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billiedeansbitch · 4 months

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𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰)-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

<< PREVIOUS PART

Chapter summary: Two things came: Larissa's orgasm and her lab results.

Notes: Some plot is plottin' huh? *Smirks*

Tw: light mentions of depression and grief. Character death (not significant). Homophobia.

*Not beta read*

“Oi, kid, we’re goin’ out for drinks, you gonna come or what?”

“Nah, I can’t, sorry. I’m going home to Jericho.”

“A wife waitin’ on ya?”

“Uh, no,” a pause to shake your head, “but someone special.” You then added and nodded, agreeing with yourself as you thought of the other shapeshifter.

Your co-worker patted you on the shoulder with a resigned sigh, “All right, suit yourself.” he left the room, a toothpick hanging off his lips.

You beamed to yourself, shoving your stuff into your bag and turned off your monitor. It oddly felt nice to admit these things not only to yourself but to others, letting them know that you weren’t available in some way…

The office was almost empty, looking around you everyone had clocked out already leaving you and the janitor alone.

It had been a busy week, the last time you saw Larissa was Tuesday morning at five am, she was loosely wrapped in her kimono-style robe, softly gazing at you as you pulled your car off her driveway and before you could drive away she called out to bid you a goodbye kiss. It was something that had your head in the cloud for days, a parting gift that made your insides all tingly and warm and now, you couldn’t wait to go see her.

These last few weeks had been surreal, you two had been spending more and more time together, more intimate than being casual but could you really blame yourself? Hell, anyone would kill to be in your position. Larissa was the dream, she was everything and to be able to do these things to her, hold her hand, kiss her, make her smile were your absolute fantasy all coming true.

You worry sometimes, yes, that maybe things weren’t as real to her as it was to you and try as you might to ignore it, it dampened your mood all the same, but hey, she said she liked spending time with you if that was anything to go by.

Your phone pinged once you were off the expressway turning to a smaller road leading to Jericho. The notification showed “Not your wife” and your grin couldn’t get any bigger, you quickly swiped the notification and it redirected you to messages. Of course she didn’t know that was what you saved as her contact name, she didn’t need to know that or the one you save before that “friends with consequences”

Not your wife:

Will you be coming over tonight?

(Larissa was biting her lip when she sent that text)

Then three dots appeared. She was typing. You were glancing from time to time waiting but she never sent another text then it disappeared. So you quickly typed a short reply, “omw”

You received a cute emoji showing thumbs up and you giggled, finding it oddly charming of her before it was followed by: “Careful driving. Be safe and keep your eyes on the road.”

–

She kissed you first, or maybe you did, it didn’t matter as you two ended up on the couch in the living room with her underneath you, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt while her lips pressed open mouthed kisses all over your neck.

“Missed me too much?”

Larissa responded by stealing the breath out of your lungs and kissed you hard, “I think that confirms it,”

She was needy, you could tell, by the way she groped your chest once your shirt flung off and as much as it excites you and made your libido sprung to the roof, you couldn’t help the nagging thought that there was at least something wrong.

“I need you,” she had her hand on your waist while the other was busy expertly undoing your belt, “Please,” the way she pleaded against the skin your neck, her breath hot, as she shoved her hand under your pants had you grinding your hips against her, anything that was in your head quickly faded.

And if you thought she had already caught you off guard, then you were mistaken because when she uttered the next words right into your ear that was when you completely lost it.

“Are you going to be a good girl and fuck mommy hard?”

It was your turn to bury your face into her neck as you sucked a breath, “Yes, mommy.” as shiver ran down your spine and before you knew it, you shifted yourself, holding just the tip against her centre.

“Wait. I need you to use this from now on every time you shift. Is that okay?”

“A condom? But…okay. Yes, of course.”

“Good girl,”

You could do nothing but obey like a pet.

–

“Thank you. I needed that.” You were still on top of her, skin to skin. You had a proud smile on your face, her delicate fingers combing through your damp roots.

“I needed it, too.” She leaned, kissing the tip of your nose.

“There’s a store bought rotisserie chicken in the fridge, you can heat that up and I made salad. You know your way around, right?”

“We’re not eating together?” The disappointment was too thick in your voice and Larissa tried to soothe the visible frown on your face by gently caressing your brow bone with her thumb.

“I still have a lot of work to do. The sooner you let me work, the sooner I am finished and after that I will be all yours. You think you can be good and wait for me while I work?”

The idea of her being all yours did a little bit of magic, casting away the frown as your blush deepened.

“Yeah but can I stay in your office? I’ll be quiet. I’ll just probably read a book or something, please?”

A small smile flourished on her face, “We can give it a try.” Because knowing you, and herself, neither of you would last that long without being distracted and she really needed to work.

“Okay.”

You both laid for five minutes more, basking in the comfort of each other’s warmth and silence that engulfed the room bringing peace into your minds.

–

You kept your words and stayed quiet as possible, even the shifting to a new page was ever so silent. You didn’t know what you were reading, the words weren’t really processing at all but you needed it to keep your hands physically occupied to sell your act not that you think she was buying it anyway.

From time to time your eyes stray from the page of the book to the woman behind the desk, observing how the lines on her face deepened when she was making a face or how she would scoff while she read an email or something that definitely pulled a reaction from her. Which then made you giggle behind the pages especially when she would squint so hard before eventually leaning on the screen of her laptop because she was too stubborn to put her glasses on or the way she dominantly used her index finger to navigate her phone screen like any middle-aged person you knew.

It was all something you had grown so fond of over the months, you didn’t know if it was the obvious gaps in your ages that had you so drawn to her but that certainly played a part behind these reasons of why you were feeling more and more entangled with her like you could really see her staying in your life for good this time.

When you thought there was nothing for you anymore after losing your family to an accident just merely a week later when your girlfriend dumped you for some guy. You were ready to succumb to these bad habits. You had already started in fact. Your tolerance for alcohol was getting stronger and your fixation to cigarettes was growing out of control. You were wallowing in your own loss and depression day by day until she came and saved you. It literally felt like being scooped into her arms and being cradled on her lap while she spread tiny kisses all over your face.

When she walked in your parents’ house after the funeral you just…your mind took your back from your seventeen year old self.

The others were blocked in your head, their voice vaguely registering. You watched the crowd part, erupting into curious whispers and measuring glances.

Earlier that day as the caskets were getting buried, you had caught a fleeting glimpse of her, you blinked it away, too occupied with overwhelming loss and grief but when you saw her in clear daylight as the sun shone brightly, basking the room in the first golden rays of the sun after a gloomy rain dressed and accessorised in black strutting her way in the middle of the parted crowd, you couldn’t rip your gaze off even if you tried.

Something ignited within you that day. This hopeless, massive crush you had for her came back like it hadn’t been a decade since you last saw her and maybe yes, it would have been an awful timing yet you found it as a perfect distraction and she gladly provided that.

You remembered her smile, the soft hand she put on your shoulder and the little squeeze. You remembered not breathing and just awkwardly staring at her while she told you the fondest memory she had of your parents.

When the reception was over and mostly everyone had bid you their goodbyes, she lingered offering you help to clean the place.

And after that, maybe weeks or a month later, you reached out to her (thank God you didn’t lose the card she gave you) asking her out for a drink.

To your surprise, she agreed.

Larissa wasn’t around much when your parents were still alive and you were living on the same roof as them. She came to visit once or twice and you never spent much time with her, always locked up in your room or out with your friends, though there was this one particular night when she came for dinner wearing red suited for her skin and that smile and radiant eyes just spoke to you, they were stealing your attention and for the rest of the evening you couldn’t help but blush whenever she glance your way that was when you knew you had a crush on her

You didn’t think of it as inappropriate then, it was after all, just a silly crush. Something utterly foolish but she grew in your mind. You couldn’t forget about her until you were in your senior year in college, she was all you could think about while you kissed your professor. You craved to see that woman again.

And now you found yourself sitting in her chair, dozing off, the book slipping from your hand and onto the floor, the thud jolted your body to wake and so when you looked up Larissa was done and fixing her table.

“Are you alright?” she asked,

You smiled weakly, “Yeah, I just startled myself.”

You got up, picked the book from the floor and settled it down on the seat. You were on your way to the connecting bathroom, feeling your bladder full.

Larissa’s face was suddenly pale for whatever reason when you entered the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest until you opened the door and emerged with a pout on your face.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Pardon?”

“You didn’t get the hand wash I suggested you, you said you were gonna get it.” The woman looked visibly relieved, you didn’t think much about it, too busy pouting.

“I was supposed to but they didn't have it in stock. I’ll make sure to get it next time when they do. Is that it?”

“No. I hate to inform you that you’re not gettin’ somethin’ tonight.”

She lifted a brow in question,

“My period started just right about now. I can’t believe my body will betray me like this, like man, can’t it wait until I’m outta here? Stupid organs.”

Period meant no shifting. Larissa let out a laugh, shaking her head softly and tilting to the side, a hand on her hip, standing like the statuesque woman she was.

“Who says I’m scared of blood?”

“Don’t be nasty, Miss Weems.”

You laughed and walked toward her, “Come on, let’s get some food in your system, lady.”

“You go ahead. I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be quick. Do heat up the chicken, yes?”

“That chicken better be good.”

—

The chicken was good, surprisingly so that you inhaled the whole thigh like a goddamn cannibal starved for meat. She watched you in the corners of her eyes, smiling down on her food while she ate her portion with more grace and actually chewing.

You did take her advice when Larissa told you to slow down before you choke. After dinner, you insisted on washing the dishes while she sat there with her legs propped up on another chair and enjoying a good glass of wine.

It was the last plate when you felt her, heard her moving, until eventually she was pressed behind you with her lips on your shoulder, the scent of wine strong in her breath.

You nearly dropped the plate in the sink, fingers gone cold and stiff; heart pounding in your chest. One of these days she’d legit give you a heart attack.

“You’re being so good to me,” there was no lust in her voice, only the kind of warmth that pleasantly stirred your guts. You wished it was the wine talking, though you knew that a single glass of red wouldn’t induce these thoughts.

Maybe this was the scary part. It was easier when her desires were prominent in her touch, the way it dripped down in her voice because you directly knew what she wanted. But when she was like this? You were out of words, you didn’t know how she wanted you to react and it wasn’t as simple as taking your clothes off every time she’d give you a hungry gaze.

“Don’t tell me, that me, doing the dishes do it for you,” you giggled, tearing some paper towels to dry your hands.

“Don’t get all cocky now if you don’t want to spend a night sleeping on the couch, dear.”

She would never do that. You turned around in her arms, giving her a pout.

“I very much doubt that. You won’t last long without begging me to come back to your bed.”

Your faces were now mere inches apart, “I ought to teach you a lesson one of these days.”

“Oh, is that true, Principal Weems? Or should I say, mommy?” The last word was mouthed against her lips, not quite touching but close enough that you felt her body tensed.

You thought you won this little game but the smile was quickly gone when you felt her wrapped her hand around your throat. You swore your brain short circuited. Your thoughts, reduced to nothing.

She leaned, making sure her lips touched yours before she whispered, “Careful, sweet girl.

Your lips parted, welcoming hers as they collided with force. Soon, you were sucking on her tongue and feeling every inch of her.

“The wine tastes better in your mouth.”

Larissa beamed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “What should we do tomorrow?” She asked so sweetly as if her tongue hadn’t been shoved in your mouth moments ago.

“I wanna bake. It’s been long since I’ve kneaded something other than your ass or tits.” you hastily groped her ass.

Weems dramatically feigned a gasp, “Such a foul mouth, darling.” She tsked.

“Those words were not even one percent of the filthy things you’ve said to me.”

It drew a smirk to her face, proving your words to be true. Her eyes narrowing down at you.

“Should I remind you where my mouth has been lately?” You said, your fingers playing with the button of her blouse. The flirty lilt in your voice was easily matched with her eyes.

“Mhm.” It was all it took to get you down on your knees, one of her thighs prompted up to your shoulder.

“So wet already, huh? All of this is just for me, right?”

–

The bedroom lights were dimmed, Larissa was unpinning her hair, now in her robe as she sat in front of her vanity and you were laying with your stomach under on the bed, watching her. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, the expected blush creeped to your cheeks like the many times before.

“Tell me about your day, dear. Did Margie or Margaret—whatever her name is—make further advances on you?”

“Her name’s actually Maggie, and yeah, kinda. She bought me another coffee and asked me if we could eat lunch together. I told her no, I kept the coffee though…”

“Mhmm, and what else?”

“Uh, she told me she’d wait? Like when I’m finally okay and all, which doesn’t make sense because I am okay—great even. And she said that I can come to her if I need a shoulder to cry on. She thinks I’m still grieving. She’s okay as a friend but past that? No thanks. I feel perfectly fine right here plus I’ve got more than a shoulder.”

The last sentence seemed to put a smile on her face so you smiled, too.

Once she was done and dressed, you scooted to your side of the bed to give her space. Larissa opened her arms, motioning for you to come closer so you did, wrapping your arms around her torso with your head nestled perfectly comfortable on her chest.

For months Larissa was firm on keeping things light, she never asked or demanded anything from you. She understood what she was, and where she stood. Your thoughts were your own for the longest, but as, whatever this was in between you, went on for longer than she was prepared for, she found herself caring for you enough to ask what she had been dying to since the beginning.

“Do you miss them?”

Larissa felt the air grew heavy, not necessarily awkward, only it was hard for her to breathe when you went quiet like this. She could feel you thinking, so she held you tight, afraid you’d leapt out of her arms and bolt away.

Then you breathed the word out like a confession you had been keeping for so long that it’d break you if held it in for one more second, “Yes,”

“I’m sure they’re proud of the woman you have become.”

“I’m not so sure about that. They never approved of any of this. They viewed my happiness as a sin. So, no, I don’t think they are but it would have been nice if they did.”

There was so much hidden pain, well concealed by the smile that could have easily fooled her, but the long pauses and the way you avoided her gaze gave it away.

“Plus they didn’t want me pursuing my, you know, ability. They had always been appalled by the thought of having a freak daughter. They were a couple of hypocrites if you ask me. They celebrated others but they kept me in the dark. Always telling me to be normal. I never knew why they treated me like that.”

Larissa couldn’t believe this. Your parents were good people (now she doubted that) they attended charity events for the school and donated a fortune, they seemed enthralled by the outcast community so to hear this from you, she was heartbroken. To think that they did this to their own daughter… She hugged you closer, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. Her heart was aching like it was a physical pinch.

“That's why I left the soonest I could. They were suffocating me.”

It was hell, that decision forced you to endure a heightened level of stress and struggles, it showed you what real exhaustion was like when you thought you had enough of it while sitting on your desk at two in the morning rushing to do your maths homework.

You wanted to laugh about it now until your belly hurts. You wanted your parents to see wherever on earth or beyond they were, that you were finally at peace, that you had somehow ended up with the decent life they said you could never have just because of you who were.

You caught yourself going too far with your thoughts when you felt Larissa gently squeezed you, wordlessly checking if you were okay.

“It’s fine. It was something I had to live with until I no longer needed to.”

Larissa chose the silence over further speaking out her thoughts. Your emotions were obviously high, she didn’t want it to reign over you although you were considerably calm but who knew what else was going on in your head right now and she’d rather not risk it.

Aside from holding you impossibly close, the shapeshifter sought for your hand and linked your fingers together making you grin like a fool against her. You weren’t big on physical intimacy before, thought of it as gross at some point, but that was because you didn’t have intimate relationships with anyone and seeing others do it without understanding what it really felt like made the idea so repulsive and overrated.

Now you craved it. You welcomed it as long as it was from her.

“Rissa?”

“Hm, yes?”

“I want blueberry pancakes for breakfast.”

The woman chuckled, the vibrations going straight to your ear, filling you with positive energy and so much happiness.

“Alright, we’ll have blueberry pancakes in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

–

Earlier that week…

“Larissa Weems?” She stood up from the waiting room as soon as she heard her name being called.

The staff held out the brown envelope with a smile too pleasant for it to be true. It irked her.

She had been on edge the second she came in, and so, Larissa didn’t return anything warmly, instead she was like a cat baring her teeth to anyone who’d dare to make small talk with her like the young couple who was sitting close to her talking her ears off.

She snatched the envelope too roughly with her gloved hand. She didn’t thank anyone or even offered a polite smile. As soon as she had it she went straight for exit leaving everyone stunned and exchanging looks.

“Someone’s dick is getting cut off tonight.” Someone's husband joked, earning a jab on his ribs from his wife.

She heard that but she didn’t care.

Larissa sat in her car, it was still parked behind the clinic, she held the envelope and ripped it open.

It was her copy of the results. HCG test results.

There were two pages, Larissa skimmed over the first part with her heart racing and her breath shaking.

Larissa was forced to hold her breath as she muttered the words aloud.

“hCG Level: 13 mUI/ml”

“An hCG level between 6 and 24 mIU/mL may require retesting or further evaluation.”

When she realized her period was delayed she pondered if this was what her Doctor debriefed from their last encounter as a premature menopause, however she lacked certain signs and symptoms to further support the idea.

That was how she knew she had to take the tests. So while you peacefully slept, Larissa took two from her cabinet and did it in her office bathroom.

They came out negative. Of course they were, she wanted to laugh at herself for thinking otherwise. It would have been impossible to conceive knowing you were biologically a female but at what extent did science draw the line? Especially if being an outcast affected it and some supernatural shit.

She couldn’t be so sure so right after you left that morning, she drove to the next town and had it done there.

She thought having it printed in papers with charts and numbers would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Oooh so the results came and it's somehow tricky because it's not low enough to be negative but all not high enough to positive...

Hmmm and they're using condoms now 🫢

Anyway, thank you so much for everyone who had good things to say about this fic and to those who wanted another part :)) I appreciate it all :))

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems imagine #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie imagines #larissa weems smut #Some g!p action #billiedeansbitch

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allzelemonz · 8 months

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Dare: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

(Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Javier Esquella)

Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur nearly shrieks, his head turning away from a much drunker Sean.

“Oh, come on now, Englishman.” Sean giggles. “We’re all men here, ain’t no trouble at all, is it?”

His hand palms at the bulge in his pants. A bulge that has only now been noticed and has the rest of camp’s attention. Bill fixes his eyes for a few seconds before he looks away, shifting his legs nervously. You try to look almost anywhere else.

Sean grins. “Ya know what, fellas, I bet you I can get myself off ‘fore any a’ you.”

Micah scoffs. “We all heard yer whore goin’ off ‘bout how ya can’t last, cowpoke.”

Sean hisses, stilling his hand. “Fine, then I bet I can ‘least outlast a greasy arse of man like you.”

“What?” Javier grimaces. “You want us all to sit here with our dicks out?”

“Embarrassed, Mister Escuella?” Sean laughs, giving him wavy eyebrows.

“We’re not all gonna jerk off in front of each other.” You mutter. “That’s insane.”

Sean sits up, putting a falsely offended hand over his chest. “That ain’t fair, big man.” A grin grows over his face. “What if I dared all a’ ya?”

“A dare?” Charles mutters.

Sean proudly puts his hand over his bulge. “I dare each a ya ta last longer than the legend Sean MacGuire. An’ whoever lasts longest, I’ll give ya my share a’ the job.”

The men around the fire shuffle, some hiding their own erections, others simply uncomfortable. It’s just a handful of the young men here, sent out for a train job. Arthur stares into the fire, as does Charles, Bill glances all around as he tries not to look at anyone at all, Micah and Javier seem more insulted than anyone. A dare is an odd thing, often able to make a man do things he never would, stupid things at that. And one like this, as odd as it is, is almost a challenge to each one of your own masculinity. Everything about dicks is.

You assume that’s why it’s Micah that starts unfastening his pants first. “Fine.” He mutters.

And Javier follows, wordless. Then Bill, fumbling quickly. Sean flicks his eyes between the rest of you as he fishes himself out. You admit, confident in your manhood or not, a dare is a dare so you pull your dick out as well. Arthur grumbles something to himself, doing the same. Charles is the last, seemingly embarrassed and likely thankful that his complexion hides most of the heat in his cheeks unlike most of you.

“Alright.” Sean says proudly. “Everybody gives a good effort, whatever ya like, long as ya don’t stop. Huh?”

Nods follow, each man showing their nerves in little bits and averting their eyes as much as they can. Plenty of you have been naked in front of each other or just caught glimpses during a piss break, but it’s much odder with this context to see each other’s dicks in hand.

“Count a’ three then.” Sean grins. “One! Two…! Three!”

You lick your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself, focusing down on that sight as opposed to anyone else. You flick your wrist loosely, moving slow and trying to ignore how the shivers spread over you. If you were alone it wouldn’t be much stimulation, but knowing you’re surrounded by six other men makes it just a little more exciting.

When you chance a glance up you find shamelessly wandering eyes and slow strokes all around. Arthur’s face is flushed red as his eyes stare around, the most shame anyone has. Sean lets noise spill from him easily, his hand the first to move faster. He doesn’t last long past that, Micah laughing at him as he releases.

“Shit…” Sean sighs, staring down at the mess of his pants.

Some of the other men still, looking at the loser of the little competition.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” Sean says with a smile. “Winner gets my share a’ the job, remember?”

The slow strokes continue.

