You pulled back from him just enough to see his face, his arms still holding you loosely. His face was smeared with dirt, the grime of the trail and sweat on his skin and his eyes were soft and warm and like home.

"I'm pregnant," you said softly. Those eyes got wider. "I know we've been trying but... It's real now and..."

"You're pregnant?" He breathed, stepping back from you, his hands going to your shoulders. You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "Oh Baby..."

He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, so hard you could taste the passion on his tongue.

"Really?" He asked, his eyes searching yours as he pulled back from you and taking your shoulders again. You just nodded again, your heart pounding. "Fuck, that's... that's amazing, we're gonna... Baby, you're pregnant!"

"Yeah," you laughed a little. "Yeah, I am... You're happy?"

"Happy?" He laughed back. "Baby, I'm... I'm so far beyond fuckin' happy that word don't even begin to cover it."

He got to his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips, sliding around to cradle the small of your back as he looked lovingly at your stomach.

"You're pregnant," he said, awed, almost to himself. He pressed a kiss to you, over your womb, before one of his hands came to hold you reverently there. "Our baby is in you, right now."

"Yeah," you smiled, voice wet. "Yeah, they are."

"That's amazing," he whispered before looking up at you. "You're amazing, you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen..."

You ran your fingers through his curls before cupping his cheek.

"Thank you," you said, your whole being feeling lighter now, knowing that he was really in this with you.

"For what?" He asked, getting to his feet and pulling you against him again. "You're the one doin' all the work."

You smiled a little.

"For wanting this with me," you said quietly. "I was afraid... I'm still afraid. But we can do this."

"We can do this," he echoed you, kissing your temple. "You, me, Ellie, this baby. We're a family. We can do this."

You put a palm over your womb again, cradling where the child you'd made with Joel was growing inside you.

He was right. You could do this.

But things were different after that.

Joel hovered. It reminded you a bit of when he first came to the QZ, back when he thought his fear was something he could push past if he just got close enough. You’d be working at the clinic, turn around to pick something up and then Joel would be there. You’d be relaxing on the couch and decide you needed a cup of water and, the second you started to move, he was up instead asking what you needed.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, you know,” you said a two months after you’d told him you were pregnant and Joel had damn near held you down instead of letting you go to the kitchen. “Also capable of walking to the mess hall on my own, making my own lunches…”

“All the work you’re doin’ growing my baby, I should do something,” he replied, bringing you a glass of water. “Seems like this is the least of it.”

You might have believed him if it wasn’t for the other things, too.

You’d become insatiable during pregnancy, all but demanding sex at least once if not twice a day. You couldn’t get enough of Joel but he seemed to be able to get enough of you.

It was close to Christmas when you finally brought it up, Joel’s hands more gently roaming over your skin rather than with any desire or need.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not interested, you know,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Joel frowned, looking over your face for a moment.

“What?” He sounded completely puzzled. “Why would I not be interested?”

“I know I look different now,” you ran a hand over your growing bump and took a deep breath. “It’s OK if you’re not as attracted to me at the moment…”

“In what fuckin’ universe am I not attracted to you?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Baby, if I could spend the rest of my damn life inside you, I’d be a happy man.”

Your confusion must have shown because he brushed your hair back before adjusting your face to look at him.

“What’s goin’ on,” he asked gently. “Why are you saying this stuff.”

“You don’t touch me like you used to,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t sound too wounded by it. “And it’s OK if you don’t want me like that right now, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t really want and…”

“Baby,” he cut you off. “I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now. Not when I first met you and you were some hot young thing, not when you first got off the plane to come visit, not when I first saw you again in the QZ. Seeing you grow our baby is the most beautiful, most sexy thing in the damn world, don’t go thinking otherwise.”

“Oh,” you frowned. “Then… I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“I just…” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you again, a pained look on his face. “I’m scared, baby. I’m scared in a way I ain’t been since we came to Jackson.”

“Joel,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “We’re OK here, we’re safe here…”

“I know,” he said. “You’re safe from infected and you’re safe from raiders but… baby, what if you get hurt? You’re the doctor here, what if something happens to you or the baby? What if there isn’t someone who knows how to save you? What if I do somethin’ to you on accident, what if I’m too rough because I’m caught up in touching you the way I want? I can’t risk that, baby, I can’t.”

“Oh Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer. “You’re not going to hurt us. I promise, you’ve never been too rough with me. If something doesn’t feel right I’ll tell you but it’s OK. We’re safe. You’re safe.” You guided his hand to your breast, his large palm curving around the soft flesh. “And I want you to touch me, really touch me. Please.”

He was cautious at first, hesitant. Now that you knew he was afraid, it was easier to see it on his face and feel it in his touch. But you guided him through it, holding his hand, reassuring him, until he was lost in you and things felt right for the first time in months.

You learned how to head things off after that. When he would appear in the clinic, you would give him a kiss and tell him how you were feeling. If the baby was moving, you’d guide his hand to your stomach to let him feel them alive inside you. When you needed something at home and could see that he was restless and distracted by worry, you’d ask him for help. You started meeting him at the gates after patrol so he could see you and touch you as soon as he was back, feeling how he relaxed when his hands were on you.

When you went into labor, though, you were worried. You knew he was afraid but then, so were you. You were afraid not just of what could happen, of how it would hurt under the best of circumstances, but of how to help Joel through it, too.

But he sensed what you were doing right away, so in tune with you now. He climbed into the bed behind you, pulling you back so your head was resting on his chest.

“Don’t you dare worry about me,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby. Got both of you.”

You smiled a little as the contraction eased and he held you a little tighter.

“I know you do,” you relaxed into the firm, strong body of your husband. “I know.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #lavender #lavenderversary

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nariism · 1 year

Text

i loved you on a moonlit summer night

pair. diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader

content: tooth-rotting fluff, love at first sight, allusions to reincarnation but no actual instances of reincarnation

synopsis. diluc knows that he doesn't belong in mondstadt anymore. he doesn't belong anywhere— no place to truly call home and nothing in this world but vengeance in his heart. but on a wintery day on dragonspine, he finds his salvation: a box of cecelias, a fire seelie, and the owner of the best flower shop in the city.

wc. 8.4k

a/n: thank you to my beautiful @hyomagiri for beta reading, helping edit and hyping this fic up to the max. i ended up feeling confident enough to post this because of her, three cheers for ellie i love you to the moon and back <3

WINTER

It wasn’t his fault. How was he supposed to know that buried beneath blankets of snow and sheets of ice, there would be Cecelias?

Fire seelies are usually reliable with a bounty of treasure waiting at the end of their path. He isn't sure why it led him here, to some inconspicuous pile of snow which he hastily melted without realizing there was something precious hidden within.

The mistake doesn’t register with Diluc until the sweet scent of flowers and ash and burning wood wafts under his nose. He blinks in confusion at the pile, perfectly burnt to a crisp and resting at the tip of his boots.

Boxed up flowers? What are they doing out in the middle of the mountain?

He remembers then, a story someone once told him— he can't put a name to the voice but it echoes in the hollow chambers of his heart:

"Did you know that you can preserve the freshness of flowers? All you have to do is box them up nice and tight and store them in the snow."

It's an interesting tidbit of information. He can't for the life of him remember where he heard it from, though.

Wind howls in his ears, powdery snow from over the horizon plowing down the mountainside and into his face. It doesn't deter him from examining the scene. The fire seelie floats just above his shoulder, quiet now as it looks at the pile.

He’s entirely distracted by the sight, unsure of what to make of the strange discovery, until he hears the crunch of snow behind him. With the Fatui lingering around the foot of the mountain, he expects to whip around and face an enemy. He even braces himself to be knocked off his feet by a wild boar.

Instead, his sudden movement frightens you and makes you stumble back until you fall flat onto the ground.

There’s a long pause of silence that stuffs the air, neither you nor him tearing your eyes away from each other. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, so still that it looks like you've succumbed to the frozen climate of the mountain. He breathes a slow sigh of relief when a wavering exhale leaves your lips in the form of a puff of cloudy air.

The heart resting in his chest stirs. An ancient dull ache, thrumming in the depths of his body as he looks at you in surprise.

Again, there's a voice in his ear. This time, he recognizes it as his father:

"Your mother? I fell in love at first sight."

Growing up, he never quite understood that string of words. First sight? How could someone fall in love at first sight?

Diluc Ragnvindr is a million things, but romantic is not one of them. Love at first sight is a silly fairytale that parents tell their children to tuck them into bed. It's something that could never exist in such a cruel world, plagued by monsters and evil.

It's easy for him to close his heart off to the idea of something as ridiculous as love at first sight, despite the way his eyes haven't left yours. And he's painfully aware of the way you're looking at him too, but he does his best to ignore your gawking.

Maybe he's catching a cold. He doesn't feel well all of the sudden.

Your gaze drifts to the pile of ash just behind him and you sigh, putting your head into your hands wet from snow.

"You found my seelie," you murmur, sounding very unimpressed. He blinks at you until you continue, "Those were important, you know. They were for a very special occasion."

Diluc takes in your form, clothes thin and unfit for the snowy conditions of Dragonspine. Even without the chilly altitude of the mountain, this winter in general was particularly bitter. He almost wants to scold you for dressing so thoughtlessly, even though he doesn't know your name.

"My apologies. I will reimburse you whatever the cost, and more."

"It's... not about that," you tell him from your place on the ground, still not looking at him. You seem stressed. His heart squeezes terribly.

"Not about what?"

"Mora."

He falls silent, so quiet that you finally peer up at him wondering whether or not he's even still standing there. And he is, regarding you with a thoughtful expression. His presence is so unnoticeable despite being right in front of you that it makes your skin crawl.

"How can I make it up to you?" He asks, extending his hand for you to take. Your clothes are soaked through already, cold and frozen from the subzero temperature. It doesn't help soothe his worries that he can feel a storm coming. He should get you out of here as soon as possible.

You huff, allowing him to drag you to your feet. It's then that you realize how warm he is, almost hot to the touch. The faint glimmer of a Vision dangles on his hip. Your eyes flicker back to his and he nearly jolts out of his skin.

"Don't worry about it. It's alright," you tell him though you sound disingenuous about it. You're obviously distracted, probably wondering how to explain to your client that their expensive flowers ended up as a pile of ash.

"It was my mistake. Please, let me know if there's anything at all I can do," he replies earnestly.

"Really, it's fine," you sound slightly exasperated by his stubbornness. If it were anyone ordinary, they would have taken your mercy and left you to freeze on the mountain without a second thought.

Diluc Ragnvindr is no ordinary man.

It takes him a moment to realize his hand is still gripping yours rather tightly. He recoils with an awkward cough.

“What are you doing out here in the mountains?” He asks. It dawns on him then what a stupid question it is, since you’ve obviously come to collect your frozen flowers. You tell him anyways:

"I buried some flowers further up the mountain a few days ago," you sigh, "not sure if I can find them anymore, though. That's why I've been following this little one around."

You scratch under the seelie's chin. Well, where you would imagine its chin to be, at least. It seems thrilled by the affection.

"It's going to storm soon. You should head back down the mountain and try again later."

"It's urgent," you insist, ready to brush past him and continue the trek up.

He stops you with your wrist in his hand. "Then please, let me accompany you to the top of the mountain. It isn't safe with the Fatui lingering around. It's the least I could do."

You eye him hesitantly, but then your shoulders relax and you sigh again. "Okay, okay. We should hurry and get out of here, then."

He wordlessly follows you up the trail, watching your movements carefully. While you don't seem suspicious, he can never be too sure when it comes to the Fatui. Save for the rustling of pine trees and the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots, empty silence fills the air.

It drives him crazy. So crazy that he decides to speak.

"What's your name?"

The name that leaves your lips makes him smile. He can only think that it really does suit you.

"My name is–"

"Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr, right?"

Heat creeps up to his cheeks. Of course you know who he is. He's the most famous person in all of Mondstadt, for Archon's sake.

"I've seen you around the city," you quickly explain, awkwardly fumbling over your words. "And at festivals and such."

Before he can dwell too much on it, your seelie chirps— once, twice, three times as it dives into the snow and slowly melts it away. You suddenly halt in your steps, crouching down to sift through the remainder. An exhale of relief leaves you when you dig out a box, intact and frozen to the touch.

He looks on in curiosity. Your hand brushes the snow off the top of the box and you open it, revealing another couple dozen Cecelias.

"Thank goodness..." and your seelie seems to agree, because it dances around your head with a pleased noise.

You're too busy admiring the flowers to realize the snow has kicked up. He's too busy admiring you to notice, either. It isn't until the seelie dips in front of your face with a panicked garble that you finally tear your eyes away from your box of flowers.

"It started to snow..."

Diluc's gaze drifts from you to the darkening sky. It's much too late to make your way down the mountain. In his time in Snezhnaya he learned one very important rule of surviving the cold: you can't outrun snow.

Your seelie leads you to a small cave in a section of rock, covered in starsilver and crystalflies. There isn't any kindling to make a fire, and he isn't willing to brave this type of storm just for some wood.

Diluc shrugs his coat off his shoulders and wraps it around your shoulders in a single motion. Heat envelops you, warmer than the fire seelie that guided you through the mountains. It’s a warmth that fills you from the pit of your stomach all the way to the tips of your fingers.

The seelie floats between you, trying to do its best to keep the both of you in its light.

It's comfortable and quiet for a while— not a peep from either of you as you listen to the howling of wind and snow outside.

How did Diluc ever end up here?

Bad luck, karma, anything that would explain why he ended up snowed in atop Dragonspine with you— anything at all other than it was in the stars' design that he be with you right here and now. Fate mocks him.

Even worse, there's a voice in his head telling him that this is exactly where he needs to be right now. He's getting a migraine.

Diluc watches you sift through the remaining ashes of the burnt box, trying to see if there's anything you can salvage. Unfortunately, Diluc's Pyro vision was only good for combat and keeping you warm at this moment.

"I'm... really sorry," he says again, looking away sheepishly. He can't bear to look at the disappointment furrowing in your brows.

The sound of a sigh echoes in the cave, and he finally manages to look at you. To his surprise, you're only staring back at him with soft eyes: no contempt, no anger, no disappointment. It makes his heart sink, not only with guilt, but also because there's just something so sweet about you that it makes him want to hold you closer.

"It's okay. At least a majority of them survived. It'll be plenty."

"If you don't mind me asking, what were they for?"

"A bouquet for a wedding. The bride specifically asked for Cecelias, since it was the first bouquet he ever gifted her," there's a fondness on your face that makes him snort. You look at him funny. "What? It's romantic."

"They're just flowers. What's so sentimental about that?"

"They're not just flowers," you frown, scooting a little closer into his side to soak up more of his heat. The fire seelie's light flickers against your face. "Cecelias only grow in extremely windy places. They're illustrious and elegant, even after growing in such harsh conditions. Isn't that just..." you smile at him, slow and warm. "It's beautiful."

Diluc considers your explanation for a moment, tugging his coat around your shoulders tighter. "I suppose so."

"You suppose?" You laugh. "My my, I didn't know Diluc Ragnvindr was so down-to-earth when it comes to romance."

Your laugh is doing terrible things to him. There's something about it that reminds him of the days he spent wandering the Winery as a boy with Kaeya in tow. The nights he would spend catching crystalflies. Times long since passed. He suddenly aches to be back among the grapevines.

"I don't indulge in that sort of thing."

He never could, so long as there was something ugly and bitter and tainted in his heart.

"You've never fallen in love?"

"Not once."

Love like that doesn't exist. Not in a world like this.

He repeats what he believed was true, chants the mantra in his head until he's dizzy as if trying to convince himself that he isn't already lost in you. The warm orange glow of the seelie dances in your eyes, lights up your smile in a way that makes his stomach turn.

I fell in love at first sight. They were words that he couldn't understand until today.

"Is that so?" You muse, slotting your head in the space between his jaw and shoulder. He doesn’t move away. "You're an unusual man, Diluc."

"Maybe I am."

But he knows that the moment he met you, everything was about to change. You don't even dignify him with a glance as you say it:

"Let's fall in love, then."

The demand is simple and he's absolutely positive you're joking. Something in his soul tugs anyway. He swears one thing at that moment: someway, somehow, he'll make it all up to you.

You are, after all, the first person to remind him of home in a long time. Every aspect of you is so comforting and familiar, even if he can't quite place his finger on it yet.

You reach out to pet your seelie, even though you know your hand will phase through it. "You sure did lead me to some strange treasure, hm?"

It trills happily with a little twirl.

Diluc meets you in winter, in the valley between the peaks of Dragonspine. He meets you, and it smells of burnt wood and ash and Cecelias. It's so cold that you can't feel your fingers but you're smiling in the afterglow of a seelie nonetheless, and so is he.

SPRING

He learns that you own the little flower shop at the edge of Mondstadt, just within the front gates of the city.

You're teaching a young girl, Flora, how to nurture them. And he finds it a little endearing, the way you're so gentle not only with Flora but with the flowers you're showing her: daisies and tulips and Windwheel Asters, all of which are in season right now.

Diluc recognizes you when you open back up for spring, surrounded by boxes stuffed with fresh bouquets. You seem to be in a rush getting organized, holding a stack of boxes instead of taking them one by one and clumsily scattering them around so you can go through them.

He stops you by stepping in front of you, two hands on either side of the stack to steady them as you stumble to a halt.

"Diluc?" You peer from around the boxes. He can only see your curious eyes from this angle. He laughs.

"Sorry to interrupt you when you're so busy. Do you need help?"

"Well–" you do a little hop to straighten up the boxes in your arms, "–it would be nice to have an extra set of hands getting everything ready for the Windblume Festival." You contemplate his offer for a brief moment, then ultimately decide against it. "But I would hate to steal you away from your other responsibilities. You're helping with the festival too, right?"

