#i have ideas for a joel miller fic and i’m SO ready to write it but i’m writing it based off of the personality of joel from the game??

[chelseasdagger]

womp womp

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life'

Joel Miller x f! Reader

part ii

Summary: You get to spend your last night with Joel before he gets married to another woman.

w.c: 4k>

warning: angst, mentions of cheating. No proofreading, messy writing (possibly).

a/n: Well, hello. I wrote this because I had this idea in my head for a few days but now I don't feel like I completely wrote what I wanted. Nevertheless, here is it. Sorry if this is not my best work, but I wrote it in a rush and a part 2 could be possible. There's another fic I'm working on so I hope that's better than this one. Happy reading and I hope to have time soon to be back to writing 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Everyone around you could see it. The dilated pupils, the starry-eyed gaze, and the wide smile when you were with Joel. Everyone could see it, but Joel. You could also feel it, but it was forbidden. Being high over heels for your friend was almost a felony. Joel was your best friend, and he was getting married to another woman.

Your paths crossed the day you moved into your new house. The one next to his. You had gotten a glimpse of him a few times during your first days there. His messy hair and the crease between his eyebrows made him look in distress, running back and forth all the time, which made you want to know about him. A few days later, you learned from a neighbor that Joel was recently widowed with a small baby girl named Sarah, who had become his whole world. And you had gotten to meet him one day when he knocked at your doorstep, disheveled and with puffy eyes, carrying a crying baby girl tightly against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world, which, to him, she undoubtedly was.

"Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice as you noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Joel looked up, startled by the sound of your voice. His tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability before he composed himself. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a rough night. Sarah's been fussy, and I just..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced down at his daughter, then took a look at your clothes. You were wearing a strapless black dress, and when he glanced up at you, he almost got his air cut by your gorgeous face.

You were clearly getting ready to go out; after all, you were a young woman living next to his, and as far as he could tell, you were single.

“I’m sorry, you... You are leaving. I don’t know why I came here,” he said.

Without hesitation and ignoring Joel’s words, you reached out and gently rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to come in?" you offered, gesturing to the warmth and comfort of your home.

Joel hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before he nodded gratefully. Stepping inside, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sank into the nearest chair. You followed suit, sitting across from him and offering a sympathetic smile.

“I just came back home,” you said.

“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

���You said I was leaving. I’m not.” You smiled again, trying to contain the tinkle in your naked arms as you looked at the man in front of you.

"Oh,” he replied. "Oh," Joel repeated, his voice tinged with surprise as he processed your words. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah, who had quieted down in your presence.

After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I, um, actually came here because... I need some help," he admitted quietly, his eyes avoiding yours.

You nodded, understanding dawning as you realized the weight of responsibility that Joel carried as a single parent. "Of course," you said softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to help however I can."

Joel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over his tired features. "Thank you," he murmured, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and Sarah... she deserves better."

Sarah.

You had learned the baby’s name was Sarah.

“My wife died during labor,” he confessed.

As Joel's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing. Your heart ached for him, knowing the pain he must have endured losing his wife, especially under such tragic circumstances.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

Joel nodded, his expression haunted as he stared off into the distance. "It's been... it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to face," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But Sarah... she's been my anchor. My reason to keep going." He paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m asking you if you can help me take care of her just for tonight. I just have this thing with my brother, and I found out you’re a teacher, so I suppose you’re good with kids.”

“Wait…how… How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Joel blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hesitated for a moment before his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, well... I may have asked around the neighborhood," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, finding his awkwardness endearing. "I see," you said with a playful smile. "Well, you're right. I am a teacher. And I'd be more than happy to help take care of Sarah tonight."

Relief washed over Joel's features, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, really. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of appreciation and vulnerability.

You nodded, understanding his need for support and reassurance, especially during such a challenging time. "Don't worry about it," you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sarah will be in good hands with me."

With that settled, Joel visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Since that day, you and Joel have become thick as thieves, and consequently, you have become Sarah’s best friend. The three of you became inseparable, sharing laughter and tears as you were there for each other through the ups and downs of life. Whether it was late-night diaper changes or spontaneous dance parties in the living room, you cherished every moment spent with both of them.

As Sarah grew older, she became not only Joel's whole world but yours as well. You watched with pride as she took her first steps, spoke her first words, and grew into a bright, curious toddler. And through it all, you were there by her side, offering guidance, love, and endless patience.

But amidst the joy and laughter, there was a bittersweet longing lingering in the air—a longing for something more, something you knew could never be. You buried your feelings deep within your heart, knowing that to act on them would only bring pain and heartache to those you loved most.

Of course you had dated; you went on dates, but they never worked out. No one was Joel, so you kept burying your love for him. You caught yourself in a complex web of emotion with that lingering ache for something more. What could have happened if you had talked before? But as much as you tried to bury your feelings for Joel, they remained a constant presence, a silent companion that followed you wherever you went.

And now, watching as Joel prepared for his upcoming wedding, the realization of his happiness with another woman cutting through you like a knife. Each detail of the ceremony seemed to magnify the distance between you, reminding you of the forbidden nature of your feelings.

Tess was a lovely woman, yet she didn’t completely like the idea that you and her soon-to-be husband were so close. Perhaps she sensed the depth of your connection with Joel, or maybe she simply felt threatened by the strong relationship you had forged with him and his daughter.

You tried your best to reassure Tess, to show her that your intentions were pure—that you were simply there to support Joel and Sarah in any way you could. But despite your efforts, there remained an underlying tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

However, you knew that after the wedding, you and Joel would grow apart, and you already had a plan to bear with the solace that would cause you.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight." Joel gushed, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “It feels like when Sarah fell asleep and stayed late talking.”

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face. It had taken a lot of work to become this good at faking it. You had conditioned yourself to smile at Joel and respond to his questions with excitement, as your insides felt like they were tearing apart from the thought of these being the last hours of Joel being single. But you didn’t have a choice.

Almost eight years of friendship had taken a toll on you. That was a lot of time to reconsider your feelings and come back with a new perspective, but you were just burying your feelings as you always do. You didn’t want to ruin Joel’s chance of happiness, and as soon as tomorrow arrived, you would play your role and then be out of his life.

“Are you excited?” Joel asked you.

“For you?” you asked, bringing your wine glass to your lips. “Of course,” you plastered your best smile at him, even though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Joel smiled back at you, tossing himself on the sofa, his hand over his chest as he breathed in and out rhythmically, watching as you stared at your glass of wine with a lost gaze.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, only watching you shrug.

“Don’t know.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Joel only hummed in response, looking around his living room before his eyes settled on the record player across the room, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Hun.”

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled, directing your gaze at him. You were just waiting to drift off to sleep.

“Do you remember our parties?”

Your eyes opened to look at Joel trying to piece together what he wanted to do. “I do, why?”

Without another word, Joel stood up and walked across the room to his record player, standing there with a tin of dust. Trying to look for the perfect disc and allow the melody to sweep through the house.

After his silence, you closed your eyes once again, just to abruptly open them to the familiar melody of the song playing through the house.

Out of touch, out of reach, yeah

You could try to get closer to me.

I’m in love; I’m in deep, yeah.

Hypnotized, I’m shaking to my knees.

Without a warning, Joel shot across the room to you, raising his hand for you to take it.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

You felt a rush of panic surge through you as Joel approached, his outstretched hand beckoning you to join him. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to escape the moment and the temptation to give in to the pull of the music and Joel's presence.

"I... I don't know, Joel," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you hesitated to take his hand. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to resist, to maintain the boundaries you had carefully erected between you and Joel. But as his warm gaze met yours, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked within you—a longing, a yearning for something more.

Joel's expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Come on," he urged gently, his voice low and soothing. "Let's dance, just like old times."

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself relenting, allowing Joel to pull you to your feet and into his arms. As the music enveloped you both, you were transported back to a time when laughter and joy filled the air, when the weight of unspoken feelings had yet to cast its shadow over your friendship.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and in the warmth of Joel's embrace. But even as you swayed together in the dim light of his living room, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that tugged at the corners of your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat.

"I'm going to miss this, you know? Our late-night dance parties, just the two of us." You whispered.

“I’m not dying,” he replied, humored.

You pulled back to look at his face for a moment, finding the words you wanted to say. “I know, but it will be different.”

You found the same easy smile and the same playful glint that had always been there, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath.

"I know," Joel replied, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently. "Things are going to be different after tomorrow. But no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend; you know that, right?"

His words struck a chord within you, stirring a mix of emotions that you struggled to put into words. Part of you wanted to cling to Joel's reassurance, to hold onto the comfort of his friendship, even as the world around you shifted and changed. But another part of you couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring and whether things would ever truly be the same between you and Joel again.

"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "I know."

And as you continued to dance together in the dim light of Joel's living room, you couldn't help but wonder. What would happen after tomorrow?

You allowed yourself to inhale his perfume as you placed your head on his shoulder, containing the tears that threatened to spill.

There was silence.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.

As Joel's question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settled over you like a heavy fog. You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, holding a depth of curiosity and vulnerability that you hadn't expected.

"Have you ever been in love before?" He asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if he were searching for something in your answer, something beyond mere words.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the truth of your feelings threatening to spill out despite your best efforts to contain them. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Joel—not now, not when the walls you had built around your heart felt so fragile and precarious.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that had long been buried deep within you. "Yes, I have."

Joel's expression softened, and his heart exploded at the tiny thought of being the one you loved. “And... is it someone I know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal and how much to lay bare before him. But in the end, you couldn't deny him the truth, and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to finally speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.

"Maybe,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you met Joel's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

As the song ended, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confession lingering in the air like a palpable presence. You and Joel stood there, locked in a moment of uncertainty, each grappling with the implications of your words.

Joel's gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting feelings.

“Wait, you have to tell me so you can be the next one to get married?” Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's attempt to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the gravity of this situation inside you.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Any man would love to be with someone like you.” he encouraged.

“I can’t because that man is getting married tomorrow.” That's it. You had confessed your feelings for him.

A heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You could see the flicker of realization cross Joel's features, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words.

