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Pink Poly Club (miromabby)
Summary: It's what happens after Huntrix and Saja boys' joint fansign event. Mira is annoyed at the trending hashtags online, she sees their fans shipping her with SB Romance and Abby. Their manager, thinking it'd be a good idea, organized another joint fansign event the next day.
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Mira snatched Bobby's phone out of his hands, fuming at the edited pictures she saw. "What's this? Pink Poly Club? No way am I being lumped in with those boys!" She handed the phone back.
Zoey was internally squealing.
"Me and Mystery? Like—" She caught the scary look on Mira's face and quickly backtracked. "I mean, ew, why? He's so NOT my type."
With an exasperated sigh, Mira ran a finger through her hair.
"Should I just dye my hair a different color? Ugh, like hell I would. Why’d they have to have the same color as me?"
"You look better anyway!" Zoey encouraged, flailing her arms. "Don't let them get to you. I’m not letting Mystery get to me, too... although, he is kind of my type—I mean, who said that!"
Bobby tried to get a word in, but the girls were too busy complaining. He didn’t even know where Rumi had gone—she’d just suddenly left. It wasn’t rare for the girls to get chaotic, but that didn’t make it any easier.
"But isn’t this great? It’s what the fans want. Maybe it’d be a good idea to have another one tomorrow..." he trailed off, thinking it might not be such a bad idea.
Oh well. Why not?
And so, here they were: another Huntrix x Saja Boys fansign event, with the same seating arrangement as yesterday. The fans were coming in hot—it even looked like there were more of them this time. Some wore miromabby shirts and held up edited ship posters.
"Hey, it’s nice seeing you again." Romance wrapped his arms behind Mira’s chair, leaning slightly at her side. From the corner of her eye, she could see some fans going wild. She ignored him and looked the other way—only to find Abby already staring. He grinned in that boyish charm of his, also leaning in close. "Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but here we are."
Her heart skipped a beat but she snapped out of it, shaking her head. She faced forward and shoved both guys' faces away from her. The fans were in a ruckus, and she couldn’t understand why.
With furrowed brows, she greets the first fan that comes up. Great, he's wearing a miromabby shirt.
"Cool shirt you got there. I don't remember taking it though." Abby commented, giving the guy a thumbs up.
Of course, he doesn't remember. It was clearly fake. A photoshopped picture of them with the two guys wrapping their arm on Mira's shoulders and she just had to be in the middle.
She furiously signed another fans poster, but doesn't forget to smile and thank them after. Abby and Romance won't stop staring at her and taking up her space.
"Can you two not?" Mira muttered under her breath.
Abby straightened with a dramatic sigh. "I don't like the number two. Let's be three instead."
"Oh my god," Mira groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I’m going to lose it."
Romance leaned back in his chair. "Can’t blame us nor the fans for having good taste."
"You do make a good centerpiece for a love triangle," Abby added.
Heat crawled up to her face and she glared at them both.
"Go bother someone else," she snapped, grabbing a sharpie and aggressively signing the next fan’s poster. The poor girl looked simultaneously thrilled and terrified.
Abby pouted, "Why would we? Don't wanna."
A sudden squeal erupted from the line of fans. A group of them were holding up a massive printed banner: "MiRoMAbby FOREVER 💖"—complete with photoshopped wedding photos and glittery pink text.
Zoey peeked over. "Whoa. That’s, like, next-level editing. I almost believed it was real."
"Don’t say it out loud! They’ll think it’s encouragement!"
These people had Mira stressed out. She glanced at the other end of the table where Rumi and Jinu was in. It was impossible to spot Rumi from the way Jinu was blocking her view with his back. Why's that guy all over her?
"You really should be focusing," Romance took her hand that's holding the pen and guided it to sign the next poster. Their fingers interlocked.
His hand was warm, and it was creeping up to her body. Romance doesn't let go. He stared at her face, taking in the faint blush on her cheeks despite her frown.
"Hey..." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "You should come with us after this."
"Shut up." She whispered back harshly, hating how her heart was now beating wildly.
Abby twisted his finger on her hair, playing with it softly. "Pay me some attention too, Mira."
Oh, someone help her.
________
first time I posted here. i had the sudden urge and here we are. that's my short contribution to this ship. might write more.