Sean looks around for a moment before you see a grin spread over his face as he tucks himself away. “‘a course, that don’t mean I can’t play favorites.”

“The hell’s that mean?” Bill mutters.

Sean stands, slowly making his way over to Micah. “Ain’t like ya need the money, do ya?”

Micah eyes the Irishman warrily, but makes no move to stop him from dropping to his knees. Sean shocks everyone around the fire when he takes Micah in his mouth. Micah hisses, moving his hand out of Sean’s way and into his tangled red hair. Bill gasps next to you, his eyes fixed on the sight. You look away, the thought of Sean’s share of money paying for a nicer saddle or something keeping you restrained. Micah caves, gripping Sean’s hair and fucking into his mouth until he releases.

Sean coughs and splutters, swallowing most of the cum before he can pull himself away. “Least…” Sean spits. “Least you ain’t winnin’, ya lousy arse. When’s the last time ya wash that little thing a’ yours anyway?”

Micah scowls at him, tucking himself away. “You wanna play rough, MacGuire, fine.”

It’s like a cloud of hated lust washes the sense from everyone, both Micah and Sean moving to a target they don’t want winning.

As Arthur glares at Micah, Sean smirks. “New rule, boys. Ya get picked by somebody that’s out, ya gotta let ‘em try fer at least a minute.”

“That’s stupid.” Arthur mutters, eyeing Micah as the blond smirks down at him.

“Only fair, Morgan.” Micah says. “I ain’t gonna be the only fool that got out on a technicality.”

Arthur grumbles, but doesn’t stop Micah from gripping him and stroking furiously. Your heart skips when Sean’s eyes meet yours and he takes a few steps forward.

“No hard feelings, big man, Bill said he’d buy me a drink.” Sean snickers as he drops to his knees in front of you.

You shudder when he touches you, your hot skin buzzing at his cool fingers. But before you can blink, his mouth has engulfed your entire length. Sean is far too good at this. He bobs his head and you will yourself not to give in for the minute he has.

Across the fire, Arthur shoves Micah away. “Ya had yer chance, sick bastard.”

Micah grunts, wiping his hand on his pants before turning to Bill and starting his process again. Bill moans at the touch, struggling not to buck up into Micah’s hand. You’ve lost track of Sean’s minute, but he wasn’t far behind Micah so you shove at his shoulder.

“Better luck next time.” You say, your voice shaking a bit as you replace your hand.

Sean grins up at you, whispering. “Hope ya win.”

Likely because he’s losing his promised drink with the way Bill is shutting under Micah’s touch. Just as Sean reaches Javier to tease, Bill releases with a gasp. Micah grins to himself but you catch it, you also notice how he doesn’t stop as Bill shakes but instead strokes him through it.

“Get Morgan.” He mutters.

Bill nods, sweat covering his face. Micah straightens himself and glances between you and Charles, opting for you after a few seconds.

“Sorry, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Just rather touch you than him.”

“Fuck off, Micah.” You say through gritted teeth.

Micah smiles at you as he sits down next to you, leaning close as his arm wraps around your waist and his hand closes on your dick. “That ain’t any way ta talk. I’m ‘bout ta get ya off, ain’t I?”

For as much of an ass as Micah is, he’s good at this. Your mind wanders, picturing all the times you’ve seen Micah by the fire cleaning his guns. His fingers wrapped around the barrel as he drags the cloth over the metal.

“Shit!” You gasp.

Micah’s hand feels better than Sean’s mouth did, fast and furious strokes making you have to stop yourself from squirming. A low groan from Javier takes him out as he fills Sean’s throat, the Irishman not pulling off like he did with Micah and choosing to swallow it all this time. Only a moment later, Arthur mutters a curse as he releases onto Bill’s face and dirties the man’s beard. He mumbles an apology as Bill grumbles about it, both of them blushing deeply.

“Alright, alright.” Sean says. “Let’s give our finalists a chance.”

Micah leans a little closer as he takes his hand back. “Win this, cowpoke.”

You shutter as his breath hits your neck.

Sean grins. “Hands away now, boys! Take a breather.”

Charles pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he eyes the group. You swallow thickly, still feeling all the heat from Sean and Micah’s attempts. Charles hasn’t even been touched once, he has the advantage.

“How should we do this, boys?” Sean asks, turning to the group of losers. “Let ‘em keep at it, help ‘em out?”

“This is stupid.” Arthur grumbles.

Bill is too occupied with trying to get the cum out of his beard to answer.

Javier is still catching his breath from his orgasm.

Micah shrugs.

“Fine.” Sean grins. “I’ll be the judge ‘ere. Javier an’ Bill.” He points to you. “Ya work on ‘em an’ Arthur an’ Micah get Charles.”

No one moves for a moment. You look over and share a sympathetic look with Charles.

Sean groans. “Come on, boys! Have a little fun… I’ll buy a round a’ drinks.”

It’s enough to get Bill at your side, Javier follows as Micah and Arthur go to Chalres.

“Alright, count a’ three.” Sean grins, rubbing his hands together like the schemy little shit he is. “One, two…three!”

Bill goes straight for your dick, wrapping his big hand around it and stroking almost as well as Micah. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting. It becomes infinitely harder when Javier’s hand dips below Bill’s and finds your balls still tucked in your pants. He leans in close, whispering a mix of English and Spanish in your ear and you know well enough that every word is dirty even though you try to tune it out. You can hear Micah snickering in the distance and take it as a good sign, he’d be the type to laugh at Charles getting off and losing. Bill’s other hand wanders up your chest and squeezes at your pecs briefly before he winds it under your shirt and feels at your skin. Javier’s other hand finds your jaw and his fingers trail as he turns your head. Your eyes peek open in time to see him smirk, then he kisses you as his hand squeezes at your balls firmly.

With their hands all over you, you can’t hold it anymore. It’s like a burst. The waves hit you hard and you spasm as you cum over your pants. Bill strokes you through it, his other hand gentle as it settles on your waist. Javier muffles whatever odd little noises you would have made, trailing off in smaller kisses before he stops. You open your eyes to look at him and he kisses your cheek with a wink. The three of you look over at the competition. Micah is stroking furiously, as he did with the others he tried to sabotage while Arthur kisses Charles’s neck and a hand plays with his nipples under his open shirt. Charles won, he hasn’t cum yet.

“Damn it.” Bill grumbles, glancing at you. “Was hopin’ you’d win.”

“Your fault.” You reply, breath still not quite back in your lungs.

Bill blushes. “Sorry, got, uh, caught up…”

“‘s alright…” You slur, head spinning still.

Sean doesn’t say a word to stop anything, holding a finger to his lips to silence any of you from alerting them. It’s only fair. Charles holds strong, though he seems to enjoy it when Arthur kisses him properly as his hand grips the other’s hair and holds him in place. Micah, never one to like losing and still unaware of his sealed fate, takes Charles in his mouth. Javier has to clap a hand over his lips to keep a laugh from alerting them. All of you sit in shock, never expecting Micah to suck off a man he berates on a daily basis even for the sake of winning some silly competition.

Charles’s hips buck and Micah moans when his hair is gripped and his mouth is used. His hands do nothing to stop it, only wandering over Charles’s thighs as he’s used. It only takes a minute after that, Charles’s hips stutter and he holds Micah flush to him as he releases. Arthur continues to kiss him and Micah is held in place despite his squirming until Sean clears his throat.

“Ya won, boys.” He grins. “Unless ya wanna keep goin’.”

Micah shoves himself away, falling back on his ass as he spits and coughs. Charles watches him, smiling for a moment before pulling Arthur closer and continuing.

“Alright then…” Sean turns to you and your saboteurs. “Anybody else all cheeky now?”

Bill grumbles something, standing and going over to Micah. He grips the smaller man by his collar, yanking him to his feet and shoving him towards the little collection of tents.

Sean has his eyebrows raised when he turns back, but he grins. “I ain’t gonna lie, I seen them hidin’ in the trees a couple times.”

“So you made us all get each other off?” Javier smirks, his arm draping around your shoulders. “Lousy move, cabrón.”

“I didn’t make ya do a thing ya didn’t wanna.” Sean crosses his arms. “It ain’t my fault you boys all wanted ta fuck each other.”

You sigh, remembering to tuck yourself away and glancing over to the winning fools. They’re nowhere to be seen. “They sneak off?”

“Suppose they did.” Sean chuckles. “Filthy sods.”

Javier waits a beat before turning to you. “Seems like everyone else is having a good time tonight. You wanna?”

Before you can answer, Sean whines. “Ya gonna leave me out? I’m the one that got ya started!”

“You’re taking then.” Javier mutters.

Sean grins. “Happily.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Fine, I guess.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me, cariño.” Javier whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

You hang your head, smiling softly. “Shut up, Escuella.”

He tugs at your arm as he stands, pulling you with him.

The fire light dies down over the course of the night. Faint, muffled moans and whimpers can be heard if you really listen, but it’s mostly that distinct sound of skin hitting skin that echoes well into the night. Some of you can’t walk in the morning, very much complicating the robbery and no one knows how you all are going to explain the failure to Dutch.

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corvidcrossbow · 22 days

Text

~•♡•~ Total Eclipse Of The Heart

➳ Summary: You take Daryl to watch the 2017 solar eclipse (Daryl x GN!Reader)

➳ Setting: Southern Virginia, August 21st, 2017 (in the 6 year timeskip in season 9)

➳ Word count: 1.6k

➳ C/W: Nothing

➳ A/N: Simple thing cuz I hated Leah watching something as special as the eclipse w/ Daryl in the show cuz I DO NOT LIKE her ass so I rewrote it cuz I believe there's few things more bonding than watching an eclipse with someone. Whippin out the dad music reference on this one. (I am working on reqs! I just have training for my job which my boss very reassuringly dubbed “bootcamp” and health shit is beating my ass I need to call like 3 specialty clinics again um 🗿)

“Ya ever gon’ tell me where we goin'?”

“Nope. Almost there,” You replied, a cheeky grin on your face as you swiveled your head back to glance at Daryl who sat behind you on his motorcycle. You'd dragged him out of his guilt-ridden solitude in the forest and demanded he get on, saying you needed to show him something and would not be taking ‘nah’ for an answer. You'd been driving southwest for nearly two hours now, headed towards something specific.

Daryl had little sense of the date, having spent nearly the last 3 ½ years out in the woods, wrapped up in his search for Rick. You stayed with him from time to time, Carol checking in as well, but he was too stubborn to go home with either of you no matter how many times you urged it. Even if he knew the day, you weren't sure he'd even know why it was special.

You, however, had been tracking the calendar and lunar cycles, and kept one specific date and pattern in your mind for the last 7 years; August 21st, 2017. You remembered ages ago, reading on science forums and listening to programs on the television, that today, the paths of the moon and the sun would perfectly align and grace a total solar eclipse across the entirety of the United States.

Your lives were such shit in so many ways: flesh eating, rotting corpses snarling after you at every second, run in after run in with malicious and corrupt people and groups, the lack of food, water, shelter and security, so many people gone – and that didn't include everything from before the dead reawoke. And with Daryl unadmittably depressed after the bridge, you would've done anything to show him there were other things in life to focus on. To live for.

So you left Alexandria early in the morning, found Daryl's camp, and forced him to join you. At first he'd thought something godawful had once again disturbed the communities, so bad you couldn’t tell him. But when you started driving the opposite direction, he grew confused and repeatedly asked what was going on, yet you never gave him an answer. Still, he trusted it was important – trusted you – and let you lead him.

❥-》》—————➣

You pulled off the side of the road, powering down the engine and putting up the kickstand, sliding off and stepping to walk into the forest. You'd gone further down into Virginia, knowing that was closer to totality. It wouldn't be complete, but the distance made a difference. “Alright, c'mon.”

Daryl grabbed your wrist, tugging you back and catching your attention, his eyebrows narrowed. “Really? Tha hell's s’all this? Ya haul me'ah hundred miles away tah walk in tha damn forest?”

“Ya spend all your time in a forest anyway, Dixon.” His expression hardered a little, and you sighed. “Please just follow me. I promise you, it's worth it.”

He looked over the features of your face, judging the sentiment they conveyed, and after a moment let you go. You were already here, no point in going back now. As you spun back around, he begrudgingly trailed after you.

You scanned the environment as you went, stopping near an opening in the canopy of trees that gave view to the sky. You could tell by the slanting of shadows and the slightly abnormal shape of light above you that the process had already begun, all that was left was to observe. So you set your bag down and sat, motioning for Daryl to as well.

“Thi'sa picnic or sum?” He questioned, grunting a little as he unsurely slung his belongings off his shoulder to the ground and did the same, settling beside you.

“Could be, I do have some food.” He didn't seem amused. “But no, not a picnic. You know what the day is? Any idea why it's meaningful?”

“Ts'summer, kno’ tha’. M'ah supposed tah kno’?”

“Maybe, I don't expect you to. Here.” You twisted and opened your bag, reaching for a welding mask you'd brought along and passed it to him. “Look at the sun.”

The archer eyed the facial shield, then you, but listened and held it to his face before shifting his gaze up. He squinted, taking sight of the arc carving that ate into the historically circular form of the burning celestial body. And you explained; “It's August 21st… 2017.”

He had to think for a bit. “Tha eclipse?” He lowered the mask and peered back at you. Memories lodged deep in the layers of his mind sparked; learning about eclipses way back in highschool and hearing his teacher mention it, then the annular one in ‘94 and seeing pictures plastered all over the news where they discussed the future.

“Yeah, thought we should see it. It'll look better down here, not perfect, but still… and the lens on that is dark enough it shouldn't hurt our eyes,” You answered, taking your own look before laying back and using your bag as a pillow. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but that's roughly the last thing you cared about right now.

He couldn't help but just stare for a minute, studying how nonchalant you were about everything. How you'd so easily removed him from his rut when so many other attempts had failed, even with his cluelessness around your intentions – like some larger force took hold and finally willed him to break his destructive routine.

Daryl sprawled out next to you on the forest floor, trading the welding shield back and forth over the course of the next half hour, as well as a piece of paper to see the casted geometry. You both watched as more and more of the sun was etched away, taking mental images each time and comparing the new form to the old. It was mostly quiet, lost in similar awe but varying thoughts. You inched closer every time it was his turn, assuming he noticed but didn't point it out.

“Y'know… total solar eclipses are meant to be when the deities and energies fuse, just as the paths do. A window for opportunities and transformation… time for change,” You commented, recalling all people said about the symbolism of such an event. He gave an ‘Mm’, just so you knew he'd heard you, but paid more attention to the progression in the ethers.

The world around you began to rapidly darken, a sliver of orange glow visible in the makeshift glasses. Knowing it was close, you slid your left palm into his right, weaving fingers together, and he returned the hold, still remaining absorbed in the view.

The moon crossed over the sun – at least as best it would from your vantage point; golden rays illuminating around solid black. As Daryl's eyes locked on the sky, taking it all in, yours locked on him, choosing to watch him over a potentially once in a lifetime occurrence. He lowered the mask to briefly see it fully, now reaching for the sheet.

He looked at peace, maybe for the first time in his life: the constant storm of thoughts that persistently clouded his mind finally parting, even if for just a small moment. You witnessed the glitter of genuine emotion return to his blue's, something you'd feared was so long abandoned it may have been forgotten. Rich browns of his wavy hair glowed iridescent auburns when shimmers of sunlight peeked through the leaves, perfectly complementing everything about his being.

You knew you each needed that change.

“I love you.”

He took a second, making sure the sound of your voice was real and not crafted by his own imagination. His head turned, somewhat staggered to find your eyes already meeting his. It was impossible to rip away, your visions warping together as you seemed to merge, entranced by the little crescents that reflected on each other's irises. His free hand ditched the paper and reached over as he partly rolled to his side.

“For a long time.”

In fluid movements, Daryl's calloused fingers smoothed across the delicate skin on your cheek, leaning in and bringing you to him in a longing kiss. You didn't entirely expect it, although you didn't expect anything in particular at all, too unsure of how he'd react. But you pushed back against him, deepening the kiss and paying no thought to anything beside how it felt to finally overlap with him – till he broke away.

“I love ya too,” He mused, accent thickening in the confession. When you opened your mouth to continue, he shut you up with another peck and angled your face straight above. “Watch. M'not bein’ tha reason ya miss this.”

Words could wait, but the eclipse would not. So you obliged, cuddling closer to him and squeezing his hand as birds and insects sung in a concerned ensemble triggered by the daylight's disappearance.

The tranquility was eerie, a sensation mostly left in the rubble of society and replaced by prevalent chaos. You wondered if the feeling was shared elsewhere; at home with everyone in Alexandria, with survivors across the entire rest of the country. Maybe those who didn't know thought the holy spirit was returning to rescue your raptured souls. Did the walkers pause to look too? Everything so out of the ordinary it caught their attention?

But none of that mattered to you, because you had it here. And you basked in it with the one person you'd always hoped you would've.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

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ghoularaki · 4 months

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baby's breath | 1

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,719

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm

Proudly you could say, you were doing well by yourself. Life hasn't been the kindest to you. By the age of eighteen you had been kicked out of your home over ten times. To say the relationship between your family was rocky would be an understatement. For a couple years now, you hopped from place to place.

In the current climate, you were having trouble finding an apartment to live in so you either slept in your car or spent your day in the university library. Residing in the dorms simply wasn’t an option as your scholarship wouldn’t cover the nearly ten-thousands of dollars it would be. And you weren’t about to send yourself in further into debt.

You supposed this was expected of going to such a prestigious college town, but your options were limited. Wracking a hand down your face, you were barely paying attention when a voice called your name.

“Y/n! Is that you?” The voice called from the left of you.

Looking up from where you were about to open the door to a coffee shop you frequented, just to spot a face you hadn’t seen since you were a preteen.

“Mr. Smith?”

With his stature he made quick work to close the distance to you. The man had barely changed even after the decade you last saw him.

He laughed and waved his hand flippantly, “Please, call me Erwin.”

Slightly uncomfortable, you said, “How are you, Erwin?” You never really did the best with small talk.

The egregious man easily put a hand over your head to fully open the door. “Come, let’s catch up over coffee.”

Already too late to refuse, you walked closely behind and followed his lead. Erwin picked a spot near the window with two wooden chairs. The coffee shop was quaint with a scheme of different clashing furniture. On lucky days you could snag the cushioned recliner. Painted on the circle table in front of you two was a faded sunflower and tiny, white flowers. As he sat down, the rickety chair groaned from his mass.

Settling in your seat, Erwin was already looking at you, a whimsical expression on his face. “What do you want, I’ll order for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You bent down to grab your bag, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“I insist.”

Leaving you no room to resist, you replied, “I will just have a hot chocolate.”

A chuckle left him at what you assumed was because of the childish request. You weren’t privy to coffee and the tea here wasn’t the best. He got up to order your drinks and you fiddled with your phone while waiting for him.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you questioned how you got yourself in this situation. There was nothing wrong with Erwin, it’s merely because he was friends with your father. You didn’t want to judge him based on your strained relationship, but you barely remembered Erwin beside brief glimaces. He was a suave man who knew how to command a room. Obviously, with how he got you to join him for coffee without even lifting a finger. It might have more to say about you than him.

“Here’s your drink,” Shooting up from your slouched position, Erwin approached with both cups. His was a ceramic mug with swirling black and white designs. It suited him. Yours was a dainty, pink and ivory china tea cup. Even as the years passed, he saw you as a little girl.

Going back to his seat, he took a sip of his coffee. “I must say, you have grown. A lot. I almost didn’t recognize you. You really have grown into a beautiful woman.”

Coughing, your face heated up enough to cook an egg on it. “I- uh thanks. You don’t look any different.”

He really didn’t, despite him being in his forties, he surely didn’t look it. Crow’s feet crinkled at his eyes and fine lines imprinted on his forehead and near the corners of his lips, but besides that he didn’t age a bit from your childhood.

Erwin’s bushy eyebrow quirked up in amusement, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Realizing how insulting that can come off, you laughed and explained yourself. “Yes, it was supposed to be a compliment.”

Taking it in stride, he gestured for you to drink your hot chocolate. You blew on it and sipped on the chocolatey beverage, humming, content with the flavor.

“So what have you been up to? Last time I spoke to your father he said you had left home.”

You rolled your eyes with scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.”

“I’m taking it, he kicked you out again?”

Even with the decade of not seeing him, he knew your family never really favored you. You weren’t a problem child per se, you just had no qualms of standing up for yourself compared to your jelly-spined siblings.

“When doesn’t he,” You joked and you were met with a chortle, but his face showed concern.

“Are you holding up?”

You hated how the tone shifted to something serious. Playing it off, you smiled, “Besides with my History homework, I think I’m doing just fine.”

Erwin reached over the table and placed his hand over yours. His palm easily engulfed your hand. Warmth spread from his skin to yours. “If you need help, please don’t be a stranger. And for the homework, why don’t you come over tomorrow and I can help. I am a professor, you know?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” You grimaced, unsure of whether or not to accept his help. On one hand, you hadn’t seen him in years. On the other, you really did need assistance. If you failed this class, you’ll lose your scholarship and you couldn't afford that.