The warmth that had filled the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a palpable tension that wrapped around you both like a suffocating blanket. You watched as Joel's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions playing across his features—shock, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sadness.

"I... I don't know what to say," Joel finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't realize... I mean, I never thought..."

His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his gaze fixating on a spot on the floor as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his confusion and uncertainty pressing down on you—a heavy burden that threatened to crush you beneath its weight.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I didn't mean to... I never meant for things to get this complicated."

Joel shook his head; his expression hurt as he finally met your gaze once more. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "I just...”

You nodded in understanding, knowing that this revelation had changed everything between you, perhaps irreparably so. But even as the reality of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at finally speaking the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Joel's question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of your feelings. "I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether."

Joel's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek as he listened intently. "You could never lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my best friend, and nothing could ever change that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Joel's understanding and compassion. "I know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant keeping my feelings hidden."

“And you had to wait all these years just to tell me the night before I got married!” He raised his voice; he had never done it before.

Your heart clenched at Joel's raised voice, the rawness of his emotions cutting through you like a knife. "I know, I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I should have told you sooner; I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Joel's expression softened at your words, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "I'm not mad," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm just... I'm just surprised, that's all. I never knew."

His words trailed off, and you could see the turmoil churning beneath the surface, the weight of his impending marriage bearing down on him like a heavy burden. You reached out, tentatively placing your hand over his as you searched for the right words to ease his pain.

As the weight of your shared emotions hung heavily in the air, you and Joel sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other as if trying to decipher the unspoken words lingering between you. There was tension, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, and neither of you could resist its irresistible force.

With a trembling breath, you meet his eyes, knowing this would be the last time you would be this close to him.

His eyes also met yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within your own heart. And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and electrifying, Joel closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings, a silent confession of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world falling away to leave only the two of you, lost in the swirling tide of emotions that threatened to consume you both.

As Joel deepened the kiss, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell of the moment and pulling you both back to reality with a jolt. You reluctantly pulled away from each other, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to compose yourselves.

Joel's hand instinctively went to his pocket, retrieving his phone with a mixture of frustration and resignation. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing in confusion as he recognized the name flashing on the screen.

"It's Tess," he murmured, his voice tinged with apprehension as he answered the call. "Hey, Tess, what's up?"

You watched as Joel listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, his expression growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. Your heart sank as you realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before you, the weight of Joel's impending marriage casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy you had shared just moments before.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally ended the call, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered his phone. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"I have to go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tess needs me."

You nodded, your heart heavy with disappointment and resignation. "I understand," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the ache in your chest.

And with that, Joel gathered his things and made his way to the door.

“Joel.”

He stopped on his tracks by the door, looking at you without being able to look you in the eyes.

Joel's steps faltered at your words, his hand pausing on the doorknob as he turned to face you once more. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“I’m not coming tomorrow,” you said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the significance of your statement.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I mean, I can't be there tomorrow," you repeated, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “Not after this, so I’m going back to my house and I’ll move to New York just as I planned.”

“What?” Joel's voice wavered with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your words. He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading as if hoping you would take back what you had just said.

"Please, don't do this," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You can't just leave like this, not after everything that's happened between us."

You felt a pang of guilt at the anguish in Joel's voice, the weight of his words bearing down on you like a heavy burden. But you knew that staying would only prolong the inevitable, dragging out the pain and heartache for both of you.

"I have to," you said softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't stay here and watch you marry someone else, knowing how I feel about you. It's too much, Joel. I need to go."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the ache in your chest growing heavier with each passing moment. But despite the pain, you knew deep down that leaving was the only option, the only way to protect your heart from further damage.

Joel reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I... I need you here with me."

You met his gaze, the intensity of his words washing over you like a wave. But as much as you longed to stay, you knew that leaving was the only way forward, the only way to find peace and healing for your shattered heart.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned away from him. "But you just kiss me, and I feel sick because you cheated, and I won’t be the other woman.”

Joel's shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with anguish as he realized the depth of his mistake. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you. "I'll call off the wedding; I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just please, don't go."

“Do you even love me to do that?” you asked,

Joel's eyes widened at your question, his expression filled with a mixture of shock and desperation. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

The silence was defeating, and your heart sank at his response, the uncertainty in his words cutting through you like a knife. You had hoped for reassurance, for a declaration of love that would make everything right again, but instead, you were met with doubt and confusion.

And with that, you gathered your things and made your way to the door, leaving Joel standing alone in his living room, his heart breaking with every step you took away from him.

"You'll marry Tess, and I'll leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you disappeared from his sight.

The words echoed in Joel's mind long after you had gone. At that moment, Joel knew that he had to make a choice—one that would determine the course of his future and the fate of his heart. But as he sat alone in the silence of his living room, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever before.

[forever-rogue]

I have a Joel request 🥰 Maybe reader was pregnant when the beginning of the pandemic happened and they got separated until years later when they reunite and their kid is older?? Whether or not joel knows about the pregnancy is up to you 🫠

Fluffy and angsty if you wish, but please not too angsty cause my heart is still healing from that angst fic 😅💔

(I see someone has already brought up a similar idea, but I thought I'd request for your take on the story cause I can never get enough of your writing!!!)

AN | Don’t worry babe, I’ve got you! But really I love this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Joel?" your voice shook, and it was so painfully obvious that you were trying not to cry. Then again, a lot of people had been doing a lot of crying lately. You couldn't blame them; the world had basically ended.

And now it felt like yours was ending all over again. Fuck.

You padded into the living room of the apartment that now served as home for god knows how long. You found him sitting on the couch and staring out the window. He wasn't paying attention to what was going on out there, which happened to be very bleak at the moment. 

"Joel?" you called his name again, moving closer and hesitantly putting your hand on his shoulder. He startled easily lately; you didn't want to be the cause of it. He finally snapped back into attention and looked at you, all dark circles and empty eyes. It broke your heart, "I-I have something to tell you."

He remained quiet but looked raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, suddenly at a loss for words.

How were you supposed to tell him that you were pregnant?

The world had come apart at the seams and he'd just lost his daughter. This was absolutely the worst in the world for all of this to happen.

You waved your hands for a moment, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole, "I-I'm-"

Before you could go any further, a loud knocking came at the door. Both of you startled as Joel jumped up and walked over to the door, opening it hurriedly, "what?"

"New horde of infected," a man's gruff voice reached your ears, "FEDRA wants everyone to pack up and go now."

"How far away?"

"Less than a mile."

You did not like the sound of that. A lump welled up in your throat as you looked at Joel helplessly. His face hardened into an unreadable expression before he gave the man, you were pretty sure his name was Nick, a hard nod, “we’ll be ready to go.”

“Good,” he was already moving along to the couple next door, “now go, there’s no time to lose.”

Joel slammed the door shut before letting out a long sigh. He was tired, so, so tired, but he couldn’t just give up. He had to keep going, he had to keep pushing. 

“Joel?”

“Pack a bag, whatever you want grab,” he motioned towards the bedroom, “it doesn’t really matter anymore, but get what you need.”

“What’s going to happen?” your mind was reeling with worry; about you, him, the baby, and whatever the hell was about to go down, “I-I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” he set his large hands on your shoulders, “but right now you can’t worry about that. Just focus on getting your stuff and leaving. Ten minutes, okay? Then we have to get over to the FEDRA station and leave. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed shakily, already padding back to your bedroom to get the few possessions you had felt in the world.

Joel nodded as he went to grab his stuff, knives and guns and other weapons, agreeing to meet at the door shortly.

Time seemed to move in a combination of incredibly fast and wickedly slow and before you knew it, Joel was calling for you to leave. You met him at the door the two of you looked at each other in silent understanding.

The trek over to the FEDRA outpost wasn’t far and the other people in the small community were already in a panic to get out, all scrambling around each other. You grew nervous, wondering if you’d be able to get out in time. 

Joel’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you closer to the vehicles designated for exactly this purpose. 

The rest of it all happened so fast. The first group of infected had come around and were making their way into what you had once believed to be a safe space. Chaos ensued as some people tried to get out as quickly as possible and others hung back to try and fight. 

“Go,” Joel shielded you as he walked you over to the one of the vehicles. You were trying to get him inside with you, holding onto his hand tightly and pulled him. 

“Joel-”

“Go,” he insisted firmly and for a moment, time stood still as he kissed you, “go. Get out to safety, okay?”

“What about you?” you hadn’t realized you’d started crying; you hated that he had to be such a good man, “please, come with me now. Please-”

“I’ll find you,” it was a promise both of you knew he might not be able to keep, “I swear it. I’ll find you.”

“Joel-”

“I love you,” he took a step back as the vehicle started up and a few stragglers tried to get on, “I’ll find you soon.”

“I love you,” you cried, “please. Please.”

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. Everything felt so surreal and left you in a daze; the next thing you knew, he was gone. 

You were leaving to get to the next safe space and he was just gone. 

You’d never felt more numb. 

But you never let go of the hope that one day he’d find you.

Joel Miller was a good man.

A good man that kept his promises.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Luca!" you sighed softly as you tried to find your son. You loved him dearly, but sometimes he just stressed out. He was just a kid though, and you couldn't be mad at him for that. 

He also happened to be extremely friendly and sociable, which made him popular among everyone. You walked down the street to one of his little friend's houses, sure they were just playing.

It was almost too quiet when you got there, and you were sure that they'd gone off somewhere else. You knocked on the door nonetheless and Lisa opened it, smiling when she saw it was you, "hey darlin', I'm afraid they're not here if you're looking for the little bundle of chaos they are."

"I had a feeling," crossing your arms over your chest you rolled your eyes playfully, "it's way too quiet and calm here."

"It's a nice change of pace if I do say so," she winked at you and the two of you exchanged smiles that only a single mother would understand, "do you want to come in for a bit?"

"Rain check?" You asked sheepishly, "I was going to go friend the kiddos….realistically I know they're fine but I'd rather see it with my own eyes."

"Definitely," she gave your shoulder a squeeze, "see you around."

It was a beautiful spring day, warm and breezy with small creatures scurrying about; it always felt like life was back to normal. Or what you had once known as normal…but this had been your reality for almost seven years now. Maybe this was your normal now. 