also, idk but huntrix songs>>>saja boys songs for me. their vocals are insaneeee. gotta give my girls more love cus what. their songs on repeat 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻
#kpop demon hunters#miromabby#fanfic#mira#abby#romance#kdh#saja boys#romance x mira x abby#mira x abby#mira x romance
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perchance relationship headcanons for mira w/ a gn reader?? i don’t really have too many ideas in mind so you can do whatever feels right 😭

◆ MAIN COURSE: Mira x gn!Reader
◆ TYPE: SFW
◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: N/A
◆ NOTES: This req came running in a matter of mere mins since sending out that annoucement my GOD 🥰 THANK YOU 🥰🥰🥰 I've been having their songs on loop I swear to god
I LOVE MY BABY I personally think it's a crime that when you think about it Mira and Zoey are very underdeveloped in the plot 😞 but that's not relevant rn ANYWAY
Mira is someone who holds her cards REALLY close to her chest. She's had to grow up that way—being considered the problem child meant whatever she did was scrutinised to all hell and back, so as rebellious as she was, sometimes that didn't necessarily mean feeling 'free' to express herself either. And when she does, it's blunt, cutting, usually ending up with her parents telling her to hush or soften her words to something befitting of......well........someone Not Her
That carries on to how she is with romance, unfortunately. Dating her would be, for simplicity's sake, difficult, and even getting to that point in the first place is even more so. But I swear, trust me when I say that the effort will be so incredibly worth it
Mira would tend to analyse your words a LOT. The other HUNTR/X members are one thing, she's so extremely close with them now that she's comfortable to let her guard down. But with anyone else? Even you? Oh god she is a SCEPTIC through and through; she's the type to prefer actions over words, otherwise she'll take everything you say with more than a grain of salt
And like I said, Mira would also be extremely blunt. She doesn't hold back with her words, so if she's pissed off or disappointed, she WILL make it known. I think it'd be even more so when it comes to someone she has feelings for as well, not for the sake of maliciousness but it's her own way of letting you know how she genuinely feels in the moment without mixing shit up
I think if you genuinely show her that you respect her agency and how she is, if you give her the time and space she needs, she'll slowly but surely start to open up to you and allow herself to not get her guard up all the time
"Hey."
Mira's sharp tone caught your attention, but you've learned to easily take it in stride. Where staff would've cowed slightly at the feeling of being intimidated, you simply lifted your head up and met the idol's gaze head-on. "Mira," you nodded in acknowledgement, "need something? I thought you were rehearsing."
Mira shrugged as she approached, the penthouse windows reflecting her movements for you to see, "We were, but Bobby needed to talk to Rumi about something and Zoey went to finish her rapping verse for the new song."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped past your lips, "I'd have assumed she went to eat her heart out."
"That girl can multitask," the corner of Mira's lips lifted in barely-contained amusement when she leans on the arm of the sofa across you.
"And you?" You tilted your head slightly, "What are you doing now?"
"Taking a break, obviously."
"I thought there was no rest for a K-Pop idol."
"That is Rumi's thing, you're talking to the wrong idol."
"Right, right, my bad, Ms. 'I came to the Met Gala in a sleeping bag'."
Mira huffed in slight laughter at the memory, "If everyone's just going to abandon all sense of comprehensible fashion, what does it matter if I wore a sleeping bag? Realistically speaking, I was the only one there who felt comfortable."
"Fair enough," is all you offer.
And really, the silence should've bothered her. Usually it did. Without Rumi or Zoey to fill the silence, the lack of.. anything would usually make her feel like she's being internally scrutinised for any reason—the way she dressed, the way she spoke, the way she presented herself in general.
But with you? Mira felt none of that. With interacting, the responses flowed easily, and she didn't feel like she was wittingly stepping on landmines whenever she said anything. In silence, there was no pressure, there was no prickling feeling of scrutiny, it was just.. comfortable.
Not quite the same sort of comfortable she had with the other HUNTR/X members, of course, but.. something different.
Honestly she didn't know whether she wanted to lean into it or pull away.
So she tests the waters instead, "You're weird."
"Am I?"
"Yeah, you are. People would either freak out, use us for clout, or give Dispatch the time of their lives," she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, "but you've done none of that. You're just.. here. "
"..Am I not allowed to be here?"
"Not my point. I mean you don't push yourself onto the three of us," on her, though that goes completely unsaid in favour for the feeling of protectiveness for what her trio had. "What's your angle?"
Maybe the question should've offended, but.. all you did was shrug as you answered with complete sincerity, your voice not wavering even once, "None. Is it that hard to believe that I just genuinely enjoy your company?"
Mira blinked. "Yes."
(Some small part of her mind, clearly unimportant, wondered whether you meant to refer to HUNTR/X as a whole.. or just her.)
And you laughed, a low chime in the otherwise quiet penthouse living room, "Not much I can do there, unfortunately. Guess you'll just have to trust me."
Trust.
That never came easy for her, not now and certainly not back then.
And yet.
"..Guess I do."