He reached behind himself and pulled his phone from his back pocket. Unlocking it swiftly with his thumb, he pulled out a new contact and nodded his head towards the phone. “Put in your phone number and I will give you my address. Unless you need a ride?”

You shook your head, “No, no. I can get there myself. Thank you so much.”

Plugging your phone number in, you handed the contraption back to him. His thumb flew across the screen and your own phone buzzed against the table. On your lock screen you spied he already gave you an address and to meet him at one PM.

“Does that work for you?”

Smiling up at him, you quipped, “Certainly. See you then.”

Glancing back at his phone, he sighed, “I must go or else I will be late for my next class. If anything comes up, don’t be afraid to message me. Goodbye, Y/n.”

With that, he got up from his seat and briskly walked out of the coffee shop. Through the glass, he had a certain twang to his walk as he approached his fancy, black car. Almost like he was giddy. Once he was out of view, you slammed your head against the table and groaned. Screw you and your inability to say no. At least you were getting a free tutor out of this.

“Rich fucking bastard,” You muttered under your breath as you pulled up to his home.

His house was old styled with light colored bricks and black framing. The abode strayed from civilization. His neighbors were across the acres of woods surrounding the area. Between the foliage, their lights peeked through, but still distant.

The driveway was paved and you thanked his income as you had no clue if your car could handle a dirt road. The old model had been with you for years, but it was reaching its end. Parked by his own car and you observed how there was another car by his. The model was a matching hue, but was a medium sized truck instead. You tilted your head in perplexity as to why a professor would need such a vehicle. Especially as you spotted various tools in the bed.

Wisping away the dwindling thoughts, you tugged your ratty backpack from your passenger seat. As you stepped out, you felt so drab compared to the scenery. Slinging the backpack higher over your shoulder, you walked up and rapped on the door. You debated whether or not to text Erwin you were, but the thought of him escorting you from your car to his porch was humiliating. You were a big girl, you could go up to a door and knock.

The man who opened the door certainly was not Erwin. He was definitely shorter than him, but the way he crossed his arms, you could tell with how the muscle rippled under the fabric, not to underestimate him. The man’s hair was inky strands parted to the side that fell under his eyes. Silver clashed with your own irises, sharp and analytical. He picked you apart as much as you did him.

“You must be the brat.” If his words weren’t so belittling you would say his voice was soothing. A deep, dark timbre pleasant to your ears. Likened to how the ocean culls.

Your face twitched and decided to ignore his taunt, “Where’s Erwin?”

The man’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t decipher as he opened the door further. Taking that as you cue, you walked further into the home. The interior was just as grandeur as the outside. Muted colors were splattered across the living. Rich people loved their minimalism and you weren’t surprised the home barely had anything of importance in it. There were picture frames of Erwin with other people you didn’t recognize besides the man who directed from the mud room.

“Take off your shoes,” He instructed, not answering your question.

Toeing off your sneakers, socked feet welcomed the cool carpet. As you opened your mouth to repeat yourself, Erwin perked up from his recliner in the living room. Thumbing the off button of his phone, he placed it on the cushions and went to greet you.

“I see you met Levi.”

“You could say that.”

The man you now know named Levi walked off with a grunt into the kitchen. What a charmer. Erwin beckoned you over with his hand like you would a dog. Patting the empty spot on the couch, you walk over and take a seat. Slacking your shoulder, your bag tumbled to your side.

“Is there anything you would like to drink?” Erwin offered.

“Just water is fine.”

As the older man went to fetch the beverage, Levi called from the kitchen, “I also have some tea brewing?”

You perked up at that. Levi didn’t give you the impression of someone who liked tea, but the more you think about it, it suited him. He did give off grumpy, old man vibes.

“What kind?”

Instead of answering, he came out of the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups and a fancy kettle. The metal and china clinked together as he placed it down. A sweet, mild aroma filled the air as he poured both cups half way. You spied the odd way he held the cup around the brim.

Levi sat on the recliner adjacent to the couch Erwin was once in. Reaching over for your own drink, you sipped it and let out a happy hum at the taste. His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t really decipher. Though, you assumed delight as he adjusted himself closer to the edge of his seat.

“This is really good! Is this green tea?”

“No, white.”

Erwin and Levi glanced at each other. You ignored it. The cushion dipped when Erwin sat at a respectful distance from you. You were caged between the two older men. Yet, you weren’t uncomfortable in the least. “So what are you having trouble with?”

In the time you had reconnected with Erwin, he had helped you get back on your feet. After what seemed to be the eleventh time coming over his house, you let it slip, you were living out of your car. The shock befallen on the man’s face surprised you. He seemed almost offended you went so long without telling him of your living situation. It wasn’t like you were keeping it a secret from him. The topic simply never came up in conversation.

Immediately after hearing the news, Erwin brought you into his home office and helped you search for apartments. You refused and explained you couldn’t get one not out of choice, but because you didn’t make enough money or have a credit score.

“I can help pay for it if that’s the issue,” He said casually.

“That’s asking for way too much.”

Twisting himself to face you in his rolling chair right next to yours, he continued, “If it was too much, I wouldn’t be offering it.”

“Yes, and I’m saying it’s too much,” You emphasized the ‘I’m’ to express how uncomfortable it made you feel.

For the first time in your life, you watched Erwin’s face steel in annoyance. His nostrils heaved out a slight flare and his thick eyebrow ticked. “You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?”

Smiling, you offered a quick, “Yep!”

“Since you refuse to let me pay for the apartment, at least let me find you a better job so then that issue is tackled,” He opened a new tab and put in his own bank, “Right now, let’s sign you up for credit card.”

Unable to refuse the more palpable help, you followed along as he lectured about credit scores. In a couple months, you were able to become an almost fully functional adult, no longer needing to sleep in your car or shower in the school’s gym. Your apartment was quaint and small, and only a ten minute walk from the campus.

Even though Erwin got you back up on your feet, you still frequently came to him and Levi’s home for school help. And for a more embarrassing reason, those two were your only source of companionship. Having two grown men, one two decades older and the other almost two decades older, be your friends must seem pathetic. Yet, you couldn’t complain when you noticed your favorite food always stocked in the pantry or how Levi let you drink his precious tea.

Both men had a key to your apartment in case of emergency and also gave you your own copy of a house key for the same reason. In a very long time, you felt safe, warm and protected.

Despite having a key, you still knocked on the front door. Rocking from heel to toe, you were greeted with Levi instead of Erwin. Very similar to the first time you visited.

“Erwin is going to be late. Shitty department heads had to hold a meeting,” Levi’s gruff voice explained.

“That’s fine, just more time for me to bother you.”

The older man clicked his tongue.

Levi was a tough person to pinpoint. He was grumpy, stoic, cussed like a sailor, but oddly gentle and patient. He could easily read the room and fill in what was left gaping. As much as he put up a cold front, he showed his affections in tiny gestures. He would act annoyed at you or Erwin’s playful behavior, but he never did push either of you away.

“I’m going to make tea. Don’t make a mess.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not a child. I’m not going to start throwing shit.”

He swung his head around the corner and glowered at you, “Knock off your shitty attitude.”

“Knock off treating me like a baby. Both you and Erwin do it.”

“Because you are a baby,” He went back to the tea and you followed him into the kitchen.

You hopped on the counter next to the stove and started swinging your legs. Levi glanced at you, before going back to the kettle.

“How am I a baby? I’m literally in my twenties.”

With a gentle hand, he gripped your calf. You stopped in shock. Not once had he ever touched you. His palm engulfed your shin and a shiver went up your spine at the warmth. You attempted to move your leg, but it didn’t budge. Levi clutched onto the appendage further.

“I don’t remember seeing an adult swing their legs like a kid on a swing.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but shut it once again with a ‘hmph!’ He did have a point.

He removed himself from you as quickly as he clung on. The shape of his hand lingered.

“I-I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Leaping off the counter, you didn’t let Levi answer as you barrelled towards the hall. It was hard to describe the sensation settling in your chest. Sure, the touch was innocent enough, but how he easily held you down with a firm hand was discombobulating.

As you skittered deeper into the home, you noticed a door slightly ajar. During your stay here, you never really did stray from any other places besides the living room, the bathroom and Erwin’s office. Everything else was a mystery in the large home.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you slowly approached the door. One foot in front of the other, your hand stayed outstretched. Just as your hand cradled the knob, the door slammed closed. You screeched and jumped.

A looming presence encompassed your hunched frame. Turning your head, there stood Erwin with an overly pleasant smile on his face. His arm was outstretched where he closed the door with a large, forceful palm.

“Let’s not overstay our welcome, shall we?”

You gulped, goosebumps shot all over your skin. The air was sub zero as you trembled. Something shifted out of place and it wasn’t the doorframe.

Since the day you almost found out what was in the other room, the men appeared to be on edge. You tested it while both men were preoccupied and said room was now locked. Whatever was in there, they did not want you finding out. This only furthered your curiosity.

As the days bled more into each other, Erwin became overbearing. Since exam season had arrived once more, you were too busy to visit the luxurious home. What was a couple visits a week, turned into maybe once a week, if that. When you did come over Erwin would hound you about living with him since you said both working and going to school was wearing you down. Of course, you refused. You finally obtained stability and freedom, why would you give that away?

You held your head in your hands, sitting in the chair Erwin bought you for his office. Stress was getting to the both of you.

“Erwin, for the last time, I am not going to move in here,” You glanced up from your slouched position.

He grew so much taller from this angle. Like a god sitting on top of his cloud.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for me to provide for you. I have more than enough money to go around, it won’t hinder me in any way.”

You sighed, “Yes, I get that. We both get that. But you aren’t seeing my side at all!”

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, “Please enlighten me.”

You wanted to pull your hair out. This wasn’t something you haven’t told him before. “You are treating me like I am a defenseless child that needs to be coddled. I am thankful for the help since without you I would probably still be living in my car, but that’s not the point. I am stable and I don’t need you to hold my hand anymore.”

“So you admit it; you wouldn’t be a functional adult without me.”

Ire built in your throat and you spat it out, “I would have never accepted it if you were just going to throw it back in my fucking face.”

“Language.”

Your mouth dropped in a disbelieving smile. You launched yourself backward from the chair to assert yourself taller than him. It did very little.

Pointing your finger in his face, his complexion stayed unamused, “Right there. Stop belittling me. We are two adults having a conversation, treat me as so.”

He emerged from his seat and took back his place as the one with a height advantage. You were easily knocked down a couple pegs.

“An adult wouldn’t shove fingers in people’s faces,” His tone stern, tittering towards anger.

“Can you blame me! I get it, you are old enough to be my dad, but I don’t appreciate you acting like you are.”

“I am hardly acting like your father.”

“You’re twisting my words!”

His nostrils flared, “Watch your tone.”

“Fuck off.” The choice words weren’t probably the smartest, but you were at your limit as he was.

All you saw were icy blue eyes darken before your face swung to the side and your collapsed into the office desk. Your cheek caught on his paper weight. You fell into the wood with an audible clunk and bang. Clutching on your injured cheek, you glared up at Erwin.

“Nope,” Was all you said.

Detaching yourself from the wood, you cradled your face as you stumbled out of the office into the hallway.

“Y/n, wait!” Erwin called from behind, but you only shuffled faster.

Blood stabbed your tongue. You licked your bottom lip. The force had cut the skin as well.

“At least let me clean the wound,” He begged.

Now in the living room, Levi poked his head out from where he was sitting on the couch. His eyes caught the tears bubbling over and how you cradled your face.

“The wound?” Levi’s focus was now on a stressed Erwin trying to hover over you. “What the fuck happened?”

Erwin tried to answer, but you beat him to it, “He hit me and I’m leaving.”

At that, he shot up from the couch and rounded the side, “Whoa, whoa, slow down. What did you do?”

“I-I don’t know,” Erwin was in a daze.

Levi walked over to you and tried to pry your hand from your swelling cheek, but you shook your head away from his grasp.

“I’m leaving,” You repeated and shoved past him.

Before he could even get a word out, you slammed the door closed and ran to your car. Shakely grasping your keys, you unlocked your door and slumped into the seat. You slammed your hands against the wheel and screeched. Tears streamed down, irritating the wound.

Roughly wiping away the salty water, you buckled yourself up and put the car into drive. As you rounded the driveway, you swore to yourself to be smarter next time. Depending on others was a debt you couldn’t afford.

You wanted to claw your skin off, screech, throw shit—anything to release the pent up wrath inside your gut. It had been weeks since you promised yourself you would never come back to Erwin and Levi’s household, and yet, here you were. During the time you eradicated yourself from their lives, Erwin had blown up your phone with varying types of messages. They stemmed from pleading to him demanding you answer him. Levi only offered one message the whole time.

“Make sure to keep the wound clean.”

The gesture was sweet, but in the moment, it felt infantilizing. You knew how to take care of a tiny cut. After the fiftieth call, you blocked Erwin’s number.

Radio silence met you for a couple days until you realized you couldn’t access your bank account. Then you got a call that you were fired from work. Next was the message you got from your landlord that you have an eviction notice despite paying rent on time. The last straw was when you tried to call your landlord back only to be told your phone had been shut off.

“Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot,” You muttered to yourself. You had trusted Erwin way too much with your finances and now you were stranded. You barely even had enough gas in your tank to get you out of exact proximity to their house if shit went down.

Slamming the door closed, you marched your way over to the entrance and banged on it as hard as you could. As if expecting you, Levi opened the door. His face was a lot more haggard than the last time you saw him. His under eyes were darker, the purplish hue sunk deep into the skin.

“Where the fuck is he?”

Levi merely sighed and sidestepped to let you go on your rampage. There, sitting in the living room, Erwin had his ankle resting on his knee. Carefree as ever.

“Care to tell me why the fuck I can’t get access to my bank account or my landlord won’t let me into my own goddamn apartment!” Your voice bellowed and sunk into the walls.

Erwin’s expression of cold steel did not waver in your anger. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I’m not here to play fucking games, Asshat,” You sneered. Whatever patience and timidness you had when first meeting him dissipated. You wanted your life back.

“Watch it,” Erwin ordered. He arose from his seat, taking the high ground once more. From behind you, Levi made himself comfortable against the wall with arms crossed.

“Now is not the time! I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I need money and my apartment to live, Erwin.”

“I can take care of you.” Like a broken record, he refused to see reason.

You clutched your head in frustration. Nails dug into your scalp as you fight off the tears threatening to keel over. “Listen to me,” You begged.

“I have been listening and I don’t see why you would rather suffer than let me give you a life of comfort.”

You closed your eyes and moved your hands to dig your heels into the sockets. Letting out a shaking exhale, you said, “I am not going to throw my life away to be forced into a home where I am nothing better than a dog. A comfortable dog, but one nonetheless.”

“It wouldn’t be forever, just until you’re done with school,” Erwin tried to negotiate but you saw through it.

“And then it will be until I’m done with grad school, then pushed further until I find a job that suits my degree, and then it's until the income is high enough for your standards. You will never be satisfied.”

Erwin’s jaw ticked. There’s nothing to be said as you laid out in front of him exactly what he planned to do. He only wanted to give you the world and you wanted nothing of it.

“See! You can’t even deny it,” You laughed out loud, in hysterics.

“You’re acting like I’m shackling you to the basement. All I’m asking is that you live here with me—us—so you can finish your schooling worry free.”

“A decorated cage is still a cage.”

“Listen here,” He began as he approached with thunderous steps.

You stumbled backwards before solidifying your footing. You weren’t going to allow him to intimidate you.

“No, you listen here. I am done with you. If I have to, I will live in my car again. I am leaving.”

As Erwin comprehended your threat wasn’t empty, he glanced at Levi who stayed silent the whole time. Similar to a panther on the prowl, waiting. He kicked off the wall and sauntered over to your form.

Attempting to spin around to run out the house, Levi slung an arm across your neck and dug his forearm into your throat. He squeezed as you scrambled to slide your fingers in between your neck and the muscle. Your fingernails were no match for his ropey tendons.

Obviously you struggled, but it's nothing against the burly man. Even with his stature, he was stronger than Erwin. With his free hand he tugged a syringe from his pocket. He bit off the cap with his teeth and spat it out off into the room. The sharp prick hit the fragile skin of your flesh. Something was depleted into your veins. Your lips tingled as the oxygen left your lungs and the room spun round and round. Nausea crept in as your eyes crossed.

“See you soon, Pet.”

#yandere x reader #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere erwin smith #yandere levi x reader #yandere erwin x reader #yandere aot #yandere #aot smut #erwin x reader

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zialltops · 7 months

Text

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky attitude or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: hi guys!! I’m fresh off finishing east side of sorrow and couldn’t wait to hop into this work. I can not thank everyone enough for the fun we had with esos, but i am beyond stoked to meet this joel because i am ferallllll for him all dirty on a ranch with a cowboy hat on a horse ughhhh, give it to me already. anyways, let me know if you like it 🤍 thank you to @sawymredfox for letting me idea dump on you and give me all kinda of ideas! i love you to pieces! this ones for you my dear!

A03 Link | Spotify Link | Masterlink

Pt. 1: Oklahoma Smokeshow

Half a mile from the turnpike, two miles from home, along the winding and twisting asphalt of Cold Creek road, Joel Miller rasps his gloved hand against the steering wheel of the Rising Sun Ranch’s newly bought—second (maybe fifth?) hand old pickup truck. A beat up nineties chevy with rust on the floorboard and a new-car tree hanging from the rearview mirror. Beside him, his brother Tommy bounces his knee while he takes a long drag off his second cigarette since this drive started. The smoke plumes through the window, then back inside when the chill outside pushes the hot smoke back into the cab, whirling around Joel's senses like it belongs there. The smell is insufferable and makes Joel’s skin crawl, takes him to a time before ropers scars and belt buckles.

“Know that shit’s gon’ kill you, right?” He doesn’t need to look over at his brother's form beside him to know the younger man is anxious, like he usually is on long car rides. “You used to do it too, big brother.” Joel scuffs at him, keeps his one gloved hand on the wheel as he keeps on driving. He’s not wrong, if he wants to talk about the Joel of ten years ago, a distant, ragged and angry version of himself. “Don’t remind me.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the snow coated road ahead of him. He’s cautious at this time of the year, the winter storms usually leave them stranded on the ranch for a few weeks, but he’s lucky enough to have caught the dark clouds before they started to let down too much. The salt on the roads seem to do the trick for the time being, so long as he stays away from the embankment and keeps his eyes on the dimming road ahead.

It was mid day, but the sun sets early in the winter, so it hangs low in the sky amongst the cold abyss, like it’s desperately reaching out for the horizon—like it wants to run from this place too. He looks ahead and silently wishes to himself that he could follow those last rays of sunshine into tomorrow, like maybe he would find something there.

He shakes the thought and sets his mind back on track, why they were out here. “When we get back to the ranch, you need to find a way to apologize to Miss Lou. She really was just tryin’ to be helpful, Tommy. She ain’t wrong for that.” Louise had always been more than welcoming and kind to them, she’s saved their asses more than once and she feeds them more than she needs to, but his brother can never seem to let a good thing be, always biting the hand that attempted to feed him.

“Don’t like it when people go through my shit, man, you know that.” He’s nearly done with his cigarette, thank fuck because Joel wants to grab it from his hand himself and chuck it out the window. “She wasn’t goin’ through your stuff, dipshit, she was doin’ your laundry! Doesn’t give you any right to snap at someone like that. Especially a nice lady who’s husband give’s us a dollar in our pocket and a roof over our heads. Do you have any Idea where we’d be without that?”

It cuts deep because Tommy flicks his butt out the window and sinks down in his seat, he knows Joel is right because they are incredibly lucky to be where they are now. They would probably never find somewhere as appealing as their little shared hunting cabin a half mile from the main house. “Hank ain’t happy,” he adds, like Tommy doesn’t already know that after the argument that led to them leaving. “We wouldn’t be out in a goddamned snow storm for fuckin’ flowers if Hank was happy.”

Joel finally glances over, but when he does, it’s at the bouquet of flowers sitting beside him on the bench seat. “Doesn’t matter, you still need to apologize—to both of them. We wouldn’t have shit if it weren’t for them—“ they wouldn’t, they were on their last leg, hitchhiking across half the country when they found an ad outside of the feed store in Jackson looking for a ranch hand in exchange for room and board. Joel gave them two for the price of one and the rest was history. Tommy makes an annoyed sound and interrupts. “Joel, what's that?” Directly in front of them, on the side of the road caught in an embankment is a little blue car sunk all the way down to the lug nuts. It doesn’t look like the person lost control, but they just drove into the embankment.

This road isn’t frequented and the cell service is spotty, but the taillights on the car tell him there's someone inside. “I’m stoppin’ to help,'' Joel informs him, but Tommy shifts and rolls his eyes—he’s never been the humanitarian type. “Why? I’m sure they can pay for a tow truck. Besides, if they are stupid enough to get stuck in an embankment, they can suffer.” Usually, Joel would agree, but the closer they get to Christmas, the more that iced over heart of his starts to thaw out.