Nonetheless you decided to remain positive and decided instead to head down to the pond where the kids liked to play. Spring had brought around a bunch of ducklings and you were sure that the kids would be mesmerized by them. But, to be quite honest, so were you. The magic of such simple things was not lost on you. Now, more than ever, these sorts of things were so important. 

“Luca?” you saw a bunch of small figures around and screaming, and you finally relaxed. As you came into view, the boy grinned at you a big smile on his face, his curls roguish from the wind, “hey babe. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m okay,” he confirmed, his brown eyes sparkling as you ruffled his hair affectionately, “are you okay, mama?”

“Of course,” you crouched down so you were eye level with him, “all better now that I know you’re here. Remember when we talked about letting me know when you go out to play?”

“Yes,” he looked worried for a moment before you shook your head softly, “I’m sorry. I got excited about playing and forgot.”

“It’s okay,” you touched his cheek softly, “I’m not mad. Next time can you please remember to tell me?”

“Okay,” he wrapped his small arms around you, hugging you as best as he could. He was a sweetheart and of all the kids you could have ended up with, you were glad he choose you, “can I go back and play now?”

“Definitely,” tender kisses were pressed to his cheeks as you tickled his sides, “go and be good! I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, mama,” and off he was, running back to his friend as you watched him go. 

You slowly stood up before stretching and relishing in the popping of your joints. Having been reassured that he was going to be okay, you decided it was time to go back and start tending to the communal gardens. You never really had a green thumb before, but the last few years had really helped you grow. 

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts and almost didn’t notice the man in the middle of the sidewalk, clearly confused. You’d heard some newcomers might be headed your way, but you hadn’t come across any of them yet. Having new people around was something you’d come to love; it wasn’t common most of the time. 

“Hello there,” you were practically beaming as you bounced over to him. The man turned around at the sound of your voice, “you must be new…”

You stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you met his face, suddenly unsure if this was real life or just a wicked dream. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and figure out if what you were looking at was real. There was no way…absolutely none. 

But he looked just like him, watching you with equally curious eyes. Your heart was beating so fast you were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage. Your mouth ran dry but you managed to get one singular, “Joel?”

After a moment of stunned silence he nodded before whispering your name in return. The tears were already welling up and threatening to run down your cheeks. Before you knew it, the man that once was your partner, lover - everything - took you in his arms and crushed you to his chest. You didn’t mind.

He was all too familiar, bringing back a rush of memories and emotions as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. The two of you held onto each other tightly for some time; you were afraid that if you let him go he would disappear again and you would wake up to find it was all a horrible dream. 

When he pulled back, he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away with his thumb. He drank you in, trying to understand every single thing that had happened since the day you lost each other, “hi.”

“Hi,” you grinned back with a teary smile, “you’re here. Really here.”

“I’m here,” he promised, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

“Joel, I-”

“Mama!” the small voice of your son reached your ears as he ran over to the two of you, “I found a little duckie and I don’t see the mom duck and it’s so small and can I keep him?”

“Whoa, bud, slow down there for a moment,” he tucked himself behind your legs, suddenly feeling shy when he realized Joel was there. You could see Joel’s eyes flick to the young boy as his brow furrowed in confusion. You put a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to introduce himself, “can you say hi?”

“Hi,” he sounded so young as he looked at Joel; their eyes mirroring each other, “I’m Luca.”

“Hi Luca,” he held out his hand to shake the young boy’s much smaller one, his mind racing and reeling with questions. But he was a smart man and could put two and two together,  “I’m Joel.”

“My daddy’s name was Joel,” Luca mused as Joel turned his attention back to you, “that’s what mama said anyway. Can I go back to the ducks now?”

“Yeah babe, go ahead. Don’t touch them though and let the mama duck do her thing. I'm sure she'll be back,” he nodded in response before trekking away again, throwing a little wave at the two of you. You nervously turned your attention back to Joel. 

“A son?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion as you nodded softly, “we have a son?”

“Yes,” it felt like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders as you finally got to tell him what you had wanted all those years ago, “we have a son. He looks just like you.”

“I never…I had no clue,” he ran a hand over his face in surprise, “I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

“I found out that day,” also known as the day. When everything fell apart for a second time and you were separated from each other, “I was trying to tell you, right before Nick had come and knocked at our door. I realized that morning that I was…pregnant. And I never got the chance to tell you…when everything just started happening, it didn’t cross my mind again. And then…I lost you. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“You had to go through all of that alone,” he looked at you in awe as you shrugged lightly, “you had to go through being pregnant alone and then raised our son alone.”

“I had a lot of help along the way,” you admitted softly, “turns out that times like these are good at bringing out the worst and the best of people. I told him about you; from when he was little. I always wanted him to know what a wonderful man his father was. And now…he got to meet you.”

“All this time,” he could cry thinking about it all. You, alone and scared, being pregnant in a world that was collapsing, and then having to raise a son alone. He’d lost Sarah, a loss that hurt still, and he knew always would, and he’d almost lost his son. But the universe, fate, or whatever was out there had given him a second chance. Not only to find you, but to be you and the son you shared, “baby.”

“It’s okay,” this time the tears running down your cheeks were happy, “it’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. And now you’ll get the opportunity to know Luca, and it’s…all I ever wanted.”

“We have a son,” he repeated as though he was in a daze, a happy blissful daze.

“You don’t have to…if you don’t want to spend time with him or anything I-I understand,” it would kill you, but you’d understand, “I don’t want you to feel obligated just because. O-or if there’s someone else.”

“No,” he shook his head fervently, “there’s never been anyway else. How could there ever be? It was always you for me; you’re still it.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a small laugh, relieved to hear his answer, “it’s always been you for me too.”

“I was just planning on passing through,” he touched your face, thumb gently brushing over your cheek, “but if it’s okay with you, I could stay a while.”

“How about forever?” you asked softly, “i-if you want to. I-I mean we can figure it out, but-”

“Forever sounds perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

[lotusbxtch]

SoCal to NorCal - Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Masterlist Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x afab!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together?

- or -

you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 1: Malibu

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Chapter Summary: You & Frankie visit your friend Santi at his Malibu mansion to kick off your roadtrip north, and you let desires guide the night.

Word Count: 6.9k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, threesome, multiple partners, MMF dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), DVP, multiple creampies, explicit talk about cum (is a cum kink a thing? a tag I should use? Pls comment with your thoughts lol), spitting, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Santi being a menace is his own warning, Frankie the PEK, Frankie has a big dick and so does Santi, Reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control. a/n: This is my very first series fic! I plan to have 3 chapters including this one. This one was meant to be a fun spicy little intro into the fic, but of course Santi being an absolute menace meant that this is absolute smutty filth and I'm sorry (not sorry). MASSIVE thank you to my sweet @for-a-longlongtime, who not only gave me the iconic Santiago line "guava goes better with pussy and mezcal," but beta read for me, bounced ideas around, and encouraged me when I wasn't sure that I could do this. Without her help, this fic wouldn't be in existence! Dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you! (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

“I think that should be everything,” you murmur, closing the back of the forest green Jeep. You card a hand through your hair while going over a mental pack list for the third time this afternoon. Behind you, you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder and warm, strong hands envelop your waist.

“You ready to ride then, sweetness?” asks your boyfriend, Frankie. You smile and lean back into his embrace. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to this trip,” you say, turning to plant a kiss to his aquiline nose, and then another to his plush lips. You both hop into the car; Frankie navigates towards the coast, while small butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach as you think about how the two of you got here.

You and Frankie Morales met six months ago at the Santa Monica airport. In a bid to encourage team bonding, upper management at your job booked a helicopter tour of the Los Angeles skyline. Frankie was the pilot for your chopper. He charmed your group with his charismatic yet humble demeanor and fun factoids about LA, especially you – your coworkers insisted that he kept staring at you when you weren’t looking. But Frankie ultimately beat you to the punch and asked you out for drinks the following night. You accepted, and the rest is history. The attraction was palpable from the get-go, and Frankie’s go-with-the-flow attitude complimented your fiery personality to a T. You adored how detail-oriented he was in all aspects of his life – memorizing your favorite teas, asking about how your projects were going, knowing exactly how to make you see stars in bed with his fingers, his cock, and especially his tongue. You couldn’t deny that Frankie was the perfect addition to your life, and you to his.

Through those first few weeks, you both divulged the more challenging bits of your lives. Frankie told you about his daughter, Isabella, and how his struggle with cocaine almost ruined his life. His relationship with his ex-wife was strained because of it, but they co-parented well - it was their main goal to ensure that Isabella was never put in the middle of their struggles, that she always felt supported and loved by both of her parents. Frankie had lost his pilot’s license after he failed a random drug test, and he took that as a sign to do the work to fix what was broken. He was now two years sober, and back to flying.

You, in turn, revealed to Frankie that he wasn’t the only man in your life. For the last decade, you’ve been with Joel Miller, your husband of seven years. Joel was the steady compass of your soul, the man whose roots intertwined deeply with those of your heart. You’d loved Joel almost your entire life, having grown up in the same neighborhood, although your crush on him was secretive during your childhood. He was your older brother’s best friend from college, a transplant from Texas whose parents moved to the Bay Area when he was a teenager. You ran into him after getting your master’s degree and moving back to the suburbs of San Francisco, and something sparked between the two of you. Since then, you’d been inseparable. When your work requested that you spend a year going between NorCal and SoCal to establish the new Los Angeles area office, you knew it would be a challenge for your relationship. As it turns out, it was only really a challenge for one reason — your sex drive was incredibly high, and sometimes you were apart from Joel for weeks at a time. Phone and video sex worked as well as it could, but it couldn’t beat the real thing. One night, after a particularly frustrating video sex session — all of your toys ran out of juice and you’d left your charger at home, among other things — Joel surprised you by suggesting that you didn’t need to stay monogamous. 

“Are you sure, Joel?” you asked incredulously. “You’ve never been one to particularly like sharing.”