"I owe you one. Think of this as a favour from a friend," he refutes stubbornly.

"I'm sure many would be missing the help of Diluc Ragnvindr," you tease, shifting around so that your body tilts toward him.

It's then that he can finally look at you fully, with a soft orange apron tied around your waist and Windwheel Asters in your hair to match.

One day, you would go on and explain to him that it was sort of like advertising, and that showing off how nice the blooms look as an accessory brought in a lot of business. Right now all it does is render him breathless.

"They can afford to miss me.” He can't help the smile that creeps its way onto his face at the sight of you— he feels silly about it too, like some lovesick little boy.

You hand off the boxes into Diluc's arms. "Can they? I heard you were supplying all of the wine for the festival. That's a tall order," you giggle, bending down to grab another two boxes of flowers.

"It's... manageable," he answers, making a mental note to himself to buy Adelinde dinner some time as a thank you. "What about you? What are all these boxes for?"

"We're holding a flower gifting service in the plaza, on the night of the big party." He looks at you curiously as you continue, "You can send someone you care for a flower or two, or you can send them anonymously if you just wanted to make someone's day!"

"Sounds..."

You smile knowingly. "Romantic?"

Diluc places the boxes down on the ground and pries the lids off, revealing more and more ready-to-bloom flowers. "Yeah. Romantic," he sighs.

"These will all be in full bloom in time for the festival.” You lean down behind him where he's crouched down, until your chin is nearly resting on his shoulder. He's sure his breath hitches so loud that you can hear it.

The following weeks entail complete mayhem. With the end of spring rapidly approaching, excitement buzzes throughout the city. Notably, he overhears many talking about your business and the new flower gifting service.

The Windblume Festival is a special time for Diluc. His father used to take him and Kaeya as children, back when the world was a little happier. On the night of the festival, he stands at the booth contemplating. Unlike a majority of the citizens of Mondstadt, he has not a clue who to give a flower to. Flora frowns.

"Um, mister, are you ever going to write a name down?"

The quill halts just above the piece of paper. "I don't have to sign my name, do I?"

"You can send it as a secret."

Diluc looks up from where he's bent over, observing you from a few feet away. You're conversing with some ladies who are interested in your bouquets. It was a good business idea to do something like this.

He only meant to support your idea as a friend. Now he's conflicted on whether or not he should dare to write your name.

You look absolutely radiant tonight with magical crystal chunks strewn about your hair and a crown of flowers circling your head. He isn't sure he's ever seen someone so beautiful.

He finally decides. When you turn back around to give him your attention, he's gone.

He's sure that will be the end of it, and that after tonight your brief and strange relationship with him will come to an end. But then you come bounding up to him just as he's about to head out.

"Look! A flower!" You exclaim, shoving it into his face. He's pleased that you like the one he picked out for you.

"Yes, I see that. It's nice."

"Nice? Nice?! It's adorable! I've never gotten one before."

He looks at you funny. "Never?"

"Nope," you laugh sheepishly. "I don't really get out much. Too busy running the shop."

He takes the flower from your hands and tucks it just behind your ear, adding it amongst the crown of Asters surrounding you like a halo.

"It suits you.”

"Does it?" You ask him quietly.

His heart beats furiously. How could he ever steel himself when you have such a big smile on your face, adorned with flowers and gemstones?

"Will you dance with me?" The question leaves him before he can stop it. You look at him in wonder, with his fingers brushing the hair from your face. Whatever evil overtakes him in that moment, he'll have to thank later, because without hesitation you're dragging him into the middle of the plaza with glee.

You come to learn that he isn't exactly what you'd call an elegant dancer. He only knows movements that he learned at banquets held by his family— basic steps born from obligation.

"I thought you'd be better at this," you tease, allowing him to pull you along by the waist.

"I don't dance," he huffs. "I haven't in a long time."

"We should dance together more, then."

Diluc sighs, but there's a tiny smile spreading across his face. "I guess we should."

"This flower... do you know what it represents?" You gesture to the bloom tucked behind your ear. He shakes his head and you continue, "It means everlasting love."

He laughs at the irony.

"I see. How... fetching."

"I wonder who it was," you smile to yourself. He thinks you look breathtaking.

Diluc's lips curl at your joy. He twirls you under his arm once, twice, then pulls you back into his body as he considers your words.

"Yes, I wonder who," he mutters with an amused expression that you just barely miss. And he knows exactly who, but he's not sure if he could handle seeing you melt into a lovestruck puddle at his admission.

Diluc dances with you in spring, under the warm glow of lanterns and the taste of grape juice staining his tongue. He dances with you, and it smells of the Windwheel Asters that crown your head and mint jelly on your breath.

He tugs you a little closer, just because.

SUMMER

If you were to ask Diluc how he felt about these big "charity" events, he would scoff in your face and lecture you about how they were nothing more than money traps set up by the Knights of Favonius.

He would say it purely out of spite, of course, mostly because he knows Jean is too kindhearted to allow for such shady business. Openly, at least.

His distaste for the Knights and all they stand for are not hidden deep in his heart. He sneers when there's a casualty— mocks their inefficiency at any given opportunity.

You never knew him to be such a bitter man when it came to the Knights. Diluc was good at keeping up his polite and indifferent charade to their practices.

It wasn't until the beginning of summer when you realized his loathing. It was their own incompetence that led a horde of slimes directly into the city, nearly smashing your little shop to bits.

You've never seen him so furious.

Outwardly, he was simply curt with them. He had only a few choice words lined up when they apologized with their heads hung low, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest.

Inwardly, you could see the anger swimming in his eyes.

That was three weeks ago. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to think that just three weeks ago, they were leading danger straight into your shop and now here they are, asking you to donate to their cause.

"You're sulking," you tell him from across the table. He immediately sits up straight, jaw relaxing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know," you smile at him, moving one of your pawns forward, "I think the Knights are happy you're here. Relieved, at the very least, that you don't seem mad at them anymore."

He only frowns whilst knocking your pawn over with a bishop. "I wasn't mad at them."

"You were. Even I could tell."

"They almost got you hurt."

"Almost," you remind him with a small huff. "They were just slimes! No harm no foul."

You make a fatal move, but he doesn't even gloat because he's too busy cursing out the Knights in his head.

"I just find it in poor taste that they would ask for your hard-earned Mora after endangering you like that." He shrugs you off nonchalantly, as if you can't see the fire blazing in his eyes at the mere thought of it.

You blink at the chessboard as he checkmates you, slumping back in your seat with a tiny pout. "Once again, you've bested me."

"It seems I have," he says, lips finally twitching up into a small smile.

"Don't you ever get tired of beating me at this game? I sure do."

"That's a shame. Same time tomorrow?"

He watches with a laugh as you grumble in irritation. You can't help but notice how quiet it is, even over the chatter of the people in the plaza. There's something off about him today.

It's clear that he doesn't want to be here, volunteering his time to the Knights for a cause he has no faith in. It was a favour for Jean, he told you, to which you mused that he owed a lot of friends favours.

To be a noble in Mondstadt, and especially the wealthiest, Diluc is obligated to attend all sorts of gatherings he detests. You can see it written all over his face.

"Hey," you call out to him softly, leaning over the table. Your voice is a hush as you tell him: "Let's get out of here."

He glances around. "I'm expected to be here, you know?” He laughs once more, though he seems to be considering your offer. He decides to indulge you. "Where would you like to go?"

You think for a moment, brows furrowed. He watches the minute twitch of your lips, the creases of your smile; everything about you is so alive and beautiful.

Then, you point. You point high, with a breathless giggle.

"There," you say, gesturing toward the giant statue of Barbatos, "let's go up there."

He almost flat out rejects you, wanting to scold you about how dangerous it would be and that, for someone without a vision, you sure do have the gall to even suggest it.

But then he sees the excitement twinkling in your eyes, which are already scrunched up from how big your smile is. How could he refuse?

Diluc ends up trailing behind you, inconspicuously hugging his coat close to his body. You don't realize why until you're standing at the feet of the statue.

You gasp at the bottle of wine tucked into his coat. "Did you steal that?"

"The Winery provided all of this. I would hardly consider it stealing," he chuckles.

You nudge him with your elbow, a grin on your face as you accept the bottle into your hands. "I didn't know you were so sly, Diluc."

"I used to do this all the time when I was a kid."

"Steal wine bottles?" You look at him with wide eyes and an impressed smile.

"The maids forbade me from drinking at the Winery's banquets. Try telling a thirteen year old boy not to do something, see what happens," he huffs in amusement.

"You don't even like wine," you remind him. Diluc only hums in response, grabbing it and stuffing it back into his coat as he takes his first leap up the stone.

"Consider it a gift.” He twists around so he can look down at you where you stand, watching him with a mixture of fascination and horror.

His hand extends to yours. For as many times in this life as he is willing to offer it, you would take it.

He helps haul you up to the very top, barely breaking a sweat as he watches you climb beside him. After all, he withstood countless adversaries in his time in Snezhnaya: climbed mountains as tall as the sky with nothing but his claymore.

When you ask how he's so calm about this, he only tells you that he used to climb to the roof of the manor when he was a boy.

He had a lot of secrets kept caged up in his body, you realized many months ago. Diluc was never too vocal about his time before he returned to Mondstadt.

You do remember, however, that at the banquet they threw for him to celebrate his return home, he seemed cold and indifferent to the warm welcome. In fact, it was like his mind was entirely elsewhere. You can picture the day well— it was the largest order of flowers you'd ever received after all.

You're glad he's settled back into Mondstadt, at least. You just never thought you'd have a chance to actually meet him.

He watches as you nervously teeter over to the edge of the statue, peering down with a nervous gulp. You relax when his hands steady you, gently guiding you to sit down in a more safe position.

"I've never been so high up off the ground!" You cry out toward the city, feet dangling over the edge of the Archon's hands.

"It's nice, isn't it? Much different than the kind of heights you feel on Dragonspine."

You take in a long breath of fresh air, as if savouring the wind at this height. "It's pretty.” You finally conclude. There's a dreamy sigh on your lips that makes him laugh.

He uncorks the bottle he lugged up with him, passing it over to you. Instead of taking it, your head tilts back and he takes the opportunity to pour the wine past your lips himself.

Silence festers between you two as he pours the sweet alcohol into your mouth, all rational thought being carried away by the wind.

He isn't sure how long you stay that way: shoulders touching, hair blowing, and feet dangling in the air. For someone who wanted to climb the statue to see the city, you sure are being shameless in your staring directly at him.

You're looking at him in a way that makes him melt— eyes so laser focused and crinkling with your smile. You look at him like he's the only person in the world. Right now, he might really be that important. His heart swells in his chest.

"What is it?" Speak your mind. Let me hear all your crazy thoughts.

"You came all the way up here with me. You came up here. With me."

You emphasize your point by extending your arms out to your sides, feeling the breeze wash over you.

He knows what’s coming next. You love clichés. And he doesn't stop you, for some reason, when you open your mouth again just as he predicted.

"I think I'm falling for you."

"I would hope not. We're pretty high up in the air."

You swat his arm with a huff, face turning a little more serious. "I mean it!"

Diluc grows quiet, looking out toward the city. His home. The place he grew up, and the place he'll spend the rest of his days. The distant sound of people chattering, water flowing from the fountain, music playing: all sounds he's grown so familiar with and yet—

"I love you."

—he never thought it could be so beautiful until he climbed up here with you.

"You love a lot of things," he muses.

"Like what?"

He looks at you softly. "Like Cecelias. Mondstadt hashbrowns for breakfast. And you say you hate the cold but I know you love it up in Dragonspine— think it looks so pretty with all the snow."

You nod, mulling over his statement before asking: "What else?"

"I know you love that orange apron; Flora's mother sewed it for you herself, didn't she? And you love Anemo slimes, think they're the cutest thing in the world even though I've seen them explode in your face multiple times before."

You're listening to him intently, watching his lips as he lists off all the things he knows about you. And he's been going for so long that you have to wonder if you've really only known him for eight months.

"You love Starfell Lake and making wishes while you blow away Dandelion seeds. You love fire seelies and tea imported from Liyue and going to charity events like this even though you don't owe the Knights any of your time."

Another silence settles between you.

"So I'm a romantic. Even then, you still won't accept that I love you?" You ask him quietly.

He hesitates only for a moment, but you still catch it. "I won't."

"What is it with you and your cynicism about romance?"

"It's not like I don't believe love exists—" He’s looking at you right now, after all: living, breathing proof that Diluc could love something. "—I just... it's not for me."

"Not for you?" You repeat back to him in disbelief. "Love is beautiful, you know. You don't even want to give it a chance?"

You're looking at him earnestly, both hands pressed against the stone of the statue beneath you as you twist to stare him down.

"It's complicated," he murmurs, tearing his eyes away from yours. In his peripherals, he can still see you facing him. He doesn't dare look at you again for the sake of his own resolve.

Love was always a messy emotion for Diluc. To love was to trust completely, to be vulnerable and open. But he's been betrayed one too many times for his heart not to ache at the idea of falling in love so willingly.

It terrifies him— to have someone holding his heart in their hands with the chance that they could crush it into dust with the snap of their fingers.

Diluc was alone for many years in the northern region of Snezhnaya. He's good at being lonely. It's a part of the air he breathes, something engraved deep into his bones, terrible and grim and consuming his flesh until he's nothing.

He hadn't even realized he had grown accustomed to it. Not until he met you. Not until you stole his heart at first sight. Not until you made him understand all those times his father would speak of his mother once she was gone. It was always easier to be alone until he met you, and suddenly you came along and flipped the whole world onto its head.

Now Diluc can't be alone— he was losing the ability to sit in solitary silence without his thoughts screaming in his ears. He was constantly thinking about you. And it was always distracting things, like wondering when he would see your smile next, or when you would ever dance with him again.

Your head falls against his shoulder, hair tickling under his chin as you rest there. As if it were a remnant of eons past, his lips find the crown of your head reflexively. And you don't pull away by any means, allowing him to be affectionate the only way he can and accepting him as he comes.

The words don't need to be said anymore. He already knows. It's a story rewritten a million times over, buried somewhere deep in his soul.

He decides that maybe, just once in this life, it would be okay to take the risk. If it was you, he would be alright.

His arm comes around your waist protectively, pulling you closer into his body as if you'd disappear with the wind if he let go. He holds you there quietly, listening to your soft murmurs.

Diluc Ragnvindr deserves to be loved, is what you're telling him.

And despite the scars littering his body and the chains wrapped around his heart, he allows himself to believe it.

Diluc loves you in the summer, in the hands of the Anemo Archon. He loves you, and it smells of Dandelion Wine and the lingering scent of sweet flowers in your hair and all the things that make him dream of you.

For the first time since he returned to Mondstadt, he doesn't feel alone.

AUTUMN

It's the anniversary.

Diluc remembers the day too well— the smell of blood and flesh and how cold a corpse is. Sometimes it's all he can think about.

He cried when his father passed, as all boys would. Then, a fire replaced the hollow sadness in his heart, something fierce and dangerous and unhinged.

Fierce and dangerous and unhinged. Descriptors that he would consider second nature to him behind closed doors of the Tavern and hidden in the grapevines of the Winery. No one would ever know the real Diluc Ragnvindr, hellbent on vengeance since he was only a boy crying at his father's grave.

It wasn't until you came along that he felt something new blooming within him— something like beautiful flowers and a heartbeat slow and steady as waves on the shore, a yearning so powerful that it displaced the ugly bitterness in his heart.

Nowadays, Diluc felt like a confusing mixture of both light and darkness— treading the thin line that separated him from living in the moment with you, and seeking revenge for the past.

He doesn't realize the conflict within him has been bubbling into a raging fire, tearing him in half from the inside out, until today.

He talked to you about his father once, over a plate of sugar-frosted slime and Liyue imported jasmine tea. It was a day like any other, with you seated across from him having an afternoon snack.

My father liked sugar-frosted slime, he told you. It was the first time he'd ever let it be known that Crepus was on his mind, ever so present. A ghost haunting him. You didn't think much of it. Diluc seemed perfectly content living through his memories.

It was coincidence that brought you here on the exact day the world lost Crepus. Or, perhaps, the nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to get out of bed and come here.

Your son is a wonderful man, is what you first whispered to the grave. And then you couldn't stop the words from pouring out of you, rambling on and on about how he raised a good boy, and how Diluc had taken your heart the moment you laid eyes on him.

He finds you sitting there in the rain with a sad excuse for an umbrella popped up above your head. His father's grave is adorned with flowers of all kinds— a respect that no one had ever paid him before.

You don't realize how much you move him with such a simple act. He had long since lost faith both in the Knights and the citizens that once looked up to his father so much; after all, it was only he and Kaeya who ever came around to visit.

It's not until he crumbles to his knees beside you that you even notice his tears, your smile fading as he looks at you in confusion.

You're not sure you've ever seen Diluc cry before.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, head tilting into your palm when you reach forward to wipe his tears with your thumb.

"Saying hello," you respond as if it's the obvious answer.

"You... huh?"

"It would be rude to fall in love with you without at least introducing myself first."

"You didn't have to do—" Diluc gestures to the grave, "—all this."

You smile. "I wanted to.” And the truth is as simple as that.

You were too good for this world. Something beautiful in a place where only ugliness lives. He almost hates how much hope you give him.

The world was always black and white for Diluc. Recently, he's been finding it hard to distinguish the two.

There was right and there was wrong and there you were teetering between them, balancing hope and despair. It scared him to think of all the ways he could lose you, how he could one day end up bringing flowers to a grave with your name on it just as you did for his father.

What's the point of love if all it ends with is hurt?