Once you actually end up dating, it's ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ UGH I love her
Yk how she'd be blunt as hell? See that still stays. HOWEVER. When you're not in, say, a professional or a life-or-death situation, her voice takes on a certain care and softness that she doesn't even have with HUNTR/X. It's not wholly noticeable, but you can hear it in the way she's slightly less sharp when addressing you, you can see it in the way that her expression softens subtly when she talks about you (and Zoey and Rumi tease her to the moon and back, mostly Zoey LMFAO)
I don't think she'd use nicknames personally, feels too cheesy for her. Actually, saying things in general is too cheesy for her, not to mention again she much prefers showing than telling. So instead of nicknames, it's sudden gifts like the jacket she clocked you eyeing up but didn't buy or even just your favourite snack from the convenience store. Instead of waxing poetry about what she adores about you, she expresses it in gestures. An example would be if you did makeup, she'd watch you and if there's something specific that she's noticed about your features but YOU didn't, she might even guide you or do the makeup herself so that your makeup is properly done justice
She won't be clingy, but she'd be EXTREMELY protective of you. Friends (and especially HUNTR/X actually) are one thing, but Mira letting herself date someone in the first place? Shit man that means she considers you as someone she genuinely wants to stay with. She recognises very well that you have your own life, and she has hers, and she wouldn't want to suffocate in the way SHE doesn't want to be suffocated either. But at the same time, when you're out together, she'd step a little closer, guide you through crowds like a bodyguard instead of your girlfriend (lol), and in the case of demons ever coming near you? Oooooh MAN it's over for them—no one, and I mean NO ONE, is taking the person who makes her feel like she belongs and she's lovable
I feel the need to add that if you like dancing or you ARE a dancer/fellow choreographer, then it's bonus points to you. Mira's bluntness actually helps here, since she'll freely give you feedback on your movements AND even demonstate the dances/suggest alternatives. And because the two of you are together? Yes. Yes she'll come close and guide you with touch without hesitation 🥰🥰🥰. OH OH OH AND LET'S NOT FORGET COUPLE DANCES TOO!!!! PLEAAAASE it'd just be the two of you in the dance studio and you're doing the tango or even ballroom dancing (you can tease her about it and she'll say she's multifaceted)
I think there are moments where she'd retreat to herself, especially during the beginning of your relationship or after the first few times you fight. It's already a huge insecurity of hers, being aware that she can be easily UNapproachable due to how brutally honest she can be. The time with Rumi was one thing, but you're someone who she willingly gave and entrusted her entire heart to—what happens if that's.. gone? Please give her space before the two of you talk again, she's genuinely a reasonable person. Reassure her that you're willing to give her whatever she needs, and over time she grows more comfortable with the new form of vulnerability, and she'll withdraw less when she realises that yes! You're staying, and nothing she does will change that
Also? Nap times. Relaxations in the hot springs. GOD yes. Couple spa dates? Genuine bliss 🥰🥰🥰 And speaking of dates, she knows she's busy as HELL. But she tries her best to either carve out time for you or she actually has you involved with whatever it is she's busy with, surprisingly (like having you watch her choreo to see if there's anything that sticks out, watching her and the other girls go on reality shows, etc)
Overall? It's like having a cat for a girlfriend. One that genuinely treasures you when she finds herself wanting your presence to be a constant bc of how you make her feel ☹️

#mona's main course...#mira x reader#kdh mira x reader#kpop demon hunters x reader#kpop demon hunters imagines#kdh x reader#kdh imagines#huntrix x reader#huntrix imagines#huntr/x x reader#huntr/x imagines
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OK HEAR ME OUT…
Dally x fem reader with autism hcs (or one shot or whatever u want)
Like idk just someone who is rly hyper fixated on certain stuff and like… other autism things…
Ik it was VERY different in the 60s but I just need my man to comfort me😝😔💔
Ofc this is only if your comfortable writing this 💯
an: Thank you for the request! I'm going to do headcanons so that I can cover more stuff, but let me know if y'all want a fic! This is unrealistic. In the 60s, child with autism were automatically institutionalized. That's actually so crazy and sad. For the purposes of this- that isn't the case.
W: insensitivity, swearing, not proof read
At first, he doesn't understand
Like if a sound or lights are overstimulating you, he will tell you to calm down
But once you start dating- he makes sure everyone understands
Music too loud? He's telling them to turn it down
Someone's humming bothering you? He's telling them to shut the fuck up
He does not play.
He does not want you to have a meltdown
The first time you had a meltdown, he was scared and stressed out of his mind
He did not know what to do and he felt so helpless
Like he'll try to hold you and talk to you and is pretty much just repeating: "It's okay," "Calm down," and "What's wrong?"
After the first time, you told him ways that he can help, so now he's prepared and actually calming when that happens
I totally see him as the listener type, he likes silence too, but he will listen to you talk about your hyperfixation forever
If he sees anything associated with your hyperfixation- he's stealing it
You're obsessed with a certain band and he sees a cassette? In his pocket
You're hyper fixated on an animal and he sees a little figurine? Snatched
You might scold him about it while fighting back a smile, but he won't stop. He knows it makes you happy
He'll stop using the r word and will throw hands with anyone he hears using it!