Joel stops the truck on the road and leaves it running while he looks over at his brother. “Ain’t leavin’ nobody stuck out here in this storm, even if they’re stupid. They won't make it through the night.” He shuts the door behind him and stuffs his hands into his pockets. An agitated gust of air leaves his lungs in the form of cloudy condensation amongst the snowfall. He walks up to the car, leaning down so he can glance inside without getting too close. Through the fogged window, he can make out the figure of a woman leaned against the steering wheel, her face casted by her hair hanging all around while she slumps her head against the wheel. Stupid—stupid girl. What the hell is she doing way out here?

He rasps against the window and she jolts just as Tommy comes up behind him, finally having left the comfort of the truck cab. “S’a girl, should have guessed.” Tommy interjects with a crude tone, thankfully before she rolls the window down. She looks a little scared and a lot embarrassed, her eyes are red like she’s been crying her heart out. It doesn’t make Joel sad, it makes him uncomfortable. Emotions make his skin crawl, make him uneasy. He doesn’t handle people crying well, he doesn’t know how to react to it, what he should say or do.

“You need someone to pull you out?” He asks, trying his best to sound mellow tempered and helpful. He’s not, but he won't be able to sleep tonight if he has to drive by the coroner unsticking her frozen body from the seats in the morning. “I’m so sorry—I was checking my phone because my mom texted me and I didn’t see the corner—“ stuck in the snow because she was on her fucking phone? “You hit a snow embankment because you were textin’? You dim or somethin’, girl?” She gives him a hard glance, eyebrows pulled together tightly. “I’m not dim, but I can tell you’re dense.”

Tommy scuffs from beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll grab the chain,” he tells his brother as he heads towards the truck. “I’m gonna pull you out, but after that you’re on your own, kid. This storm is just starin’, might be smart if you headed back to whatever city you blew in from.”

She’s the furthest thing from appreciative when Joel hooks a chain to the frame of her car and the hitch on the front of the old red chevy. When she gets out of the little blue car, Joel gets the full extent of how unprepared she is for a full on impending whiteout snowstorm. Her pants have rips and holes, like they are meant to be there, no way they are offering any kind of protection from the chill. Her boots have a three inch heel like she’s walking along some new york sidewalk with a tiny dog in her arms. She has a jacket, fur lining the hood and yet she’s still shaking like it all does nothing to protect her from the snow.

“Thank you for doing this, but I really could have called a tow truck or something. They probably would have been a lot nicer about it.” Her voice is dripping with disdain when he stands upright again. “You want nice, or you want to be dead? Because there ain’t no company sending a driver out here when were forecasted to get two feet overnight.”

She puts her hands on her hips in an attempted threatening manner, like that might scare Joel into an apology when she looks like an angry child who didn’t get their way. Joel hated people like this, too good for the world with their nose up in the air. He turns around to head back to the truck when he spots the piles of boxes in her back seat. Great—another fuckin’ know it all who think’s living out here is romantic and rustic. “You movin’ out here somewhere? You know there ain’t a mall for like, a hundred and fifty miles, right?”

She’s irritated now, with all the rude comments Joel is throwing her way—but he doesn’t care because the last thing this place needs is more city people thinking they can tame this untouched land. It shouldn’t bother him, because how long could she really last out here anyways? With those three inch heels and clothes fit for a concrete jungle, not muddy plains and cattle. She won't make it a month out here in the dead of winter.

“Just pull my car out, or leave me be, because the last thing I need right now is to get harassed by some old dumb fuck cowboy.” Dumb cowboy? Old? Like he’s the fucking moron out here in the middle of a blizzard in a car with bald ass tires and pants with holes in them. Maybe he should fucking leave, let her strand around trying to find a signal to call a tow company that wont come. “You know what?” Teach her a lesson, maybe then she’ll learn this place isn’t for people like her. With her done up hair and makeup—she’s pretty, unnaturally so—like she’s trying to damn hard to look that good—god damnit—“walk around in those stupid fucking shoes and see if you can find your own way out,” he leans down and undoes the hook under her car roughly. “Come on Tommy, were out of here.” She stomps her foot in the snow and starts to pace back to her car.

Joel makes his way back to the truck and unhooks the chain from the front. He’s had a long fucking day of taking care of his idiot bothers problems and he doesn’t have the patience to help some girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her.

“Hey, big brother.” It’s Tommy’s voice in his ears when he finally closes the door behind himself, huffing in discontent as he puts it in gear. “What.” He snaps, backing away from the stuck car and those sinfully tight jeans on that tight little—mother fucking son of a bitch, stop it!—he cant stand people like her, fucking with his head and getting under his skin. The type of girls who have looked him up and down and laughed in his face at the thought of someone like him being up to standard for someone like them. That snot nosed brat can sit in the snow, for all he cares.

“No need to get all hostile at me, man—I’m just checkin’ on ya. You’re all red and pissy, and nothin’ gets you all worked up like that.” He shrugs beside him with a cocky sort of snort. “I mean, unless—“ Joel jerks on the wheel and sneers over at his brother. “Drop it. Not another fucking word or I’ll leave you here too.”

Tommy’s jaw snaps shut and he looks out the passenger window, the radio playing quietly while the storm picks up, and the road carries on. Joel doesn’t think about what he’s done, only how his knee bounces and his hands flex the whole way back to the ranch. How his heart pounds and his blood rushes and it makes his head throb.

When they pull into the muddy drive, he shuts off the truck and turns towards his brother and the bouquet of flowers. “You really need to mean it when you talk to them, I’m serious. They are nice people who’ve looked out for us for two years. We owe them that, at least.” His little brother seems serious when he nods, so Joel passes him the flowers and heads inside. They have sacrificed so much to help Joel and Tommy. They’d been through dark winters with them, when they lost half the herd to the cold and Joel spent the night in the barn with what was left to make sure they all stayed upright and dry. They’ve all had empty bellies at night, didn’t have two nickels to rub together between the four of them and they’ve stood by each others sides through it. They’ve seen Tommy lose his shit a few times, too—so they know he’s capable of coming back from it. He just hopes this time wasn’t too far—Tommy had yelled at her for simply washing his clothes for him.

When the door to the big white farm house creaks open, Joel steps inside to the warm scent of roast in the oven and potatoes on the stove, Hank in his recliner with the newspaper in his hand and his reading glasses on while the game plays in the background. Hank was a large man, kind of chubby in the joyous kind of way, kind eyes and balding on the top. He laughs a lot, but he takes no shit while he’s at it.

“Kitchen,” Joel directs Tommy, who makes his way to the conjoining room where Louise was probably busy cooking dinner. Joel makes his way over to the couch across from Hank, who drops his paper and gives Joel a long look. “You talk to him?” He nods his head and glances down at his snowy boots. “He’s been real anxious all day. Storm comin’ in is messin’ with him and he knows it's no excuse to snap at anyone. He’s in there apologizin’.”

The older man nods at him and glances over his shoulder where Joel can barely see Tommy handing her the bouquet. “She was really shaken up over it, I hate seeing her so upset. She’s been excited all day and trying to make the house looks nice. I think it was just a misunderstanding, but don’t give him any excuse to yell at her like that.”

Joel twists his hands around and looks up at Hank who wears a solemn expression. “I know, I’m real sorry, Hank.”

The man across from him sigh, then offers a faint smile as he stands from his chair. “It’s alright. You boys are like family, families fight—it happens. Lets get some dinner, forget about all this mess, alright?” Joel is thankful for the reason to drop the conversation and stands with the older man as they head towards the kitchen. Louise and Tommy are talking quietly, smiling at each other until she reaches out and embraces him in a soft looking hug. It's an ease on Joel’s wound tight mind, thinking Tommy had finally thrown a wrench in the only good thing they’ve had in ten years.

Dinner is delicious, savory roast that he can dip soft bread in, let is soak up all the juice that he tries and fails to not get all over his beard. When his bowl is empty and his stomach feels distended, he leans back in his chair and sighs contently. “That was amazing, Miss Lou—I don’t know how you do it.” The smile she gives him isn’t like one of her usuals, it’s slightly saddened and disheartened when she looks across the table at him. For a moment, he worries that Tommy’s words are getting to her again. “Everythin’ okay?” He sits up a little in his chair.

“I'm a little worried. Our daughter was on her way home from college today, she’s finally graduated and she called me this morning to tell me she’d be home before supper, so I made her favorite.” She looks towards the window. “The storm is getting worse, I’m worried her little car wont make it,” Joel’s whole stomach lurches into his throat and he nearly throws up in his hands. “I told you we should have gotten her a truck, Hank, you know she’s not the best driver in snow.”

Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!—he’s such a fucking idiot. He knew she was coming home today, Lou has been talking about it for weeks, the impending return of the prodigy child, home with a degree to save the ranch—or whatever it is that she was doing. He’d heard them talk about her so many times, she was all brains and no know-how, Hank always talked about how clumsy and awkward she was, but how brilliant her mind was at the same time. He’d always questioned how uncoordinated she really was, based on the photos of her as a young woman roping in the rodeo. Fuck—he should have recognized her... “What’s her name again?” Tommy asks like he has no fucking clue Joel is losing his ever loving shit right now. They left her stranded on the side of the road in the middle of this damn snow storm. He hears Louise say her name but it doesn’t register because he feels like he’s on fire and drownings at the same time. “But everyone’s always called her Honey. Since she was a little little thing. She was always so ornery and stubborn until one day she got into a bee box and got covered in bee stings. Ever since that day she was so sweet, so we started calling her Honey.” Lou has this soft smile and all Joel can think about is how he’d told her to crawl back to whatever city she came from in her stupid fucking shoes. “She’s got a real mouth on her till something puts her straight.” Hank chuckles and Joel abruptly stands from his seat.

“I’m finished, I can go out and have a look incase she got stuck somewhere.” He slings on his jacket, but Tommy is still eating and doesn’t think much of it—dumb ass. “Are you sure? She’s probably fine, she knows better than to get caught out in these storms, she probably got a hotel in town.” Joel shakes his head at them and throws on his thick Carhartt jacket that Hank gave him his first winter here after watching him shiver in the fields. “I’m sure, it’s gettin’ bad, just gonna make sure she ain’t stuck somewhere.” Joel makes his way out the door quickly, grabbing the keys to the truck that they had given to him—“how are you supposed to manage a ranch if you don’t have a way to get around?”

He starts up the old chevy and it fires to life despite the snow coming down in heaps now. He’s worried about the road back to her car, about the probably eight inches lining the long driveway, but he throws it in four wheel drive and tries his damndest to get through it because despite all the things stacking up against him, his biggest worry is the police finding her frozen to death in the morning and her parents faces when they find out it was Joel who abandoned her there to die. God—he’s such a prick.

The road is slippery and tricky, a winding snow covered path along the hillside leading towards Jackson. It takes him twenty minutes in this blizzard to get there, all he can think about the entire time is the half freezing girl hiding in her car and the warm food in his belly that was meant for her. He stops the truck when he gets to the car, the lights are off and it looks abandoned—his gut lurches again, what if he’s already too late? Two hours have passed since he left her stranded and the sun has set now, real cold is creeping in.

He jumps out of the truck and walks up to the window. He can't see inside because the glass is fogged, so she has to be alive in there. He knocks on the window and the door jerks against the cold. “Hey,” he pulls the door open more, she’s sitting in the driver seat, pale and shaking with a small blanket pulled around her to keep in some warmth. The look she gives him could kill a man if he didn’t feel like he was already going to die the second she tells her parents that he left her there.

“Y-Your conscious f-finally get to y-you, asshole?” She’s absolutely shaking, her fingers look purple. “I’m so sorry—C’mon, it’s warm in the truck.” He reaches for her hand, but she snaps it away from him like he might burn her. “I c-can get o-out on my own.” She can and does, wobbles on her too tall heels and starts to head towards the running truck. Joel grabs the door for her and she sneers at him—yeah, yeah—he deserves that. He closes the door behind her and runs over to the other side. When he jumps in, she’s got her hands pressed against the heater while she relishes in the welcomed heat.

He pulls away from her trapped car, he’ll come back for it when the snow has cleared up a little bit, but for now—it’s too dangerous to try and yank it out just for it to get stuck in the road because it has no traction. It's ten agonizing minutes of silence while Joel taps his fingers against the steering wheel, trying his damndest to keep a close eye on the woman beside him. She’s warming herself up and thawing out that burning rage Joel knows is inside of her. When they get closer to the driveway, she starts to fire off. “You takin’ me to some backwoods shack to tie me up and keep me?” He scoffs and looks out the windshield, trying to keep the truck steady in the snow.

“If I was going to tie up and keep some girl, I’d make sure she was less bitchy.” She growls at him, growls lowly and it actually does the job, makes his skin prick in goosebumps while he drives. “Wouldn’t be so bitchy if you didn’t leave me on the side of the road. You know I could have died, right?” He is painfully, agonizingly aware of that fact. “I came back, didn’t I?” The driveway is in view, a long fenced path up to the old farm house. “How’d you know I was comin’ here?” Her voice is a tad quieter now, less abrasive on his ears.

“Cus’ I’m comin’ here too.” He says quietly, halfway hoping it won't reach her ears, but her mom was right—she is quick, smart too. “You’re Joel, aren’t you?” She laughs menacingly, crossing her arms across her body and her left leg over her right with a scoff. “You know, my parents said it was Tommy I wouldn’t like. Said you were this big southern gentlemen.” She laughs a little harder, looking over at Joel. “They were half worried they’d have to chase me out of your bed, that you were right up my alley. My daddy said you were the type to charm any woman’s pants off. Guess they don’t know you like they thought they do, huh? Under all that chivalrous facade is just another self centered, selfish cowboy.”

Joel shuts off the truck and glances over at her. “Look, I’m real sorry. First impressions aren’t my strong suit, got a thing for people who don’t belong out here. Didn’t know you were their kid. Would’ve pulled your car out if I’d known.” She opens the door of the cab and steps out into the snow. “So you’re only a good person when someone’s lookin’, I’ll keep that in mind, dickhead.”

She slams the door and storms off towards the house while Joel slumps against the wheel with his head in his hands. Fuck…if it’s not Tommy risking their welcome, their jobs, then it was him, making an absolute ass of himself in-front of the bosses daughter. The bosses fiery, too good—too good looking—

“Son of a bitch!”

—

He gets into the house ten minutes after she does, his hands stuffed in his pockets and half expecting her parents to kick him out right then and there. He pretty much told her to fuck off and left her to freeze to death. There’s no doubt in his mind that they would have found her dead in the morning, the temperature was below freezing already.

To his surprise, it's quiet when he gets inside. Hank and Louise are in the dining room with their daughter, laughing and smiling and surprised to see her, to see her with Joel. “And he just found you there?” She looks so…so..chipper standing there beside her dad with her arm on his shoulder while he sits at the table. “Yep, got my car stuck because I was texting, I know—not bright.” She sounds so fucking fake and dramatic in her tone, Joel’s hands flex and unflex. “And I couldn’t get out and find a signal because of my stupid fucking shoes. I probably would have died there if not for…good ol’ Joel.” She cocks her head with this shit eating grin on her face that makes Joel's gut clench up and his heart pound.

This fucking bitch—is she blackmailing him right now? In those stupid fucking pants and that top he’s finally getting a glimpse at—and then…shit…

Look at you…just—his brain is going haywire right now. He hates your fucking guts right about now but his brain makes other notes about your guts and its desire to be in them—and that tight ass shirt with your tits just pourin’ out of it—Jesus CHRIST, Joel, get it together here.

He shakes his head, bites the inside of his cheek and meets your eyes, everyone else is looking at you, but you’re looking at him, fully aware of the way his eyes just ate your body up for dessert until he was stuffed. “Real winner you guys have here, mom and dad…real winner.”

If there’s one thing Joel is certain of, it’s that he is in big, big fucking trouble.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #archive of our own #joel the last of us #joel tlou #rancher joel #joel miller moodboard #cowboy joel miller

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beardedjoel · 10 months

Text

closer | part twenty two - finale!

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: in this final chapter, you and joel reconnect and discover just how deep your feelings for each other run. 8.6 k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, cockwarming as the whole show, unprotected piv, sweet slow in love sex, dirty talk, praise kink a/n: I'M EMOTIONAL AS FUCK RIGHT NOW AND IDK WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. i love love love these two lovesick idiots so much, they've helped me grow as a writer and i'm so happy so many of you have loved reading this story also. as much as i've written it for myself i also wrote it for all of you who encouraged me along the way, so THANK YOU SO MUCH! i could never express just how thankful i am for how much love this story has gotten. i promise this won't be the very last of this reader and joel, i would love to do a small epilogue or drabble sometime soon as well. anyways this has been such a rant THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU and please enjoy this final chapter!

You bound down the stairs giddily, happy to take in the familiar sights of Joel’s house in the light of day. You had missed its cozy comforts, the way it had been a second home to you, how Joel had been home to you. You’re practically vibrating with happiness, the feeling warm and radiating from the middle of your chest outwards. You’re tingling with anticipation to see Joel again, even with the fact that you’d just spend the entire night next to him. You couldn’t wait to interact with him, look into his eyes, and give him a good morning kiss. It nearly felt surreal, like you weren’t sure if this could have ever happened again.

You hear the soft drone of the TV, and when you don’t see Joel in the kitchen, you make your way to the living room, where he’s seated, sprawled out on his cushy couch. His eyes look only half-focused on a sports channel, running highlights and going into detail on all the recent games, and you immediately tune it out. When you enter the room, Joel looks up and his eyes widen, his coffee halfway to his mouth. He finishes the sip, slurping purposefully and setting the mug down on the side table next to the couch with careful hands, not once taking his eyes off of you. You stand in the doorway, stark naked, not having bothered to even put on one of Joel’s shirts this morning.

“Isn’t that a sight,” he says quietly, one hand still wrapped tightly around the warm mug, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. His tone seems controlled, but you can tell this is having more of an effect on him than even you’d expected. You try to not wear too big of a smirk as you stand, inspecting him.

“Y’better be comin’ right over to this lap if you're gonna walk in here lookin’ like that.” He cocks his head, making purposeful, long movements of his eyes to roam over your entire body, stopping longer to admire your tits, nipples slightly erect already from the chill of the air and your anticipation for Joel this morning. You close the space between you, padding over to the couch, where Joel adjusts his legs, making room for you.. You stop short, drumming your fingers on the edge of the table where Joel’s mug sits.

“Coffee first,” you declare, turning to walk back over to the counter, making sure Joel has a clear, impeccable view of your ass as you go. Joel gets up to follow you, and you hear a distant groan, no mistaking that it’s his back still bothering him.

“Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” he asks impatiently, standing across the island in the kitchen, watching you. “My lap was ready for you, darlin’.”

You twist your lips to the side, purposefully ignoring him. “Now where were those mugs…” you mutter, reaching up on your tip-toes to look through cabinets, stretching your body out and offering an even better view of all your assets.

“You know damn well where those mugs are, sweetheart,” Joel growls out from across the room, arms folded in front of him. “Ignorin’ me… can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath, but still loud enough that you can make it out.

“Silly me, you’re right,” you reply airily, immediately opening the correct cabinet and getting a mug out before filling it with coffee. When you glance at Joel before opening the fridge, the look on his face is odd, unreadable.

“I, uh… still have the creamer. A new one. Stupid, I know. I bought a new one when the old one went bad. Jus’ in case…” Joel pulls his lips into his mouth and avoids your gaze for a moment.

Your heart beats harder for a few seconds, a hole opening in your chest that you feel like you might fall right through. It feels like your heart breaking in real time, realizing that all this time, Joel still cared so much, so fucking much. You clutch your chest, fingers brushing over your bare skin there, and give Joel the softest, warmest smile you can conjure up.

“Thank you,” you say, wanting to deliver it with sincerity and show the meaning that it has for you. Joel gives you a simple nod, knowing nothing more needs to be said about it, that you both understand what it means and what you both went through. You move along, pouring the creamer in your coffee and walking back to Joel, letting him guide you back with a rough hand on your lower back.

“Gonna jus’ ignore my questions, now?” Joel asks, in the half-teasing, half-irritated way that can only mean he’s brewing up all kinds of ways to punish you. He lowers himself back onto the couch with an equally loud groan, and you lift your brows, wondering if you should question him about it.

“You wouldn’t want me to be without my coffee, would you?” you ask, your voice syrupy sweet as it comes out of your mouth. You blink, fluttering your lashes for affect and Joel simply narrows his eyes at you, clearly not pleased with your teasing this early in the morning.

“How do you want me, then?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stand before him. Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at the question and he smirks wildly.

“You bad fuckin’ girl,” Joel tuts with a shake of his head, seeming to instantly forgive what transpired in the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit on down, put your back right here,” he says, patting his chest gently, clad in a classic Joel look of a faded sports tee. You do as he asks, climbing onto his lap with your back to him, scooting your ass all the way back until it’s flush with his torso. Joel’s arms go around you, his legs falling to the side slightly to make room for yours to dangle in between them.

You both sigh in contentment at the feeling of being close to each other on top of the sexual temptation you’ve quite literally just placed in Joel's lap. He reaches a hand to the side to grab his mug, bringing it to his lips over your shoulder. Once he takes a sip, he quickly nuzzles the side of your head.

“Y’sleep okay?”

“Better than I have in months,” you say with a breath of laughter, and Joel nods in agreement.

“Me too, darlin’. Wore each other out,” he says.