He's sniffling, trying to chew on his bottom lip to distract himself from the ache in his chest. You notice his sudden quietness, turning to look at him.

"Hey.” Your voice is soft, as if he would shatter if you even spoke to him wrong right now. He might. "It's just me. It's okay."

"I don't cry. I hate crying," he admits through his tears.

He can't remember when he had cried last. Was it the day he came home? Or was it longer, like during those lonely nights spent hiding away in the mountains? The only vivid memory he has with tears staining his cheeks was the day his father died.

"You don't have to be ashamed of crying," you tell him, using your thumbs to wipe his lashes. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm Diluc Ragnvindr. I'm not supposed to cry."

"You're Diluc Ragnvindr," you repeat back slowly, pulling his head toward you and cradling it against your shoulder. "You're human. What's wrong with that?"

Diluc doesn't feel human. He hasn't felt human in a long time. He's been something more like a ghost wandering around the places he used to love. Memories tainted by hatred and grief, it was as if he would never find beauty in this world again.

"I'm not," he breathes. "I'm not anything."

You pry him off of you. He blinks at you through his tears.

"Do you really believe that?"

He goes quiet, only staring at you as he soaks in your earnest eyes.

"I don't know what I am. I don't know what to do in this world anymore."

He's a mess of emotions— he almost wishes he were back in Snezhnaya where everything made sense. Where his entire existence was built up of seeking retribution. To a time when he knew where he belonged.

Diluc Ragnvindr only ever knew revenge. Only ever knew how to inflict pain. Only ever knew how to break kneecaps and hide in shadows and keep his lonely body warm with his Pyro vision.

He doesn't know love. He doesn't know how to do it without fighting the fire burning in his stomach when he grieves—

"You're just Diluc. Do you ever need to be anything more than that?"

—or maybe he hasn't given it the chance it deserves. The chance he deserves.

He realizes then, what love must be. What kept him up at night, the feeling raging in his chest:

There was no corner of Teyvat he could ever call home without you anymore. He belonged here, with you.

And accompanied with this realization is something that he hasn't felt in many years. Peace. A stillness in his body and the calm in his mind which was usually racing with contemplation— something he never thought he would feel again.

And it's because of you. Only you. It would only ever be because of your love.

"Would you accept me as I am?"

You smile. "I always have."

"You don't know who I am. The things I've done."

"Are they that bad?"

"Awful."

You hum in thought, thumb mindlessly brushing his cheek back and forth. "We have all the time in the world for you to explain," you add with another soft smile, "I believe you have your reasons. I believe in you."

He laughs, exhales shaky. "You're insane."

"Am I? But I think you're falling for me anyways."

So what if he is? He can't find a single reason wrong with it anymore.

The rain has started to let up, the world around him lighting up with warm sun. And you look so radiant like this, surrounded by the fog brought in by the storm and shining in sweet sunlight.

"Do you think we have your father’s approval?"

He doesn't have to answer that. Not when you're already leaning in closer to him.

The diminishing pitter-patter of rain against your shabby umbrella fills his ears. You're so close that he swears he can hear your heart thundering in your chest.

Diluc has always been brave; he was a terrible troublemaker of a child that grew into a body too big for a boy— some part of him that he kept locked away for the sake of living his life as his father would have wanted. If he wanted to lead an empire of a business, he would need to grow up eventually.

He's always been brave, but he was still too much of a coward to stop using his father as a way out. Because he knows Crepus would have wanted Diluc to find happiness, not vengeance.

It's about time he stopped being afraid.

"I think he wants me to tell you something."

"And what's that?" You smile.

"That in this life—" he breathes, "—in this and the next and the one after until the stars of Teyvat run out, I will love you."

You snicker. He can feel it rumbling in his own chest. "How romantic," you tease with his breath in your lungs.

He shuts you up with his mouth.

Diluc kisses you in autumn, with the golden leaves of change. Diluc kisses you warm and sweet and long. He can't remember what was filling his senses at that moment. Your bodies were too close for him to care.

WINTER

Winter was always a bothersome season.

Even in his days away from Mondstadt, in all the time he spent roaming the north, he never quite grew accustomed to the freezing temperatures and harsh weather.

When Diluc left for Snezhnaya, he left his childhood behind, too. He abandoned who he was on the doorstep of his manor, put all his funds into the hands of Adelinde with no intent of returning, and left in the middle of the night without a word.

Half of him expected to die. The other half expected to not return by choice.

For the first few months he spent adjusting to the northern climate, he tucked himself away in a hidden cavern away from the Capital where the Tsaritsa resided. He was in no condition to battle, let alone challenge a god.

He spent many days stealthily hunting down lower ranking Fatui— people that no one would miss. At eighteen years old he had enough blood on his hands to guarantee Celestia's smiting. Blood that, as he learned, does not wash off.

He had to teach himself how to travel through thick snow. Through blizzards and hail and subzero temperatures nothing alike to those felt on Dragonspine.

And when he finally returned home, battle worn and hardened and cold, he couldn't stand the snow. Every crunch under his boots reminded him of the times he had to lug around his greatsword through treacherous enemy lines. Even the sound put him on edge for incoming attacks.

It wasn't like he was ever particularly fond of the cold but for a long time, as a boy, he would simply tolerate it. He had his Pyro vision, after all, and it never truly caused him any harm.

When Kaeya received his Cryo vision, things took a turn.

The cold represented nothing but death for Diluc. It was pain and grief and sorrow— loss in magnitudes indescribable to anyone else. It was bloodshed, the terrible stench of flesh, metal on metal. It was homesickness.

There was nothing poetic or beautiful about it. It only reminded him of all the things he had lost.

He would roll his eyes when Venti sang about the first snowfall of the season. His Pyro vision would glow until the ice melted around him. It's impractical, he told you when you first met and he was guiding you back down the mountain. It doesn't do any good except make you slip and fall.

Diluc remembers quite vividly how you snorted at that. And, like always, you went on to say things that would make his head spin. Find beauty in life even where you think it doesn't exist.

He didn't heed your advice all too much, instead grumbling about how his claymore was getting heavy and that he wanted to get back to the Winery as soon as possible.

But then he found that it was hard to ignore your words. Especially when you were showing him exactly how to do it— popping frozen grapes into his mouth that were somehow a little sweeter; mixing him hot cocoa the way your mother taught you; throwing snowballs at him from behind trees and thinking you've won until he nails you straight in the face in retaliation.

Winter always brought a smile to your face. And how could he not smile when you are?

The best part of it all was that the cold made you cling to him a little closer. A little tighter. So close that he swears he can hear your heart beating in his own ears, savouring his warmth unlike anyone he'd ever met before.

"My personal fire seelie," you joked once. He pinched your cheek until you slapped his hand away and buried your face back into his chest.

Diluc is pretty certain that he hasn't been this happy in a long time. Not since before his father passed, at least. Even with the nervous sigh that leaves him, you're urging him forward.

"I can't believe you never learned how to skate!"

"It's... not something noble families would have approved of."

"But you have this whole lake in your backyard!" You gawk. He only stifles a laugh, stumbling clumsily into your arms. You catch him as if you'd done it a thousand times before.

"Show me how it's done."

"It's like dancing," you say with an encouraging grin, pulling him along with you slowly. You're half right. Some aspects of it do remind him of a warm spring night, with music playing and your laughter in his ears. On the other hand, he can't seem to keep his skates straight.

"The ice won't fall through, right?" He murmurs anxiously, nodding at the Pyro vision hung on his belt.

"If it does, I'll save you!"

"I don't think you'd be able to carry me up from the water," he deadpans.

"I'd save you," you insist.

"Really?"

"Yes, really! For as many times as you need me to save you, I will."

And you did save him. Though, that statement is better left unspoken for the sake of the heat rising to his cheeks. Instead, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin.

Find beauty in life. Another set of words he never thought he would understand. But he's staring at beauty right in its face and it smells like Cecelias. Dances like a shooting star. Loves unconditionally.

Diluc always loathed winter, until you redefined it into a thing he missed dearly—

Home.

crossposted to ao3!

🏷️ @rintosei hi babe its up <3

#— whispers in the wind ✧#seriously thank you to ellie #everyone go give her a big hug she deserves the world #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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dariwrites03 · 5 months

Text

Fucked up Monday.

A/n: this is the first Ellie x female reader I’ve ever written so pls be kind ??? ( let’s be real, first thing I’ve ever written ngl) Also, English isn’t my first language so excuse my mistakes. Otherwise have fun!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748855174059130880/fucked-up-monday-23

Summary: Having Ellie as a friend is great. Having her as you’re patrol partner? Even better. Loving her though, that’s where all the problems begin. Especially since Ellie doesn’t feel the same, right?

Warnings: slightly mention of grief, anxiety,post apocalypse world!! Slightly curse words ( what’s you’re favorite curse word? Probably fuck.)

-5,9K words or something xx

The world suddenly became gray, the clouds got thicker and as the rain started to make its way down onto the dirty ground surrounding your house, you knew today was most definitely not a good day. But It's not like you didn't know that already. The last couple of days weren't great either, and that's not something you can blame on the terrible January weather.

No, partly you blame yourself for those terrible hours that turned into days you spent in front of your living room window wasting away important minutes, stuck with way too many thoughts to function. So many things you have to think over and over, without really ending up with an answer that satisfies you. And you blame her, too, for somehow making the world much darker than it already is. But deep down you knew that this wasn't the right way to go, you could not make her the center of your problems, couldn't build your own mistakes around her. But you'd like to try anyway.

Monday, only a week ago, everything was as fine as it could be, considering the circumstances. Because life in the post-apocalypse isn't always easy, because one of your closest friends, Dina, is in love with Ellie Williams. Because Ellie Williams is the girl you gave your heart many years ago.

This specific Monday,where everything went down, you were on patrol with Ellie. Over the past two months, it had become a ritual. The two of you made the best team in Jackson, using supplies judiciously and working smart and fast. Everyone could rely on you both, and you loved it. The feeling of being needed was something great. The idea of people believing and trusting you was something you wouldn't trade for anything. You loved to help, and God knows you were doing a pretty good job at it too.

That Ellie was the one assigned to you wasn't something you were mad about. You craved nothing more than the attention from the emerald green-eyed girl. Knowing that you two spent hours on patrol with nothing but meaningless conversations filling the air made life taste a bit sweeter. And Ellie felt the same way. From the moment you first exchanged words in Jackson, you both knew right away that whatever you had in your hearts for each other was too precious to let loose.

But now, that specific feeling you get whenever you think about her is probably the reason why you're scared in your living room, hiding from everything and everyone, but especially from her.

Having Ellie as your friend was incredible. You both talked about everything and always found playful words even in serious situations, lightening the burden on your minds. But being friends with her wasn't enough for you. You yearned to be closer, to have her in every way you could possibly want a human being. And that terrified you since your friend made her intentions about Dina very clear.

And having her as your patrol partner was the wisest decision Maria ever made. Even though you weren't always assigned to each other, the moments you shared on patrol were precious. The way you both moved in sync, anticipating each other's actions, spoke volumes. It was more than just duty; it was a connection that defied mere partnership.

At first,starting off new right after the parole training Tommy gave you, you were in a group with your cousin Dylan. He was a smart man, kind and caring—one of the closest people you'd ever call family. Not much older than you or your friends, but he lost his life in a fight with a bloader while the two of you went to check on an Abandoned School near Jackson. When you returned without Dylan by your side, the traumatic experience still etched into your bones, you explained the situation to Maria right away, sharing as many details as you could remember. You hoped that you wouldn't have to recount this nightmare of a story multiple times. You described to her exactly where it happened and how you somehow managed to escape, paying the price of Dylan losing his life while distracting the bloader. Maria promised to be there when you told all your family members and to send out a group of people to the building. Their mission: to finish off the bloater and retrieve whatever was left of Dylan for a somewhat respectful funeral. Something he deeply deserved.

After your conversation with Maria, she immediately called Ellie in to ask if it would be okay for her to pair with you. Returning to work wasn't something you originally had in mind, but in hindsight, Maria probably knew that working would keep your mind off things. She was also aware of the deep connection you had with Ellie. If she had assigned you to someone else, you might have been too terrified to venture close to the outside world ever again.

Ellie, however, always wanted to go on patrol with you. She hated the idea of you going with Dylan instead. It wasn't that she didn't like him; it was more that she felt like she lost control the moment the safe gates of Jackson closed, and she wasn't by your side.

The first couple of times the two of you went on patrol together were more challenging than you had anticipated. Sometimes, you believed you could still hear his screams echoing in the back of your mind. Other times, his anguished facefilled your thoughts, and you grappled with the regret of running in the opposite direction. The guilt of what you *should* have done never truly left your mind.

Maria, understanding the weight of your experience, altered the usual patrol routes for you and Ellie. She ensured that you both didn't have to cross the area where the incident with Dylan occurred. Deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done to save Dylan, yet you couldn't help but blame yourself.

Ellie did her best to empathize, and you noticed and appreciated her efforts. While she couldn't erase all the pain, her presence made the feelings a little less overwhelming. You sensed that she was aware of this too since she let you sleep over at her place almost everyday since and somehow already knew when a new anxiety attack was about to happen without you even knowing it.However, over the past few weeks, you've been avoiding her, along with almost everyone else. The ache in your heart, triggered by thoughts of Ellie being with Dina, became too much for your frightened heart to bear. Distance seemed like the only viable solution—a way to shield yourself from the emotional storm.

On that bittersweet Monday,where the two of you headed out a little earlier than you'd prefer, the sun not yet fully awake, you embarked on a new route. Not far from Jackson, there lay a small town—one that Maria wanted both of you to investigate and "clean." With that purpose, you made your way over there.

As you and Ellie stepped into this town, its quiet streets greeted you. The air smelled of pine and nostalgia, and the sun cast long shadows across the wooden storefronts. Maria's instructions echoed in your mind.

Ellie walked beside you, her gaze scanning the facades. Her emerald eyes held a mix of curiosity and determination. You wondered what thoughts raced through her mind.

As you explored the town, you noticed faded murals on brick walls, their colors muted by time. Abandoned storefronts stood like sentinels, their windows boarded up, history locked within. The creak of a rusty swing in the town square hinted at children's laughter long gone. And somewhere, perhaps hidden in the shadows, lay the heart of this place.

With each step, you peeled back layers—the layers of dust, of stories, of forgotten dreams. The sun climbed higher, casting warmth on your shoulders.

"Hey, I thought I was funny!" Ellie's voice echoed in the back of your mind, snapping you back to reality and the conversation you and her had going on."God, Ellie, you know I love you lots, but do you have to be so weird?" you asked her, a smirk spreading across your face. "No idea what you're talking about, babe. Am I not allowed to express my love for clothing?" she said dramatically. "Not when you show up at a parole meeting wearing a cowboy hat?!" you said, laughing, recalling the expressions on Maria and Joel's faces when Ellie walked in. "It was a statement!" - "A fashion crime, that's what it was!" Your tone was amused. Ellie didn't respond to your playful jab and just shook her head, her laughter filling the air. That sound, that sweet sound you could never get enough of, made everything feel more than alright. It was just the two of you, on your horses, riding near a lake, continuing to cross the small town, laughing as if this was how it was meant to be. But the comfortable silence that enveloped both of you suddenly halted when you laid eyes on a massive, abandoned mall ahead. "Seems like we need to check this place out," Ellie said, her voice calm as she studied the map in her hands. You tightened your grip on the reins of your horse. "Alright, lead the way?" you asked her. She responded, "Already on it, princess." You rolled your eyes, but the nickname slid off you, making your heart beat faster.

Ellie dismounted her horse, handing you the reins. She strode toward the entrance, determined to open the massive door that separated you both from the darkness within. Meanwhile, you secured the horses to a nearby fence and joined Ellie, who stood waiting. "Ladies first," she quipped, making a sweeping gesture toward the freshly opened door. You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. As you prepared to step inside, Ellie's hand pulled you back. "Spores. Masks on," she mumbled, adjusting her own mask. You followed suit, the cool fabric pressing against your face. Stepping over the threshold, you moved quietly, attuned to the sounds echoing through the abandoned mall from clickers and runners. Ellie held her gun with unwavering resolve, and you mirrored her stance. Her gaze met yours, locking in a shared understanding."Try not to get bit," Ellie said, her voice low. "I don't really feel like shooting you in the head today. Maybe tomorrow, though." Her eyes crinkled, a smile hidden behind the mask. You couldn't help but grin. "Fuck you, Williams," -"Nah, I'd prefer somebody else doing it."

As the two of you make your way deeper into the building, talking nonsense quietly while finishing off Clickers on your way, A loud sound makes you and Ellie stop in your tracks. ''what the fuck was that...'' She mumbled, and you're looking past Ellie in the direction the horror sound was coming from. ''I…”You were unable to speak, move or even breathe because you recognized that sound immediately. ''Hey, are you okay?'' You heard her saying, she moved closer to you and softly grabbed your shoulder with her free hand, shifting your chest so you're looking into her direction again.'' Babe, are you okay?'' Ellie repeated her Question, looking for something in your eyes, you cannot make out. Yet again you were unable to answer, fear slowly making its way up into your lungs, preventing you from breathing properly. She was about to say something again, but she got interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps moving into your direction, revealing one of the most terrifying things this 'new' world has to offer. ''A fucking Bloader...'' Ellie's whisper recalled in your mind and without even knowing it, you're back with Dylan. You were back in the school with him by your side, you hear him screaming your name in pain, begging you to leave, you taste the blood of his on your tongue. You can't breathe. Tears started to form in your eyes, the world got blurry, and that anxious feeling from that same night made its way back into your bones. The feeling of Ellie's hands drifting away from your shoulder, just past to your underarm. Her grabbing your hand was the only thing you noticed before a jerky movement brought you back into reality. Ellie was leading you up an Escalator, running as fast as your guys lungs allowed. ''Fucking shit, we have to move, princess!'' She said, her voice demanding. You couldn't say anything, not even recognizing the nickname she gave you that normally makes your knees weak, the only thing you were able to do was moving with her, her soft hands grabbing your underarm being the only reason you were able to move in the first place.