For some reason thinks that you can't have weed? Like he thinks that it will fuck with your brain extra? Idk don't ask me
He likes staring at you, he thinks you're beautiful after all, but I don't see him as a big fan of eye contact either. So, he's totally chill if you can't do eye contact
Dallas isn't big on routines, but if you need a routine, he'll follow
You want to see him at specific times on specific days? Actually, he forgot 😬
Yeah... but he's sorry. Like really really sorry. He only messes up a few more times
If you ever live together, sometimes he's a bit annoyed that you won't sleep in with him, but he gets used to it
He gets so used to your routines without even realizing it
He picks up every little habit you have without noticing too😭
If you're a picky eater, he will be making fun of you, I'm sorry
He's still an asshole
This mf will eat ANYTHING, so he's a bit surprised by that very limited amount of things you'll eat
When Dallas is comfortable with someone, he's touchy
If you're not down with that, he's a bit taken back
He'll respect you when you tell him to stop ofc
But he will ask to touch you all the time
But he's to embarrassed to ask straight up, so he'll hover his hand over you will pretty much giving you puppy dog eyes
"🥺🫳"
Again, he does like quietness, so he's more than happy to just sit in silence with you if you're overstimulated
If someone ever complains about you stimming or fidgeting, he will get mad
He will take offense and he will tell this person off
Dallas thinks it's adorable when you stim when excited or happy
When you swim when you're stressed or anxious, it stresses him out tho
If the smell of smoke ever is overstimulating you when he's smoking, he'll feel so bad
At first, he wouldn't feel bad, and might even blow smoke into your face, but once he actually starts to understand autism and how you are, he feels bad
He'll put it out or go outside right away
an: I hate mosquitoes, but I love you guys!
Bonus: pictures I found on pintrest while trying to find stuff for the pics at top
Im scared
#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders 1983#the outsiders#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston#dally winston#dallas winston headcanons#dallas winston fluff#the outsiders headcanons#autistic!reader
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Hello hello!!! Im not sure if im doing this right so im sorry if i had any errors in my request!! Im not sure either how specific I should be </3 But I'll try to do so!!
I wanted to request a hugo x reader romantic fic where Reader is the type of person who finds value in everything!! The stars, the grass- random trash she finds bc she think "each item may hold a story behind them!!/may be important to the person who used to have it" She just thinks everything should be treasured!! Maybe even that she's so focused on everything around her, that she doesn't even think about herself :0?
im so sorry if this isn't specific enough or if i requested the wrong way huhu
Star Gatherer
She saw beauty in everything but herself—and only Hugo, a man with a wounded heart, could remind her that she deserved to be the most cherished part of this world.

She burst into his life like a comet streaking across the night sky with a silver tail, not asking if her beauty was wanted.
Hugo never bothered with trifles. He built his empires on lies, deceit, and cunning schemes. His stage was the world, and he knew perfectly well that victory was often built on the ashes of others' defeats. Every step was calculated. Every word, a tool. Every action, for something greater.
And she... she could spend hours examining a crack in a tile, musing that "surely someone tripped over it at an important moment in their life." Or carefully press a faded tram ticket to her chest as if it were a frozen song of memories.
"You realize that's just trash?" he'd ask then, genuinely, almost with irritation.
She looked at him with her soft, warm, slightly bewildered smile.
"What if, for someone, it was their last day of freedom? Or their first declaration of love? Who knows, Hugo. Even trash can become a relic if you look deeper."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to laugh. But he couldn't. Because in her voice wasn't naive infatuation, but true belief. A belief in the beauty of every imperfect detail of the world.
Hugo didn't immediately understand why he was so drawn to her.
She wasn't looking for adventure; she wasn't a thief, a spy, or an heiress to anything. She had no grand name or great deeds behind her. She was, as he himself once said of himself as a child, nobody.
Except... she had a look as if she saw more than everyone else.
When she first entered his gallery, dressed simply, even slightly awkwardly—in a patched sweater, a skirt with hand-stitched pockets, and hair smelling of rain—he thought it was a mistake.
"Excuse me, private exhibition," he said in his usual polite tone.
She approached a painting, freezing for a few seconds.
"That's 'Capturing the Morning'... But why did the artist leave such uneven strokes in the corner? As if he was rushing or crying."
He was stunned. No one... no one, not even the most seasoned collectors, had noticed that.
"Do you know the artist?"
She turned to him. "No. But I know what pain looks like when it hasn't cooled yet."
From then on, he began to find excuses to call her more often. To help with restoration, or to "ask her to look" at a new find. She readily agreed, asking no unnecessary questions.
She could sit on the floor in the dark gallery storeroom, holding a broken ceramic cup in her hands and whispering, "Someone probably drank tea from it when they received bad news. Or good news. It's part of their story. It's important."
He didn't understand. And at the same time, he couldn't tear himself away.
In her presence, the world seemed different. And he himself—different too.
Hugo, a man who despised weakness, suddenly began to wonder, "Are those who fear to feel not weak themselves?"
And, of course, she noticed nothing.