Joel huffed a laugh. “Yes, darlin’,” he replied. “Lord knows the new office ended up bein’ more work than either of us thought it’d be. I know how much ‘gettin’ yours’ can be de-stressin’ for ya, and I don’t wanna be the reason you can’t seek it. It’s not like you’d be askin’ someone to move in with us. If it helps you, it makes me happy. And it sure would give my phone battery and hands some relief.” He chuckled as you scoffed in mock indignation. “You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t want to about whoever you get involved with. As long as you’re stayin’ safe and they’re treatin’ you as well as I do, then I’m okay with it.”

You sighed in consideration. “Let me think about it some more,” you said, picking at your rental’s bedspread. “It’s not something I’m going to take lightly.”

And then two weeks later, you met Frankie. Frankie was surprisingly relaxed when you told him about Joel, albeit surprised. He’d hesitated to continue things until you got on the phone with Joel and had him tell Frankie himself. After all, you’d checked with Joel within a few days of meeting Frankie just to make sure Joel was still okay with you being with another man.

You made sure to tell Joel when you’d be seeing Frankie, and Frankie didn’t contact you when you were back home with Joel. It wasn’t that either man wanted to pretend the other didn’t exist; rather, they each wanted to respect the other man’s time with you. Frankie wasn’t seeking marriage or starting a family; he wanted to continue using his time and energy on Isabella and getting his career back on track. And Joel was confident in and comfortable with your  marriage in a way that didn’t allow for unseemly jealousy to crop up. 

Gradually you told each of them bits about the other one, until one day Joel suggested that the two of them meet. You were game, but wanted to run it by Frankie first.

“He wants to meet me?” Frankie asked, wringing his hands a bit and looking mildly surprised. The two of you had just finished dinner at one of your favorite taco trucks in LA, and you licked the tips of your fingers as you finished your last al pastor taco, the warm, savory spices dancing on your tongue. Frankie took a sip from his Mexican Coke, his plush lips wrapping around the cool aqua glass of the bottle.

You nod your head in affirmation. “Just for a couple of days. We could make a vacation out of it. Joel suggested maybe we road trip up the coast.”

Frankie looked pensive. You don’t blame him, especially when the two men had made a concerted effort to keep their relationships with you separate. “You’re sure you want to do this?” Frankie asked, searching your eyes for any hesitation. You studied those dark chocolate irises, so similar to Joel’s. 

“Yes, Francisco,” you confirmed, reaching out across the plastic picnic table to touch his hand. The sounds of the city wrapped around you as the two of you gazed at each other. “Joel has my heart, but so do you. And I want both parts of my heart, my favorites, to be with me at the same time for once.”

“Ok, mi amor, let’s go then,” Frankie said resolutely, bringing up your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

Your thoughts bring you back to the present, with Frankie’s one-hand grip on the steering wheel and the warm coastal sun beaming through the windshield. The windows are down, allowing the salty sea air to filter through the Jeep. He flips on his turn signal and begins driving through a particularly posh part of Malibu. Giant mansions dwarf the street, pristine lawns and modern, open-glass architecture rolling by as you continue on. You let out a low whistle.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell does Santi do again to afford this?” you ask Frankie, eyes flicking to and from each house you pass by.

“Nothing,” Frankie chuckles. “When we got the money from that final mission that Santi and I went on, he invested the entirety of his share into the stock market. Well, almost everything.” He snorts at the champagne Range Rover in Santi’s driveway as the two of you pull up. Frankie, on the other hand, put the majority of his earnings into a trust fund for Isabella. The rest he used to set himself up comfortably but modestly. “Santi still does some consultant work for private security firms, but he just keeps reinvesting the money and using it to buy property and fund charity work,” Frankie explains.

“Can’t say I blame him, it’s a pretty solid strategy,” you respond, taking in the splendor of Santi’s Malibu abode as Frankie parks his Jeep. The three-story home is minimalist and modern on the exterior, with a combination of cool beige stone and warm wood paneling. No other houses are on either side of the building, so the property is ulta-private, and even has its own beach. As the two of you unpack your bags from the car, you hear a wolf whistle shriek from somewhere around the corner. Jumping slightly, you turn and then smile as Santiago Garcia strolls barefoot out of the house, his pale linen slacks and caramel vintage ribbed polo shirt fluttering lightly against his muscular frame in the sea breeze. 

“Hey pendejo, you finally made it!” Santi yells to Frankie, then turns to you with a “hi, hermosa,” and a kiss to your cheek. You wrap your arms around Santi’s torso, inhaling his sandalwood and cinnamon scent and giggling a hello. Frankie walks up, bags in hand, and tries to ruffle Santi’s perfectly coiffed curls. Santi dodges him and then goes in for a bear hug; Frankie smiles broadly as they rock side to side before clapping each other on the back.

“Good to see you, hermano, and thanks for letting us stay with you,” Frankie says warmly as he picks up your luggage and the three of you head towards the house.

“Not a problem, I’m in town for a consulting gig and figured it’d been awhile since we’d gotten together,” Santi responds ahead of you. You and Frankie follow him into the open-concept common area, admiring the sleek countertops, stainless steel fixtures, and plush yet subdued furniture. Light neutrals rule the color palette, with plenty of floor-to-ceiling windows to allow natural light in. You run your hand over the back of a velvet lounger, indulging in the texture against your fingertips. Frankie goes to the bedroom to drop off your luggage, while Santi starts pulling things out in the kitchen for dinner prep. Continuing towards the back of the house, you push open the sliding glass doors, letting fresh air in while you admire the view from the balcony. Below, the azure waves caress the sand gently, and the sound of the ocean encourages you to release all the stress from the last workweek. 

The boys get going on dinner as you slip on a silky emerald green dress - opting to go braless and barefoot - and dab on some rosy lip stain. The dress drapes lushly over your body, making it both comfortable and beautiful. After spritzing on some of your favorite perfume and putting on thin gold hoop earrings, you emerge from the guest bedroom you and Frankie are sharing for the weekend. Santi looks up and hums in approval.

“Damn, bebita, you look delicious,” he purrs as he finishes seasoning the steaks. “Do you always dress up for dinner with this chump or did you get pretty just for me? It’s okay, you can tell the truth.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and chuckle as you squeeze his bicep in passing. “Santi, don’t flatter yourself,” you retort, “I did it for myself. I don’t need to dress up for him to want to devour me.” You cross the kitchen to Frankie, who’s working on the caprese salad. Frankie huffs a laugh and puts down the kitchen knife, wiping his hands on a towel before to circling his hands around your waist. You lean into him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“That’s right,” he shoots back to Santi without looking over, “she doesn’t need extra dressing up; she’s stunning enough as she is.” He kisses your forehead softly as you gaze up at him lovingly.

“You’re right.” Santi lets his gaze scan over you approvingly. “She probably looks even better with nothing on.”

“Santiago!” you laugh. “You’re such an insufferable flirt.” You walk back over to the opposite side of the kitchen island from him, fixing him with a smoldering smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know, hmm?” Santi has always been relentlessly flirtatious with every attractive woman he meets, including you. Frankie’s never bothered by his antics, but you see his eyes flick towards the two of you, anticipating his response.

“Don’t tease me with promises you won’t keep, sweetheart,” Santi warns you, voice like rich caramel, sweet and smooth. You hold each other’s gazes for a moment before you break away, laughing softly and successfully ruffling his hair like Frankie wanted to earlier. That distracts Santi from the moment, as he huffs and runs his fingers through his curls to fix them.

A few hours later, the three of you are relaxing on the balcony by the fire pit after dinner, drinking mezcal margaritas and catching up on life. You sit with your legs across the cream  patio sofa, your back against Frankie’s side like you often do with him. His arm is draped possessively across your torso while his thumb rubs absentmindedly back and forth across your shoulder. Santi goes inside to fetch the mezcal bottle from the kitchen, having switched to just the liquor, and you stand from the couch to observe the beach at the balcony’s railing. The darkness of night has settled over the landscape, lending deep navies and turquoise hues to the water, and everything feels more hushed. 

As you inhale the coastal breeze, you feel Frankie’s warm body press into you from behind, and then his soft lips pressing a trail of kisses over your shoulder and neck. You hum happily, smelling his rosemary cedar soap on his skin, and press yourself further into him, lightly grinding against his hips. Frankie lets out a quiet groan and presses right back into you, letting you feel his hardening length against your ass. He begins to cup your breasts through the silken fabric of your dress, easily pebbling your nipples with no bra between his fingers and your tits. The heat of arousal starts to pool low in your belly as Frankie slides his hands down to your hips, grinding on you until he’s fully hard beneath his pants. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, and turn to the side to catch his lips, biting on his lower one and eliciting a louder groan from him. 

“Sweetness, I need you so badly,” Frankie whispers into your ear. When you quietly moan in response, you can feel Frankie’s hands slip down the silk over your ass and hear him shuffle behind you. Spinning around and opening your eyes, you see him on his knees, hat next to him on the floor, starting to ruck up your dress. 

“Frankie,” you hiss, grabbing his hands, desperate for more but concerned. “What if Santi sees?” 

“What if I want to watch?” you hear suddenly over Frankie’s shoulder, and you gasp when you look behind him and realize Santi is leaning against the open balcony door, sipping mezcal straight from the bottle. A fire ripples from the base of your spine upwards, and your gaze drops to Frankie, whose eyes have gone nearly black with desire but remain on you. Your lips pop open slightly, and you freeze.

“Well, querida, answer the man,” Frankie rasps. “Either you let him watch or make him go back inside, but either way, I’m eating this sweet pussy.” His hands slowly drag up your legs until he’s cupping your ass, squeezing the soft flesh, which rips a moan from your throat. As Frankie’s lips trail up and down your legs, you look back up at Santi, trying to read his expression. Gone is the molten chocolate of his irises; instead, you see glimmering adamant, dark and deep like the desire painted over every line of his face. But that heated gaze is still respectful – you know Santi would never cross your boundaries. If you truly didn’t want him to watch, he’d go inside the house, no questions asked. 

It’s for that exact reason that your desire thrums through you like a bass line, and you bite your lip. “Frankie, I need your mouth on me right now. I think Santi needs to see how hard you make me come.”