You couldn't even notice the way Ellie ran a bit faster than you, not letting go of your hand while shooting down upcoming Runners and Clickers, snuffing out whatever life they still clung to. You couldn't even hear Ellie's words as she spoke to you, couldn't see her breaking down a random door and pushing you both inside, closing it firmly and securing it with whatever heavy material she found to lock you two in. Your mind was a whirlwind of panic, grief, and regret. You couldn't move, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to control your agonal respiration. The mask felt even more uncomfortable than it already was. Then, two soft hands carefully grabbed your face, removing the mask and gently resting on your skin. It was a lifeline back to reality.

"Babe, you're okay. We're safe. Come on, try to breathe with me, okay?"Her voice slowly penetrated your foggy brain. Your right hand automatically found her wrist, and for a moment, you tried to do what the brown-haired girl in front of you said—you tried to breathe. "Doing so good, Darling,"she encouraged. „Keep going. Focus on me, alright? Breathe in... hold it, love... okay, breathe out." The softness of her voice traveled up to your brain, dispelling the dark smoke that had clouded your thoughts. "Shit..."you whispered, not caring how pathetic you probably looked right now. Her eyes never left yours, and finally, you took your first real breath since arriving in the mall. "Yeah... that probably captures it best,"she said, her touch gentle as she caressed your cheek. She was still a bit out of breath from all the running.

You looked at her for a second longer, and for some inexplicable reason, everything didn't feel so dire anymore. Maybe it was because with Ellie by your side, you could never feel truly unsafe. A grin crept onto your face, and without bothering to hide it, you burst into laughter, tears still wetting your skin. Ellie stared at you, momentarily confused, but her expression softened. She wasn't able to hold on the grinning expression herself.

Ellie looked at you for a moment, her confusion giving way to laughter. "What the hell, the fuck was that?" you said, still chuckling. „I wish I fucking knew“ she said. Ellie's hands remained pressed against your cheeks, and you didn't mind at all. She grinned, pulling you a bit closer until her forehead rested against yours. "You feel okay, though?" she asked, her tone shifting back to concern. You replied quietly, "I'm with you, so... yeah." Ellie didn't say anything, but her touch lingered on your skin before she pulled away.

"Let's try to find a way out of here," she declared, already scanning the small store she'd barricaded you both into. Her movements were purposeful, and you appreciated her practicality. "I'm definitely not cleaning this entire mall up by myself."- „I mean, you did almost half of it already?“ you said, grinning again. „Yeah, the others can do the other half. I’m fucking done with this place.“

The closeness between you wasn't weird; it was familiar. Ellie had always been a touchable person, and you never complained. In fact, you loved the feeling of having her close—the warmth of her skin against yours. It had happened countless times before Hands touching a little too long, hugs that stretched into eternity, and mornings waking up tangled together. It was no longer something to overthink; it just was—a connection that transcended words.

You made your way through the store, noticing only just now that it used to be some sort of clothing shop. ''hey, look at that. Should I grab that for Dina?'' The voice from the opposite of the room bought your attention, you let your eyes travel their way to where your best friend is standing, holding up a basic brownish lined jacket, weirdly posing with it like she's some sort of model getting pictures taken. ''Yeah. Sure, do that.'' You said, already regretting how your voice sounded out loud. Ellie being in love with Dina wasn't news to you, you were the first person she ever told about her undeniable feelings towards Dina. That your heart shattered in about a million pieces isn't something you ever considered of telling her-You wanted to be supportive, knowing that Dina also felt the same about your best Friend. ''Is everything alright?'' Ellie said, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. ''Yeah, all good, just still, you know, fucked up from that bloader trying to rip us apart.'' You answered while pretending to look through some of the clothes. you practically didn't lie. The encounter with the bloader made you feel all weird and anxious, you were already struggling with not allowing yourself to even think about the incident and with that thing crossing your path it was almost inevitable to keep those memories locked away. Ellie looked at you as she isn't really buying it ''Hey, we don't have to leave right away. We surely can take a break?'' she suggested, making her way over to you. ''A break does sound fucking nice.'' You said, giving the slightly taller girl a tired smile. Ellie nodded at you, nudging your shoulder with hers while walking past you. Now opening a gray door behind the cash register with the words ''Employees only.'' written on lined paper.

Entering the common room was more than disappointing. Although there was an old sofa welcoming your stay, Ellie and you must've shared the same idea because before you could even make a step towards the in dark blue colored sofa, Ellie already dropped her body on it with a load groan. "Fuck you, move your ass over, El.'' You said, smirking as you moved to the small space. She looked up at you, her face blessed with another grin as she crossed her arms behind her head. ''Nah, I'm quite comfortable, thanks for suggesting it though!'' She closed her eyes and moved around on the cheap looking fabric to find the most comfortable position. ''Oh yeah? I mean, you wanted this. Practically dared me to do it'' You said. One of her closed eyes opened „what do you mean?“ she said. Without saying another word you set yourself as carefully as you can down on her lab. Ellie, on the other hand, dramatically lifted her upper body up, pretending to cough for much-needed air ''Help!! Help!! Doctor, I Can't breathe!'' Her arms went in every direction, making it seem like she's struggling to move, "c'mon, fuck you, I'm not even using my full body weight!" You said defending yourself. "Okay, okay, I'm done for. Dead, you won this round, you're officially the “Ellie defeater”.now get down!" She said, laughing as she gently pushed you from her lap. As you got up, Ellie actually made some space for you to sit down, which you did almost immediately. You lean your head against the wall behind you and look at your best friend now sitting leg crossed facing you. "You actually feeling okay tho?" she' asked for what felt like a million times today, which brought a small honest smile onto your face „yeah, as okay as I can be. Seeing that thing did bring some memories back, if rather forget. Thanks for saving me though" you said, playing with the strands of your jacket. „Yeah, glad to be your savior when time gets rough. You owe me one" she said, grinning. "Yeah, sure I owe you" you said. „Totally. Hmm," she said, pretending to think "what could you possibly do for me to regard me for saving your life?" with a grinning face she looked you up and down, and you knew immediately that what your friend had in mind wasn't something that's going to turn out good. „What are you thinking right now? Should I be scared?"- ''Don't know yet.'' Ellie said, lifting her body into a more comfortable sitting position."How about... I ask you a question, and you'll answer truthfully?" Ellie's words carried a weight of seriousness, and you couldn't help but feel anxious. "I'm always honest?" you replied, looking at her, bluffing with your answer. You knew that you weren't always honest, but you kept your own truth close to your heart because it wouldn't change the outcome anyway. Survival often required pretty white lies.

"Cut the bullshit. Okay, so... why are you avoiding Dina all of a sudden?" The question caught you off guard, and you looked at your best friend as if you'd just seen your dead cousin dancing with a Clicker in the distance. "What? I'm not?" you said, knowing Ellie wouldn't buy your bluff. "Hey, you promised to answer truthfully," she insisted, making you roll your eyes. "I never said I'll answer." You shrugged your shoulders, and Ellie gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"Babe... be honest," her voice calm and almost a whisper, her body leaning against the sofa frame. "Dina and I talked about this. She feels insecure, like she's done something wrong. And thinking about it, I feel like you've been avoiding me as well. The only time I ever see you is on patrol. It used to be more, you know? We barely talk. I think it's rather sad. Have I done something? Has Dina made you uncomfortable? Don't give me that look, love. I'm trying to understand you." Her voice shifted from calm to confused, and you knew right away that Ellie wouldn't let this go until she knew the real reason for your distance.

"No... Dina did nothing wrong."It's the only thing you're able to answer. You look down at your hand, playing with the matching bracelet you share with Ellie. „Did I do something...?"you hear her whisper, her voice filled with insecurity. Your heart clenches at the thought of being the reason why Ellie's overthinking her behavior. So, before you can overthink your next move, you look up to her. You move your body a bit closer and lay your hand on her knee, comfortably caressing the fabric of her skinny jeans.

"No... God, of course not. You did nothing wrong. It's just... it's me."Her eyes meet yours, and you know right then and there that you're fucked, unable to lie with her eyes looking at you like that. „What is it, then?"she whispers, resting her own hand on yours. The touch makes you feel like you need to run away as fast as possible. „I... I'm hurt, okay?"You say it with all the honesty in your heart. „Hurt? From what? Dina and I didn't—"You don't let Ellie finish her sentence. Instead, you get up from the comfortable sofa and run your hands over your face. "... this is exactly why I don't want to talk to either of you!"You're now standing in the middle of the room, looking at Ellie who remains in the same sitting position. Her eyes follow you as you pace the small common room.

"You and Dina, all day... when I hang out with you, you only tell me how beautiful she is, how perfect you guys are together, and how deeply in love you are. If I hang with D, it's the same fucking story."Your voice shakes with all the built-up anger inside of you. You're well aware that you don't have the right to be mad about those two people falling in love. You've never even addressed your feelings to anyone else except your mirror at 3 am. How are Ellie or Dina supposed to know that it's ripping you apart? "And what's your problem with that? And did Dina really say she’s into me too?" Ellie asks, and you couldn't help the tears already welling up in your eyes again. "Yes, she did, Ellie. You know she feels the fucking same," you say, your voice breaking into a desperate whisper.

"Hey, the fuck?" Ellie's voice is already alarmed with worry as she gets up to walk those three more steps, entering your personal space again. Her hand reaches for yours, but you subtly step away from her, your back slightly hitting the white wall behind you. "Love, what? Why are you crying? What does Dina feeling the same have to do with you avoiding us?" She asks, her eyes showing some sort of disappointment the second you stepped away from her."Just... forget it, okay? I don't want to talk about it." You mumble, your voice breaking. "But I want to talk about it." Ellie's eyes never leave yours until you look down at your dirty, almost broken Converse shoes. "Ellie, just leave it b—" You get interrupted by Ellie's sharp voice cutting you off. "For fucks sake, can you be fucking honest for once? I don't get your fucking problem. You don't talk, you ignore me and Dina, and now you're saying it's because Dina and I are falling for each other? I thought you're fucking happy for me! Like a best friend should be! I don't understand you, really, I don't." Her voice grows louder with every word. You try to say something again, but you can't bring yourself to talk. You notice Ellie walking toward you again, the wall behind you failing your escape. You felt anger rushing over you, mixed with regret and.. disappointment.

"How about you finally say what you think, huh? Can't go around treating your friends badly because you have some weird jealousy problems. It’s not my fault you don’t have other friends besides me”She's mad, and you know she doesn't understand your reasoning for drifting away from her. Deep down, you also know she's just hurt and, more importantly, scared of losing you.

"...Why are we still talking about this?" You say, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you look into her eyes. She's already looking at you, and god, she's close—too close. "We're going to talk about this until you tell me what's going on." Tears continue to stream down your face for the second time today but this time not because you were sad. You were angry, without even being sure at who you’re angry at.You shake your head, not wanting to answer, and begging to whatever is above you to somehow make Ellie drop the entire topic. ''No, no, you'll answer me right now. What the hell is wrong with you?'' Her hands grabbing your shoulders, pressing your body more against the wall behind you. „You already know it anyways, now let go of me.'' You said, although you were not even trying to pushing her away. ''Not until you answer me with your own words. I Can do this all day'' She said. ''fuck,els, you don't want to know, okay? Just forget it, let me go and let's get the hell out of here''-''So that you can ignore me again? Hell no, we're having this talk now even if it's the last thing I’ll do'' She demanded. ''I don't know what you want from me right now, Ellie!'' you said, voice rising as well with every new word leaving your lips. ''The truth! Why the fuck are you avoiding us?!'' You closed your eyes, taking all that bravery you have left inside you to speak the next heart wracking words filled with honesty. ''Because I Can't handle you falling for somebody else. Because knowing you want her breaks my fucking heart, because I want to be the girl you think about, talk about, dream about! Because I fucking love you, okay?! I’m sorry!” You looked at her, eyes scared, like a little puppy. She didn't answer but didn't let go of your shoulder either. ''you happy now?'' You said and before Ellie could prevent it, you took the moment of her confusion as a way to escape her grip, pushing her away slightly. That movement was the wake-up call Ellie needed because she grabbed your shoulder again just to push you into almost the same position, back pressed against the cold wall.

And suddenly, you waited—waited what felt like ages—for the eclipse of her cutting words to happen. You anticipated her telling you to never talk to her again, accusing you of selfishness, and lamenting the ruin of a perfectly good friendship. But instead, there was silence. The only sound that reached your ears was her deep breathing, mirroring your own. And in that hot, suspended moment, you feared she could hear your heart beating, laid bare and vulnerable for her to either take or break. You studied her face intently, fear gripping your heart. Scared of what you might find in her expression. She does the same. Ellie's eyes traced every contour, mapping your features as if committing them to memory. And then, abruptly, her gaze halted. It rested on your lips-

"What are you doing?" you barely whispered, your voice a fragile thread in the charged air. The brown-haired girl lifted her gaze to meet your eyes once more, only to trace a deliberate path back down to your lips. A soft, almost imperceptible pressure settled against your chin, her hands holding you in place. Her thumb danced gently over your bottom lip, igniting a flutter of anticipation within you. You swallowed, the moment hanging suspended—a fragile bridge between friendship and something more you’re not ready to cross. "Ellie..." you murmured, the syllables almost lost in the charged silence. Her face drew closer to yours, breaths mingling, and before you could draw your next breath, her lips crashed onto yours without further hesitation. A simple kiss, yet it ignited a cosmic explosion within you. Her lips on yours transformed the quietude into a kaleidoscope of colors. Every rational thought in your brain was stripped away, replaced by her presence—the warmth of her hand still cradling your chin, the delicate shift as it left your shoulder to encircle your waist. Your fingers, guided by instinct, wove through her tousled hair, pulling her closer. Because when it's Ellie, close is never close enough.

As you finally convinced yourself to pull away, the air around you seemed to shimmer with heat. But your brain? It was a tangle of wordless wonder, unable to string coherent thoughts together. So, without hesitation, you drew her back into your space, pressing your soft lips against hers once more.

———————————————————

The ride back was weird. The air around the two of you, once filled with comfortable silence, had shifted. Now, it hung heavy with unspoken words, a chasm between you that seemed insurmountable.

After the kiss, neither of you said much. You swiftly wiped away your tears on the gray sweater you wore—a piece that belonged to Dylan, a memory of another time. Ellie, unable to meet your gaze, chose the only sensible course of action: finding a way out of the mall, escaping the charged atmosphere that clung to you both. Escaping you. And so, you found a backdoor, a clandestine escape from the weirdness that had enveloped you both. Even as you stepped into the outside world, a part of you wished you could linger within those walls a little longer. The horse up front awaited you, and you mounted it, riding away from the mall. The silence between you and Ellie weighed heavily, an unspoken question echoing: Why did it all become so weird?

Embarrassment clung to the silence, and you wondered what comfort you had once found in the noise—the cacophony of everyday life. But answers eluded you. As you returned to Jackson, Ellie by your side, you led the horses back to the stable. Maria received a brief explanation about the situation inside the building, her eyes curious but respectful. And then, without uttering a single word, you and Ellie went your separate ways. The silence remained, a chasm that neither of you dared to bridge.

This was 2 Days, 5 Hours and 54 Minutes ago. But who's Counting, right?

Ever since then, knowing you had three days off parole with her, you barricaded yourself at home. Maria didn't question it; she probably assumed it was because the bloader brought back too many memories. You certainly wouldn't correct her on that theory. Instead, you settled by the big window in your living room, watching raindrops trace their paths on the glass. But it couldn’t it stay that way and you knew eventually you'd have to talk to her, face her, and work with her. You didn't want things to become even more awkward than they already were. So you prepared yourself for a long, difficult talk.

With what felt like hours of convincing yourself and an argument you played out in your head, you got up and made yourself look presentable again. Leaving the comfort of your house, you took a little walk around the built neighbourhood in Jackson, pondering what you'd even say to her. Instead of taking the short road leading directly to Ellie's safe four walls, you made your way to one of the information stations across town, just to have a quick look at next week's schedule.

Arriving there, you meet a friendly face: Sophia. She's almost like Maria's right hand, diligently putting up new lists every week. You give her a small smile, though the turmoil inside you threatens to spill over. Her pitying look doesn't go unnoticed. Your eyes scan the handwritten list, searching for your and Ellie's names, followed by the assigned route. But something catches your attention: Ellie's name isn't next to yours anymore; it's now paired with Dina. You blink, thinking it's some cruel, messed-up joke. Your eyes dart around, seeking your initials, and there they are—next to Jesse.

"What the hell?" you mumble, the confusion swirling in your mind. Sophia approaches, sensing your distress. "Can I help you with anything?" she asks, her voice gentle. You hesitate, then blurt out, "Why am I assigned with Jesse instead of Ellie? Is this some sick joke?"

Regret tinges your voice; it's not Sophia's fault. Mistakes happen, right? She shifts uncomfortably, glancing at You. "Oh, Maria didn't talk to you yet?" she says, reading your expression. "Uhm, Williams, here." She points to the list, where Ellie's name is scrawled in an unsteady handwriting. "Asked Maria to switch parole partners... I don't know why," Sophie mumbles, fear evident in her eyes on how you'd take the news.

You turn to the door hearing a cracking sound, and there's Maria, striding toward you with multiple papers in hand.