She saw the reflections of stars in puddles but didn't notice how he looked at her—with a quiet, careful, almost painful tenderness.
She could pick up a fallen button from his jacket, say that "it probably got lost during an important conversation," and carefully put it in his pocket...
And then walk past, unaware that Hugo had lost his voice for a few minutes.
He saw how she admired everything but herself. How she forgot to eat while caring for abandoned flowers near an old factory. How she shivered from the cold because she had given her jacket to a homeless dog. How she didn't notice that she herself was among those "things that need to be cherished."
He wished he could tell her. But his voice trembled. He, a gang leader, a man who had deceived the elite and business tycoons, couldn't find the right words. He was ready to risk himself for others but didn't know how to risk his feelings.
And one day, when she again brought a shard of glass to the gallery—"like a piece of a star"—he took her hand. Gently, yet firmly.
"You see beauty in everything. But why don't you notice yourself?"
She froze. Her eyes, always full of light, widened in surprise. "Me...?"
"Yes. You. You are more important than any object you've ever picked up. Your heart is more beautiful than all the paintings in this gallery. And I..." he exhaled, "I don't just want to be near you. I'm already addicted to the way you smile at trash on the street."
That night, for the first time, she admitted to herself that she also felt something. And he, for the first time, realized that one could be vulnerable—and still remain strong. Because next to her, his wounds stopped bleeding.
Even when he was eating a pastry to keep from collapsing from weakness—and she accidentally caught him doing it. He prepared for mockery. For disgust. For worry.
But she just sat down quietly beside him. "Do you want me to find the most tasteless pastry in the world, so it's just sugar, but without... the trauma?"
He looked at her and couldn't answer. Because a lump was in his throat.
And then he laughed. Quietly. Honestly.
#22ayla21#zzz hugo vlad#hugo vlad x reader#hugo vlad#zzz x reader#zenless zone zero x reader#zenless zone zero
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so i sprained my finger while crocheting a blanket 😭🤣
#;; & gathered round the campfire. ( ooc )#( fuck's sake LMFAO#it's not bad it doesn't bother me to type#and it's on my left hand#but jfc self lmfao )
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"SMG is the only one acting well in this scene" Angel is completely disoriented after months of not being himself and she stabs him within a minute of 'gaining consciousness'
#david is not the GREATEST actor in the world I'm not saying that#SMG is the best actor on the entire show and she has experience#but buffy is going through a much more emotional scene than angel because SHE KNOWS AND HE DOESN'T#that's PART of her agony he literally doesn't know what he's done yet and she's killing him just when she got him back#there's a difference between being a totally terrible actor and just having a character that is not as impactful as others#angel doesn't really get that type of time or development on buffy#he's merely her love interest and simultaneously/later on her Big Bad#he's not really considered much of his own person#and sure you can argue that DB isn't great in early seasons btvs#but to ME i think it's more about angel's character as we're first introduced to him#he's not had much social contact with others (he's awkward even when he is social)#which is highlighted more in AtS but DB is improved AND is given time to be his own character outside of buffy's shadow#i know a lot of you like to only view characters in the shipping sense and not as individual characters though so i won't bother arguing#this is just me stating my piece. okay.
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id further break factors to consider in this discussion down like this: (apologies for cliff notes style, im dredging my memory)
a) mass media.
there is debate if majorly offensive racist stereotypes matters more when in "mass media" (mass media like how in the US daytime television is censored vs movies having a rating system, or public furor raising the types of potential due diligence a hollywood movie takes into account vs a small crew doing run n gun short film). It's a discussion about the reasoning behind badgering creators about specific potentially prejudicial impact, which i consider to be something to be deployed sparingly for a lot of reasons. it turns on mass distribution placing additional moral considerations (which honestly i think would gel with financial benefit in the long run if judged by longevity or impact or reputation of creative endeavor- hopefully never used so that the company one day tries to copyright portrayal of folktales tho) but it would be ideally applied under pretty specific criterion and justification due to how common it is globally to use this argument as an arbitrary and prejudicial bludgeon for anything some random person takes issue with in itself- (smaller 'community standards' being a different thing,) ... i could see this getting long.