Frankie responds with a groan, while Santi lets out a deep purring sound. He moves to the couch, sitting with his legs spread, and takes another swig of mezcal as he takes in the sight before him. Frankie immediately yanks your soft lace panties down your thighs, and growls at the gossamer-thin string of arousal that connects your weeping center with your underwear.

“Fuuuuck, querida, you’re fucking soaked,” Frankie moans, inhaling the intoxicating scent near your glossy slit. You step out of your panties, and he grabs them, tossing them to Santi. The man on the couch catches them with one hand, bringing them immediately to his nose and sniffing deeply. 

“Goddamn,” Santi grits out, “she smells so fucking good, hermano.” He brings the gusset of the lace garment to his mouth, gingerly licking the slick off, groaning at the taste. You gasp at the sight, a wave of wetness trickling down your channel. “Tastes amazing too,” he adds, leaning back into the couch cushions and stuffing your panties into his pocket.

Frankie pushes your dress up to your waist and moves your left thigh to rest on his shoulder, spreading you open. He splays your lips open with his thumbs, staring at your pussy glistening in the fire’s light, on display for both him and Santi. He licks a steady strip from the bottom to the top, swirling around your clit at the end. You moan loudly, leaning back against the railing for support.

“Oh bebita, listen to those sweet sounds you’re making for Frankie,” Santi croons from the couch. “He must be making that pussy feel so good.”

“Yes, Santi,” you gasp, swallowing thickly as your eyes close in pleasure. “He’s so fucking good with his tongue.” You hear Santi rumble deep in his chest in response.

Frankie begins licking, sucking, and tapping on your clit exactly like he knows you like it, gripping your cheeks with both hands and massaging them. You writhe against his face, rocketing faster towards your impending orgasm. When you look up, you see Santi palming his cock through his pants, the bulge straining against the linen. Your cunt clenches at the image before you. Frankie can tell you’re close, so he slips two of his fingers into his mouth momentarily to slick them up and then plunges them into your warm cunt. You throw your head back, nearly screaming in ecstasy. Your grip tightens on the railing.

“I know you’re close, querida,” Frankie growls. “Let Santi see how pretty you look when you come.” Frankie then hooks his fingers just right inside of you and hits that soft spot that sends you into orbit, squealing. You feel everything tighten and then release, your orgasm rippling through your core and into your extremities. Frankie and Santi both moan at the sights and sounds of you reaching your peak, Frankie lapping up every drop of release from you.

“Good fucking girl, mamacita,” Santi says, getting up from the couch and stalking towards the both of you. Frankie gets off of his knees, easing your leg off his shoulder while wiping a hand across his drenched mouth. He knows exactly what Santi wants, so he moves back a couple of steps. You almost stumble, legs like jelly, and Santi catches your waist.

He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes, and his assessing gaze breaks through the post-orgasm haze you’re in. “I really want to taste that perfect cunt, baby,” Santi whispers. “Can I do that for you?” You look at him, hesitating for a moment only because this is a line you’ve not crossed with Santi before. You nod clearly at him. Santi shakes his head. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Santi,” you breathe. “Please put your mouth on me.” Santi groans in anticipation and starts walking backwards, pulling you with him. When you look at him in slight confusion, a sheepish smile passes briefly over his lips.

“Bad knees,” he reminds you, and you laugh. “Kneeling on concrete would kill me.” He tilts his chin to Frankie. “Fish, open the door to the bedroom. I’m gonna lay her down. And bring the bottle.” Frankie obliges, sliding open the other glass door to the expansive bedroom and grabbing the mezcal bottle.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You sigh a yes, and Santi kisses you softly at first, then deeper. He tastes like cinnamon, tropical fruits, and smoky liquor. Moaning quietly, you start to lose yourself in his kiss as he moves the both of you backwards into the bedroom. 

The California king size bed is draped in soft taupes and creams, the bedding a gauzy cotton that feels incredible on your skin as Santi gently lays you on it. He pulls your dress up your body, and you arch your back to help him remove it over your head. As your bare body is exposed to him, glowing in the low light, he sucks in a breath. Frankie places the mezcal bottle on the bedside table, then strips out of everything except his black boxer briefs, his length fully hard against his left thigh, and sits down on a sleek chaise lounger in the corner, watching you and Santi.

Santi strips off his shirt and then climbs onto the bed over you, slowly sliding his hands over your soft skin as he goes. You shift on the bed at his touch, back arching a bit and thighs rubbing together. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he reaches your head, forearms bracketing either side of your face. His body is so close to yours yet not touching.

Moaning, you tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls and pull briefly. Santi bites your lower lip in response with a small growl. Sitting up, he grabs the mezcal off the bedside table.

“Open,” he commands, taking a swig from the glass bottle. You obey, and Santi leans over your open mouth and fucking spits the mezcal into it. You swallow, moaning at the taste, the alcohol and him. He kisses you roughly, licking into your mouth, and you whimper, your legs dropping open of their own accord.

Santi notices and chuckles darkly. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he purrs. “Dirty girl.” He kisses and nips along your ear and neck, across your collarbone, and down your chest. Reaching your nipples, he swirls his tongue around and then gently nips each of them. You feel slick pooling at your entrance, starting to drip down your inner thighs. Santi traces his tongue down your belly and to the curls above your pussy, inhaling deeply. He pushes your thighs open further and groans at the sight.

“Goddamn, you’re drenched,” he grits out, shuffling down to put his face at your center. You glance over at Frankie in the corner, and notice he has his cock out, slowly stroking the length. You whimper at the sight and Frankie licks his lips. You feel a sudden pinch at your inner thigh and whip your head back to the man between your legs.

“Eyes on me, hermosa,” Santi orders. “I want you to look right at me when I eat this pretty pussy.” And with that, he dives in.

Santi is a messier lover than Frankie, who usually eats you out with absolute precision, priding himself with knowing exactly how to make you come as fast as possible, and repeat the process until you’re crying out from overstimulation. Santi, however, is licking at you like he wants to drown himself in your cunt. His tongue is everywhere, licking broad stripes across your slit, sucking on your lips and clit, biting at your thighs, shoving his tongue deep into your channel. 

“So fucking sweet,” Santi pants out in a daze, separating his mouth from your sopping cunt for just a moment, and then goes back in for more. You mewl and grip the bed sheets as he continues to ravage you.

Your moans of pleasure stir something in Frankie, who gets up from his seat and walks over to the bed, his need to touch you nearly insatiable.

“Frankie,” you whine as you see him, your eyes hazy with lust, reaching out to him. 

“I’m right here, querida,” he reassures you, then gets onto the bed, placing himself behind you. You scooch up the bed so that you’re sitting in between his spread legs, your back to his bare chest. You can feel his hard length against you, silken and hot, his precum smearing slick against your skin. Frankie kisses your forehead, then leans forward and grabs your legs behind the knees, pulling back and spreading you impossibly wider for Santi. The man between your thighs groans, slipping two fingers into you, making your back arch even more.

“Does our little slut like to be spread out? Do you like Frankie holding your legs open for me, bebita?” Santi growls, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You cry out at his words, throwing your head back against Frankie’s shoulder. One of your hands grabs Frankie’s thigh, and the other one grips Santi’s hair once again.

“Yes,” you respond, pushing his head back towards your dripping slit. “Lick my pussy like you mean it, Santi.” He groans deep in his chest and dives back in, and you feel Frankie bite the junction between your neck and shoulder in arousal. Santi continues pumping his fingers into you as he sucks your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue over it in tiny circles. You feel your orgasm begin to rise in your lower belly, intensifying with each thrust and lick. Santi feels your slick walls bear down on his fingers.

“That’s it, honey, I know you want to come for me,” Santi says.

“Give it to us,” Frankie whispers in your ear. “Come for me and Santi.”

Frankie’s command is all it takes to snap the tether in your core, shattering you into pieces as the pleasure courses hot through your body. You scream their names as your pussy gushes wave after wave of slick, running down your thighs and Santi’s fingers, into his waiting mouth, licking and slurping obscenely, his fingers continuing to press into your g-spot to prolong your high.

“God, I need to be inside you right fucking now,” Santi grits out, pussydrunk. He stands up and hurriedly shoves his pants and boxers down his legs, his thick cock springing free and bobbing slightly. You feel your mouth water; his dick is just as gorgeous as Frankie’s. 

Santi meets your eyes once again. “Do you want me to fuck you while Frankie holds you open, sweetheart?” Santi asks you. You pause, your pleasure-addled mind narrowing in on one idea – having them both.

“I want you both,” you moan. Santi’s eyes widen a bit and then dart to Frankie. They share a smirk and then Frankie turns to you in his lap.

“Querida, how do you want us?” Frankie inquires. “One at a time or at the same time?”

“At the same time,” you whimper. “I want you both in my pussy.”

Santi and Frankie groan in unison. Santi smiles wickedly, looking at Frankie. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, eh?”

“Just like we used to,” Frankie chuckles darkly, and your fuzzy mind tucks away their exchange for later. “We have to get her ready, then.” He slowly releases your knees and turns to you, kissing the side of your face and lightly nibbling your ear. He grabs your chin gently with his fingers, turning your head sideways to meet his eyes. “We’re going to work you open first, okay, baby?” he intones softly. You nod your head yes. Santi and Frankie’s eyes meet, and Santi opens the bedside table drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube and tossing it to Frankie. 

He catches it, reading the label. “Guava?” Frankie asks quizzically. “What happened to the mango-pineapple one?”

Santi shrugs. “I still have it,” he explains, “but guava goes better with pussy and mezcal.” You huff a laugh and Frankie smiles, kissing your forehead again and sweeping your hair out of your face.

“Guess we have an edible lube connoisseur here,” jokes Frankie, opening the cap and pouring some of the slick liquid onto his thick digits. 

The sweet, juicy fruit scent wafts through the air, and Santi grabs the bottle from him, doing the same while shaking his head incredulously.“It’s not my fault that you have no sense of refinement,” he retorts. Frankie just rolls his eyes and turns back to you.