"Maria, what the—" Your words catch in your throat. Maria's weathered face meets your gaze. "Hey, sweetie, don't give me that look," she says gruffly. "I tried to talk Ellie out of it, but she insisted on changing partners. Didn’t even gave me an explanation but I could tell she was serious. And since you and Jesse are friends as well, I thought it wouldn't make much of a difference. He can help you out” she said, making it sound like not a big deal.

She insisted on changing.

The words hang in the air, a sledgehammer to your already fragile heart. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? What are you supposed to do?

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #joel and ellie #the last of us #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #joel miller #joel tlou #elliexreader #elliewilliams #ellie x fem reader #ellie #ellie x reader #reader x character #ellie x you #last of us

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itsharleystuff · 1 year

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↳ II. 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘋

Read part one here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (once again, I’m sorry)

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after your steamy encounter with Joel during your homecoming party, things between you have been stagnant. Although, fate seems to be on your side when both Sarah and your dad have to leave town for a short while.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, Joel hits it from behind, blowjobs, some teasing, a bit of spanking, pet names (darling, sweetheart, honey), unprotected sex (pls do not attempt), cum eating, taking nsfw photos, Joel tries to be dom but fails, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), reader is kind of a brat, fluff and feelings (yes, this is a warning), alcohol consumption, brief mention of family death. Barely edited, sorryyy. No use of y/n.

—A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone but I suggest reading the previous part for a better understanding. Btw, there’s a couple of Easter eggs from the game in this! Also— I tried making a moodboard and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’ll probably stick to gifs in the future, lol.

“I like Indiana Jones," you babble, taking a sip from your coffee without looking at anyone in specific. "I was twelve and in love with Harrison Ford..."

"Okay, so that's one movie we're definitely not going to watch." Sarah chimes in, lazily chewing on her scrambled eggs. "How do you feel about Robert Pattinson?"

"That depends," you reply, moving your head side to side in a contemplative manner, "are we talking twilight or Harry Potter?"

You hear your dad snort on the other side of the table and see Joel chuckling beside him. Sarah crosses both arms over her chest and raises a brow at them. “What's so funny?"

"Nothing," your dad clears his throat and side-eyes his friend. "Just thought you two were a bit old for those crappy vampire movies. Maybe watch-"

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's a good idea to take recommendations from either of you," you cut him off, leaning back on your chair. "You're both obsessed with die hard, think The Godfather is incredibly complex and in your spare time watch construction programs. We'll be fine on our own."

"Touché..."

It's been three weeks since your homecoming party, and ever since then it has become a habit to have breakfast together every weekend. Today, Saturday, it was the Miller's turn to cook, which consequently had you and your father sitting at their table. As of now, you and Sarah were discussing your movie night, which had to be postponed due to her road-trip to San Antonio— apparently, she and her friend Ellie were going to visit some college campuses there.

It's also been three weeks since that little, hot encounter you and Joel had in your kitchen. And, contrary to your better judgement, both of you were more than eager to spend some extra time alone. Things since then had been uneasy, specially when being surrounded by others; always worried that someone might notice those stolen looks you'd share or sense the palpable tension that rose when you would stand too close to each other.

You try not to think about it. Except when you do. A swirl of memories would come flooding your mind in the most inappropriate moments, creating that heat that made you remember exactly how his fingers felt inside you, his tongue between your folds, the sloppy kisses and that feral, hungry look in his eyes while eating you out, touching you like you were the most precious thing on earth.

"How about pride and prejudice?" the girl wonders, standing up to clean her dishes and snapping you back to reality.

"Shit, I love period dramas!" your dad shoots you a reproachful glare at your language, but you chose to ignore it. "As a matter of fact, most of my designs are inspired by the Victorian and regency eras."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah recalls, "I remember I read about it in one of your blogs. Dad showed it to me, by the way..." Joel clears his throat loudly, making her giggle.

Although she had mentioned it before, it was still kind of weird that he acknowledged your work. At first you thought it was merely because he wanted to connect with you somehow, but lately he'd been asking if he could see your new sketches and would let you borrow some old magazines he had around the house. Your best friend, Sophie, mentioned he might've been trying to show his interest in you subconsciously. And she was that one psychic friend who believed in zodiac signs and angel numbers, so you decided to believe her.

In that moment, your dad receives an incoming call on his cellphone; he excuses himself and heads to the living room. Your eyes lock with Joel's, and the fact that he was uninhibitedly staring back at you drew a smug smile on your face.

"Are you interested in fashion, Mr. Miller?" he sulks out a dry 'no', but you could see him fidget with his watch nervously. "Pity. I thought maybe you could model some of my male designs."

Sarah genuinely cracks up at your comment, slapping one hand on the table. "You want dad to pose for you? Seriously?"

"Why not? I brought my Polaroid camera, I can get some very nice shots." You were partially joking, but deep down you just wanted to see how he'd react.

"I mean, I know dad's got his charm with women, or so they keep saying-"

"No way anyone says that," he rambles.

"But the idea of him modeling is probably the funniest thing I've ever heard."

The fact was that you didn't want to take pictures of him so anyone else could see them. You wanted them exclusively for yourself. A couple of naughty Polaroids to keep around for whenever you were aching for him —which has been nearly every fucking night since your arrival—.

"It was a silly idea," you finally agree, shrugging. Joel stands to take his things to the sink. "Do you really have to leave for the weekend? You're like, my only friend here."

"Uh, about that..." she leans in towards you and you can practically smell a scheme on her. "Would you be mad if I gave your number to someone?"

You can quite literally feel the man standing behind you tense up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, like... To a guy." She moves in her place, but there's still no answer from you. "He's my English teacher. His name is Will and he's super smart, young, really funny and very handsome, I might add. I believe he can be your new male model." Sarah adds that last bit with a grin.

When you turn your head to see Joel, there was a deep scowl etching on his face, his body remaining still as a stone.

"I don't know... As friends, maybe." You weren't sure why, but the idea of meeting anyone new didn't really sound appealing.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could actually do so, your dad walked in again. He appeared upset, gesturing nonsense and muttering impassively.

"What's wrong?" your tone comes out concerned.

"I have a meeting in Boston," he sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder apologetically. "Apparently it's urgent and I have to catch the next flight if I want to be there by nightfall."

"Oh, don't worry," you smile at him warmly. "I understand. Besides, I'm an adult. I can manage a weekend by myself."

He nods, still seemingly aloof. "I know but- I just wanted to spend some more time with you."

And of course you wanted that too, but saying it out loud could literally bring him to quit his job. He was always very extreme when it came down to you.

"What time d’you leave?" his friend asks him.

"Half past four. Why?"

"I can drop Sarah off at Ellie's and then drive you to the airport, if you'd like." Such a caring friend, Joel Miller. So selfless. Helping your dad out, attending his daughter's every special need...

"Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Take care of my little girl while I'm away."

You see his eyes gleam with a mix of unknown emotions, "Will do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The last few days had been no less than torment for Joel. Each moment that went by in which he didn't get a chance to be near you had him losing his mind. Badly. And it wasn't necessarily a physical thing— not always, at least.

Every morning, he would wake up and go to work, knowing for certain that when he comes back home he'll find you hanging around with Sarah or sitting out on your porch with a sketching notebook on your lap.

He liked to guess what you'd be doing.

Would you be playing board games with his daughter? Watching a movie or baking desserts? Maybe you were thrift shopping with your dad or simply going to the mall. And later on, when he finally gets to see you again, you'd tell him all about it.

Joel also liked to imagine what kind of clothes you'd be wearing. One thing he noticed is that you never stick to one particular style or aesthetic. One day you could be wearing pastel sundresses with ribbons in your hair; the next one could be long, black skirts paired with basic tank tops and multiple necklaces, or even something more extravagant, depending on your mood.

Seeing you was an experience— one that he could never get tired of. It's like every time he sets his eyes on you there's a certain color palette that changes constantly, or the feeling of gathering all your favorite songs into one playlist and then hitting the shuffle button. He never knows what to expect. Hence why he had given up on trying to relate you to the silly things around; like seasons, animals, artists or foods. Instead, he started associating you with feelings.

You were creative, unique and incredibly fearless. In a way, you made him feel uneasy, excited, thrilled, confident and many more emotions at the same time. If he had to describe you in one word, he'd say evoking.

Oh, how you pestered his brain.

He hated how much he thought about you, and how little guilt he felt from it.

Right now he was sitting on the drivers seat of his truck, waiting at the airport's parking lot. You asked him if you could walk your dad to his corresponding gate and he agreed. The downside: it had started to rain, probably not too bad for your dad's flight to be delayed but enough for your clothes to get soaked on your way back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you muttered, shutting the passenger's door behind you. “The seats are gonna get all wet..."

"Here," Joel takes off his jacket to place it over your shoulders.

It feels warm and it smells like him, "Thanks."

He starts the car without saying anything else, keeping his eyes glued to the road. You, on the other hand, could not stop staring at him. Now that no one else was around, there was no shame in admiring his side profile, the way his muscles flexed and his hands grasped the wheel. There was something inherently attractive about men driving, but- Jesus... This image had your mind roaming around dark places.

Suddenly, realization sinks in— you're alone.

Alone with him.

"I, uh..." he taps the wheel with his thumb, still avoiding your gaze. "I wanted to take you out for dinner. The weather kinda ruined it."

The corners of your mouth hitch up in a silly smile. "Too bad. I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

Joel hums, appearing somewhat distraught. In reality, he was fighting for his life. The clothes you chose to wear today were not fitted for the rain; denim mini-skirt, high pair of boots and a white top that complimented your upper body. He tried not to look at the raindrops rolling down your thighs or note how transparent your shirt has become, forcing himself to stare at your hands and the many rings that decorated your fingers, seeing there the one he gifted you.

"How about you come over to my place?" you suggest, trying to catch his attention. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes but... Maybe we can do something afterwards."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, still avoiding your gaze, "Like what?"

This time your voice goes lower, a smirk spreads across your face and something in your eyes flickers; a darker, sensual spark.

"Oh, you know..." your hand carefully comes to rest on his knee. His thigh tenses but he doesn't say or do anything to push you away. "Whatever you want."

He swallows hard, feeling the pads of your fingers run circles on his leg, your nails mildly scratching over the jeans in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin and eases his nerves.

"I've got a better idea," he says, keeping his tone calm —barely—. "Why don't you come to my house instead?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Sure, but- what about my clothes?"

And then he smiles cockily, as if this had been his plan all along, "Wear mine."

Well, there was absolutely no way you were going to turn him down. With a bit more boldness, you slide your hand a few inches up his inner thigh, still rubbing soothing patterns. His jaw clenched, but remained silent and apparently unbothered.

"Joel?" his name rolled off your tongue sweetly, in a way only you knew how to. He uttered a 'hm?' in retort. "Did you miss me?"

"I've seen you nearly every day," he answers playfully.

You laugh, stopping your movements and simply resting your palm there. "So... No?"

"Didn't say that, darlin'." The truck suddenly stops at a red light as he exhales heavily, giving in to you at last. "But I'll let you guess."

A push and pull game, like a cat chasing a mouse. Your smirk widens. "I don't think so. Not as much as I have."

His eyes scan your body from head to toe, the way you sit with your legs slightly parted, back laying flat against the seat and face turned towards him with heated cheeks and low gaze. Unexpectedly, your hand draws back from his lap as you start looking through your purse and a frown forms on his face, baffled by the loss of contact.

"Which is why..." you take the Polaroid camera out and see a whole shift in his eyes, like he's about to burst in laughter. "I brought this."

"No," despite his categorical denial, you still held the object up.

"You have a green light," he curses under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. "Just let me have one, please."

He sighs in defeat, "Why'd you want that?"

The rain had started to settle down but the air was still pretty cold, all that could be heard besides your own voices being the drops that crashed against the car.

"Cause you're handsome," he rolls his eyes sarcastically. "And I like you."

Hell, you were always so straightforward. It made his heart jump inside his chest, wondering if it was gonna burst out.

"You won't like me as much once you meet that Will dude," Joel prattles through gritted teeth, remembering his daughter's suggestion from earlier.

"The guy Sarah mentioned?" your brows furrow subtly. "Why? What's up with him?"

He yanks his head to the side, glancing over at you for a second, "Nothin'. Just thinkin' out loud." In spite of your puzzled expression, he decides to grant your wish. "I'll let ya' take it. But only if I get one in return."

Your lips purse in a smile, "As many as you like, Miller."

He doesn't say anything in response, but his grin doesn’t fade either and you managed to capture it on paper. The image slowly started to become visible and your first thought was how well it captured the whole 'Joel Miller' essence. It was a simple photo of him driving with one hand on the wheel and the other arm thrown lazily over the backseat. That denim shirt hugged his arms exquisitely, the rolled-up sleeves adding to his appeal. He was looking at you when it was taken, so you could see more than half his face— and the way he was grinning, you couldn't help but think he appeared so much younger when he did that. The entire thing felt so much like him: snuggly, blue, genuine and you absolutely loved it.

"There," you show it to him as he started to pull over. "Isn't it nice?"

"Just keep it to yourself, aight?" the man grumbles.

"F'course," with a spark of joy, you slide the photo inside your wallet. "Wouldn't want anyone else peeking at that gorgeous smile of yours. That's a treasure of my own."

"Shut up-" he rumbled, turning his face the other way and opening the door, seemingly flustered. And out of all the amazing things you've accomplished in your life, making this rugged looking man blush was probably your greatest pride.

When he helps you out of the car, holding your hand firmly and cleaving to your waist; you wanted nothing more than to kiss him under the pouring rain, wildly and unhinged, just like last time. But this particular spot possibly had too many curious eyes of which you were unaware of. He obviously doesn't need to guide you through his house, since you already know nearly every corner of it, except for one. His bedroom. And apparently, that's the precise location he's taking you to.

"Please excuse the mess," he says, placing one hand on the door handle, "I haven't had a woman in here for ages, so I'm afraid I probably won't live up to your expectations."

"Joel," you snort, "it's been a decade and a half since you last dated anyone. Trust me, my expectations are pretty low."

He scowls, squinting both eyes. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

It's honestly better than you thought. His bed is nicely done, brown bedsheets striking as warm and welcoming; the walls were painted a pretty, light shade of blue that matched the grayish curtains on the left. The drawers in front of his windows had a bunch of stuff scattered on top of them: a CD player along with a few music discs, some papers, a cap and a pair of reading glasses, batteries, one screwdriver and a framed picture of him and Sarah at the beach. Meanwhile, the nightstand simply had one lamp and an alarm-clock on it. Over the bed's headboard were one poster of a music festival, the image of a landscape and an advert of what you guessed must've been a club, that read 'tacos and beer" on it. The door to the bathroom was on the right.

Messy, yet tidy at the same time. Very Joel-like.

"No way..." you murmur, eyeing the guitar beside his bed. "All this time I thought it was a myth."

"What?" he asks from behind you.

"Dad told me you used to serenade girls back in college and that you wanted to become a singer." A giggle escapes your lips, unable to contain it. "I remember saying he was surely making it up, but..."

"I didn't- I mean..." he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his chest swell with your laughter. "Oh, shut up!"

"Make me." The lingering, mischievous smile on your face made his heart pound and blood rush. "Come on, Miller. Shut me up, I dare you."

His eyes darken, but you don't falter for a second. He doesn't move a muscle, solely watching as you took off his jacket and threw it to the bed.

"You dare me?" his voice goes drops an octave, following your every move closely. "That's rather bold of you, sweetheart."

"Mhm," without breaking eye contact, you start taking off your boots. "And yet you're doing nothing about it."

Joel starts walking towards you slowly, holding your gaze intently. Your hair was damp and your clothes were still wet; it didn't really matter that the air was chilly cause you still felt warm all over. He soon invades your space, cupping your chin in his big hand and lifting your head upwards.

"Well, you're awfully quiet now, aren't ya'?" his hot breath fanned across your cheeks, the gap between your faces being basically invisible.

"I'm just waiting for you to start singing some random song by Alabama or Johnny Cash," you scoff. "Like a good ol' Texan ma-"

He doesn't let you finish the sentence, abruptly crashing his lips into your own. Joel isn't delicate about it and the fervor with which he kisses you makes your body stumble a few steps backwards. Your shoulders hit the wall and he pins you against it as your mouths find a way to mold perfectly, at a much nicer pace than last time. You throw your hands around his neck and let your fingers tangle in the curls around his nape, tasting the fresh mint on his lips. His hands rest on your hips, chests pressed together as the temperature kept rising with each second that went on.

You part your lips in order to grant him deeper access, feeling his tongue slide past your teeth and meeting your own in an ardent, heated way. It was perfect, until he broke apart, looking down at you with an asserted confidence.

"You really know nothing 'bout country music," he says in between shaky breaths, beaming. "S'that what you wanted?"

"Yes," you manage to say.

"Then say 'thank you'," Joel indicates petulantly, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, don't be such a brat."

You blink twice, your brain still buzzing with the sensation of mouth on you, barely capable of processing anything else. "But I want more..."

"You'll take what I give you."

Shit, when he said it like that- "Thank you."

"That's my girl," he straightened his back, opening the door next to you. "Now, get your pretty ass in the shower before you catch a cold, 'kay?" You roll your eyes and hear him chuckle. "There's clean towers under the sink. You can take some clothes from my drawers, or Sarah's if you feel like it. I don't think she'll mind."

"Understood." He can tell you're annoyed, which he finds funny.

"Don't be mad at me, angel." Joel tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

You nod distractedly, lost in the cocky spark on his eyes. "I'm not mad. Just hoping you fuck me real good if you're making me wait for it."

Your words almost make him choke on his own saliva. "Sweetheart, you're making it real hard for me to be a gentleman."

It makes your ego boost, in a sense. "I'll be quick. Can you get something for dinner, though? I'm starving."