b) age groups
targeting "younger age groups" (tangibly! not in terms of what you think the story vibes could potentially resemble) factors into arguing the impact some kind of fiction would have - (and when this targeting is big enough that it intersects with the above, using time and place and context arguments, that also factors in)
and i think the separate topic below was trying to comment on if the community was a result of the game for how it uses violence plus reasons imputed to sexist norms in a kind of melange, which i dont think is strictly true. id look at demographics before trying to investigate that as well. i think social media spaces should moderate to discourage/watch out for kids being exploited. thats a different subject. but making a connection between shootem ups and ideological character of a community on that basis alone? i dont think theres a good way to tie it unless you implied something like (a portrayal of) shooting guns inherently changes your beliefs to be aggressive (which a) has a long history and b) a simplification of how a kind of gun culture could lead to more gun violence, which imo doesn't have overmuch to do with video game 'influence', id also guess more along the lines of the community attracted to the games already had a predilection towards whatever the specific issues ended up being. )
#a lil rushed#below was bothering me because it doesn't separate#the specifics of the possibility of giving bad facts people act on like a false impression of the world#from a more dubious claim that the game alone had a mysterious ability to condition morally naughty behavior in ur subconscious -#people love this but this theory has never been proven. i dont think thats it. doesnt end well.#i think people can come to associate a kind of fiction made by a type of community but thinking it through does matter#so the internet stops coming up with ways to jump people who haven't committed any wrong on the basis of vibes.#unclear assertions are easily manipulated to target randos because it has no basis in fact besides discomfort.#reputation and decision making is a different matter#also: sometimes the existence of a work of fiction is also bandied around as a symbol but even then i think there are arguments that it isn#at fault for ideological movements in itself#symbolic offensiveness for a current topical type of violence is always dicey as well#they used to call jazz immoral because it was associated with partying and drugs. now we see obviously this is not a legitimate accusation
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In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.
Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.
Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?
Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.
More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.
But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.
A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.
Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.
So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.
Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.
It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.
There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:
The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”
A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.
It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.
And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.
Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.
Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.
So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.
Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.
So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.
And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.
And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.
And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.
Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.
Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).
It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.
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im sorry but aftgtwt pisses me off so bad.

like?? what tf did thea do to make yall hate her sm??
i swear ppl act like she preyed on kevin or smth when he was literally the one who felt attraction towards her first.
not only that, but they didn't even start a relationship until they were both legal adults. no flirting or anything was stated to have happened between them until kevin was at least 18, like???
#and dont even get me started with how ppl treat nicky on twt#(tiktok too tbh but im not rly on aftg tiktok too much so idrk)#like it just pisses me off that certain ppl act like their opinions abt certain characters are universal#like just bc you dont like nicky doesn't mean that ppl who do are bad ppl#'how can anyone excuse nicky's actions bc he suffered' who's excusing them???#like do ppl forget that nicky & neil talked abt what happened that night#nicky obv felt bad abt it and in the end they reconciled#it mostly just bothers me bc these will be the same ppl that will obsess over andrew or some other character and act like they can do no#wrong but in the same breath shit on ppl who like nicky or thea or some other majorly disliked character in the fandom#it also bothers me tho bc i feel like these r the type of ppl who overlook the entire meaning of the books#these characters are FLAWED#that is the POINT#like they are meant to make mistakes and do shitty things and then learn to be better!!#it bothers me tho bc you see this holier than thou attitude only with certain characters#(i.e nicky thea aaron etc.)#and its like#if ur gonna act like these characters are the devil fucking reincarnate bc they have flaws#then u better act like that with ur faves too#but the thing is#is that these ppl DON'T#like i feel like they just pick a choose which actions & attributes they dislike on certain characters#but they don't apply that rhetoric too all the characters#no hate to the op's or anything bc u can think/have whatever opinion u want abt the character's#but they r not universal!#and i feel like ppl having such harsh opinions abt thea nicky etc#causes nora to feel like she can't talk abt them or even include them in HER BOOK#idk just had to vent abt that#bc its been on my mind and it just irks me the way ppl in this fandom act#with complete disregard of the literal author of the books#aftg
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Birthday Wish
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky doesn't want to make a big deal out of his birthday, but you want to make it special.
Word Count: Over 2.3k
Warnings: Mutual crush, confessions, humor, light angst, fluff, reference to Bucky's past, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Happy birthday to Bucky and this is my first submission for @avengers-assemble-bingo (Card 4B 020 - Square 2 - Birthday Boy). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t care to celebrate his birthday. What was there worth celebrating? It was just another day like any other, another year that he got older. Even then, his looks didn’t match his current age. It was strange to look in the mirror and have the appearance of someone so much younger when he was born in 1917. He should’ve been old.
He should’ve left this world a long time ago.
While he was thankful for Steve and his other friends, he did feel a pang in his heart when he thought of his family. The last birthday he got to celebrate with his mom and sisters was before he got shipped off to war. Since then, there were no homemade cakes, no happy singing and jokes about him getting older, no candles to blow out and make a wish.
What would he even wish for today?
“Maybe we can all go out to dinner,” Steve suggested when he brought up Bucky’s birthday. “That could be fun, right?”
He felt bad shrugging in response since his best friend was trying to help him celebrate. “Maybe.”
“Dinner? Jesus, you two really are old men,” Tony commented, typing something into his phone. “Say the word and I’ll throw you a party. Best party you’ve ever had. You can thank me later.”
Bucky didn’t mean to give Tony a grumpy look, but parties were the billionaire’s thing. And while he didn’t mind having the spotlight on him as a younger man, it seemed foreign to him now. “My birthday is tomorrow, which gives you no time to plan a party, and I think I’m good.”