“So much pressure off of both our shoulders. I don’t know if you feel that too, but I do,” you tell him.

“Mhm. Feels like… all is right again, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nod, reaching for your own cup, precariously perching yourself to keep your balance on Joel’s lap, your ass rutting into his crotch a bit more. Joel groans quietly at the sensation, which you definitely don’t miss. You both went pretty hard last night, and you’re not sure what Joel will be feeling up for today if his back was any indication.

“How’s your back?” you ask, while the topic is on your mind. “Promise I won’t tease,” you add on lightheartedly.

Joel grumbles a little bit but then sighs in resignation. “I’m not in good shape here darlin’, if I’m honest. But hell, what’s a man to do when a pretty girl sits in his lap naked as the day she was born, but his back hurts? Be a fool not to take advantage of this,” he says, frustration cropping up in his tone. You realize Joel must be feeling touchy about his age these days, especially considering his birthday was yesterday.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you turn slightly and reach a hand over your shoulder to stroke Joel’s face gently. “I just want to spend time with you, whatever you want to do. I don’t want you to mess you back up even more.”

Joel finds it in him to grumble a bit more, but he places a kiss on your bare shoulder, murmuring a thank you into the skin. You two sit and drink your coffee in peace for a little while with the TV as background noise, but you feel the unmistakable bulge of Joel’s cock hardening underneath you as he absentmindedly runs his fingers along the soft skin of your thighs and arms.

“Hmm,” he mumbles quietly to himself, as if he’s trying to decide what to do - absolutely ravage you or keep his back from being completely fucked and sending him out of work for a few days.

“Joel… your back…” you say before he can even get any ideas.

“I know… I jus’...” he starts

“I have an idea,” you announce, cutting him off. “If you let me take care of you a little - get a heating pad, all of that stuff.l, I’ll sit right back here and let you do whatever you want to do to me. You’ll barely have to move. No pressure to do anything that’ll hurt you.”

Joel cocks an eyebrow, intrigued at your offer. “Y’shouldn’t have to take care of me like that…” he starts, and you immediately want to stop that train of thought before it derails completely and leaves him feeling bad about himself.

“Said I wanted to take care of you, so let me,” you say, and Joel starts to protest, but you cut in again. “How many times have you taken care of me, done so much for me? And for so much more than a day of nursing a bad back. Let me do this for you, Joel.”

Joel’s lips turn into a contemplative half-frown as he makes another thoughtful noise, and he then smiles a little. His fingers come up to touch your shoulder, tracing so gently along the skin that you get goosebumps immediately.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Joel asks gruffly, giving in.

You have him instruct you on where he keeps the heating pad, insisting you know he has to have one around along with icy hot patches, Advil, the entire works for someone like him who complains about his back often enough. He grumbles at how correct your guess is, hating that it makes him feel old and weak in front of you, but you’re quick to remind him the only reason his back is hurting today is from ravaging you within an inch of your life last night. That seems to satiate him well enough, a proud grin slapped across his face at the recollection.

“Yeah, yeah, all in that closet outside the bathroom down here,” he tells you. “Y’better not go putin’ on any clothes while you’re away.”

You laugh, putting your hands on your hips as you stand up in front of him. “Got a naked nurse fantasy, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs out a laugh, amused. “When it comes to you, darlin’, everything’s a fantasy f’me.”

“Smooth talker.” You give him a dramatic eye roll but feel your heart jump at his words. ”Okay, just sit back, I’ll be right back with everything,” you assure him, rushing to the closet and digging out all the supplies you think you’ll need.

You smile to yourself at the old, worn down heating pad Joel has, something that looks like it’s been passed down and gotten nearly too much use, the old blue and pink plaid pattern faded and tattered. You make a mental note to buy him a new one at some point, knowing Joel’s practical brain won’t allow him to purchase something brand new since “this one works just fine”.

You catch Joel struggling to sit back and get comfortable, a grimace on his face, and you frown. You’ve never really seen Joel in pain until now, and it’s harder than you’d thought it would be. You feel a sinking feeling, just wishing you could take this pain away from him immediately. At the least, you’ll do everything you can to help him feel better.

“Hey, let me help. Let’s get the heating pad behind you,” you tell him, rushing over and trying to get everything set up. “Take these,” you say, barely looking as you try to hand Joel a few Advil while plugging in the heating pad at the same time. He grabs the pills from your hand and swallows them dry, and you glare at him before handing him the water you’d set on the side table for him.

His eyes widen with guilt, and he takes several long gulps from the glass, trying to hide a groan that escapes with the effort of setting it back on the table.

“You’re in worse shape than I thought,” you say, frowning deeply, eyes full of concern.

“Stop your worryin’, meds and the heating pad’ll have me right as rain in no time, okay?” Joel assures you, letting you place the heating pad on the couch before easing him down onto it. He sighs deeply as he relaxes into the steadily growing warmth of it.

“There we go,” you say gently, giving him a smile.

“Now hold up your end of the deal, darlin’.” Joel’s eyes are expectant and mischievous - at the least you’re glad he seems to be feeling slightly better already.

You simply smile, biting your tongue from giving him some kind of snarky comment and sit back down, returning yourself to his lap, sitting yourself between his legs and resting back into him.

“All yours,” you say quietly, craning your neck back slightly to lean your head onto his shoulder. His lips gingerly touch the skin there, sucking right where your pulse comes through, and you moan, back arching slightly, but you’re careful to keep from putting too much weight on Joel’s hurting body right now.

“Wanna be my little plaything so bad don’t you?” Joel murmurs as his hands come to your chest, groping gently at your breasts, testing the weight in his palms before he squeezes them again, running his thumbs over both of your nipples simultaneously. You squirm, thighs rubbing together as the sensation from your nipples seems to go straight to your clit, sending it throbbing for him already.

Joel is gentle and calculated with his moves now, lips soft as they ghost along your neck and shoulders, thumbs barely brushing your hardened pink buds. You whine over and over, already feeling like you could reach your high if he keeps this up.

“Open those legs f’me, sweetheart, Joel says, hands on your thighs, softly nudging them apart. You spread your thighs slightly, but Joel tuts. “Wider than that, darlin’, all the way, please,” Joel asks, and his use of ‘please’ catches you off guard, but you find you kind of like it for a change of pace. You slide your thighs over top of Joel’s, settling so that your legs are now spread open over top of his, landing on either side of his thighs.

“Much better,” Joel coos in your ear before slowly sliding a hand down your front, tauntingly, teasingly making its way between your legs. You writhe, your breathing picking up when Joel slides a finger between your legs, groaning as the wet heat envelops it.

“So soft n perfect f’me already,” he says shakily, finger traveling up your seam, sending you shuddering as it passes your clit.

“Mmm,�� you moan out. “Feels so good when you play with me.”

“I know it does, baby, this lil’ hole is just weepin’ for me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, lewdly playing with your wetness, sending squelching sounds throughout the otherwise quiet room. “Needs to be stuffed full of me so bad, poor baby.”

You nod eagerly, breath coming out more staccato now as Joel teases you. He pushes two fingers inside of you, sliding them in effortlessly and beginning to pump in and out. You moan breathlessly, squirming on his lap as your slickness coats his fingers and starts to run down onto his hand. Joel lets out a pleased hum near your ear and you whine in response. He increases the pace, grunting quietly with the effort as you try not to writhe too much on him for fear of hurting him.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby, can’t take this. Need to fill you up,” Joel whines, his breath hot on your neck, movements becoming more erratic. “Feel so fuckin’ good, missed you too much, darlin’.”

You cry out as his fingers hook inside of you, a ‘come here’ motion that has your legs wobbling instantly as you shake on top of him. “M-missed you so much, Joel. Can’t get enough of you…” you breathe out, barely able to focus on anything but Joel’s thick fingers absolutely ruining you right now.

“W-wait. But you can’t hurt yourself,” you add on, coming to your senses for a moment, worried about his back. “I’ll take care of you, I’ll let you use my mouth.”

Joel sighs, his fingers grazing your g-spot and you whimper. His free hand slides up your belly to your chest, cupping one of your tits, using his hand there to press your back into his chest a little more.

“Can I just…” Joel says, a gruff and quiet voice coming out of him now. “Let me just put it in, I fuckin’ need this sweet little pussy wrapped around me.”

He pulls his fingers out so suddenly that you yelp quietly with the loss before he cups your needy cunt with his hand, pressing his palm down into you. You squirm a little, trying to get some friction from his rough skin on your clit.

“Fuckin’ ruin myself to feel my cock in here, but y’know that already,” Joel says, grunting as he squeezes you tighter, your nipple between his fingers being pulled taut.

“Joel…” you cry out, “I’ll sit on it, make it all better for you, promise.” You turn your head to try and meet his eyeline, going in for a long, deep kiss that he meets eagerly.

You lift your hips up, balancing yourself on either side of his thighs. “You won’t even have to move,” you assure him, “Just get to enjoy me.”

Joel’s hands wrap around your torso and his mouth presses to your back. “Always enjoy you, but I swear to God darlin’, I can barely move right now, got it? So no funny business here.”

“Right.” You nod a little too enthusiastically, further setting off Joel’s doubts that you won’t be able to just sit quietly on his cock. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“My good girl,” Joel murmurs into your skin, peppering it with kisses. “How’d I deserve this?”

“Hush now, and get your cock inside of me,” you retort, and you can practically feel the surprise radiating off of Joel from behind you at your demanding attitude.

He tuts quietly and blows out a breath. “Yes ma’am,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach in between your legs, where Joel’s hard length is only covered by his boxer briefs, and your fingers itch with need as you wrap your hand around the fabric hidden heat of him.

“Shit,” Joel hisses through his teeth at your touch, arching his hips up into it before groaning in pain.

“Shh, just relax, baby,” you tell him, stroking him several times before pulling the waistband down, letting his cock spring out - red and throbbing, dripping precum for you already and you salivate instantly at the beautiful sight.

“C’mon, now, sit pretty on this cock f’me,” Joel says, patting his lap impatiently. His cock juts up, immediately pressing against your slick folds when you lower yourself slightly, and you bite back a moan, lip pulled between your teeth. You position yourself over top of his bulbous head, just letting it touch your entrance and swirl your hips, letting your warm arousal start soak his tip.

Joel moans unashamedly right in your ear, hands now clenched around your hips, squeezing tightly as you tease him. You rub back and forth, gathering more of your slickness onto him, letting it drip down until you know he can barely take it anymore from his labored breathing and tensing muscles.

“Not - n-ot fuckin’ nice to tease,” he grits out, barely able to speak through clenched teeth.

“You’ll have to teach me a lesson when you’re feeling better.” You smirk, and sink down slowly so that you can feel each bit of him entering you. Your breathing hitches as you get more and more full, and you hear Joel let out a sigh of his own as your wet heat surrounds him.

Joel’s breathing comes out shaky as your hips press flush with his again, seating yourself completely on his cock. You never fail to be surprised at just how full he makes you - it makes you feel equally insane in the moments you have it and in the ones you don’t.

“Oh, darlin’... fuck,” Joel whines, and you grin wildly, loving the way you’re affecting him right now. You lean back slightly, relaxing onto his chest in pure bliss as Joel keeps you full, his cock throbbing inside your equally pulsating cunt. Joel’s head dips to your shoulder, resting there, and his stubble sends goosebumps across your skin.

“Feels nice, don’t it?” he asks, his voice continuing to shake. He’s trying to keep it together, and you’ve rarely had a chance to see Joel fall apart quite like this, and it’s absolutely beautiful. His body is trembling below you, breath uneven as it fans across your neck, and you swear you can feel every inch of his cock throbbing inside of you, so much more so now that you’re just still.

“I-it’s hard to keep still,” you say, biting the inside of your lip.

“I know, I know, me too,” Joel replies soothingly, his palm rubbing up and down your spread thigh. “Let’s just enjoy it, hm? Distract ourselves,” he suggests, trying to turn his attention to the TV. You nod a little, trying to shift slightly to get more comfortable, the movement jostling you just enough that Joel lets out a sharp hiss, and you suck in through your teeth in sync.

“S-sorry,” you choke out, biting your lip again, harder this time.

“No you ain’t,” Joel snarks, and you both chuckle softly, little movements of your bodies following with it and you both still immediately, eyes widening. A moan threatens to pass your lips as you feel a build up of pressure inside of yourself from Joel’s cock pressing on your walls, and you’re desperate for movement, desperate for friction in your clit as it throbs.

“Fuck…” Joel breathes, his hand trembling slightly as he continues rubbing your thigh. “You- you're so wet, darlin’, I-I can feel everythin’.”

Your arousal coats his cock, a seemingly endless slickness pouring onto his shaft, starting to want to leak out around him, and you’re only getting more turned on, more antsy to start moving and grinding your hips.

“Just focus on the TV, lemme enjoy ya,” Joel urges, and you take a deep breath, centering yourself despite the only thing you can feel being Joel inside of you, rock hard and wanting. You manage to glue your eyes to the screen, the droning voices of sports broadcasters reaching your ears, but you can’t hear a word they’re saying. You decide to close your eyes, continuing to rest back on Joel. A small whimper escapes you after a few minutes of trying to ignore the pressure inside of you, but Joel’s hands are all over your body, only making you ache deeper for him, a place deeper than he’s even filling right now that you aren’t sure how to reach. Joel’s own breathing has sped up, and you can feel him, warm and now damp with sweat, a wall of muscle behind you.

“Baby… fuck…” Joel says, fully panting now, “Makin’ me crazy, can feel your little hole flutterin’ f’me honey….” Joel pants for a few more moments, unable to catch his breath completely. “Oh you’re too good, baby, not gonna last like this.”

“Please, I wanna feel you come like this. I’ll feel everything.” You urge him on, your hips absolutely screaming at you to move, to do something. Your hand reaches behind you to his cheek, cupping it and scraping your fingertips along his beard. He buries his head in your shoulder, turning his lips towards your neck.

“I- shit,” Joel groans out, sweat coating his forehead, and you feel his hips twitch underneath you so you double down, pressing your body down into his, trying to give him as little room to move as possible.

“Just like this. Don’t move,” you assure him. You feel him nod into your shoulder, and a whimper passes through his lips that you’ve never heard before. You feel yourself clench around his length at the power trip you’re on, and Joel’s sounds become louder as you cunt tries to milk the orgasm out of him. Your own quiet moans intermix with his and you feel your walls squeeze him, a reminder of just how god damned full you are.

“You’re so big, feels so fucking good…” you murmur, letting your fingertips trail along your leg. You snake a hand between your thighs, letting your finger just rest on your clit, the pressure heavenly in its aching state. You squirm enough that Joel notices, and his hands fly to your hips in a death grip.

“Stop movin’, honey, fuck, please,” Joel begs, his panting, growling breaths stuttering out against your shoulders.

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you whimper, squirming a little more. You’re close too, you can feel it, the overstimulation of Joel’s cock just pressing in the same devastatingly perfect spots inside of you is starting to get to you, a steady build of pleasure swirling in your stomach.

“Come for me, Joel,” you whisper with a heady voice, turning your neck as much as you can to see his face.

He lets out a soft whimper that trails off into a little moan, and you feel it all - his hips bucking up slightly into you, trying to press deeper even though there’s no more room left to give, his warm ropes of cum spilling into you, coating you, marking you as his.

“Jesus,” you whisper, feeling your cunt clench around him as it tries to pull out everything he’s got. Joel breathes heavily against your back before flopping his head back with a satisfied sigh. You follow suit, resting back against him in exhaustion, and Joel winces and lets out a yelp.

“My back, baby, careful,” he cries out with a grunt, and you sit forward instantly.

“Shit, s-sorry.” You begin to lift your hips, Joel’s cock wet and heavy as it slides out of you, leaving you so much more empty than you’ve ever felt before. You could’ve lived just like that, full of him, held by him, for the rest of your days.

“‘M sorry, honey, should’ve been able to…” Joel starts, his cheeks flushed and forehead shining still, but you shush him.

“That was perfect,” you say, smiling brightly to reassure him. You sit next to Joel on the couch, letting one of your arms drape around his torso.

“Alright, that’s all you get today. Strictly resting the back from here on out, okay?” you say more sternly, rubbing his chest.

“Oh, yes ma’am,” Joel chuckles, and pauses for a beat, deep in thought. “Look at you, honey. Can’t even believe sometimes this is the same girl I met in June. Bossin’ me around, now.” Joel’s eyes flash mischievously at you.

“N-no, I just… I want you to feel good - feel better. Not bossing…” you stammer out, the sudden, unconventional compliment from him sending your mind scrambling and face going pink. You shrink down onto the couch slightly, feeling exposed.

“See she’s still in there,” Joel chuckles as you nervously fall apart in front of him, and you give him a shy smile reminiscent of the ones you had when you two first met. “‘S’okay, just givin’ you a hard time. I’ll be a good patient now.” Joel pinches your cheek quickly before letting out a long sigh, leaning back further into the couch and wincing slightly.

You spend the rest of the morning and afternoon coercing Joel into letting you take care of him, and by the evening, he’s complete putty in your hands. He’s fully accepted your care at this point - letting you remind him when to take the heating pad off again without any grumbling, throwing more Advil his way, reminding him to walk around every so often to keep the muscles moving. By the evening, when you offer to run out to pick up dinner for you two, Joel immediately protests with an uncharacteristic whine, swinging an arm around you to hold you down onto the couch.

“What if we jus’ ordered in, hm? Then y’don’t have to leave me,” he asks you, brown eyes going into full begging mode. Joel Miller giving you puppy dog eyes might just be your new favorite thing, you’ve decided, as you smile widely at the sight.

“Oh, you can’t look at me like that, then I’ll never leave,” you reply, tilting your head as you study this completely new expression on Joel’s face.

“That’s kinda the idea, sweetheart,” Joel says, smirking a little now, letting up on the absolutely soul crushing look he was giving you.

“Well it’s working,” you snip teasingly. “I’ll stay with you then, won’t leave for even a minute.”

“Good,” Joel sighs in relief and relaxes back onto the couch, a satisfied grin on his face.

Joel hardly lets go of you the entire night, arms wrapping around you in any way he can, always pulling you back into him. Even while you’re sleeping, you stir several times when he presses you close again, the heat of his broad chest radiating into your back. You realize that he’s still awake, a restless energy radiating off of him. Your eyes flutter open and you see his eyes cast down, studying you as you turn your head to look up at him.

“What is it?” you whisper hoarsely. “Your back?”

“No, no, that’s feelin’ much better. Jus’ lookin’, go back to sleep now, darlin’,” he replies, smoothing a hand down the side of your head. You raise an eyebrow but feel too half asleep still to pay him much mind or find a retort to tease him with. Instead, you find yourself turning in his arms to face him, burying your head in his chest, warm and steadily moving with his breaths. His dusting of salt and pepper hair tickles your skin just slightly, not enough to bother you, just enough to remind you exactly who you’re close to right now.

You suddenly feel restless as well despite your heavy eyes and the late hour, the image of the way Joel was just looking at you burned into your mind. Your heart lurches a little and peek your eyes open, yearning to catch him again as you tilt your head up to find his eyes meet you again in the dark of the room.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” you mumble accusingly from his chest.

You feel Joel shrug a little bit around you. “Jus’ cant right this minute. Feelin’ like… I could lose you.”

“Lose me… wh-“ you stutter, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes a few more times. “No, you aren’t. You won’t."

“Did it once,” Joel says solemnly.

“You never really lost me, though.”

Joel remains silent, his brow furrowed slightly, and you can see the deep set lines on his forehead through the little slivers of moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

“You know that, right?” you ask, and Joel’s continued silence answers it for you before he gives a small shake of his head.

“I was always yours… I knew I’d never get over it, even if I had moved on, I couldn’t move on from what you left me with, if that makes sense.”

“Suppose it does,” Joel says quietly.

“You’ve had…” you swallow, trying to push back tears that seem hellbent on escaping from your eyes. “A profound effect on me, Joel.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Joel responds, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Never would have moved on, either. Never…” he stumbles on the last few works, his mouth trying to work in as many kisses as he can on your hairline.

“So we’re really doing this, right Joel? We’re… us again?” you ask, seeming like the answer is already sitting in this conversation you’d just had, but needing to hear it anyways.

“As long as it’s what you’re wantin’, sweetheart. I was all in last night… still am. Been all in since you let me into your life again. This ain’t just a one time lapse in judgment or somethin’, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is the whole damn thing for me.”

You swallow heavily, a knot stuck in your throat at Joel’s words. “You are, too,” you whisper hoarsely, burying your head into his chest again. “The whole damn thing.”

“God…” Joel whispers, his voice cracking underneath the hoarseness of it. “Thank you,” he adds on in a murmur, and you’re not sure who he’s even thanking at this point, but you can just feel the relief sink into his body as he relaxes, melting into you.

After a while of laying in a comfortable silence, you finally start to doze off again, but Joel’s hand moves up your back to the back of your head, jostling you awake slightly. He’s sending loving strokes along your hair, his touch the most tender you’ve ever felt it somehow. It’s no softer physically than other ways he’s touched you, but the intention behind it shines through, flowing out of his fingertips and warming your skin. You can sense the thickness in the air, the way he’s looking at you with the care of still unspoken words, and you finally get the courage to blink sleepily up at him.