"Shit, darlin', pick a struggle," he mocks as you enter the bathroom, "are you horny or hungry?"

"Oh, you jerk!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

6:15 pm.

You take a quick glance at Joel's alarm clock once you come out of the shower. It's been little more than an hour since your dad's plane took off. You hope the rain hadn’t made his flight any difficult, cause the weather turned out to be quite a blessing for you.

The cozy feeling of a nice, warm shower after being soaked under the rain was starting to settle in your bones, making your limbs relax. Then you realize, you smell like Joel. The scent of his soap, his shampoo, even his laundry detergent, is all over you. It's intoxicating in the most fantastic way possible, making your insides burn with a thrill of excitement. You took one on his flannels, —dark green with red stripes— and decided to wear it without anything besides your underwear. It was pretty big anyway, and covered just the necessary areas.

You slid your socks back on when all of the sudden you hear the faint sound of music from the floor beneath. Curious, you walk towards the noise, finding out Joel was in the kitchen, crouched down in front of the opened fridge. The CD player that you saw earlier on his room was now on the table, playing a melody that you recognized almost immediately.

"I like this song," you say, leaning against the wall. "That's Billy Idol, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he recalls, taking out a medium sized plastic box from the fridge. "Tommy made that mix. There's plenty of hits from past decades. I think you'll enjoy it."

The man finally turns around to face you and his face fails to hide his surprise. The way his prying eyes sweep your body in detail, taking his time particularly on your bare thighs, almost made you feel self-conscious if it weren't for that shadow of desire that crossed his eyes and the way his nostrils flared from a contained breath.

"How is he, by the way?" you ask, still on the subject. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"Who?" he clearly forgot what he had just said.

"Your brother," you call to mind, "how is he?"

Joel sets the box down on the table and drifts his gaze back to your face. "Fine, I guess. Last time we spoke he said he'd go to Dallas." He takes two glasses from the pantry and what it looks like a bottle of wine. "I-uh... There isn't any real food in here besides those strawberries and chocolates that this guy brought for Sarah. Should I order something?"

You shake your head and walk over to him, "This will do. Won't she get mad if we eat them, though?"

"Don't think so," he replies, pouring the red liquid into the glasses. "I'll blame you if she does."

"Oh, okay-" you cock an eyebrow at him and hold back a giggle. "Thought you didn't like wine."

"It's a fancy drink," he explains, "s'only for special occasions."

"Oh?" you take a sip from it, eyes boring into his. "And what's tonight's?"

Joel smiles conceitedly, jutting his chin out. "I've got you all to myself."

You snort, feeling the heat soar across your cheeks. He takes the snack box and with a sly gesture asks you to follow him into the living room, the melodic sound of the eighties tune turning to background noise as you do. The only lights on are the ones in the kitchen and the lamps beside the couch, shining a perfect light on his features.

"Come here," he calls, the leather squealing under his weight when he sat down. You set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the tv, going to sit next to him. "No, sweetheart," he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I meant here."

His legs part slightly, making room for you to sit on his lap. Your smile broadened toward a soft chuckle, settling yourself on his thigh. Joel immediately gets his hands on you, one on your lower back and the other merely resting on your upper leg.

"So, who's this mystery man that's been giving gifts to your darling daughter?" he scoffs in response, reaching for a chocolate from the box.

"Honestly? No fuckin' clue." You hum in surprise, drinking from your wine. "She never involves with them, thank god, and once they meet me they never come by again."

"I see,” you muse, “you're the overprotective type," you bite on a strawberry next.

"I wouldn't say it like that..." he sees the sarcastic glimpse on your expression and holds back laughter. "It's a dad reflex, I can't control it."

"Right, sounds convincing."

You stretch your arm behind the couch, setting your elbow and laying the side of your face on your palm. His face is very close to yours but all you do is simply stare at each other; Joel's big brown eyes glimmer with infatuation. “Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" he asks lowly. "Somethin' more serious."

You wince in confusion, but still nod, "Sure."

He inhales sharply, taking a couple of seconds to actually say what he meant to. “Why are you here?" your frown deepens at his words. "I mean- Texas. I know you said you wanted to make up for the lost time with your old man, but... I feel like there's something else you're not saying."

It takes a minute for you to really sink in on his question. You nearly gulp down the alcohol before setting the glass down, avoiding his ardent gaze.

"Honestly?" you sigh, "There's so much to unpack that I don't even know where to start."

"Try." Although he didn't sound harsh, the effort he was asking you to put in wasn't something of your liking.

"Well, first of all," you meditate, clearing your throat, "the city didn't feel like home since my mom passed. It made me realize how much I missed here." He nods comprehensively, caressing the exposed skin of your thigh in a reassuring manner. "And then there's this- fear. Yeah, I guess it is fear... I've managed to accomplish so much in such short time that it actually fucking scares me to go any further and see that-" you stop, sighing and shaking your head. "That I've reached my limit."

For a moment, there's just silence floating between you, all that could be heard were the rain and a song by tears for fears.

"Darlin', look at me," he asks softly but you can't bring yourself to do it, embarrassed by your confession. "Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours."

And it's practically impossible for you to deny him anything. Specially when he asks so nicely, when his hand grabs the side of your face so gently— you give in, just like that.

"You're afraid to succeed because you don't know what to do with yourself afterwards. Is that it?" You nod faintly. "Can I speak frankly?"

"I have a feeling you will anyway-"

"Yeah. A bit of tough love, but you need’a hear it." Joel strokes your cheek sweetly and you get shivers from the affection in the action. "Sweetheart, I know what you're going through. Shit feels like it's either moving too fast or not moving at all. And I know how scary that is. Trust me, there's still plenty of time for you."

You square your eyes to his, "Sure, bet you were frightened when you were twenty four."

"Terrified," he spoke truthfully. "Everyone I knew was getting married, moving out or working their asses off."

"And you?" he grunts, taking a strawberry from the box. "What were you doing?" Joel eats the fruit patiently, simply staring at you silently. "Come ooon, don't play hard to get."

"Gotta promise you won't laugh."

It's a tricky business for someone who makes fun of everything, and yet you simply reply: "I swear."

"Fine," he rasps out in fake annoyance. "I used to make my own guitars and- sell 'em sometimes. I'd also teach guitar lessons and horseback riding."

Your eyes widen in surprise and something flutters in your stomach. "Shit, that's actually pretty cool!"

He groans, rolling his eyes at the same time, "I told you not to make fun of me."

"No, no- I mean it." You shuffle on his lap, resting a hand on his chest. "And you sound passionate about it... Why'd you stop?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, tightening his grip on your waist. "It went well for a couple years but I eventually had to get something more solid. More so after Sarah was born." He takes a deep breath in, the smell of his own shampoo on your hair hitting his nostrils and catching him off-guard.

"You should teach me," you suggest with a smug grin. "I always wanted to learn."

"What, guitar or horseback riding?" he wonders, suddenly nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Guitar. I'm pretty good at riding, if you must know." You feel him chuckle against your body, his facial hair scratching your sensitive skin.

"We'll see 'bout that," his voice comes out husky as he starts kissing along your jawline.

Joel's common sense jumped out the window long ago, but the string of self control that kept him sane all this time couldn't bear the weight of you wriggling on top of him, semi-naked and with his scent all over you. Something primal took over him, a glimpse of possessiveness that he didn't believe himself capable of feeling towards you specifically. He wanted you to wear that flannel around town so people would look at you and know who it belonged to; whose bed you've been visiting. He wanted you to smell of his cologne so other men would know that you weren't free for them.

Your fingers run through his soft curls, messing his hair while he grabs the back of your thighs and manhandles you onto straddling his lap. He nips and licks over all your vulnerable areas, making your breathing start to labour. How could he possibly know this well the easiest ways to have you so desperate this quick? Leaning into his touch, yearning for him even with the smallest action? He wasn't aware of the answer himself, he just knew.

Joel instinctively throws his head back when you tug at his hair and seize the opportunity to duck down and lay a sweet kiss on his forehead. His hands coast up your thighs, splaying his fingers on your ass to squeeze the flesh. You hold back a giggle, kissing the curve of his nose before catching his soft, soft lips on yours.

He slides an arm around your waist, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you as close as possible. You feel your nipples harden when his tongue ran along your bottom lip— tauntingly slow, until you allowed him full access to your mouth, letting him taste the sweet mixture of wine and strawberries on your tongue. But his vehemence didn't make you any less eager, kissing him back with just as much passion and vigor, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and mildly pulling at it with minor strength.

The action ignites a fire within him, seeing you on top, feeling your fingers roam around his cheekbones and along his jawline like you knew just how much fucking power you had over him... It was a new sensation, a new kind of desire he didn't recognize at first.

Joel's lips were swollen and his own excitement was starting to feel evident underneath you, which created a blunt ache between your legs. He usually appeared so big and mean, with those broad shoulders and permanent scowl on his face. Now, though... He seemed like he'd let you do just about anything with him, to him— it didn't really matter as long as you kept staring at him like that; through heavy lids, eyes sparkling with a profound, desperate need that spoke without words, saying 'only you get to see this side of me'.

You start grinding your hips against his, rubbing your clothed core above his growing boner in small, calculated circles as you shore yourself up with a hand to his chest. He merely admired you from his position, letting you have your way with him; all the while his gaze reflected patience, like he could take over the situation any second but enjoyed watching you lead.

"Joel," you call his name, leaning forward to kiss his chin, moving your lips all the way down his throat and feeling the nice scratch of his beard. Your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you come up to whisper in his ear: "Stay still."

Panting, he narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?" Though you don't give him enough time to figure out your words, getting back on your feet and parting his legs further with a light thump of your knee.

He observes your every move quietly, amused by your confidence and determination when you drop to your knees in front of him. Joel's cocky expression doesn't sway, not even when you drag your nails across his inner thigh, inching closer towards his very visible hard on. However, his body betrays him, selling a whole different story. His muscles tense, his jaw clenches and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," he hissed, refusing to place his hands on you.

"Or what?" you drawl, coming to rest your palm on his crotch. A simple, feathery touch that made his pulse accelerate.

"You'll regret it," he warns grimly.

"S'that so?" you start to unbuckle his belt, way too slow for his liking, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I think I can handle it."

He smirked, his hand slithers to the back of your scalp and forces you to lock eyes with him. "Don't test your luck, sweetheart."

You pout mockingly, doing exactly the opposite of what he was saying while dragging down the fabric just enough to free his cock. Your new found courage falters for a second, finally seeing him in all his size and girth. He was, by all means, a big one, the amount of precome oozing on the tip telling you just how much he loved being teased, despite whatever words came out of his mouth. The mere sight of it sent a new heated wave of slick between your thighs.

Joel mimicked your expression scornfully, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, "Too big for ya'?"

"None of that," you wrap your hand around the base, not really applying any pressure; though the sole warmth of your touch was enough to give him goosebumps, "we'll make it fit."

"That's my girl."

With a chuckle, you lower your head to kiss the inside of his thigh, the pads of your fingers softly grazing the veins on his length. His whole body shudders, leaking onto your hand and letting out a subtle gasp as you spread kisses all along his shaft. Your eyes peer into his soul when you gently place your lips to the slit, tasting the salty precome as he calls your name in what resembles a desperate plea. In a swift move, you finally take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and deciding to put an end to his suffering. He mutters a gruff 'fuck' when you attempt to take him farther, pumping what you couldn't yet fit and snaking your free hand under the hem of his denim shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly.

"Shit, darlin'-" you feel the heaviness of his palm simply resting on the back of your head, not pushing or forcing you in any way, but allowing you to adapt to his size. "The only way to get ya' to stop talking is with a mouth full of cock, ain't it?"

You hum in response and the sensation is completely enrapturing for Joel, his callused fingers tangle in your hair to ground him as he releases a shaky breath. It's a huge challenge to focus on anything else but him; your mind whirring with a familiar dizziness while you bob your head up and down his shaft, intoxicated by the taste of him, the smell of him and every sound that escapes his lips, making your clit throb with need and your arousal pool in your panties, uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

For Joel, it's overwhelming.

He's never really been the noisy type during sex but heck— you were doing it for him. He's a panting mess above you, his hips buck ever so slightly in tandem with your mouth, trying not to lose it entirely. Your spit drools down his dick and the way your dark, dilated pupils sparkle with lust as you hollow your cheeks around him pulls a groan deep from his throat.

"That's it, you can take it," he coaxes when your nose nudges his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "Good fuckin' girl, just like that..."

Enticed with the praise, you keep repeating the motion, sliding one hand to hold his hipbone for support and feeling his burning skin under your touch whilst the other plays with his balls to aid his pleasure. The obscene slick sounds mix in the air with his hoarse cursing, the rain and the faint music of kings of leon, sex on fire.

He looks so good from this angle, chest rising and falling with heavy, irregular breaths, head thrown back and both hands on you, keeping you angled for his cock. Drops of precum roll on your tongue as you keep changing the pace at which your head moves, tears welling in your eyes and jaw going slack. Shit, you're aching for him so bad that the only thing you can think of to relieve the need is squeeze your thighs together in order to create some friction. And it works, the action eliciting a moan from you that makes him fucking whimper your name.

"Bet your cunt's drippin' just from sucking my dick," he muffles a laugh that turns halfway into a sigh when you pay special attention to the ruddy, sensitive tip. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

You can tell he is by the way his cock twitches in your mouth; his spine straightens at the heat gathering between his legs and he tries to pull you off against your will, uttering a warning that you chose to ignore. Joel's lips part in a throaty groan when he reaches his high, feeling the outline of your fingers digging harshly on his hip, your hand rubbing his length and your tongue lapping at his slit, taking in every single drop of his release until he's spent, right before pressing a soft kiss to it that makes him shiver. And hell— contrary to others, he tasted good; warm and thick, coating your senses.

His heart beats aggressively against his ribs and he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to get back on your feet while resting your hands on his waist. Although his eyes are barely open, he can quite literally feel your smile when you chastely kiss his lips. He chuckles breathlessly as you sit beside him, tugging himself back in his pants.

"We're not done yet," he says, grabbing the back of your knee and promptly engulfing your leg around his waist, maneuvering your body so that your back rests against the couch and he's crouched down, caged in the middle of your thighs. "I said I'd make it up to you and I will."

"Well, you've certainly got some stamina in you, old man," you poke fun at him, raising a hand to move those rebellious curls away from his eyes.

Joel smiles, caressing your cheek affectionately. "Always got somethin' to say, don't ya'?"

"Oh, Mr. Miller," you coo, enveloping your arms around his neck, "we both know just how much you love to hear me talk."

"Mhm," he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, "yes, I reckon you're right."

His big hand covers nearly half of your face as he holds you still, crashing your lips together. He kisses you deeply, vigorously, in a way that makes you wonder if you could possibly drown in a person's essence. His other palm slides between your bodies to start undoing the buttons of the flannel —his flannel— you were wearing. You can't help but whine when he draws back, watching you from above.

"Joel-" blood rushes through your ears and can feel your cheeks warm up as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers coasting down your throat and to the valley of your breasts, licking his lips when he sees your hardened nipples.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he speaks freely, without holding back emotion, and it makes your heart skip a beat. "Such a sweet, sweet girl I can't get enough of."

"Then take a picture," you purr, "it'll last longer."

He stares at you through a measuring squint, a lighthearted smile forming on his face. "Since you insist." It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, until you finally recall that there's actually a camera inside your purse; one that he reaches for. "If I remember correctly... You said I could take as many as I like."

You lightly squeeze his waist with your thighs, feeling your whole body burn with anticipation. "I did say that..."

"Let's just pray your dad won't find these hanging around," he ponders, turning your face slightly to the side. "He'll have my head."

"And that would be terrible..."

He takes the Polaroid with one hand, the other coming to grope your breast as he backs off for a better angle, ultimately deciding to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck instead, purely holding you there. You glance at the lens, making your best "fuck me" eyes added to a cheeky smile, hearing him curse under his breath prior to snapping the picture.

"You've got the prettiest fucking tits I've even seen, sweetheart," he snarls, laying a palm flat over your lower abdomen while he waited for the photo.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got such a marvelous way with words?" he suppressed a laugh, safeguarding the picture on the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just a few women." Before you can even begin to act annoyed, he sets the camera aside and leans down to kiss your collarbones, the pad of his thumb kneading circles around your sensitive nipple. "Look at you, honey," he murmurs, "you're so easy to please... Or is it just because of me?"

You're panting, your back arching in response to his constant ministrations, every inch of your skin blushing under his attention. "I think it's-" you're cut off by the sudden need to swallow when he sucks a mark on the vulnerable skin between your breasts, "you."

His body vibrates with a laugh and you feel his hand palm your clothed sex, dragging his tongue over your delicate nipple, gently nibbling at it. You screw your eyes shut and let a single, fluttery moan slide past your lips when his thumb nudges your clit.

"So wet just from giving head?" Joel shakes his head in fake disapproval. "Who knew you were such a horny little thing?"

You are holding onto his bicep for dear life, fearing you might collapse into oblivion if you part from his body. His index glides across your slit over the drenched cotton fabric, making you squirm beneath him.

"You- you tasted good," you babble, mind all over the place.

"Yeah?" his chest swells with pride, "you should taste yourself, angel," his mouth travels across your abdomen, "sweetest thing I've ever had."

It's pointless trying to conjure a response, you're simply too far gone by now. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your thighs, flattening his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You whimper, running your fingers through his locks and bucking your hips to meet his face.

"Please," you blurt out, "Joel, please..."

"What, sweetheart?" he asks, moving the underwear aside to directly touch your clit, fondling it as he watched your slick coat his fingers. "What do you want?" But you can't conceive an answer, all that could come out of your mouth were those pathetic, desperate moans. "Use your words."