“I’m insulted that you would underestimate me and my connections,” Tony argued.
“No party,” Bucky said. He didn’t want one.
“What do you want to do then?” Sam asked.
Bucky’s brows pinched together. He didn’t really know. “My birthday isn’t a big deal, so I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replied. Something low-key and not the least bit stressful would be nice. “I guess if I had to choose something, I’d like to read a new book and have a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.”
The guys stared at him, and he waited for Tony to laugh or make another “old man” comment. He didn’t care. It was his birthday they were asking about, so shouldn’t he get to choose what he wanted to do?
“I think that’s really sweet. And chocolate cake with chocolate frosting is delicious.”
Turning toward the soft voice, a smile touched Bucky’s lips and his heart fluttered when he saw you smiling back. The newest member of the team, you always had words of encouragement or a soft smile for him. As kind as you were, you could also kick ass and give Natasha a run for her money. To say he had a bit of a crush on you was an understatement.
“Thanks, doll,” he whispered.
You ducked your head with a giggle before you cleared your throat, making his smile widen. When he let his mind wander he liked to imagine you whimpering or sighing when he whispered that in your ear. If you only knew the things he thought about you, both naughty and nice.
“‘Doll’?” Tony groaned and shook his head. “Barnes, we really need to acclimate you to the modern world because no one with any sense calls anyone ‘doll’.”
His jaw clenched and color rose to his cheeks. Maybe it was a bit old-fashioned, but he liked it and he thought you liked it, too. But if it bothered you…
“You can call me ‘doll’, Bucky,” you assured him. “I don’t mind.”
Bucky could’ve used the opportunity to say something charming or sweet, but he kept the words in his head and gave you a grunt and a nod instead. A fucking grunt and a nod. What the hell was wrong with him? He might as well have given you a high-five and called you “buddy”.
“Okay,” you drew the word out slowly. “I’ll see you guys later!”
While Bucky watched you leave the room, the guys once again stared at him. “Not a fucking word,” he growled when Tony opened his mouth, heading out himself. He didn’t want their pity or their jokes.
With his exceptional hearing, he stopped when Tony muttered, “Tin Man better step up his game because that was painful to watch.”
“I’m old, not dead. I have game,” he mumbled. Well, he used to have game. Times were different now, and so was he. Still, his heart skipped a beat at the thought of you liking him, and maybe he could step up and take a chance.
“Be nice, Tony,” Steve sighed.
“I’ll be nice when he grows a pair and makes a move. Look, we all have eyes and we see how she looks at him.” Bucky felt butterflies in his stomach before Tony continued. “And she’s a stunning creature. Someone will snag her if he doesn’t.”
Bucky clenched his gloved fists. “Lay off the guy,” Sam said. “He’ll make a move when he’s ready.”
“Tomorrow,” Bucky whispered, walking away, determined. He would make a move tomorrow. It would either be the best birthday he could remember or he’d lick his wounds alone in his room and hope you’d still be his friend.
But as luck would have it, he didn’t get to talk to you the next morning.
He swore he saw you rush out of the kitchen with something in hand, but Steve stopped him to wish him a happy birthday. Everyone greeted him throughout the morning with various messages ranging from nice to references of his age. They all made it a point to say something, but he hadn’t seen you at all. Well, he hadn’t seen you or-
“Happy year of birth, Barnes!” Thor shouted. Bucky’s reflexes couldn’t stop the handful of confetti from hitting his face. “Let us celebrate, my friend!”
Bucky spit a piece of confetti out and tried to wipe away the remainder that landed on his face and shirt. “Thanks?”
The god of thunder looked him over. “Wasn’t your hair longer yesterday?” he asked, inhaling when Bucky ran a hand through it. “And are you wearing cologne? Is it for the party?”
“Maybe,” he said under his breath. He had trimmed his hair a bit and spritzed some cologne in the hopes of getting your attention if he bumped into you. It was stupid. “Party? What are you-”
He tensed up for a second when Thor threw an arm over his shoulders. “Stark said you didn’t want a party and I believe it’s meant to be a surprise, so don’t tell him I told you,” he said. Bucky almost snarled. He didn’t want a party. And how the hell did Tony put something together at the last second? “He also planned for it to be earlier in the day because he said you are old and wouldn’t want to stay up late. The man is-”
“Bucky!” you called out from down the hall, making him relax. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, doll,” he smiled, happy to finally see you.
“I like your haircut,” you said, gliding across the floor to where they stood and commanding the presence of anyone who looked your way. “It looks great.”
Bucky puffed his chest out, glad that you noticed and liked it. “Thanks, doll.”
“You got…” You smiled and wiped the remainder of confetti from his chest, his heart rate picking up. “Thor, I’m so sorry, but I have to steal Bucky away for a bit. You don’t mind, do you?”