“Sweet girl…” he whispers, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes are too entranced, mind too busy with his thoughts of you to fully commit to it. You give him a bright, closed lip smile, feeling the corners of your eyes crinkle as you sigh into the way he’s still delicately sliding his hand along your hair.

He murmurs your name like a prayer on his lips and you know the next words out of his mouth, but you still buzz, the anticipation of watching his lips part in what feels like slow motion as you await the inevitable, world changing sounds that will fall from them.

“I love you.”

The words reach your ears in a kind of haze, as if they’re far away, quiet, and taking their sweet time to get to you. Your head suddenly spins, not realizing how deeply you’d needed to hear those words uttered from Joel’s tongue, and for how long. You’d known for months now you were madly, deeply, irrationally, infuriatingly in love with Joel Miller. It made you want to pull your own hair out some days, and others made you want to crawl as close as you could possibly get to him, to mold you into the same person, share the same skin. It was a sickening, panicked love - one you knew you could never live without unless you wanted a whole part of yourself to be missing. Rough but sweet, calloused but soft, all of the things that were you and Joel separately and you and Joel together. It hurt so badly that it started to feel good, to know you were loved by Joel.

“I -” you mumble, the surprising sting of tears behind your eyes instantly brimming and threatening to fall. You blink quickly and suck in your breath, an added pressure to a body that already feels close to bursting with the whirlwind of emotions you feel right now.

“I love you.”

Joel lets your return of his sentiment sink in for several quiet moments, simply him breathing heavily with his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed.

“I-I’m not always good with sayin’ things how I need them to come out, so… c-can I show you?” Joel says, voice low as he shifts his body to turn so he’s completely facing you.

“Show me?” Your heart picks up at his movement, the change in his tone, the tense air that surrounds the two of you.

“How much… I love you.” He pulls you flush, your warmth mingling with his, your bodies close to practically becoming the same person.

“J-joel…” you gasp out, feeling your lungs constrict and heart ready to burst out of your chest. He’s hard and soft everywhere, his muscles holding you tightly but lovingly - you’re so safe here, so beloved. His cock aches against you already, nothing separating the two of you since you’d both fallen asleep naked, the length of him pressing against your thigh.

“Can I?” he asks again, not impatiently, but simply that he’s desperate to give this to you, for you to know what he’s feeling.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding. “Show me.”

“So much… so much…” Joel’s words trail into a whisper as his lips meet yours, passionate but gentle, mouth immediately opening into yours. Long, sensual kisses as his tongue begs for entry and you permit it, nearly gasping at the way he feels right now - a tense control over himself, wanting to show you everything sweet he has in there, that his roughness can be loving, too. You can barely breathe, moaning into his mouth as your hips grind into nothing, seeking out more of him.

Your bodies meld together at once, his cock sliding between your legs as you both quickly solve the puzzle of the best way to interlock your bodies together, barely having to put any thought into it. It’s so natural with Joel, it always has been. Your hand slides under his neck and around to his back, leg thrown over his hip as he lays on his side, pulling you in closer.

He teases you only a few times, dragging his hard length through your slit with a few lazy thrusts of his hips to gather up your arousal. At your whimpering noises he pulls his mouth off of yours to gaze at you with a heady stare.

“Lemme look at you,” Joel says, his hand coming up cup your cheek, a sense of home right in his fingertips. You lean yourself into it, sighing as you look into the familiar sight of his eyes, pupils blown out with need, but there’s a delicacy there, a desire beyond his usual hunger. His fingers curl around the back of your head as they gently grasp your hair into his hand. His eyes search your face, bouncing around your features, and you’re unsure of what he’s looking for, what he’s thinking.

“Never looked more beautiful, baby,” he marvels, his voice a hoarse whisper as he slowly pulls his hips back and then pushes them forward, letting the head of his cock sit at your entrance for a moment before tentatively pushing in further. You gasp, clutching onto his back and digging your nails in at the slow, gorgeous stretch of him moving into you. You both breathe out shakily, a long sigh of relief at feeling the other’s body fitting so perfectly together.

Joel’s lips find yours again with slow, tender kisses as he starts to move his hips. Your entire body shudders at the unhurried movements of his cock dragging in and out of you, slow and messy. His lips lose some of their accuracy now too, catching the corners of your mouth, inching down to your jawline and neck as he buries himself in you. You’re both letting every sound you need leave your lips, little moans and whimpers filling the room accompanied by the noises your bodies are creating together as you get impossibly more wet, coating him, leaking around him and down onto both of your thighs.

“Jesus, Joel,” you whine, barely able to take just how heavenly it feels to be wholly his in this moment.

Your eyes flutter as your pussy clenches around him, the gentle thrusts making you absolutely wild. Joel was right - you can feel every morsel of his love like this - the way he’s pouring everything he has into you now.

“I’ll give y’everything, angel, make you so happy if you let me, oh f-fuck,” Joel stutters out, splaying his hand out on your lower back to help press you closer with each inward push he makes into your pussy. “Make you all mine, always, if y’let me, if y’want me to…” Joel sounds like he could nearly start to cry with the intensity of the moment, caught up in the way he’s expressing his emotions to you.

“Always, always… want you, Joel,” you whisper back as you pant with need, starting to feel a warm heat coiling in your core. “Forever,” you say without a care, not bothering to think about the heavy meaning of the word, knowing you mean it well past the heat of the moment you’re in right now. Knowing you’d say it to Joel again and again in the light of day, the heat of the night, and any time in between.

“Forever, angel.”

Joel’s thrusts gain speed, not much, but enough that both of you are edging closer to a climax by the second, the both of you panting promises to each other through all of the moans and whimpers. You’re both drenched in sweat, sloppy and wet all over, your bodies not offering an inch of space from the other as your lips clash over and over, barely even recognizing where any of your movements together begin and end. It’s pure perfection - beyond anything Joel has shown you before, reserved and only possible in a moment like this one.

Everywhere Joel presses inside of you starts to ignite, your entire body becoming desperately taut as you feel a warmth tingling throughout you, spreading from where Joel is hitting so perfectly.

“I’m gonna come, Joel, make me come, j-just like that,” you manage to say, your brain starting to go blank with thoughts of only Joel, only this pleasure.

“Oh, honey, so good, lemme feel you,” Joel encourages you, keeping the exact pace he was on to get you over the edge.

You cry out, long moans as everything snaps suddenly, and Joel’s arms wrap tightly around you, shielding you and pressing you into his chest as you shudder, your entire body overtaken by this pleasure.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl,” Joel chants, pressing himself as deep as he can repeatedly, helping you ride out your high. He watches your face intently, the way your eyes are screwed shut and mouth agape, gasping and moaning for him. His hand grips tightly around your face, dwarfing it underneath his long, thick fingers. “Love my good girl.”

His words send you whimpering in ecstasy as you feel seemingly never ending waves of your climax hitting you, your cunt fluttering and squeezing Joel’s cock over and over. Joel gasps and you can feel his body shaking against yours, urged on by the way yours is responding to him.

“Gonna come too… squeezin’ me so good like that…” Joel says, panting harder now. “Let me fill you up, get you full of me, baby.” Joel rambles on, his body purely concentrated on climaxing as he sloppily ruts his hips into you a few more times before burying himself to the hilt with a long grunt.

“Fill me up,” you whine as you feel him spilling into you, nearly wanting to come again at how good it feels to have him give himself to you like this. A final groan and then Joel collapses, his body rolling further into yours and you sigh out a sound of pure contentment, letting yourself press back into Joel. He kisses your face, peppering you with languid, lazy presses of his lips, and you can feel his mind is scrambled, elsewhere right now.

“D’you see? What you do to me?” he asks quietly in between kisses.

You nod into him. “Same as what you do to me.”

He gives an exhausted chuckle and you can feel the smile tug on his lips as they sit against your skin.

“I found your note,” you blurt out, unsure of where the thought even came from so suddenly. You feel Joel stiffen and then open your eyes to see the flash of recognition on Joel’s face and he softens even further.

“‘M glad you did,” he replies, his hand starting to stroke along your back. You feel goosebumps tickle you at his touch even with your skin still blazing and damp from the way he’d just fucked you. “Hate that y’read it at such a bad time, but I swear, meant every word of it.”

“I know you did. It… made me realize…” you say, trailing off into your own thoughts, remembering the mixed emotions of the day you’d read his words scrawled out for you, seeing on paper for the first time that he loves you.

“What, hm? Realize what?” he presses you, quiet and soft.

“It’ll always be you, Joel.”

He’d hardly let you out of his sight the entire week other than work, bringing you back home with him every night, and dropping you off to work in the morning. A man possessed, or re-possessed, you supposed, his hands finding you every chance they got - a commanding hand on your thigh the minute you got in his car, his grip tight around your waist the second the front door closed behind the two of you, lips finding any part of your skin he could see.

He was frenzied yet controlled, somehow always a paradox of some sort with Joel. His fear of experiencing the loss he’d felt when you two were apart was too much for him to bear, too painful to even consider possible again, so he kept pulling you close, “I love you”’s whispered in the most mundane of moments - you’d heard it countless times over the last week, always happy to return the words.

Now that you’d both said it, you were unstoppable. I love you I love you I love you. You think the words whenever you see him, a constant loop playing in the background of your mind. You speak the words when he catches your eye too long, falling like a mantra from your lips over and over, making sure he understands the truth of it all. You’re both desperately trying to make sure the other knows the depth of your obsession, your love, for each other.

You find yourself lost in your thoughts as you sit in the shade provided by the house’s shadow in the mid morning sun, feet tucked up under you on one of Joel’s cushy outdoor chairs. After practically keeping you at his house the entire week, today Joel insisted on mowing the lawn despite him complaining about his bad back the rest of the entire week. You’d done your best to keep him from overexerting himself, but if you’ve learned anything at all about Joel Miller, he’ll always be a stubborn man with a mind of his own.

You clutch the most recent book on your to-be-read list in your lap, your other hand on a warm mug of coffee. Joel’s made another pot of it, just because you yawned one too many times, insisting that you needed more caffeine if you were going to keep up with the plans he had for you later. You take a long sip, savoring the flavor, the coffee tasting better only because the man you love made it for you. You peer up from your book, the loud buzzing of the lawn mower breaking through your concentration again, and you’re met with a sight you’d gladly let steal your attention any day.

Joel’s white shirt is soaking through with sweat, an unseasonably warm autumn day that had prompted Joel to do yard work in the first place. He pauses mowing the lawn to lift his shirt up, wiping the gathering perspiration from his forehead quickly, and as he grips the lawn mower again, he catches you watching him. His face instantly lights up, a sweet little smile that he only shares with you, like a secret language you’re learning to read better each day. When his expression suddenly turns a bit more devious, he makes sure to wipe his face off once more for good measure, giving you a free show of his glistening torso. His eyes taunt you after, brows raised expectantly for a few moments, and you return the gesture with your own brows, letting Joel know exactly how you feel about what you’re seeing.

Something about the whole scene feels familiar, that odd sense of déjà vu creeping up on you and making the hairs on your neck stand up a little bit despite the heat in the air. You try to put your finger on it, and it’s not until your roaming gaze lingers across the fence, catching on the large oak tree in your parents back yard that it strikes you.

The way you used to lay right there and watch Joel do the exact thing you are right now, and relishing in the sight all the same. Trying to be inconspicuous, thinking he’d never notice the neighbor girl trying to catch a glimpse as he sweat and glistened under the hot sun. You’d let your mind wander as you watched him, questioning what things would be like if you’d ever get the courage to speak to him, if he’d ever even give you the time of day. Oh, how wrong you’d been, how completely wrong to think Joel couldn’t look at you that way.

You can’t help but marvel a bit at the memories, seeing where you are now, across that fence and having Joel go so far as to want you to watch him so blatantly now. Some things never change, but you realize that you surely have. You hardly recognize the girl you were back in June - so unsure of herself, wondering what she could be worth to anyone, let alone a man like Joel. But you now realized that while you’re certainly intent on keeping Joel around for… well, the rest of your life, at the least he’s left you with so much to carry on inside of yourself.

Joel catches your daydream-like expression as he finishes his mowing and approaches you. You now get a closer look at just how god damned handsome he is, and you feel lucky all over again, tears coming to your eyes unexpectedly. It nearly feels like a dream - the way the sun lights him up from behind, his broad form and muscles shining so delightfully, so pleasing to the eye. The way his face, every feature loved by you in its own special way, has already gone softer at seeing the tears in your eyes as he walks towards you.

Everything about this little moment in time feels indescribable to you, nostalgia and tender heartedness and love overflowing inside of you. You grasp onto your current reality and hold on tight, wanting to live inside this day over and over if you can, wanting this one truth to stay feeling perfectly clear to you - you’re simply… happy.

taglist: @paleidiot@mumma-moonchild@soph55 @chicville03@joelsversion@feliciab1990@fellinfromthetop@gossipgirl-03@sarap-77@blueseastorm @akah565@pattwtf @scarletthefierce

i'm so sorry if ur tag doesn't work, i really don't understand why tumblr does this ><

#i'll miss them so much #my emotional support couple for sure #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader

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graysnetwork · 7 months

Text

i was watching Gilmore girls at the beginning of the year i think and then i suddenly got the urge to watch again, so i'm finally on the last episode of season 2. Im completely in love with Tristan but at the moment i'm loving jess (i also searched up jess edits on tiktok and i've spoiled things for myself so i will be debating on skipping that one scene)

Also Ik this is not the best but I hope u guys like it

Warnings— none

Summary— Jess is turning into a great student and Luke not lorelai can think of a reason he’s become an amazing kid all of a sudden.

The library

Two full weeks, two full weeks had gone by now and no calls from the school had been made to Luke's phone. This was more concerning than actually getting calls from the school. And another notable thing was that Jess started leaving every day at the same time 6:30 and he'd come back home at 9:30 or even earlier.

Luke was getting suspicious but he didn't exactly know how to bring it up since it was very possible he was cheating on his tests, maybe copying off some one else for work. So he decided he'd mention it another day, and every time that decided day came by he'd put it off again, and again.

the two of them were in the diner, it was surprisingly very quiet, there was only one person which was also surprising and then the person walked out. Jess started cleaning up the table before checking his watch.

6:15

He dropped the towel and rushed upstairs, he came back down with a backpack, had he been hiding that thing?

"where are you goin?" Luke asked, finally looking up from the counter “somewhere.” “what do you have in there?” “some things” he shrugged and opened the door, before he could even get one foot out the door he could hear Luke’s heavy steps get closer to him, he turned around again.

“What do you have in there” Luke said again, “why do you wanna know, it’s nothing important” Jess rolled his eyes and checked his watch again.

6:20

“I’ve never even seen you come outside with a backpack, and I need to know if you’re stealing things again” Luke gave him an annoyed stare, Jess unzipped the the bag and showed the books in his backpacks.

“Oh” Luke muttered, and looked over to the side “happy? Cause I need to get going” he zipped the bag up again. “where have you been going?” Luke sighed, it was time he got the truth.

“why do you wanna know?” Jess rolled his eyes again, “because I gotta know these things” another sigh came out of Luke, and Jess mumbled something. It took a good few minutes to get him to admit.

“I’m goin to the library”

He said it quietly but at least it was coherent.

———

“You’re late” you smiled as Jess sat down in front of you, “I know, I’m sorry, Luke wouldn’t let me go until I told him where I was going and what I was bringing” he smiled back at you and took out his books. “well, you’re here now, that’s what matters to me, now what’s today? math?” You smiled again and the two of you started opening your books.

“Today is math day” jess nodded and started reading your math notes.

———

“Jess, in the library? Is he meeting behind it and doing something?” Lorelai drank her coffee, “I didn’t think about that” Luke said as he gave her a doughnut.

The moment very quickly ended when Jess came in and quickly went upstairs without saying a word, Luke and Lorelai could hear the thud from Jess’s backpack hitting the floor.

Jess came back down and grabbed a doughnut; pink icing. Very weird to the two adults in the diner. Unknowing to them the only reason he grabbed it was because you swore that the pink icing on the doughnuts taste different.

———

“So anything new and interesting happening?” You asked as you and Jess walked around after studying, it was the quickest you’ve ever studied but that was because it was English, all jess had to do was read and write some answers.

“no, but, if you call getting a new shipments for the diner interesting, than yes, there something new happening” he smiled at you, “sounds very interesting” you smiled back at him.

“what about you?” Jess turned to you again “what about me? Nothing” you shrugged “cmon there’s gotta be something that’s happened so far this week” Jess said, “there’s nothing, nothings happened, and im 100 percent sure nothings gonna happen” you smiled again at him.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and smiled “how about I give you something to look forward to then since you’re free” Jess’s brows perked up, “really? how?” your hand reached up and grabbed his that was on your shoulder.

“how bout you, me, and chinese food, and we can do it on, Friday? You said your parents are leaving on Friday right?” He smiled as you two got closer to Luke’s diner.

“yeah, my parents are going on Friday.. that sounds like a plan” you smiled “it’s a date” he smiled. “Cmon I’ll walk you home” he walked past the diner “thanks Jess” you wrapped your arm around his waist as the two of you continued you way down the street.

“Did I see that right?” Lorelai’s eyes were wide and her brows were furrowed, “wow” Luke said, it was the only thing that could be uttered at the moment as they had just seen; You and Jess walking together.

“That must be why he’s going to the library so much! y/n’s always at the library!” Her mouth hung open in shock, it was silent for a few moments “y’know what, this is good” like said as he nodded while drinking his coffee.

“This is good?” She looked at him confused, “yes, he’s doing good in school, and it seems like he really likes y/n, as long as he isn’t hurting her, or doing bad things than I’m happy about this” Luke smiled “I guess this is good..” Lorelai smiled back at him.

———

#imagines #x reader stories #fluff #jess mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagine #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x you

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lz-didyounotice · 4 months

Text

Baking weekends : The surprise

Those gifs do not belong to me.

Heyyyyy! How are you lots ? As promised, here comes another episode of the baking week ends ! This follows up the event of "An hymne to love", as well as the last espisode, "Kiss the cook".

Anyway... Hope you enjoy !

Froggit-

Warning : there's a lot of fluff, mention of making out in the tardis. English is not my first language.

--------------------------

The grocery store seemed to be way too full for a Saturday morning. Paying for the few articles you had in your basket, you got out, frantically searching for your car. There was so little time until the doctor and Clara came back from another of their adventures.

Driving as fast as the law allowed you, you pulled up to your small cottage, sprinting toward your house, paper bags in hand. Your coat was quickly put on a hanger as your shoes went flying in the entry.

Washing your hands conscientiously, you tried to get your plan straight one more time, making sure nothing was missing.

You had wanted to surprise the Doctor for a long while now. Back when Amy and Rorry were still traveling with you, a brilliant idea had come to you in the form of a red recipe book. The cover was old and titled with circles and other intricate designs you soon realized, was Gallifreyan. Having seen the notes the doctor tended to leave in the console room for repairs the Tardis needed, it was only ever so obvious.

For the sake of this recipe, you had to go to small markets while on another planet, wanting to find every single ingredient of what the doctor had stated to be his favorite dessert back home. Finally opening the book, you couldn’t help yourself, and shed a tear as you saw the numerous yellow sticky notes on every page, annotations left by Donna, your previous self older sister.

"How can I be sure he ain't as rotten as the last one?"

Donna was upset to be keeped from such an important part of your life. If you were honest, you were sad to not be able to share it, but it was either that or losing her once more.

On that day, you had asked for her help, but she wanted to know more about that brilliant

stranger you said changed you in better ways.

"Do you reckon I would be baking for him if he weren't important?"

"Cor blimey, you two had been goin’ out for bleedin’ three years, and I still never met the bloke!"

“I told you he traveled an awful lot.” you let out passing by the radio and changing the station.

“Just spill it if he's scared of meeting mom.” She let out with a small laugh. You could only do the same, bumping her with your hip as you did so.

You missed her dearly, her and her sassy comebacks. Since your new “Regeneration” you haven't been able to see her. What would she even say ? She didn’t know this version of you, you didn’t even look the same, and putting her life at risk would be irresponsible. You had just hopped that may be one day you would meet her once more.

Putting up some energetic music, you wore your apron and got to work, sleeves put up to the elbow. The adventure only truly started now, something you waited so long to put up.

--------------------------

The doctor and Clara had been off all day, the brunette insisting on going a little longer, still waiting for your signal. The timelord was starting to be suspicious of Claras behavior, wondering what got his companion so energized for such a long adventure, he even was starting to wonder if she wasn’t a clone trying to keep him from earth longer than normal.

But like the over-excited traveler he was, he couldn’t put down the offer, for all he knew, he was expected back at your cottage by the end of afternoon. Today was a busy day for you, and even if he wanted to have taken you with them, you insisted for them to spend some time together. It saddened him of course, none the less he understood today wasn’t a good day to go off with her.

Right now, the doctor was admiring a beautiful fez he had found within the small shop he and Clara came across, visiting a brand new planet. Soon enough he felt his shoulder being tapped on by the said girl, a tired smile visibly drawing itself on her lips. Asking the doctor to take her home, Clara had just closed her phone, saving it in her back pocket.