“Are you ready, sweetness?” Frankie murmurs. You nod your head and breathe out a “yes, baby”. Frankie reaches in front of himself and slips his two lubed fingers into you, and you whimper softly. Santi follows suit, slipping two of his fingers into you next, kneeling between your legs. You feel stretched full but so turned on. They allow you a few moments to adjust, and when you nod your head, they begin swirling their fingers in opposite directions. A moan rips from your throat and you grab at the bedsheets. They continue swirling and pressing their fingers in and out, and the sight of your pussy filled with their fingers gets the both of them rock hard.

The cloud of euphoria in your head is all-consuming as they continue, your arousal reaching an almost painful peak. Suddenly you grab their wrists and both men stop immediately, concern crossing their faces. “Are you okay, bebita?” Frankie asks, his brows furrowing. 

You nod your head rapidly, and then bleat out, “I need you both inside me right now.” Santi and Frankie grin at your fucked out expression, looking at each other conspiratorially.

“Well, you heard the lady, Pope,” Frankie says. “Let’s give her what she wants.” He shifts you forward as he moves to the side, pulling his underwear all the way off. He lays on his back on the bed, his hard cock against his stomach dripping pre-cum. “I want you to ride me, hermosa, and then Santi is going to enter you from behind as you lean forward,” Frankie explains.

You nod your head in understanding and straddle his thighs, facing him. Frankie hands you the lube bottle. You dribble a stream onto his waiting thickness, and he hisses as the cool liquid hits his hot velvet skin. Grabbing his slick length, you shuffle forward and guide him into your channel, whining when he bottoms out easily. Frankie reaches up and grips your hips, guiding you to ride him.

After a minute, he looks over your shoulder at Santi, who is slowly stroking his dick. “I think she’s ready, Fish,” Santi says, and Frankie nods once. Santi gets on the bed, coming to his knees behind you and grabbing your hips. Frankie slides his hands to your back, gently pulling you towards him until you’re leaning forward, laying chest to chest, your pussy on full display for Santi, stuffed with Frankie’s cock. You hear Santi groan behind you at the sight.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, bebita,” Santi admits as he slicks up his hardness with the lube. “Been thinking about being inside this pussy for months.”

“Well, now’s your chance,” you tease, looking back at him. “Better hurry before the offer expires.” Santi smirks at you as he places his hands on your hips.

The moment you feel the head of Santi’s cock slide into your pussy, you gasp as the sting of the stretch hits you. You hear Santi behind you grit out a quiet “fuck”. Slowly he continues sinking into your hot, wet heat. Reaching forward, he circles your throbbing clit softly, making you whine but relax, allowing him to slip deeper into you, inch by inch. Your pussy twitches and both Santi and Frankie choke on moans. 

When he fills you as far as you can take both of them, the three of you hold still. As the seconds pass, the sting gives way as you adjust to being this full. The result is rolling waves of lightning sparking through your veins with each minute movement inside of you. You let out a high-pitched whine as a knot of white-hot pleasure tightens in your core.

“Mierda, bebita,” Frankie moaned, “are you gonna come just from both of us being in you?”

“God, she feels so fucking good,” Santi murmurs, almost to himself. Both of them are gripping you tightly as you continue to whimper and whine, your high quickly building. Your breathing intensifies, and you start to shake. 

It’s so much, being so full of them physically, and the thought of them both in you - two of the most attractive, sexy men you know - is nearly making you lose your mind. But you don’t want to come before your boys have even gotten to move. It almost feels like a weakness, being this fucked out for them.

“It’s ok, sweetness, let go,” says Frankie softly, realizing you’re holding off for them. He presses a kiss to your neck and it’s your undoing. 

The brush of his lips against that sensitive spot right under your ear pushes you off the edge and you wail, your pleasure cresting as you jerk under their firm grips. They moan loudly, your pleasure stoking theirs. The three of you catch your breaths as you come down from your high.

Frankie looks up at you, eyes pitch black, swimming with devotion for you. Santi strokes your hips gently, his strong hands shaking slightly.

“How are you feeling?” Frankie asks you sweetly, rubbing his hands across your back, his thighs clenching from holding back. 

You take a shaky breath. “So fucking full,” you respond, and then giggle softly at your obvious observation. The boys laugh too, and then moan slightly as your bodies shift. Santi squeezes your hips and asks, “Are you ready for us to move, hermosa?” Your head is swimming in endorphins as you whimper out, “Yes, Santi. I need both of you to fuck me now.”

With that, the two men lock eyes and nod, beginning an apparently practiced dance of their cocks. As Frankie slides himself out, Santi pushes in, and then they reverse roles. You cry out in ecstasy. It’s so much more than you could have ever imagined.

Frankie and Santi start off with slow, shallow thrusts in and out, gradually stretching you around their lengths. When Frankie hits a particularly sweet spot, you moan fervently and more slick coats them, making them both moan back in response. The friction between their cocks and your walls is delicious.

“Fuck, bebita, you look incredible taking the both of us,” Santi says, gripping your hips harder, a sheen of sweat glimmering across his body. 

Frankie hums in agreement. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he praises. You preen at their words, arching your back to change the angle. Santi whimpers and kisses along your spine, worshiping your body. The room is thick with the smell of sex, guava, and mezcal, the squelching sounds of your pussy weaving between all three of your moans and cries of pleasure.

The boys begin to speed up the wetter you get, starting to fuck into you with vigor. You feel like your whole body is vibrating. Leaning down to kiss Frankie changes the angle once again, and Santi lets out yet another whimper as you slide your tongue along Frankie’s.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, that’s perfect,” he gasps, getting even harder inside of you. He starts to rub your clit in tight circles, making you yelp. “I want you to come one more time for us before we fill you up,” he continues. “Gonna make your pussy milk our cocks. C’mon, honey, you’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper. “I - it’s so much…”

Frankie lets out a growl. “Oh, querida, I know you can come for us one more time,” he says. “Just think about how full of cock you are right now.”

He’s right. The psychological thrill of having both men inside of you is the push you need. You start to shake again, everything tensing up. Both men moan as your channel pulls tight.

Santi leans down to your ear, still thumbing your clit. “Fucking come for us. That’s an order.”

You scream so loudly when your fourth orgasm hits you, that you’re grateful that Santi has no neighbors - because they definitely would have called the cops by now. Tears leak down your face from the intensity, and Santi whimpers loudly as he thrusts in and comes deep in you, his hot seed coating your walls. The tightness of your pussy and Santi shoving deep end up pushing Frankie’s cock out, but he couldn’t care less. 

When Santi’s strokes slow and then stop, indicating he’s finished, Frankie pushes him off of you, and roughly flips you over onto your back. He shoves your legs apart, and pushes his dick harshly into you. Boneless, you lay there, moaning and taking it, unable to say anything coherent except for Frankie’s name. Your boyfriend presses your legs even further towards your shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he fucks into you hard and fast, Santi’s cum forced out of you with every snap of Frankie’s hips.

“God, you look like such a goddess right now,” Frankie babbles, nearly snarling, “so full of cum. You like that? You want me to fill you up good? You’re gonna be leaking our cum for days, querida.”

“Yes, Frankie, yes,” you moan, “please fill me up. I love your cum in me. I wanna be so full of both of you.”

With a shout, Frankie bares his teeth and comes, getting as deep as possible and filling up your cunt just like he promised. You feel his cum thick and hot in you, triggering another moan. 

Frankie drops your knees back down to the bed, nearly collapsing down against your chest while the two of you pant heavily, trying to catch your breaths. Looking over, you spot Santi sitting up at the corner of the bed, looking disheveled but utterly sated, his now-soft cock still shiny with lube and your combined releases. 

You reach your hand out to him, and he crawls towards you, slotting himself next to one side, while Frankie hisses as he pulls out of you and lays next to you on your other side. He smothers your neck and face with kisses, and you giggle, feeling Santi pepper kisses across the top of your head and stroking the underside of your breast affectionately with his thumb.

You let out a contented sigh. “Wow, that was…”

Frankie hums out an “incredible” at the exact same time Santi rumbles a “so fucking good” to complete your statement, which makes the three of you laugh. Giggles subsiding, something they said in the heat of the moment suddenly pops into your mind.

“Wait a second,” you say as you sit up. Both men lazily look up at you, faces blissed out, waiting for your question. “Frankie, you said, ‘just like old times’... How many times have you double teamed with Santi?”

The two of them look at each other with nearly identical smirks. Santi pipes up first. “Well, back in our Army grunt days,” he explains, “when we’d go on leave together, we kind of had this habit of teaming up to pick up women.” Your jaw drops slightly, and Santi looks amused at your shock.

“It was a fairly effective strategy,” Frankie continues. “Trying to land a girl alone was a crapshoot. But with the both of us offering her a night to remember?” Frankie huffs. “It seemed like fantasy fulfillment for almost every woman we fucked together.”

Your eyes rake over the two of them, gloriously naked and handsome as ever, in bed with you. Yeah, you can see the appeal. 

“Okay, but who came up with the idea?” You ask, then immediately put up a hand into the air. “WAIT, no, I know exactly who… Santi, you slut!”

Frankie lets out a loud bark of a laugh as Santi rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, annoyed. 

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t benefit from it, idiota!” Santi grumbles. Frankie reaches over, finally successfully ruffling Santi’s hair. Santi flinches and bats Frankie’s hand away, making you shake with laughter as you lounge in the post-coital haze with your boyfriend and his best friend. You don’t blame those women they slept with one bit. This was a night you will surely remember.

No pressure tags: @mermaidgirl30 @legendary-pink-dot @nerdieforpedro @mountainsandmayhem @arcanefox207 @campingwiththecharmings @exquisit3corpse @gutsby @honeyedmiller @lavendertales @lu62 @luxurychristmaspudding @ozarkthedog @qveerthe0ry @swiftispunk @sheepdogchick3 @thatshortgirlwithglasses @wannab-urs @musings-of-a-rose

[finnsbubblegum]

my dearest i'm going through withdrawals from your writing and frankly i just miss you 🥺🥺

i had a request if you were taking them?

i am currently in an mentally abusive relationship and things aren't really going to hot on my end

i was wondering if you could do one where joel comes in an rescues reader from said relationship? pure fluff and heartwarming stuff i could really use it rn 🖤

ps sorry it got so dark lol 🖤

A/N: Hi anon! I’m so sorry for the late reply. I’m sorry that happened to you, hope you’re doing okay. I tried my best writing this fic hope it helps you feel better. Yes, I read your requests! I just haven't had the time and idea what to write so i am so so sorry. I will write your requests, don't worry! but please be patient😭 I'm writing this first because it seems urgent😭 Btw if you need someone to talk to, you can always send me private messages! 