With his free hand he plays with your nipple, grabbing your breast with his entire hand. "I want you."

He tauntingly moves his fingers around your seam, refusing to go any further. "Say it again."

"I want you, Joel."

Cocky bastard.

He licks his fingers clean and starts getting off the couch, leaving you with a confused, dumbfounded expression that nearly makes him crack up.

"You didn't really believe I'd be fucking you on the couch, did ya'?" he teases, but all you can muster up is a barely audible 'oh'. "Come on, let's take this to my room. And don't forget to bring that camera of yours."

Mind still dazing, you obey his instructions, following him silently upstairs as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. For a second, he glances back at you, gifting a soft, reassuring grin before extending his arm to grab your fingers, holding your hand in a pure, intimate touch.

And just for that moment, you forget that he's actually your dad's oldest friend, that he's Sarah's father or any other thought of the sort. He's just Joel. Joel Miller, the only man that has managed to make you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, or that made you blush with merely a few compliments.

"Ask me to kiss you," he urges, taking the camera from your hands and carefully placing it on his bedside table, his eyesight fixed on you.

"Kiss me," you don't ask, you downright beg.

He does, though it's not like the previous times. He's tender, almost languid about it. His hands are on your bare hips while yours cup his cheeks; Joel's fingers reach to remove the flannel from your shoulders and moves his lips to the newly exposed skin, murmuring constant admirations. You feel your lungs clench and a tingly sensation on your lower belly.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'." You let the shirt slide down your arms and fall to the floor. "Gonna show you what you've been missin' out on by fooling around with those stupid boys." His words go straight to your core as he takes a step back to sit on the edge of his bed. "Take them off," he gestures to the last piece of clothing on your body.

You compel to his wish, stripping under his prying eyes while he lazily gets rid of his boots. His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the glistening mess he's made of you, promptly dragging you on top of him. Your hands lay flat on his exposed chest shortly before he switches positions, readjusting you on the middle of the bed.

"Joel, please just-" you whine when he keeps playing with your entrance, stretching you with his fingers. Your skin scorches with desire, knees weak from the growing heat on your lower body.

"Stop nagging, sweetheart," he grits through his own lust, his gaze impossibly dark. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Joel, I'm too worked up, I-" you gasp when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that particular spot that made your toes curl. "Fuck..."

"Come on, baby." He ducks down to kiss the skin behind your ear and his beard tickles nicely. "It's just the two of us now, feel free to be as loud as you need to."

His pants are undone and hanging loosely on his hips, the image being so blatantly erotic that only managed to get you more aroused as you fumble to get rid of his shirt. He chuckles at your eagerness, shrugging it out of the way and haphazardly kicking off his jeans and underwear altogether, discarding them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You take a second to revel on his naked figure, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, the marked collarbones and every noticeable mole. His hair is messy from your fingers, a thin layer of sweat sticks some curls to his temples as his wild, hungry eyes bask in the view of your sopping pussy when he parts your shaky legs further. But the moment of appreciation is brief, both of you being edged and spurred on.

He maneuvers a hand to your lower back and aligns your hips with his, watching the way your hole drips for him, wetting his bedsheets. You're a panting mess beneath him, lightly scratching his shoulder-blades and biting on your bottom lip, looking up at him doe-eyed and all splayed out for him to take. Joel wants to tell you just how badly he's longed for this— how he's been yearning to have you so achingly bad. But right now, feelings overrun his thoughts, especially after hearing his name spilling from your lips, begging for him to take you.

"Relax, darlin'." Joel teases your slit with the head of his cock, rubbing it along your sex and coating it with your slick. Your head tilts backwards, dipping on his pillows, small whines keep spilling from your mouth. "I won't go easy on you."

"Great, cause I don't want you to-" your slurred words get muffled by the sudden feeling of intrusion as he finally buries himself in your cunt, letting out a filthy, guttural groan.

You close your eyes, feeling lightheaded and staggered from the way he was filling you up so nicely, the stretch being a tad painful at first, but the kind of pain that could only ever feel good. Then your whole body quivers from head to toe.

"That's it, you can take it," he mutters, peppering kisses to your chin and collarbones as he bottoms out. "Fuck, you feel divine-" The tight, warm grip you welcome him with resembles nothing he's ever had before. This is new, this is you.

You bear down on his cock, enveloping your legs around his waist and lifting your hips to encourage him. He holds you down with a firm grip around your neck, starting to set a pace with his hips as he draws out and then back in slowly, roughly, making your back arch. Your erect nipples brush against his strong chest and create a delightful friction that has you moaning louder than you could've expected. You're amazed by the way he thrusts into you, somehow mindful to hit every right spot inside you —needless to say that it was something that others could hardly manage before—, his pubic hair tickles the skin below your belly button, sending shivers down your spine that prompt you to drag your nails down his back.

"Look," he indicates, despite your inability to even think straight. "Look," he repeats harshly, using the hand that was on your hips to tilt your head downwards, forcing you to stare at where your bodies connected. It was obscene, the wet noises of your pussy and skin clapping against skin sounding purely pornographic. "Look at the mess you're making."

"Joel, I-" you can't form sentences properly, all your attention being focused on how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, for god's sake..."

"Lemme help with that," he speaks breathlessly, pining your leg over the crook of his elbow to make his thrusts deeper, more precise. You cry out in bliss, feeling the heat expanding from your stomach to your legs. "Yeah, you're close, I can fuckin' feel it- fuck..."

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his dick just right. He knows he's in too deep when you call out his name like it's the only word you can remember, when he wallows in the glorious view of your pretty face contorted in pleasure. He looses the grip on your neck and strokes your lower lip with his thumb, prodding you to keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. It's electrifying, a feverish kind of sensation that gratifies every nerve on your body.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, overcame by the intense feeling of euphoria that your body was providing. You realize in that moment that the reason why Joel could fill that void so easily was because he kept prioritizing you above him. Your pleasure was his, too.

"Jesus Christ, Joel-" you mewl when he abruptly pulls out, “… Worth the wait.”

He laughs shakily, kissing your lips shortly. "Turn around, sweetheart. I want to fuck you from behind."

With a buzzing dizziness, you follow his instruction. God, right now you'd do just about anything if he asked you to. You notice movement from his part and patiently wait with your butt up in the air for him to stuff you again; instead, you hear the familiar clicking sound of the Polaroid camera.

"You fucker," you chuckle, "did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Couldn't help myself," he groans, caressing the soft flesh before lightly slapping it. "You look too damn gorgeous." The hit on your skin burns nicely and you can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shit- do that again..."

You can practically hear his smile when he talks, "You into that?" he repeats the action with a little more force and the pain sends a shock of pure pleasure between your legs, your own fluids dripping down your thighs. "F'course you are, I should've guessed with that attitude of yours."

He plays with your swollen pussy, enjoying your tiny moans and the way your legs tremble as you fist the sheets underneath you, burying your face on his pillow when he spanks you again— this time so hard that it probably left a mark. But before the sting washes away he takes the opportunity to enter you in one swift move, holding your hips steady and trailing his fingers along your spine.

"That's my sweet girl," he praises a midst, starting to grind his cock inside you. "Taking me like you were made for it."

This is way more intense, the angle allowing him to hit deeper, harsher. His gruff moans become more frequent as he speeds up his pace, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. The sensation was purely fantastic, melting every thought away and just leaving Joel Miller to fill you in every sense of the word. His hands are never still, roaming your responsive areas, caressing the most sensitive and always taking care of your aching clit.

You might cry from the overwhelming ecstasy— the way his tip constantly hits the depths of your cunt with each relentless thrust has you seeing stars. Joel gets a thrill from the way you can't seem to get enough of him either, throwing your hips back to meet his unwavering pace, clawing at the pillows and moaning helplessly, pushing him close to his climax.

"Joel, it's too much..." you mumble. "Please, I can't-"

He hunches over you, kissing your nape to ease the overpowering sensations, "Yes, you can. You're a big girl, you can take it." And then your vision goes blurry, all you're able to hear being his disjointed, lewd moans; all you can feel is his hard, hot body flushed to yours, his cock twitching inside you and the wetness of your own body. "That's it, give me another one, baby- fuuuck..."

The buildup is so strong you nearly collapse, feeling yourself tremble as he chases his orgasm, fucking you through yours. His fingers reach your bundle of nerves and apply barely any pressure, which has you coming undone in seconds, absolutely soaking his dick and the sheets beneath you, chanting his name like a prayer. A string of curses falls from his lips as he pulls out and quickly manhandles your fucked out self to lay on your back. He exhales sharply through his nose, spilling his load all over your stomach without even touching himself.

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath and looking intently at each other’s eyes before he rolls over, going limp beside you. You stare blankly at de ceiling, suddenly feeling aggressively aware of your sticky skin covered in sweat and cum, the numbness on your lower body that will surely feel sore in the morning and all the marks he's left dispersed on you. You feel satisfied, fulfilled even. Joy bubbles up your chest and comes out in form of a giggle, one you're unable to hold back.

"What?" he asks, turning his face towards you with a half-smile.

"I don't know, I just..." you shake your head, still laughing. "I don't know."

He chortles in disbelief, holding out a hand to take some tissues from the bedside drawer and going to swipe his mess off your tummy and inner thighs. "Shit, I think I might’ve just fucked the sense out of ya'."

Joel sets himself between your parted legs, laying the weight of his upper body on top of you, resting his chin on your chest, eyes boring into yours. He looks so young like this, despite the greying hair and the small wrinkles, his beautiful brown orbs sparkle ever so brightly under your attentive gaze.

"What will your dad say when he returns and finds out his only daughter has completely lost her mind?" he jokes, cradling you in his big arms.

"Come on," you roll your eyes playfully, "we both know that if I had been in my right mind since the beginning, I probably wouldn't be in your bed right now." He doesn't reply, but his smile doesn't fade either. Joel nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse zone briefly before closing his eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp in utter silence.

The wind was howling outside, rustling the tree branches, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your ribs, his deep breaths fanning across your shoulder and his unique scent all around you, on you. In spite of the cold air, your naked bodies are warm enough to stay comfortably in this position, at least for a while— however, there's something deep inside you that doesn't want this moment to end.

"Hey," you call him lowly and he hums in response, "can we order pizza?"

He nods faintly, "Anything you want, honey."

Anything.

If only.

"I'll call," you say. "Any specific requests?"

"As long as there isn't any pineapple on it, we're fine." You glance down at him, almost appalled.

"You don't like pineapple on pizza?"

"No. That's disgusting, come on."

"Oh, grow up!" he opens his mouth to retort, but when he sees your dismayed expression he can merely bark a laugh that you get infected with.

"Order whatever you want," he whispers in your ear. "But you'll have to promise something."

"What's that?" you raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Say you'll stay," he murmurs, slightly hesitant. "Stay here and spend the night with me."

The proposal takes you by surprise, so much that you actually stopped breathing. You ponder wether if you could or you should; because, at the end, what would a night really mean? What could possibly change?

Nothing, right?

Besides, no one had to know.

(...)

A few moments later you're downstairs looking for your phone, wearing nothing other than his green flannel. Joel decided to take a shower while you ordered the food and you chose to walk around the house, paying attention to the little details you hadn't quite noticed before.

Now that you see it, there are plenty of horse images here and there. Very Texan of Joel, you can't deny. Lots of pictures of Sarah growing up, some of him and Tommy and a good deal with your dad. None of his ex-wife. In fact, there's no proof that she even existed. You decide not too think too hard about it, since it was none of your business after all.

You pour yourself a glass of water and wander your eyes across the amount of pills he usually takes. Anxiety pills, painkillers, vitamins. What could possibly be troubling this middle-aged man so bad? Again, you decide to turn a blind eye and simply pick up the phone, expecting a message from your dad to tell you he arrived in Boston well and safe. Instead, you find that your direct messages in social media have new requests. Curious, you open them to see what the fuzz was about.

Hi!

This is Will

I don't know if Sarah mentioned me...

I'm her English teacher, haha

I hope you don't find this creepy, your profile popped up in my 'people you may know' section and since Sarah said she wanted to introduce us, I thought I might just say hi 😉

Honestly, with everything that went down you had nearly forgotten about Sarah's 'you should hang out with people your age' speech. And now that you were stalking his profile, he appeared to be maybe a couple years older than you— handsome in a boyish, intelectual way, if that made sense. Apparently, he studied in New York too, and lived in Queens.

Hi!

Yeah, I reckon she did

What's up, Queens? :)

You don't really expect a reply, not giving much thought to anything in the moment. Though, an involuntary smile twitches your lips when there's a quick message that reads "Not much, Brooklyn" and the writing bubble underneath.

After all, having a friend in Austin wouldn't hurt.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #smut

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myusuchaa · 19 days

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ikemen villains: my recs and route/suitor rankings ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

disclaimer: these are my opinions based on the current released routes in both ENG and JP. i tend to love dark psych thrillers, lots of angst and pining, great banter between characters/lively convos, and a captivating plot, so that's what influences my ranks~ will update with future releases

figured I’d post my thoughts here!! in case anyone is a bit newer to ikevil and is curious OR if anyone has similar interests as me I’d love to squeal about them with you!! ♡

₊˚ପ⊹ROUTE RANKINGS

rank is based on: written flow, plot, descriptive language and emotional pull, uniqueness

1. Elbert

2. Alfons

3. Roger

4. Ellis

5. William

6. Liam

7. Harrison

₊˚ପ⊹SUITOR RANKINGS

rank is based on: how much I fell for them, their likability, personality traits, inner monologues from his side stories, overall character story, their interactions with others

1. Elbert

2. Alfons

3. Ellis

4. Liam

5. Roger

6. Harrison

7. William

₊˚ପ⊹ROUTE RELEASE TIMELINE

Beginning trio (JP/ENG): William, Liam, Harrison

Aug. 1st (JP/ENG): Elbert

Nov. 14th (JP): Alfons

Mar. 19th (JP): Ellis

Jul. 23rd (JP): Roger

my thoughts & recs on each suitor's route (no spoilers)

William: such an interesting take on love. maybe because of his curse but his route is up there with feeling the most historical, period-piece fantasy like (along with elbie and roger imo). he's a very unique LI i honestly felt like his route would do well as a 3 episode anime OVA ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ i recommend him if you like a more undefined approach to love, contractual partnership, mature and refined guys and not-so-innocent MC's

Liam: a precious bb ahh, and his VA is so amazing at emotional inflections! liam really shines in being attentive to kate and to the other crown members, i loved how he treated her in his route. i recommend if you don't mind self-deprecating guys, if you like drama and whirlwind romance, and if you enjoy a relationship built on assurance.

Harrison: the best soft opening to ikevil imo. quite a tame route with very real world problems as opposed to dark fantasy. if anyone stays true to his self, it's harry! he has some funny one liners too lol. i recommend him if you like intelligent sarcastic LIs, you like noir crime vibes, and if you don't want a heavy read.

Elbert: i mean he is my oshi for a reason! every time i read his route i fall more in deep love.. the localization team did an amazing job w the translation. i think his POV stories are the best. they add so much to his qualities and i feel really boosts his story. i recommend his route if you love yearning, emotional understanding, tragedy, dark psych thrillers, and slow (but dramatic) burn stories

Alfons: i used to hate him with a passion... until i loved him. his route truly is the definition of "fuck around and find out" keeping you on your toes. i loved the depth he has and how dubious they made him. i recommend his route if you like word/roleplay, morally grey characters, if you like having to guess at things without ever being told the answer, and a "we shouldn't be doing this but.." kinda feeling

Ellis: this man had me doing mental gymnastics to understand his true motives and i looooved that. visuals are also top tier. what i noticed is his route really focuses on his time with kate and has a bit more of a mundane (as mundane can be in ikevil) plot compared to other routes. this let his interactions with kate shine. i recommend ellis if you like hidden duality in a suitor, puppy boys that will do anything for you, a love that feels like a warm blanket, and you're ok with no real character growth (conditional love)

Roger: honestly i put off his route cus i wasn't interested at first but by the third chapter i was like WOW this is a breath of fresh air. the writers showed UP for part 2, i love the new plot points introduced, and his interactions with kate are sooo good. i loved his letters too! i ended up finding him extremely supporting and with a slight gap moe which kept me interested. i recommend this route if you like stories that are plot AND character driven, back and forth banter between MC and LI, and a shojou traditional charismatic love!

#ikemen villains #cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikevil #ikevil william #ikevil elbert #ikevil ellis #ikevil roger #ikevil liam #ikevil harrison #ikevil alfons #len'smusings࿐#review #recommendation #otome #イケメンヴィラン #dark fantasy #mobage

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drdemonprince · 2 months

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i would pay so much fucking money for a devon price novel and i am not joking. tell me where to preorder that shit. or drop your reccs 👉👈 (yes i have read bluebeard’s castle)

Thank you for the support! I'm about 25k words in of what should be about 100k words by the end (pray for me that i dont get too Loquacious), and that's before several deep rounds of editing and then deciding what the fuck I want to actually do with this thing (serializing on a separate Substack is one idea; self-publishing as an ebook is another, but I also might try to sell it to at least a small press), so you're quite a ways out from getting to read it. I've never properly SAT on a work of fiction before -- I've always worked on longer fiction live, publishing it chapter by chapter online, and I rush to get my short stories out too, but this one feels precious and I really want to get it right.