After buying the fez, he seemed proud as he pushed the levers on the console. Rocking his new hat, Clara only could wonder if he would ever come across one without having to put it on. Even if she didn’t dream of seeing him less happy, she wanted the surprise that awaited him back home would light him up even brighter.

With the Brunette back at her apartment, the doctor had no patience in waiting some more and launched the Tardis. Soon, his foot touched the vast landing of grass, still illuminated as the sun slowly hid behind the clouds.

Without any hesitation, his hand found the ringing bell of the small cottage, his heart pounding harder and harder as the seconds got by.

Passing your head by the now unlocked window, the doctor seemed to ignite, happy to finally be back. “Darling, the door is open! Come on in!” Your hair was a mess, your glasses hanging from around your neck, beautifully portrayed by the light of the setting sun highlighting your figure. Smiling at you, the doctor entered the house, coming practically 10 seconds later face to face with you. “Well, welcome home Sweetheart”.

--------------------------

“I told you to not cheat! close those beautiful eyes before I smack you.”

The doctor was too curious to wait for the surprise you had put up for him. And right now, all he wanted was to take a tiny peak. But knowing how serious you could be about those things, he didn’t jocked around long before closing his eyes.

Soon you entered the room, a beautiful cake in your hands. Its sunny color, outshining the yellow of your apron. Slowing placing the cake before the Doctor. You gently brushed his shoulder. “Doctor, you can open them… ”

Finally letting go of his face, the man thought he was dreaming. Before him stood something that was supposed to be long gone, never to be seen again. And as he admired the wonderful pâtisserie, he couldn’t help but notice it wasn't just any Gallifreyan cake; it was a homemade one.

Both his hearts skipped a beat as he realized the significance of the gesture. Turning to his wife with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, he couldn't help but smile.

"Did you...?" he started, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You couldn’t help but beamed with pride when you saw the love in his eyes. "Yes, Doctor. I thought since you couldn't go back to Gallifrey yet, I'd bring a little piece of it to you."

The Doctor's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at the cake, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of your gesture. At this moment, all he could think of was how much he loved you, and how much you meant.

Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, the Doctor rose from his chair, wrapping both arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck, trying to hide his tears as they got out of control. Pulling you into a tight yet comforting hug, all he could muster was a soft “Thank you” thick with all the love he could let out. "This... means more to me than you could ever know."

Your hand was now passing on his back, soothing him as much as you could. Your other tangled itself with his soft hair as you stood there for another minute. You never wanted this embrace to end. But as you pulled slightly away, you could only see how much the doctor truly meant every word.

With a gentle smile, you reached down, your hand slowly cradling his cheek as you leaned in softly, closing the distance between them. Your breath mingled, warm yet sweet as your lips brushed together in a soft yet passionate kiss. But as you parted, the doctor only tried to reach for your lips, making you snort softly at the surprised look on his face.

“I do believe we still have to taste the cake, now don’t we?”

“I- … yes”

“We will continue… this after…-”

--------------------------

And to say you had outdone yourself was an understatement. You would have expected it to taste funny with the numerous strange ingredients you had to add. It was heavenly, and by the doctor's face, you could only tell he was enjoying every second of it.

“Is it any good ?” Serving yourself another portion.

"Blimey, love! This... this is fantastic! Haven't had a nibble like this in eons... It's not just good, it's utterly brilliant! Delicious doesn't even begin to describe it!" He answered, still trying to shove more cake in his mouth.

Your cheeks flared up, genuinely happy, and proud you had done such good work. In the beginning, you feared it wouldn’t have the same taste as the one that existed back home, and you felt relieved that the doctor could recognize a fond memory in it.

--------------------------

It was safe to say, the cake did not survive long enough. You and the doctor, now cuddling in the softness of the Tardis covers.

After the cake had been devoured, you had to have a turn. The thankful kisses you gave one another, turned into a heated session of making out against the tardis console, his fingerprints still lingering on your inner thighs. And just like that it was you and him against the world once more.

His fingers passed through your short ginger hair as a comfortable silence installed itself. You looked up at him and could tell he had some questions about the whole surprise.

“You have a lot of questions don’t you ?”

“I always do…”

“Ask away then, I know you’re curious.”

Shifting slightly closer, the doctor leaned onto his elbow, making his face right above you. “How long did this take you ?”

Your hand reaching out for his jaw, you pulled a small but sad grin. “I started trying back when Amy was still traveling with us. Unfortunately, I died shortly after so… been planning longer than our wedding. ”

The doctor laughed slightly with you, remembering the chaotic moment. “And the recipe? Where did you find it? The Tardis database is still written in Gallifreyan as far as I’m aware of- ”

“No such trouble when you have learned to read it.”

“What..?”

“Why so surprised? Did you think I would traverse the universe for eons and not try to embrace your culture? What sort of wife would I be ?”

And just when he thought he couldn’t love you more, he did. His hearts swelled with pride as he looked into your eyes. Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead, brushing away some strands of hair still in the way.

“You truly are remarkable (Y/N).....”

“It goes both ways my Bowtie maniac.”

And as the sun rose again on the Tardis, the two lovers intertwined once more, laying one against another as close as you could, afraid time might slip by and take you both apart.

You couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome.

--------------------------

Bonus :

“I knew Clara was up to something!” Complained the time lord only now realizing why his companion was so indecisive about where to land.

“Only figured now she had to keep you busy while I was baking?”

“That’s an awful trickery-”

“As far as I’m aware, if you hadn't been off, you wouldn’t have this wonderful fez of yours, now would you ?” Turning around him you swiftly took the red hat off his head, putting it on your own.

“Oi, mine-” He quickly tried to retrieve it, but knowing you it could be easy or involve a lot of running.

Dodging his hand, you took the opportunity to run off in the Tardis corridors singing “Nope, mine now!” as you ran across the control room.

“(Y/N)! ” The doctor was slightly panicked but it was just a matter of time before all of it evolved into laughter.

#11th doctor x reader!oc #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who x imortal reader #eleventh doctor x reader #noble family x reader #reader Oc #fluff

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agaypanic · 5 months

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Hey :) I was wondering if since it’s a leap year you would maybe write a oneshot or blurb or smth with James Maguire x reader (maybe like Quinn!reader from your series??) where she proposes on the 29th of February bc it’s a tradition that comes from Ireland?? I just think it would be so cute bc he just totally wouldn’t see it coming and I’ve never seen anyone do it in a fic before

Leap Day (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You, the girls, and James are now well into your twenties. Life is perfect, except for one little thing that’s been on your mind. After taking with your friends about it, you figure you should take matters into your own hands.

A/N: won’t put it on my series masterlist, but this could be seen as an epilogue of sorts to the fella series (even tho it’s not finished yet lol) but obvi it can be read as its own thing. Also im american so sorry for any terminology and such i get wrong. reader, james, and the girls are obvi aged up

***

If you had told your younger self that you and your friends ended up staying in Derry after finishing school, she would’ve thought you lost your mind. All she thought about was graduating and leaving home, traveling the world, and escaping her pain-in-the-ass sister Erin and somewhat crazy family.

But if she saw the life you had now, she’d probably understand. Because you had everything you truly wanted.

You had a nice little job close to your flat where you managed a bookstore. It was a quaint shop that became a frequent stop for some of the local teenagers. Erin also stopped by every now and then to boast about what she had already read.

When you weren’t working, you were with your friends. You were a bit more tame than you were in your adolescence, but that all usually went out the window when Michelle got a drink or two in her. Which happened often.

But the best part of your day was when you’d go home to see your boyfriend of many years, the love of your life, James Maguire.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him, anyway?” Michelle asked as she messily poured everyone a glass of wine. Every now and then, you and the girls got together for a night to get drunk and catch each other up on anything that happened since the last time you’d gotten together. For some reason, you and James were a bit of a hot topic tonight.

“What d’ya mean, Michelle? You know what’s going on with us.” You laughed, taking your wine glass from her.

“I mean, when are the two of you getting hitched? Has he even popped the question to ya?”

“Believe me, Michelle, you’d all be the first to know if we got engaged.” You said a bit glumly, downing your drink and waving your glass around for Michelle’s attention to fill it again.

“He still hasn’t asked you?” Clare asked with an incredulous look. From the start, she had been a big supporter of your and James’ relationship. If it was up to her, you’d probably have a few kids and a house in the countryside by now. “You’ve been going out since we were sixteen! And you just turned twenty-five a few months ago, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You responded, popping the ‘p.’ “Nine years and no ring.” You held your bare hand up to prove your point. “But I don’t mind too much. As long as we’re together, that’s really what matters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Clare cooed.

“It’s shit.” Michelle countered.

“Michelle’s right, Y/n,” Erin said, grabbing a crisp from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You’ve been waiting for James to propose since we finished at Our Lady Immaculate; admit it.”

“Have not!” You laughed at the absurdity of your sister’s sentence, but the looks everyone gave you made it die down. “Okay, maybe a little. But not seriously! It was just like a dream, you know? Like Erin thinking she’ll get published or Granda thinking Ma will actually divorce Daddy.”

Everyone giggled, except for Erin, who was grumbling about your little jab.

“Be serious, Y/n!” Clare laughed, patting your hand. “You’ve been waiting for him to ask for a long while.”

You looked down at your glass, swirling the wine around with a sigh.

“Maybe a bit.” You answered quietly. It hadn’t really nagged at you too much until recently. After all, you had been together for almost a decade, and everyone else around you seemed to be getting engaged or married. You loved James; truly, you did. But it felt like you were missing out a little. “But I’m fine with waiting.”

“The question is, Y/n, how long are you gonna have to wait until he actually does it?” Erin asked, leaning forward to stare at you. You shrugged, not really knowing the answer and not really wanting to respond.

“You might as well ask him, Y/n!” Your cousin Orla said with a grin. She was always an optimist. “He might just be scared you’ll say no!”

“You know, now that you say it, that’s probably why he hasn’t asked yet,” Michelle said, taking a sip from her wine glass that had been filled more graciously than anyone else’s. “After all, James is a pussy.”

“Don’t call my fella a pussy, Michelle!” You reprimanded, yet you still laughed along with everyone else.

“I can call my cousin what I want. And the fact is that he’s a pussy!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, really,” Clare said when everyone’s chuckles had died down. She gasped. “This is a leap year! You could ask him on the twenty-ninth!”

“That’s next week, Clare.” You said a bit nervously. Of course, you’d marry James in a heartbeat. But the thought of proposing, especially so soon, made you a bit sick to the stomach. Now you realize why James probably hasn’t asked you yet.

“It’s either next week or another four years, Y/n,” Michelle said with a teasing smile.

You gulped, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. As you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t really a bad idea. Sure, you had less than an ideal amount of time to plan everything out. But you could probably get something small but nice together.

“Okay… Who’s going ring shopping with me?” The girls squealed at your question, getting up to surround you in a drunken group hug.

***

It was the twenty-ninth, and you were a nervous wreck. The ring weighed heavy in your pocket as you paced around your dining room. Dinner was sitting waiting on the table, and you were playing your little speech of love over and over in your head. All you needed was James, who should be home soon. But as the minutes ticked by, you wished the clock would freeze so you could have more time to prepare for this.

“Darling, I’m home!” James called out as he opened the door, and you realized you were out of time. You skipped out to the front hall to greet your boyfriend.

“Hi, Jamie.” You cooed, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping away so he could hang up his coat.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, needed to finish some things at the office.”

“Oh, that’s okay, hun.” You waved your hands, both to dismiss his unneeded apology and to get rid of some nervous energy.

James gave you a quick peck before walking off to the bedroom to change, leaving you to overthink a bit more. You wanted tonight to be perfect. James deserved nothing less than that.

To pass the time, you grabbed a candle and placed it in the middle of the small table, finding a lighter to light the wick.

“It’s so nice to be home,” James murmured as he walked over to you, arms slinking around you to pull you close to his chest. He buried his face into your neck, leaving a kiss or two before taking a deep breath. “Dinner smells good.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. The two of you sat down and started putting food on your plates.

You talked about anything and everything, James leading most of the conversation, which you were grateful for. You felt that if you had to talk too much, you’d either stutter too much or end up spoiling your surprise. James held your hand most of the time, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as he talked about something amusing that happened at work.

Eventually, your plates were clear and your cups were empty. James was finishing up a story about something a few of his lads had done while they were all watching some sports game you didn’t know much about. You knew that now was your time.

“Jamie?” He hummed, perking up at the sound of his name.

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.” You didn’t really know how else to start.

“I love you, too, N/n,” James said, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

You took a deep breath, about to give the speech that you’d been preparing in your head.

“I’ve known that you were the one for me since we were fifth years. Probably since I first saw you at the bus stop. That’s probably crazy, knowing something like that so early and so young… But it’s true.” You laughed, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “These have been the best years of my life, being with you. And it might be a bit selfish of me, but I want more of them.”

“Y/n…” James whispered, tilting his head. “What are you saying, darling?”

“We have a bit of a tradition here.” You say, wiggling your hand from James’ grasp and standing up. “Ladies’ Privilege, Bachelor’s Day, whatever you fancy calling it. Where on Leap Day, girls can propose to their fella.” You stuck your hand in your pocket, fiddling with the ring. “And seeing how it’s Leap Day now, and I have a ring and all, I guess there’s just one last thing to ask.”

James’ expression turned even more stunned when you got down on one knee, now holding the silver band up in front of him.

“Will you marry me, Jamie?”

In the few seconds of silence after that question, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. He looked at you stunned, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind. How long would you have to kneel on the ground for him to give you an answer?

But then he smiled brightly, and all your worry slipped away.

“Of course, I’ll marry you!” James slipped out of his chair to join you on the floor and grabbed your face, giving you a long and deep kiss. You gripped his curls in your free hand, the other resting on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he let out an airy laugh. “I never thought I’d be the one being proposed to.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You giggled with him as you slipped the band onto his ring finger. “Happy Leap Day.”

“Happy Leap Day, indeed,” James said before kissing you again.

#agaypanic #james maguire #james maguire x reader #derry girls #derry girls x reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

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hey!! i love your fics so much. i was wondering if you could do a fic starting with loads of angst where daryl x reader are fighting when all of a sudden she drops the bombshell she’s pregnant. results in loads of fluff :) ♥️

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 9/pre-whisperers

― summary: if it was any other time, you wouldn't have cared that daryl was constantly away, but now that you needed him, it seemed as though he was constantly out of your reach.

― warnings: arguing, angst, pregnancy, hurt comfort, emotional hurt comfort, the ups and downs of pregnancy.

― wc: 1217

⋆ a/n: this was a touching write, and honestly, i had a blast with writing the angst. i know i know, call me a heathen, but there's only so much fluff and smut i can write before i wanna write some angst too. never fear, there is fluff in here!

masterlist | AO3

You don’t remember the last time you and Daryl were in the same room together, let alone romantically. You knew he was busy with helping and restoring the communities after the war with the Saviors. Even though it had been a long time since then, there was still a lot that there was left to do due to Rick’s determination, and with Daryl being his right-hand man, he was gone for hours, weeks, or even days at a time. You wouldn’t have been as bothered by the distance if you didn’t miss him, and you didn’t have some big news breathing down your neck.

With it having been a while since you and your boyfriend had been intimate with one another, you knew you were about two or three months along, at least that’s what Siddiq had said. Every day you were forced to watch him go outside the walls and risk his life, and it made you grow anxious. You were a big ball of hormones, unable to figure out how to navigate these new emotions without lashing out.

You were sensitive and pretty much cried at any minor inconvenience; your sense of smell was all weird, your body constantly ached, and you had to pee… a lot. It was like hell, and you couldn’t help but take it out on your poor unsuspecting boyfriend. You felt bad that you hadn’t told him that you were pregnant yet, but he was never around long enough for you to find the right time to do so.

Yesterday had been one of the days where Daryl had finally come home for the night, cuddling up with you in bed. It was like his presence had been able to soothe you throughout this emotional rollercoaster, your body strangely corresponding to his. When it was time to get up, he was already dressed and ready to go, but you longed for more.

“Why can’t you just stay home today?” You asked as you followed him down the stairs and to the door.

“I already told ya, Rick needs me.” He explained as if it was obvious. “What if I need you?” You asked, your shoulders slumping as you shrunk into yourself. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones, but your voice broke, tears beginning to burn at the back of your eyes. “Yer strong, you don’ need me.” He approached you so that he could place a kiss on your forehead, but you avoided it by backing away from him.

“Go,” You said quietly, “He needs you.”

You didn’t say another word as you descended back up the stairs once more, the feeling of his gaze burning holes into your back until you were out of his sight where he now stood at the foot of the stairs. You didn’t allow yourself to cry until you heard the front door slam shut, harder than he should have. You had never felt more alone despite being surrounded by your friends and family.

It wouldn’t be until two days later that he would come home, and he looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes were darker, his wrinkles more prominent as he frowned at you. You were busy getting ready to visit Siddiq for an ultrasound. You remained quiet until he asked, “Where are ya goin’?” You just shrugged. “To see Siddiq.” You were fruitlessly trying to button up your jeans to no avail. You were already frustrated, and his constant questioning was only making you angrier.

“Why? Are ya hurt?” You and Siddiq were friends, but not really the type to hangout one-on-one, and with him being a doctor, it was only apparent that you may have some sort of illness. “No, Daryl. I’m fine. It’s just a checkup.” When your eyes met in the full-length mirror you were getting dressed in front of, you could see that he didn’t believe you. “So ya do feel sick.” He concluded on his own. “Daryl, please, enough with the questionnaire, okay?” You sighed, settling on just zipping up your fly and pulling down your shirt to cover the fact that you couldn’t button them up. “Not until ya tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you even care anyways? Don’t you have something to build or scout or find or whatever the fuck it is you do when you leave for days on end.” It was then that Daryl had finally understood. “Is this what this is all about?” He asked in exasperation. “Were bulildin’ somethin’ here. I can’t be around ya all the time ‘cause I’m too busy tryna make this place safe for ya!” This is the least understanding you had ever been throughout your relationship, and you hated yourself for it, but it was as if all your thoughts were turning against you. “I don’t need you to be around me all the time! All I need to know is that I can rely on you for when…” You instantly stopped what you were going to say, allowing the volume of your voice to die out.

“For when what?”

“For when the baby comes.”

A beat of silence.

“Wha’?” Was all that Daryl could muster up. “I’m pregnant, Daryl. I’m pregnant and I’m going to see Siddiq so that I can get an ultrasound. There, are you happy?” You asked in defeat.

He approached you cautiously, like he was afraid that he would scare you if he were to move too fast.

“How long have ya known?” His voice level matched yours, a quiet and defeated as he took your hand in his. “Almost a month.” You confessed shamefully. “And ya didn’ tell me?” You shook your head, your grip on him tightening as he tugged you into his arms. “I wanted to, but you were never home, and I didn’t just want to drop it on you so I… I don’t know.” You had begun to tear up before full blown sobbing into his chest. “Everything about me has been so out of whack, and- and I have to pee a lot and everything smells so weird and I cry all the time and I get angry for no reason…” Daryl shushed your babbling, gently swaying you in order to try and calm you down.

“I got ya sunshine. Ya ain’ alone no more.”

You didn’t know that’s what you needed to hear until you did, and it was as if they caused your body to go lax in his hold. “Can I- can I come with ya to this ultrasound thing?” You let out an airy laugh, nodding against his chest. “Of course, you can, D.”

Seeing your baby for the first time was surreal, and with Daryl by your side, you could tell that he was still trying to wrap his head around this whole situation too.

“One more month then you’ll be able to tell what gender it is.” Siddiq said with a satisfied smile on his face, helping you wipe the lubricant off your stomach. “What do you think it’s going to be?” You turned your head to ask. Daryl was sat next to you, his hand still holding yours as Siddiq went to go and print out your ultrasound pictures. “I don’ care, I’ll love ‘em either way.”

“I know you will.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s

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pedges · 1 year

Text

the one where things are messy

pairing: joel miller x reader (no apocalypse and accidentally on purpose gender neutral)

summary: you leave joel a drunk voicemail.

content: drunk reader. like, drunk. miscommunications, angst, but mostly just a silly little time. reader is joel's neighbor of several years. gratuitous use of the word "fuck." let me know if i've missed anything!

a/n: this is 100% based off friends the tv show. the one where ross finds out. i have not written in a very long time, so i apologize in advance! this is just a nonsensical drabble that ended up being 5k words, so please enjoy <3

The thing is, Joel doesn’t like cats.

Joel doesn’t hate cats, but he has never expressed any sign of liking cats, at least not enough to warrant the sudden desire to adopt one. With his girlfriend. Who he plans on asking to move in with him. When he tells you, it’s like he just ordered an airstrike to your chest, and you’re thinking maybe you should have slashed his tires before he went to Dallas on business for two weeks and came back with a sweet little thing shacked up in his heart.

It’s just that when Tommy and you got drunk together a few days after he left, sitting on the couch in Joel’s living room while Tommy played world’s worst babysitter, he had dropped the first of what now seems to be a series of inconvenient bombshells.

“Don’t get rom-coms, they’re real fuckin’ dumb,” he had been saying, adamantly complaining about your choice of movie. When Harry Met Sally was too cute and too good to receive his vitriol, but the alcohol in your system tore down your usual defense mechanisms. All you could really do was roll your eyes. “Just fuckin’ talk to each other, maybe, maybe this shit wouldn’t take so long.”