Worth Saving (Joel Miller X Reader)

Warnings: abusive boyfriend, guns, lmk if i missed any

(Reader’s Pov)

“Ty, can we rest here for a few days? I think it’s a pretty decent place. There is a lot of canned food here and there’s a bed here.” You pointed at the dusty bed.

You and your boyfriend found an abandoned house trying to stock some supplies. You had been doing these for years and kept moving anywhere as long as you didn’t come across people. Humans were more dangerous these days than clickers. 

“Are you serious?” Your boyfriend, Tyler, furrowed his eyebrows and raised his voice.

“Just for a few days.” You stepped back.

“How are you so stupid?” Your boyfriend stepped closer to you.

You knew he was angry. He always had. He never listened to you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just. I saw a bed and I just wanted to sleep on a bed. You know after all these years.” Your voice started to crack.

“After all these years?” He scoffed.

“I have kept you safe and protected you. And it’s still not enough?” Tyler grabbed both of your shoulders with force.

“That’s not what I meant.” You tried to hold your tears.

“Don’t you dare cry, woman!” He tightened his grip on your shoulder.

“Ty, you’re hurting me.” You sobbed.

“Let me tell you something. You’re such a burden. I should have left you there eaten by those clickers. Or maybe.. I should kill you now. ” Your abusive boyfriend said those words right in front of your face. 

Then he took his gun and pointed it right at your forehead. He loaded the gun and was ready to pull the trigger. You closed your eyes, shaking and shed a tear. 

(Joel’s Pov)

“Shh..someone’s here.” Joel whispered to Tommy and pointed at the traces someone left on the first floor.

Tommy nodded and walked slowly behind Joel. Joel and Tommy looked at each other as they heard your fight with your boyfriend. 

*creak*

“Tommy!” Joel whispered scolding Tommy who was making sounds from the old stairs.

Tommy raised his hands and mouthed “sorry”. 

(Reader’s Pov)

“Let me tell you something. You’re such a burden. I should have left you there eaten by those clickers. Or maybe.. I should kill you now. ” Your abusive boyfriend said those words right in front of your face. 

Then he took his gun and pointed it right at your forehead. He loaded the gun and was ready to pull the trigger. 

“No! Please don’t kill me! Please!” You closed your eyes, shaking and crying.

(Joel’s Pov)

Joel was ready to shoot whoever inside the room but Tommy reminded him not to kill innocent people. Joel rolled his eyes and stayed behind Tommy as Tommy instructed. Then he remembered Bill’s letter that was left for him.

“...I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way...”

He remembered his job was to save someone who was worth saving. And it could be anyone and Ellie was one of them. 

“1,2,.” Tommy mouthed to Joel.

“3!” Tommy kicked the door open and found you with a gun pointing at your head.

Joel and Tommy’s guns were all pointed towards you and your boyfriend.

“Put your guns down!” Tyler swiftly pointed his gun to Tommy.

“Please! We’re innocent.” You raised your hands.

“Tommy!” Joel breathed heavily, he was ready to pull the trigger.

Tommy looked at Joel and shook his head. Tommy didn’t want Joel to kill innocent people anymore. He wanted him to change and Joel was getting better since he spent a few months in Jackson.

“Let’s talk this through and put our guns down.” Tommy said.

“You first.” Tyler looked at Tommy then to Joel.

Tommy put his guns down slowly. Joel didn’t.

“Hey! You too.” Tyler shakily pointed his gun to Joel.

Joel cleared his throat as he put his gun down slowly. As Tyler put his gun down slowly after Joel, you thought it was the perfect time to run away from this mess and your abusive boyfriend. You took a deep breath and got ready to run. When everyone’s gun was on the floor, you ran as fast as you could. 

*Bang*

You heard a gunshot when you were just out of the room and you stopped running. 

“Joel!” Tommy shouted.

Your body shook and turned your head slowly. You saw your boyfriend’s dead body laying soulless on the floor. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands. 

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked you.

You shook your head. You didn’t know how you felt. You were sad that your boyfriend died but you were also relieved because you were finally free from him.

“Were you close with him?” Tommy put his hand on your shoulder.

“He-uh-he was my boyfriend.” You nodded.

“He tried to kill you.” Joel said behind Tommy.

Joel walked closer to you, “Twice.” 

Apparently your boyfriend took his gun and tried to shoot you from behind when you tried to run away. And Joel shot him before your boyfriend pulled the trigger. He knew from his gut that you were worth saving so he took his chance. 

You were speechless so you just stayed quiet. The two men asked you to come with them. They told you they have a place for you with nice people, nice clothes, and food. Tommy had to bring some supplies on his horse so you ended up riding the horse with Joel. 

“You’re gonna rip my jacket if you do that.” Joel grabbed your hand and moved them on his waist.

Your heart beat faster but you felt safe around him. You were too tired from your day and all the shocks so you rested your head behind his broad back. 

“It wasn’t twice.”  You suddenly said.

“Huh?” Joel didn't follow.

“Tyler-uh-the one you killed-he tried to kill me multiple times.” Tears fell down to your cheeks.

“So..thank you. You saved my life. I owe you.” You wiped your tears and rested your head again on his back.

“You’re safe now.” Joel answered you.

“Sorry.” You chuckled, suddenly realizing your tears made his jacket wet. You rubbed his back trying to dry it.

“It’s okay.” Joel chuckled. 

The End

[strang3lov3]

20 questions for fic writers tag game

thanks for the tag @covetyou !!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 28, but this doesn’t match Tumblr. I think there might be a fic or two missing from ao3 that’s on Tumblr and there are definitely fics on ao3 that are not on Tumblr. I leave up my old private on Tumblr fics. 

2. What's your total AO3 word count? - 205,304

3. What fandoms do you write for? - TLOU and Succession, so Joel Miller x Reader and Roman Roy x Reader.

4. Top five fics by kudos - Cup of sugar, joyride, death by flirting, exit wounds, lookalike. All of those fics are old as fuck and I wish I could delete them or at the very least rewrite them, exit wounds is deleted from tumblr though.

I don’t like ao3 very much. It’s desolate over there lol. I feel like I don’t have any readers on there and I think part of that reason is bc I stopped posting to ao3 for a long time. I HATE posting on ao3 I find it so tedious. 

5. do you respond to comments? - of course! I try to respond to all of my comments when I post a new fic, but when a fic is old I kind of slack on responding, especially if it’s just a WHEN IS PART TWO comment. Blech. 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - Has yet to come because angst is not really my steeze. I’ll be writing heavier topics soon, though. 

A lot of writers use fic as a way to work through feelings and I admire that, but that’s fucking hard to do for myself. I like to write fics for the purpose of amusing myself mostly. 

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?  - mall rats! They ate Cinnabons and 69’d. What’s happier than that?

8. Do you get hate on fics? - Nope, but I’ll get an annoying comment from time to time. Like the part 2??? comments bug me the most, but those generally come from people who don’t really read my work anyway. I’m blessed to have readers who are kind, patient, and appreciative of my writing. I recognize almost everyone in my reblogs and comments and love you all <3 

9. Do you write smut? - exclusively. I used to do fluff back in my virginal days, but it’s just not my thing anymore. 

10. Craziest crossover? - has not happened, though I thought about writing a Joel x Reader x Roman Roy fic. Don’t know who that’d be for, though. 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? - yes, three times. The most recent instance was in the last few weeks but I just let it go. Not worth the fight. 

The two times prior, my fics were word for word plagiarized but my readers, moots, friends, and even people I don’t know went to bat for me. Like it was insane, because the first time I was alerted by someone who doesn’t even read Joel fic, they were a HOTD blog. And then the second time, an Eddie Munson reader alerted me that someone stole my fic and replaced Joel’s name with Eddie!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? - Don’t believe so. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?  - Nope, and I never will. I like my fics to be my own. I don’t want someone waiting on me, or me waiting on them, or we clash on the story. Similar reason as to why I don’t do writing challenges. 

However, I love to brainstorm with other writers. I love hearing their ideas and offering my own and I think this form of writer support is a beautiful thing. 

14. All time favorite ship? - bob and Linda from bob’s burgers, but I don’t think anyone writes bob and Linda smut. I haven’t gone a lookin’ though.  I do know that bob and Linda role-play porn exists online and I’ve heard good things about it. 

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? - I will finish them, excuse you. I just need to be brave. 

A Pain That I’m used To - Joel/Reader, working through sexual trauma. That’s all I can really say. 

Vinegar and Salt - Joel/Reader, infidelity, sleazy cheating Tommy, age gap, guilt, sneaking around. 

Lullaby - Dark!Joel. he’s sort of an incubus, sort of a ghost, sort of a human? Idk. He’s outlined, ready to be written, but I don’t think anyone will like him. 

Make it Wrong - Icky DBF Joel. DBF where it crosses all the lines and then some. He calls you kiddo.  

16. What are your writing strengths? - I think I’m good at characterization with my two comfort characters, Roman and Joel. I think I’m also good at dialogue, and I’m good at making things funny. I think I’m good at smut too, I get myself horned up by my own writing. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses? - procrastination is the biggest. I also tend to box myself in and not step out of my comfort zone, and I think that hurts me because I feel like my stories are repetitive. 

But you see my wips above! I have all these heavy things I want to write and what do I write mostly? Lighthearted fics where Joel fucks the dogshit out of you because you've annoyed him, or he's humiliating you because you're masturbating in his bed or some shit. These wips are so out of my wheelhouse but I need to challenge myself and grow. 

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? - it’s fine. I don’t think about it. Except I know that I prefer when writers have translations before a fic, and not like in English in parentheses next to the dialogue. That takes me out of it. 