In the meantime, here are some fiction recommendations for you. Some of them are inspirations for this book, others are just fiction that I have read lately that really connected with me. Some of it might be informing completely separate work, nothing to do with this novel. They're approximately in the order of most to least likely to connect with you, if you enjoyed Bluebeard's Castle by Anna Biller:

Beautiful World, Where Are You? by Sally Rooney

My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin

Darryl by Jackie Ess

The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind

American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis (lots of people think the novel version is far inferior to the movie, but I read it after becoming enchanted by the musical adaptation and now I am a stan of just, gosh everything to do with it)

the novel project is also really strongly informed by the games Life is Strange, LiS Before the Storm, and Who's Lila. a little bit of gone girl and queer as folk is swirled around in there too. astute readers of this blog will by now see why this project is so close to my heart. an entire lifetime of shit i care about is getting packed into here

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orcasoul · 4 months

Text

I'll Come Back For You

Summery: Letting go is hard to do for both of you. But as they say, if you love someone, you have to let them go.

Warnings: Death, Grieving, Mention of Injury, Swearing, No Use of Y/N.

Italics indicate inward thinking.

Joel sat on the porch swing, staring lovingly at how the late evening rays illuminated the varying deep shades of your hair, how it flowed down past your shoulders and blew gently in the summer breeze. God you're a work of art. He'd taken so much for granted before, but now, every time he casts his gaze upon you he savours each and every second.

The slope of your nose, the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the few strands that have began to turn grey, even the way you hold yourself. If Joel had his way, these moments would never end. These are the moments when his life makes sense. Where he can breathe and just.... be. Where the gnarled roots of wretched sorrow and anger briefly release their strangling grip on his tormented soul.

In these precious moments, in your presence he can once again feel a spark of life ignite inside him, can almost feel the broken shards of his heart piecing themselves back together. He doesn't care how many times Tommy and Ellie have expressed their concern for his mental well being, or how they've begged him to open up to them and not shut them out. He doesn't need their pity or 'support'. You're all he needs.

"You're staring again," you chuckle, while turning to stare at Joel's warm eyes. A fond smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I guess I am," he replies softly, but his tone is anything but apologetic. "I just can't help it. You're so beautiful." You smile sadly, looking down at Joel's hand. You reach over, instinct and love propelling you to take hold and lace your fingers with his.

But at the last moment, you stop and drop your hand to your lap. There was no need to look at Joel to know the anguish and longing written all over his face. Hell, you feel it too. The deep rooted need to feel each other's skin and warmth is overwhelming for you both. But it's no use. It can't happen now.

"So are you," you whisper affectionately. Your smile fades and Joel furrows his brow in confusion. "You've been awful quiet this evening, sweetheart. Something on your mind?" Joel asks, his voice laced with concern. You close your eyes and sigh. You don't want to answer. You don't want to have to do this, but it's for the best.

This cannot be ignored anymore. You refuse to sit by and watch the man you love retreat further and further into himself, downing in a sea of sorrow. As long as you are here, you are a painful reminder. You had hoped your presence would have helped Joel to come to terms with what happened, reassuring him that it was beyond his control.

There was nothing anyone could have done. But for all your efforts, you can see now that your being here means Joel is stuck in limbo. He needs to find a way forward, to find something to keep fighting for, and you fear that can't happen unless you give him the space grieve and heal.

"Joel...," your voice wobbles as you struggle against the lump in your throat. "It's time. You need to let me go. You have to allow yourself to move on." Joel's soulful brown eyes meet yours, glistening with unshed tears and you feel your heart breaking for him. 'I... I can't," his voice almost sounds pleading, "I can't do this without you."

He desperately wants to hold you, to keep you in his arms forever. He's never loved any woman the way he loves you. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the depth of his devotion and affection for you. You are (were) his life, his joy, the very beat of his heart, a missing piece of his soul.

He can't do this, not again. How can he even put one foot in front of the other if you are not in step with him? Without you he will remain hollow, aimless, just a simple lifeform existing from one day to the next. You take a shuddering breath, hoping your next words can convince him.

"Yes, you can, baby. You're the strongest person I know. I know it will be hard and I'm sorry... "I"m so sorry it has to be like this-," "Don't," Joel cut you off gently, shaking his head, "You have nothing to apologise for," "Neither do you," you reply, matter of factly. Joel looked straight ahead, his jaw ticking as he tries to tamp down the anger festering away inside of him.

The self loathing he deserves for failing another person he loves. "I should have been there to protect you." "Oh Joel," you sigh, sadly, "How many times do I have to say it? We cannot control everything around us. You need to accept that life has it's own plan and what will happen, will happen. It's. Not. Your. Fault." You enunciate the last sentence with conviction, tears threatening to chock you at the obvious ruination haunting Joel's visage.

Even from his side profile the pain is clearly evident. A moment of silence follows, after which, Joel turns to face you, eyes redened, tears now trailing the curve of his cheeks. "I love you so much," his pained words are barely above a whisper, as if his grief is physically crushing his windpipe. "And I love you. I always have," you reply softly as your own tears begin to fall.

You want nothing more than to comfort him, to take him in your arms and shield him from his suffering, to wipe his tears away and kiss his soft salt and pepper curls. But it's impossible and you feel so helpless, so useless.... and you hate that. How cruel its, to be so close and yet, so far away.

"And that's why...," you take a deep breath, your own sorrow weighing heavily on you with what you now have to do. "I have to go." Joel's eyes widen but before he can protest, you continue, "I'm sorry," the regret choking you is stifling, "I wanted to help you find a way through this, but I can see now that I'm doing more harm than good. You need to be able to mourn, Joel. And you need to accept the love and support of those around you. You still have family here and they want so desperately to help you, but you've pushed them away. I can't bare to see you wasting away like this."

Somewhere, deep down Joel knew that this time would come, he knew you couldn't stay here forever, but how the hell can he let you go? It would be like expecting him to live without breath in his lungs. "Please, y... you can't go..." Joel's voice wavered as he continued., "I... I can't lose you again, sweetheart." You try to reassure him with a gentle smile, "You'll never never truly lose me, darling."

A sad sigh escapes you, "But you will lose yourself if you continue down this path, and I won't let that happen. Ellie and Tommy are so worried about you. You need them, even if you don' realise it." "How am I supposed to live every day without you? I just...," Joel lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his hand over his face, "I Cant. I've lost too much. I can't do it again."

The defeat in Joel's voice, his eyes, his posture causes your gut to twist up. You want to stay, it's tearing you apart inside, feeling as though you're abandoning him in his hour of need. But staying would only make things worse in the long run. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions for the greater good. It will be hard for him, but he still has so much to live for, so much love to give, even if he's blind to it right now.

"Joel," you began, voice gentle but firm, "You can. The Joel Miller I know can do anything he puts his mind too." A barely visible smile appears at one corner of Joel's mouth, but as soon as it appears, it's gone. "I want you to do something for me, darling," " anything!" Joel replies in earnest. If you could physically caress his cheek right now, you would. It feels so wrong to not be able to touch him. All you can do is shuffle closer and lean into his tired face.

"I want you to promise me that you'll keep going, that you'll allow yourself to feel everything you need to, and that you'll lean on your family. Promise me that you'll live the best life that you can for yourself, for them... and for me, please." Joel is lost for words. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he must have done something good at some point for the universe to bring you to him. He doesn't deserve the endless love and concern you continue to bestow upon him, even in death.

Your bright and hopeful eyes bring Joel a sense of clarity. This is the last thing he can do for you, the last thing you'll ever ask of him, and he will do it, for you. No matter how difficult it will be. He suddenly doesn't feel so lost and adrift anymore. You have given him a new purpose. He will honour your last request until his dying breath. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Joel whispers, "I promise."

You release a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders at Joel's reassurance. He'll be alright. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll come back for you. One day, we'll be together again. But I have to go now," you pause, trying to fight the tears that threaten to fall again, "I won't say goodbye, cause this isn't goodbye. It's see you later."

Joel swallows the sob trying to climb up his throat. His heart is screaming at him to beg you to stay, but he knows when your mind is made up, it's made up. And you've decided he needs this. As much as he can't fathom not seeing you again for god knows how long, he takes comfort in knowing this separation is temporary. He will hold you again, laugh with you again and spend eternity by your side.

"I love you," Joel sniffled, knowing this is it, woe burying itself deeper into his soul. "I love you too," you declare, devotedly. "see ya later?" The words leave Joel's lips as a hopeful question. "See ya later," you confirm lovingly, and with that you fade into the soft golden twilight.

6 Years Later...

Joel couldn't focus, his eyelids like lead and his body trembling. The voices around him seemed distant and muffled one second, then loud and sharp the next. Throbbing pain bloomed through his torso, exacerbated by each breath he took. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do?" Was that Tommy? "You can't just give up on him!" Tommy shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and fear.

"I'm so sorry, but all we can do now is try to make him as comfortable as we can." Darkness encompassed Joel as the voices began to fade once more. When his eyes opened again, he's met with the grave faces of Ellie and Tommy. He tries to sit up but his limbs feel too heavy, even turning his head is a challenge, and the oppressive atmosphere shrouding the room tells Joel the situation is... bad.

"What-" "Shhh...," soothed Ellie with tears in her eyes. "You're in the hospital." Joel swallowed thickly, wincing as his body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He slowly turned his head to see Tommy standing at the other side of his bed. His blotchy, tear streaked face caused Joel's stomach to twist up in knots. At that moment, it all came rushing back to him.

The ambush while on patrol with Tommy, the broken baseball bat protruding from him (again), Tommy heaving his battered body onto his own horse so he could keep him upright on the journey back. He's been in dire situations more times than he'd like to remember but this time it's... different, both Tommy and Ellie's sombre mien thickening the atmosphere as every second passes.

And that's when it dawned on Joel; This isn't just bad, this is something he won't come back from. "Tell me...," Joel mumbled, weakly. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even, "The uh... the doctor..," Tommy lowered his head, shaking it as if in disbelief. Normally, Joel would snap at Tommy to 'spit it out' whenever he fumbled his words, but not this time. Not when his baby brother is clearly struggling to keep it together.

Tommy sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Joel's. "The doctor said you have internal bleeding and uh... there's nothing more they can do." Nothing more they can do. The words echo loudly in Joel's ears. He's had many close calls over the years. He'd used up his nine lives a long time ago and now his number was up. Our luck had to run out sooner or later. Tess' last words return as a grim reminder of the fragility of life in this world.

A part of Joel always knew he'd meet his end sooner rather than later, but being faced with that reality now.... well, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for this moment, the finality of his tumultuous life. Joel remained still, staring up at the ceiling while it sank in, a barrage of emotions crashing over him, simultaneously; Fear of the unknown, worry for the family he'll leave behind, regret for so many past mistakes, but also... acceptance. After everything he feels unexpectedly ready.

He'd kept his promise to you everyday for the past six years. He'd rebuilt his fragile relationship with Ellie. It took many deep and uncomfortable conversations and he always gave her space when she needed it, but slowly the cracks disappeared and the two became closer than ever, he even became a doting grandpa to JJ and a devoted uncle to Dylan.

The past mistakes with Tommy could never truly be erased, but he and Tommy both came to realise that they couldn't and more importantly, didn't want to dwell on it anymore, even Maria had come to accept Joel and gave him a second chance to start over with no animosity between them. He'd done that for you, just as you'd asked of him. Everyday Joel had kept your memory alive as he'd lived the best life he could, and now he's reached the end.

"Joel...," Ellie's quivering voice broke through Joel's hazy mind. The woefulness behind her tears caused Joel's heart to clench. "Come here, kiddo," comforted Joel as he slowly lifted an arm to embrace his adopted daughter. Her warm tears fell onto his neck as he gently rubbed the back of her head. "It's...okay. It'll be okay," he gulped while trying to be strong for her. "How can it be okay? How will any of us be okay without you?" Ellie wept, voice shaking with each breath.

"You're strong and you h... have people who care about you. Don't make the sa... same mistake I did," Joel told her as he thought about how he spent so long pushing people away. "I love you," she breathed out quietly into his ear, and Joel closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. "I love you too, baby girl. You take good... care of JJ,... you hear me?" "I will," Ellie promised. Joel then looked to Tommy, who's head hung low in shame and remorse. "This is my fault," his jaw clenched in anger, the same way Joel's always does, "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been quicker, should have killed that bastard sooner!"

"Hey...," Joel gently interrupted, "It's not your... fault. We were outnumbered." Tommy shook his head, seemingly unable to accept his failure. "Tommy," Joel began, in a no nonsense tone, causing his brothers' eyes to meet his own, "You got us out... of there and got us home. That's what... matters! So don't you dare b... blame yourself for th... this.

Tommy was speechless for a moment. He grabbed Joel's hand and asksed, "Who's gonna keep my ass in check around here now?" "I'm s...sure Maria has that covered...," it was becoming more difficult for Joel to talk, "and if not this one will do the job," he quipped, pointing to Ellie with a small chuckle but he immediately winced as shooting pains radiated around his lower abdomen. "Easy...," Tommy rested a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder.

As the hours wore on, Joel became weaker, his breathing more laboured. Medication helped to ease the worst of the pain, even though, at first he refused it, insisting that it was pointless to waste it on him. It was only after Ellie had begged him to take it, that he finally relented. Maria and Dina came to say a teary farewell but left the children with a babysitter, as Joel didn't want their last memories of him to be a bruised and bloodied man on his deathbed.

Day bled into night. Ellie and Tommy kept vigil at Joel's bedside while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Joel became even more breathless, his golden hue became pale and clammy. It wouldn't be long now. A sombre silence filled the air, holding more weight than any words could. But even if Joel wanted to speak, he found he suddenly lacked the strength to even open his mouth. An exhaustion he'd never experienced before swept over him like a warm blanket, along with a bone deep, desperate need to sleep. Just for a bit. I'll sleep just for a bit.

*****

"Joel?..." a warm hand on his cheek and a soft voice he'd know anywhere, resounded in his ears like a sweet melody. His eyes shot open and he gasped in shock as he took in the image of you standing beside him and... touching him! Maybe he's dreaming? "Hi, baby," you smiled down at him with tears in your eyes, stroking his patchy jaw, tenderly. "You're here," he sputtered in disbelief.

"I promise I'd come back for you," you replied soothingly. And that's when Joel knew without a doubt he's not dreaming. As if on instinct Joel reached for your hand, clasping it in his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressed his lips to your soft palm. "I missed you," he cried, unable to believe that the moment he's waited years for is finally upon him. How he missed your delicate touch.

He'd dreamed of your embrace every night for the past six years, and now at long last, it's real. Joel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling himself up, the absence of pain and the rejuvenation of his 'body', another confirmation of his new reality. Joel wastes no time pulling you into his broad chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You breathe in his woodsy and coffee scent, while at the same time Joel's nose buries itself in your hair, slowly inhaling your scent, one hand splayed across your back and the other cupping the back of your head. Tears stream down both of your faces as years of longing and loneliness come to an end. Now only forever awaits. "I missed you too," you wept, "So much." "I did it, darling. I did it all for you, every day," Joel whispered into your ear. You pull back, enough to look into his eyes, eyes filled with relief and love.

Gently holding his cheek, you reply, "I know. And I'm so proud of you. Now you can rest, my love." As the tears begin to dry and emotions calm somewhat, Joel realises you two weren't the only one's crying. Turning around his heart sinks and chest tightens as he has to witness Tommy holding a sobbing Ellie, while his own tears silently fall. On the bed, Joel's body lies motionless, drained of colour but with a serene peace adorning his relaxed features.

He remains frozen to the spot, wide eyed until you slip your hand into his, giving him a supportive 'I'm here' squeeze. "They'll be okay." You smooth your other hand up and down his arm. "They have each other and their families. They'll take care of them. And when the time comes, we'll all be together again." Joel answers with a silent nod, squeezing your hand in return. You know Joel through and through, and you know that he's always taken it upon himself to care for and protect those he loves.

But now that responsibility is his his no more. It'll be hard for Joel to relinquish said responsibility, which has been the staple in his life, but he has faith in Tommy, knowing he'll look after Ellie. They're family, blood or not. He can rest in that knowledge. "Joel...," he brings his attention back to you, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smile plastered across your face. "I brought someone with me. Someone who has been waiting a long time to see you again."

Realisation of whom you are referring to flashes across Joel's face, but before the name can pass his lips, he hears the sweetest, most perfect voice say the word he hasn't been called in over twenty years. "Dad...," With bated breath, Joel slowly turned around, his mind struggling to function properly. There she is! His baby girl, standing in front of him, just as beautiful as he'd remembered her.

"Sarah...," Joel whispered in awe, frozen to the spot where he stood. 'Hi, old man," she smiled as she closed the gap between them. Her close proximity snapped Joel out of his statue like stance, quickly pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. "I missed you," she cried into his chest, while wrapping her arms around his waist. "I missed you too," Joel choked out, "It's okay baby girl, I'm here, I'm here," he comforted her as his own tears joined hers.

He tenderly drew her head back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes absorbing every beautiful inch of her features; Her expressive eyes that has passed onto her, that killer smile he'd always thought of so fondly, the blush of pink that always tinted her cheeks. God how he'd missed her. "You're grey," Sarah teased through her tears, running her fingers through his soft curls.

Joel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth and admiration. "Your beautiful." He pulls her in for another hug and turns his head to you. You are crying silent, happy tears for them both. Joel reaches out, silently beckoning you over. With his daughter under one arm and the woman he loves under the other, he now feels complete.

His post cordyceps life has led to this very moment, to be with the people he loves the most. Of course his heart aches at the thought of leaving Tommy and Ellie behind, but it won't be forever. You're right. It's his time to rest. Sarah takes his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing over the scars on his knuckles. "Let's go home," she said, softly, "We have much to talk about."

With one last glance over his shoulder and a nod of confirmation, Joel is ready. A bright mist hovers where a wall should be, a calm and quiet ambience emanating from within. Together, with linked hands the three of you slowly disappear as you walk through the veil into forever.

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