“The hell do you know about communicating, Tommy?” you said, and though you were mostly teasing, you had to bite back a remark about his past relationships never making it past the six month mark. Still, you kept the levity in your voice, the drunken grin on your lips. “Swear, you and Joel think you know everything. Must be an annoying Miller thing.”

“Know more than you,” he said with a scoff, then a hiccup. Taking the last swig of his beer, he set the empty bottle down on the coffee table and looked at you. “Way fuckin’ more than Joel. M’like—the fuck is the word—ret-i-cant. Always watchin’. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Reticent, and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull,” Tommy insisted. “Cause—‘cause I know if Harry and Sally just admitted shit from the getgo—they’da saved so much fuckin’ time.”

You wanted to argue. You want to tell him that was the point of the story, of the insistence for two people who very clearly wanted each other being brought back together each time they tried to stay away from one another. You wanted to tell Tommy that sometimes difficult things were beautiful, and romantic, and heartfelt, and great. But before you could, he was grumbling something as he sank into the couch, something that sounded like, “S’like I kept tellin’ Joel, tired of him tiptoein’ ‘round you.”

“What?” you said in lieu of everything else running through your quickly sobering mind.

“Ah, shit.”

It only took a couple threats of bodily harm for Tommy to tell you that Joel had feelings for you. Keyword: had. He stopped asking about it a while ago, stopped caring when it was obvious Joel “wasn’t goin’ to do a damn thing,” so don’t ask him if he knew more than what he did a few months ago. All of it was quickly followed by pleads to not say shit and that he was sorry he said anything at all.

You wondered what he would have said if you told him you'd wanted Joel Miller since the moment you laid eyes on him.

But, you didn’t. And a week and a half later, when Joel came back talking up a storm about an old flame he met up with in Dallas, how fate would have it that she was moving back to Austin—well, needless to say—Tommy’s inability to keep a secret meant nothing now.

Now, six months later, you’re left to wonder if it hurt Joel this bad when you went on dates, and had partners, and did everything you could to drown out the feelings you had for him. You’d think finding out he had feelings for you—but was now in a relationship with a woman who didn’t playfully (annoyingly) bicker with him, or snort, or make fun—would kill the ones you had for him. But the universe is cruel, and your heart has never really been one to quit.

Part of you feels bad for thinking it wouldn’t last. Well, not thinking—hoping. But it did, and you realize woefully that you’ve missed your chance with Joel Miller—the man you have spent too many years pining after, too many nights thinking that his brand of affection meant more than he was letting on, and buried too many sorrows in glasses of wine or bottles of beer over. But worst of all, you realize that Tommy was right.

So, he tells you he wants her to move in with him and Sarah one Saturday evening on his porch. Then he tells you she wants a cat. And you say you’re happy for him.

“You, uh, don’t think it’s too…soon?” he asks then, like he’s looking to you for a reason to back out. Every fiber of your being is aching to give him one, especially with the way he looks at you with those big browns of his, but the words scratch at your throat hard enough that they don’t make their way out. Instead, you shake your head slowly, forcing a shrug as you sip on the coffee Joel so tenderly prepared for you—the way you like it; he didn’t even have to ask.

“I think,” you start, though these words aren’t any less sharp than the ones you truly want to say, “if you’re happy, you should do what you want.”

“You ever picture me with a cat?” Joel snickers. He wears the gentlest smile, enough of one to form those crinkles by his eyes that you love so much.

“I think you’d look adorable with a cat,” you tell him, and it might be the first true thing you’ve said all night. You picture it, a purring cat curled on his chest, and someone he loves at his side. In your mind, you can’t help but put yourself in that spot. “But,” you continue, “can’t say I’ve ever thought of you actually getting one. You’re more of a…hm. German shepherd guy, maybe even a lizard.”

Joel laughs—that hearty, full, intoxicating laugh of his. It floods your veins and gives you goosebumps. If the world were to fall to ruins tomorrow, you’d survive on the memory of it alone, you think.

“Can’t say I disagree with you,” he says then, a leftover grin still curled on his lips, and you want to do anything in your power to keep it there. But then he gets lost in thought, and you watch it soften. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the fact that it’s gone so quickly makes you ache. He speaks again, voice soft as he says, “Guess I just want to make her happy. Lot of things stopped bein’ about me a long time ago, I think.”

Your heart cinches. Of course he’d say something like that. Of course he’d go and utter words that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place. And god, that realization hits hard. You are quite, disgustingly in love with Joel. Though it stings, and you’re going to go home and lick your wounds for the hundredth time soon, you get what he means. You stayed silent when he got back from Dallas for the same reason—the smile on his face when he talked about someone he might truly, genuinely like.

That, and because the someone wasn’t you.

You pull up your britches.

You have no other choice, you decide, because you’re young, and you’re an adult, and you can get over someone without feeling like you’re going to die. You use your little black book (read: an old Lisa Frank notepad) to call up the fling you had last winter. He’d wanted you, badly, but because there was a night where you thought Joel might’ve kissed you, you never called back. It seems stupid now, looking back.

But, you thank your lucky stars, or one man’s utter desperation, that he’s still single and he still wants you. He takes you out to a nice restaurant, in a nice suit, and nice shoes. The conversation isn’t even bad, and he’s putting your drinks on his tab. The second one in, you think maybe this could work.

It’s when you lose count that things go bad.

“I don’t even think Joel likes cats,” you’re slurring to this poor man, who is desperately scanning the restaurant for a waiter, a check, and a way out of your ramblings about Joel’s love life. You can’t tell if you’re crying or not, though it really feels like you want to. Because one moment you were having a nice time, and the next someone was ordering Joel’s drink—whiskey on the rocks, with a twist—at the table over and you weren’t able to keep him out of your mind from that point on.

It’s ridiculous, because it’s not Joel’s Drink, it’s A Drink—one that Joel only ever orders, but you could see someone in a worn down green and gray flannel and wonder when Joel Miller became such a trendsetter. Still, nothing can stop you from ordering one yourself, and then another, and then another. It’s like you’re trying to flood your senses with Joel Joel Joel because you know it’ll never be him sitting across from you with the intention of taking you home and maybe kissing you outside your door.

Though, if you weren’t gone by your fourth whiskey, you’d see that your date has lost any and all intentions of that manner. It’s probably not even because you’re drunk, it’s because you’re still wearing Joel’s name on your lips like it’s going out of style.

“Like—like, I can’t just tell Joel, no, y’know? Or, I don’t think you should get a cat with a woman you had a thing with before you met the mother of your child, and especially shouldn’t have her move in with you after six months. But I want to. Because he’s smarter than this, and I don’t think it’s the right move, especially because of Sarah, and Tommy, ugh, Tommy. Idiot. They’re both idiots. Joel especially, methinks.”

You don’t know when your date finally flagged down the waiter, or when he dropped you off at home, or when you got inside and picked up your landline. You especially don’t know when you dialed Joel’s number and left him a voicemail when he inevitably didn’t answer.

All you know is that you mixed your alcohols that night, and you’re probably going to wake up in some version of hell in the morning, but it seems like falling asleep has never been so easy before.

—

Hell is an understatement. You don’t get sick, but you wish you could throw up your brain, or at least the part of it that still gets headaches like this. It’s with the most gut wrenching revelation that you don’t have any ibuprofen, or any recollection of the night before.

For the time being, it’s truly the least of your worries. The most of them are getting rid of your life threatening headache. So, after making yourself as presentable as you can, you trudge across the street to Joel’s house—it’s because his house is closer than the drugstore three blocks down. Not because seeing his face would make you feel better anyways.

“Aren’t you a beauty this afternoon,” Joel laughs when he opens the door, because really, you look like death, and you hadn’t even realized it was past one o’clock. You’re grateful it’s Saturday, and Sarah has soccer practice right now, because she looks up to you, and the last thing you need is for her to see you like this.

“Shut up,” you grumble, shoving your way past him despite his teasing. He doesn’t mind, and you know he doesn’t. If the smile still on his face is anything to go by. It’s then you realize that yeah, okay, seeing him does make you feel better. Even if it’s just by a fraction.

“Thought you left your partyin’ days in college,” he continues with his teasing. “Let me guess: you came over here to raid my medicine cabinet.”

By the time he closes his front door and turns around, you’re already sinking into his plush couch, giving him a look with raised brows that could only mean, You mean you’re going to raid your medicine cabinet, for me.

“Ah,” he says. Any other moment, your heart would stutter at the ease in which he reads you. Now, your heart is threatening to fail for an entirely different reason. “Got it. Be right back.”

Joel sticks by his word. He comes back, not just with painkillers, but with water, warmed up coffee, and one of the store-bought muffins you love so much. If you weren’t dying, you’d hug the man. If you weren’t so smart, you’d probably even kiss him.

“Don’t die on me, alright? Need you around for shenanigans and such,” Joel tells you, leaving you to your devices on his couch. The pain meds go down, and the coffee does wonders from just one sip. You allow yourself to lie on the couch, pillow over your face to block out the harsh light. It seems that as the seconds pass, and by some miracle, you start to feel more and more at ease. Fragments of last night come back slowly, but not enough to piece together the entire puzzle.

You drank a lot, that much is clear.

It’s not until you hear a series of beeps from the kitchen, where Joel keeps his landline and answering machine, do the cogs in your brain start cranking a little harder. One voicemail plays over the speaker, something about work that makes Joel sigh and skip it before he can play it all the way through.

Beeeeep.

“Heeeeello, Joel. Hi, hello, howdy. It’s me.”

Joel calls out, “Did you call me last night?”

You sit up in record time.

It comes rushing back.

“I just don’t see why he can’t get something that doesn’t live so long. Like a hamster. Or goldfish. Or a fruit fly. It’s just so—“

“Listen! Listen. I don’t know who Joel or Tommy or Sarah are. You sound—hung up. But if you really want my advice? Get some closure. You clearly have feelings for this guy and you won’t get over him until you do.”

“Closure! Oh, you’re a genius!”

“Joel,” you call over the sound of your own drunken voice, dread now filling your body to the fucking brim. But it seems like your body can’t move fast enough. “Joel, hang up, hang it up, hang it up.”

“I just—just wanted to call and tell you I am so happy for you. And your future cat. And I think you should name it Frank. And because I am giving you names, that means I am getting closure—“

You can hear your heartbeat sounding against your eardrums, but feel it falling to the ground as you finally muster up the memory of how to work your legs. But by the time you’re stumbling into the kitchen, you can hear the worst of the voicemail that has Joel’s face drained of any possible readable emotion. You start praying for the ground to swallow you whole and munch your bones. It would be a more peaceful way to go than this.

“Because you’re over me, I am over you, my sweet Joel. That’s right. I am over you. How’s that for closure?”

The machine beeps, and then the heaviest silence enters the kitchen.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even years pass as you stand in the doorway, looking at Joel looking at the answering machine. Then at you.

“You’re…over me?” he finally says. You swallow the softball that had lodged itself in your throat and almost choke on it. “When, uh, when were you under me?”

Suddenly, you think the whole life flashing before your eyes thing is true. Because you feel like you’re dying, and all you can think about is every happy moment you’ve had surrounded by Joel. The first time you met, the way Sarah took a liking to you, the unlikely friendship you formed with his brother. You think of all the nights spent on Joel’s porch, sometimes talking, but most times in such a genuinely comfortable silence, where you could do nothing but enjoy each other’s presence. You think of all the fleeting touches, lingering glances, pet names reserved just for you—and how you doubted all the thoughts that they could mean something more.

You don’t know what hurts more—the fact that, according to Tommy, they did, or that now they didn’t.

But most of all, you think of how when you were searching for a home several years ago, you didn’t expect to find it in the family of a man named Joel Miller.

And you didn’t expect to lose it in the worst way possible.

When you remember where you are, what is happening, and realize that you haven’t actually died, you let out a pathetic little noise. Halfway between a whimper and the words you can’t yet form.

“What, uh—what did you mean, over me?” Joel finally asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, but god, you wish just this time he would. In fact, you wish he’d pretend that this never happened. But you know better. You know there’s no ignoring this.

“I—“ you barely manage to choke out. Because truly, what do you say? Against your better judgment, you opt for the truth. “I…may or may not have feelings,” you say, and then, “For you. Tommy told me you—you used to feel the same.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“…And you’re over me?”

You wince. Maybe drunk-you convinced yourself so briefly that saying it would make it true. But by the weight of your heart, and the way it feels like there’s been barbed wire wrapped around it, gripping it tight, you know any answer besides No would be a lie. But because you can’t really bring yourself to say it, not with the way tears threaten to burn your eyes any second now, you instead say, “I don’t know.”

It seems though, Joel wanted so desperately for you to say yes. By the way he jumps into action, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and making a break for it, he wanted you to say Yes, I’m completely over you. But you didn’t, and now he’s leaving you alone in his own house.

You don’t speak for a week.

You’re not exactly sure who’s avoiding who. You just know you’re wallowing in something that feels akin to lava that refuses to swallow you whole. Inside you there’s this ache, like there’s an empty space where someone should be inside your heart. It feels like three empty spaces, actually, and you had never weighed the consequences of losing Joel before. Part of you wishes you could have just gotten rid of your feelings for him a long time ago. Collecting the evidence now, though, told you there was no easy way to do that. Maybe quitting him cold turkey would have done the trick, or moving to Antarctica. But apparently, when you fell in love with Joel, you fell in love with his entire family, and three people was a hell of a lot harder to give up than one.

In fact, on day seven, you’re stealthing your way back inside your home after a trip to the grocery store, like you have been all week, when you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see Sarah across the street, standing at the backdoor of Tommy’s truck in her soccer uniform, waving at you with this sad little smile on her face. One that says she doesn’t know what’s going on, just that she hasn’t seen you in a while, and you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to her since you first met her.

You look around like you’re going to get caught committing a crime when you send the most timid wave back. It ends up feeling like a crime anyways when the face you’ve been aching to see comes out of the house, followed by his brother, and he follows Sarah’s line of sight. Meeting his eye is a serrated knife slicing through you, jagged, and harsh, and no clean cuts.

But what hurts the most is when he opens Sarah’s door and all but forcefully guides her inside the truck, like he’s ushering her away from a bad thing. You think maybe he is.

You rush inside afterwards and think of ways to never leave your house again.

Hours later, you’re sitting on your couch watching another ridiculous rom-com, the only comfort you’ve found, with perpetual tears brimming your eyes. Tommy really was fucking right, wasn’t he? Had there been some inkling of communication, you wouldn’t be here. But there wasn’t, and you are, and it sucks—somehow, it seems like this will never not hurt.

At ten o’clock, there’s a knock at your door. It makes you jump, mostly because this sense of knowing dread fills your body—like you know who it is before you can even open it, because you do. When Joel is standing on the other side, those big brown eyes of his full of something you can’t make out, he asks if he can come in. You aren’t even sure he’d listen if you said no, so you say yes.

He steps inside, you close the door, and there’s a beat of silence before, “Sarah was askin’ about you all day.”

You stand at your door, hands together as you toy with your own fingers nervously. Your heart is racing and your mind is reeling, but most of all, there’s this resounding ache echoing throughout your entire body.

“Sorry,” is all you can really say in return.

“I didn’t get a cat,” Joel says then. Your heart jolts at the mention.

“Oh.” You look down at your hands. “Interesting.”

“No, not interestin’.” When Joel speaks this time, he almost sounds angry. Frustrated, maybe, but he doesn’t sound happy, especially not with you. When you force yourself to look up, he has the face to match—brows furrowed, pout on his lips, gaze firm. “I should have a cat right now. I should have a movin’ truck outside my house, I should be living with my girlfriend—instead I’ve got a daughter askin’ too many questions, a shit talkin’ brother, and I’m standin’ inside your living room angry as all hell right now.”

“Angry?” you say. He absolutely just said too many words with too many implications, but that’s the one you happen to get caught up on. Mostly because it lights a fire in you. Part of you thinks he has every right to be angry, but the other part feels justified in your own anger. “I’m sorry, why the hell are you angry with me?”

“Because,” Joel responds quickly, voice harder, louder. He looks as if he didn’t expect you to fight back, but what a dumb presumption to have made. “Because you had no fuckin’ right to tell me you felt something about me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Joel,” you spit back, voice dripping with sarcasm, but really? You are.

“No, it’s not fuckin’ fair, and you don’t fuckin’ get it.” Joel steps forward, and for the first time, he does look genuinely angry. But after looking at him for a second longer, you realize it’s not that. He’s hurt. “I was doin’ fine before you came along with that mess. I was doin’ fuckin’ fantastic before I found out about you!”

“I was doing great before I found out about you!” you shout back even though you weren’t doing great before. Not even close. Still, you want to stay angry, but your voice betrays you. “You think it was easy to find out you used to feel the same way about me? You think it was easy watching you be all happy with someone else, huh?”

“Oh, like I haven’t done it a thousand times, darlin’.” Joel’s words are sharp.

“You never said anything!” Yours are too.

“There was never a good fuckin’ time,” he says coldly. Your own blood begins to turn icy in your veins as he huffs angrily.

“And now is?” you respond coolly, before your walls begin to crumble. They had a while ago, actually, but now you’re resorting to kicking the rubble around. “Why did you come over here, Joel? To rub it in my face, tell me that you’re just—just going to get rid of whatever you felt?”

There’s a flash of pain on Joel’s face before he resolves to a glower at you. “I was happy.” He says your name, broken and small. “And I’ve been doin’ it for a helluva long time, sweetheart. I can keep doing it now.”

Even though it truly does sound like he’s trying to convince himself of his own words, the suffocating pain in your chest is becoming too much to bear. So you point towards your door. “Then go.”

“Fine,” he spits, stomping towards the exit at your command.

“Fine!”

Before you know it, he walks out, your door slams, and he’s gone.

You finally reach a crossroads. As tears brim your eyes, you realize that this is it, isn’t it? You were an asteroid that missed Joel by a mile, and now you were sentenced to a life drifting aimlessly in space. You missed out on a place to land—this is it.

Moments pass. You do whatever you can to soak in everything that unraveled before you, and there’s no hope in picking up the pieces. No hope in weaving them back together. Before you can let out a pathetic little sob and stalk off towards your room, you suddenly hear footsteps leading back to your front door. Then there’s a knock at it, soft—quiet.

As your heart begins to race, you step to open the door, only to find Joel on the other side. As if you could be surprised. It’s safe to say you’ve never seen the man look so dejected, like a dog bringing a bird to your front door. He’s illuminated by your flickering porch light and the glow from the moon, and if you weren’t suffering so, you’d tell him you’d never seen a man look so ethereal.

Searching his eyes for any semblance of an answer to all the questions you now have doesn’t last long. Because before either of you can say a word, Joel’s hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you like he’s been underwater for far too long, and you’re fresh fucking air.

And you let him.

You let him, because the universe hasn’t offered you any other choice—if it has, you’re not fucking taking it. You let him kiss you, and push you inside, and kick the door closed behind him, because you’ve wanted this for years. You’ve ached for this, yearned for the feeling of Joel’s lips on yours, the warmth of his mouth and tongue—the feeling of his hands on your waist.

Joel kisses you for as long as either of you can stand it, which is a pretty long time considering the way your hearts are racing and lungs are clawing for air. It’s when the back of your knees are pressed against the arm of your couch, and you’re falling backwards onto it, pulling him down with you, do you both pull back long enough to breathe. Though, it’s mostly huffs, recovering from the sudden fall and shock of the best fucking kiss either of you have ever had in your life. Still, the urge to smile hits you for the first time in over a week.

You start to speak, whispering, “What about—“

“It’s over,” he says quietly into the space between your lips. “It was over the moment I heard that voicemail, I think. But only officially as of this afternoon.”

Your throat tightens. You look up at him, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears, but that ache in your heart has begun to dull. “So why did you—“

“Scared, mostly,” Joel interrupts you again, because it really isn’t that hard for him to know what you’re asking and why. He brushes stray hair from your face. “Confused. Because I really thought I was over you, sweetness. Took me a week to deal with the fact that I wasn’t. Didn’t even truly figure it out until my feet dragged me over here.”

Your brow furrows, but a sweet smile draws over your lips as you bring your own hand to his face. You caress his cheek, running your hand over his beard. Deep down, you get it. You really do. But you no longer have it in you to ask any questions. Joel is here, and he is kissing you, and even though nothing has been set in stone, you suddenly don’t feel the need to carry the hurt you had anymore.

“Think I owe Tommy a drink or two,” you joke then, and you both laugh. Joel even snorts.

“Like hell you do,” he scoffs, “Tommy ain’t do shit besides spill my secrets and cause us grief.”

“Okay, then we need to send Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal some gift baskets, at least.”

“What?” Joel laughs, but you pull him down for another kiss that melts your goddamn heart. You’ve had a taste, and you’re never going to get enough. But instead of getting into it completely, you just soak in the moment. Maybe Tommy was right about the whole talkin’ it out thing, but so were you, you realize.

Sometimes difficult things could end up being beautiful.

So when you pull back and meet Joel’s eyes once more, you give him the softest little smile.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” you say. “Promise.”

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