19. First fandom you wrote in? - what I wouldn’t give to see my very first fic. I was probably 13/14 and it was about Norman Bates from Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. I still think he’s hot. Years after that, I tried writing for Jim Hopper but I was no good at it so I gave up. Joel is my main squeeze, and I’ve been brave writing Roman. 

20. Favorite fic you've written? - Erotic City. I liked all the 80s music references in there, I thought it was a hot and creative concept. I still wanna restart it as a series, but god knows if/when that’ll happen. 

NPT -  @beefrobeefcal @endlessthxxghts @joeloverture @joelsgreys @atticrissfinch @beardedjoel @ezrasbirdie

[heartpascal]

HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!!

it’s the final week of exams!! (or will be in about an hour) which is very exciting stuff as you can imagine!! so come friday i hope y’all are ready and active for me to return (though probably without any fics to post immediately) !!!

just to let you guys know what i have in the works:

- approximately 4 halfway written joel father figure fics, including but not limited to: joel coming to terms with being a dad (again), reader with the tendency to run from anything that could be good in their life, tommy introducing reader to the two newcomers in jackson (aka tricking joel into adopting you)!!!

- part two of is it freedom?

- tommy miller platonic fic ITS GONNA HAPPEN

- considering some moon knight fic ideas (if you guys would want that)

so YEAH THOSE ARE THE CURRENT PLANS!!! oh AND a compilation of everything the amazing howl has contributed for my fics <3

and here’s your reminder to cast your vote on this post for how the is it freedom? universe is gonna go <3

other than that i wanted to show you guys this tiktok because i saw it as i was writing is it freedom? and it made me so :((( so yeah. and on the topic of is it freedom,,,,

i’m hoping for it to be my most inclusive fic yet!!! which means no gender, no white-coded reader, just complete anonymity. so this also means no physical descriptions of the reader’s parents, other than their behaviours and the backstory!!! i’m HOPING. obviously i won’t always get everything right but i am hopeful that if i get anything wrong you guys will be able to correct me :’) but also hopefully in a nice and respectful way!!!

i am not a spanish speaker, which means that i won’t be including any spanish unless i’m advised by someone who DOES speak the language!! which also means we can avoid that whole thing of the reader being unable to understand spanish although some of y’all might be able to!!

i don’t exactly know where that fic is going yet, but i have a lot of hope for it!! i think it has potential for sure!!! and i’m excited to be writing something new, even though i’m kinda struggling with pinning down the spiderverse characterisations!!

so yeah. part two of that IS coming and i also do have some gender neutral joel fics in the works too :’) i understand how frustrating it can be to read x reader fics and the descriptions be so incredibly not aimed at you. i cant make promises and i will probably make mistakes but in the new era of post a level writing i’m hoping to be better and more inclusive <3 love you all sm.

[thelightsandtheroses]

Theories? Ideas? Triple frontier?? Spill the tea babe

Thank you so much for the ask, lovely! Ah, Triple Frontier - I actually rewatched the film twice recently when I was travelling as my film for the flight. I just genuinely adore Frankie Morales and I really want to write something for him. I apologise in advance if this answer is way too long!

My fic idea for Frankie: I really want to play with some tropes I love but haven’t written before. I’ve already seen some done brilliantly in this fandom (e.g. brother’s best friend) so I want to leave those for now as I’m not sure my idea would add anything new to that trope but there are some fun ones to still explore.

I am a big fan of he falls first and friends to lovers, both of which I think are quite Frankie Morales in general.

The idea I’m currently playing with is post film, with Frankie in the position of kind of part way through getting himself together again; he’s single, trying to get more visitation with his kid, is finally trying to stop couch surfing and get his licence back so he’s not entirely at rock bottom but he’s not where he wants to be. He meets the reader, though I’m still deciding if I want to make them an ofc as writing as the reader is newer to me and feels slightly less natural but then practice might help! My current ideas is to have the Reader coming in as the friend of Benny’s new girlfriend (or possibly some other way I’m still ironing that out) who hasn’t been in Florida long and ends up becoming good friends with the boys. The other idea I have for this which I’m leaning more towards is she’s linked to Tom somehow - because while I am not a fan of Tom it could be super interesting to use this to explore life after the film too for the boys and her finding out more about what happened. Like maybe she’s his niece or sister who has moved back to Florida? Anyway, the Reader has her own past she’s working through, and the two of them connect but neither of them realise at first the other likes the other that way so they’re both hiding their feelings and trying to get themselves to a version of themselves they think will be more ready for the other, not realising where they are. Hopefully it will be better and less vague than it sounds writing it down here. I also have a bodyguard au idea for him but I’ve never written a plot like that so I’m a little nervous.

My general Frankie head-canons and theories

I feel like the movie just broke him systematically over an hour and half so I kind of want to write something that’s about him putting himself back together again. Also I think he was done with Pope’s scheme before he even got on the plane. He did it for loyalty over anything else.

Also I think as much as we’re told about his loyalty and friendship with Pope, some of that to me read as more of the actors’ friendship coming through than just the script. Maybe it’s me, so I’m interested to see how I could explore that friendship more in the wake of the film, like Pope looks pretty worried about Frankie at the end but is also talking about going to Australia.

I have a whole playlist I’ve been building for Frankie and writing him/the idea I mentioned. There’s a fair bit of Taylor Swift (like all my playlists) but also I have some 90s there, some Fleetwood Mac (Frankie loves Fleetwood Mac, I’m sure of it) and also a song called Sometimes by Gerry Cinnamon which felt quite Frankie to me.

Other ideas: I’ve been playing with a couple of ideas for some Joel Miller fics too - more one shots, one idea I have is about bonding over music and the other is a Jackson era idea

Thank you so much for the ask and hopefully I haven’t rambled too much

[fictitious-little-stitious]

Requests are...closed 🛑

Closed indefinitely as of May 17, 2022. Admittedly I didn’t promote it much, but there was very very little interaction since I first opened it March 27, 2022. I will finish the lovely request I received, but other than that I probably won’t open them again. BUT I spent so much time on this very detailed post that I’m still keeping it around. Look at me all organized. 😂😂

Rules:

My blog is NSFW, 18+. Please respect this.

You must have your age/age range in your bio or pinned post. I will be checking.

Requests can ONLY be submitted by sending an Ask. No DMs.

I have Anon ON but I will only write non-explicit topics if you anonymously request.

I reserve the right to decline any request and make exceptions to my own rules.

Please expect and respect that I may take a long time to complete your request. Or be unable to complete it. The concept of time and I don’t always get along, so bear with me. But I do believe that what I write is ultimately worth the wait. 🥰

You can respectfully double check via Ask or DM that I got your request! Please include the character, idea, general time you sent it so I can find it.

I’m Ready to Write ✅

These Characters:

Agent Whiskey / Jack Daniels

Dave York

Din Djarin / Mando

Ezra

Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Javier Peña

Marcus Pike

Pero Tovar

Reader:

I’ve mostly written with Gender Neutral! and Fem! reader inserts, but you can give me specifics if you wish.

General Themes (see under the cut for more specific tropes):

angst, comfort, fluff, humorous, romantic, serious, platonic

Length: ficlets and drabbles so less than 1K words. I usually write between 400-900 as it is lol

Requesting:

Be as open-ended or as detailed as you like! You can submit your own ideas or I’ve included a few lists. If you want ideas from these prompt lists, you must send me 2 things in the Ask:

Character name

The entire prompt + the title of the list it is from (Example. #2 “You don’t have to stay.” from Drabble Prompts list)

Optional: Extra details like pronouns, tone, setting, your characteristics if you want it more personal, etc.

Prompt Lists: Choose from these or send something of your own ☺️

Drabble Prompts

Eerie Atmospheric Settings: Plot Starters

Five Word Prompts

Prompt List #1

Prompts that Make Me Go 👀

Touches Ask Game

See under the cut for more specifics on characters and tropes I’m open to writing. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Pedro Characters

Made from this Pedro Pascal Characters List with extras added by me lol. Click image for higher quality.

Image Description: Icons of Pedro Pascal characters are organized over a black background into 4 rows by categories: a green Yes!, a yellow Maybe?, an orange Need to See Them First, and a red No. End description.

Yes! 🟢

Agent Whiskey / Jack Daniels

Dave York

Din Djarin / Mando

Ezra

Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Javier Peña

Marcus Pike

Pero Tovar

Maybe? 🟡 (open to consideration)

Marcus Moreno

Max Phillips

Oberyn Martell

Maxwell Lord

Need to see them first 🟠

Dieter Bravo

Javi Gutierrez

Joel Miller

Nico

No 🔴 Not negotiable.

Pedro Across the Street from Calls (the one of him on the phone)

Sorry to the TV and made-for-TV movie characters. We can’t all be Marcus Pike. 😂

Tropes and Content

Made from this Fan Fiction Tropes Tier with extras added by me. Click image for higher quality.

Image Description: List of fanfic tropes represented by white square icons with emojis. Trope icons are organized into 3 categories: a green Yes!, an orange Maybe? and a red Won’t Write. End description.

Yes! ✅

Angst

Baby fic

Canon divergence

Enemies to Lovers

Established Relationship

Fake Relationship

Fix It Fic

Fluff

Friends to Lovers

Hurt Comfort

Humor

First Kiss

Miscommunication

Missing Scenes

Mutual Pining

Pregnancy Fic

Sharing a Bed

Slow Burn

Unhappy Ending

Unrequited Love/Feelings

⬇️These weren’t included but also ✅ ⬇️

Allusions to or Implied Smut

Exes

Maybe? 🤔 (open to consideration)

Arranged marriage

Coffee shop AU

College AU

Crack Fic

Fairytale AU

Historical AU

Huddle for Warmth

In Vino Veritas

Soulmate AU

Love Triangle

Won’t Write ❌ Not negotiable.

A/B/O

Amnesia fic

Bang or Die

Body swap

Crossovers

Dark Fic

High School AU

Magic AU

Major Character Death/Injury

PWP

Royalty AU

Time Loop

⬇️These weren’t included but also ❌⬇️

Hostage or Kidnapping situations

Whump

Thank you reading! 😘♥️ This is a lot but I don’t want to leave anything out. Rules and info may be subject to change.

Line dividers by @ firefly-graphics