Thor humbly bowed to you, your doe eyed expression getting the blonde to easily bend to your will. Bucky’s hands flexed and for a moment he felt jealous before he remembered Thor wasn’t romantically interested in you. “Not at all. I shall take my leave.”
“Thank you,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s and gently pulling him away. “Mmm. You smell good, too.”
Bucky hid a smile. “Thanks again,” he said, happy that he made the call to wear it. “Hey, Tony isn’t really throwing me a party, is he?”
You winced. “Yeah, he’s throwing something,” you confirmed. Bucky was going to have a chat with him later. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he didn’t listen to me.”
“I appreciate you trying,” he said, pulling you closer to his side. It meant a lot.
“Which is why I wanted to steal you away for a bit so you could have some peace and quiet.”
You guided him to the tower library which was one of his favorite areas. When he wasn’t training or hanging out in his room, he was usually there. “What is that?” he asked when he saw the CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE sign on the doors.
“Oh, I did that so no one would come in,” you winked, opening the doors so he could go inside. “Tada! Happy birthday!”
Bucky’s mouth fell open when he saw the small set up in the corner. There was a book with a bow sitting on the chair and a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting with a single candle on the table beside it. “Did you… Did you do this for me?” he asked, his chest getting tight. It was exactly what he asked for.
“Yeah. You said you didn’t want to make a big deal out of your birthday, and I thought you deserved to have the kind of birthday you wanted. So, a slice of cake and a new book it is,” you smiled, a bounce in your step when you went to light the candle for him. “But I may have gotten you one more thing.”
“And what’s that?” he asked. You had already gone above and beyond for him. There was nothing you needed to get him.
“Tickets to the new science exhibit that’s opening this weekend.”
His chest felt tight again. He mentioned to you in passing that he wanted to go to the museum to see the new science exhibit. His love of science was something that hadn’t died, but hadn’t gotten around to buying tickets yet. You really paid attention to him and cared, didn’t you?
Your smile faltered just a bit when he kept staring. “I hope it’s okay that I did that. I really wanted you to have a nice birthday and you mean a lot to me and…” you trailed off as if you didn’t mean to say that.
God, he wanted you to mean it.
“It’s more than okay, thank you,” he swallowed, making his way over to you. “And did you say I mean a lot to you?” he asked because he had to hear you say it again.
You bit your lip and he wanted to bite your lip, too. “Yeah, you do.”
Hearing that was one of the best birthday gifts you could give him. “You mean a lot to me, too,” he confessed. You meant everything. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”
There was that giggle again that he loved. “Oh, I’m not, but thank you.”
“Yes, you are,” he whispered. You were the most amazing woman he knew. “I think that candle’s about to go out.”
The flame glowed in your eyes when you held up the plate and he felt lost in the best way. “Then you better make a wish.”
A charming smile crossed his face. “I can’t blow out my candle until someone sings ‘Happy Birthday’,” he teased.
Bucky expected you to protest when you opened your mouth. “Happy birthday to you.” He exhaled as you sang, your smoothe tone sending tingles down to his toes. “Happy birthday to you.”
Taking a step closer he placed a hand on your hip, your voice turning a bit breathy. It was beautiful. Everything about you was beautiful. He didn’t think he could fall any harder for you, but he was falling more and more each day.
“Happy birthday, dear Bucky…” You peered at him through your lashes. Looking back at you, he felt like he had something worth celebrating. “Happy birthday to you.”
With a gentle breath he blew the candle out and took the plate from your hands with ease. He heard both of your hearts beating faster, and he saw hope in your eyes. He gazed back at you, silently asking for permission. He wanted to kiss you, wanted you to be his girl.
Bucky wanted his birthday wish to come true.
“Doll…” he breathed.
It wasn’t until you nodded that he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours. He took his time, savoring the feel of your mouths together. It was perfect, a moment he’d never forget.
“Wow,” you whispered when he pulled away. “That was amazing.”
“Yeah?” he smiled.
“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And I’m thankful it was a kiss you gave me instead of a grunt and a nod.”
Bucky laughed. “I can still give you a grunt and a nod,” he teased, touching your warm cheek. “And you know, since it’s my birthday and you said I should celebrate how I want, I think it’s only fair that I get 108 kisses.”
“Sergeant Barnes, are you really asking me for 108 kisses?”
“To start,” he smirked. “And it’s a good excuse to skip the party,” he added, going back in for another when you giggled.
He’d ask you after to stay with him while he read and shared the piece of cake. You’d tell him that you made it from scratch and hurried out of the kitchen so the gang wouldn’t eat it. He’d explain that he cut his hair and put on cologne for you in the hopes of attracting your attention which you told him he already had. And before the night was over, he’d ask you to go to the exhibit with him and to be his girl.
A birthday wish come true.
Have I told you lovelies how much I appreciate you? Because I do. Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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You're a Daydream, Stay A While
jackson!joel miller x younger!reader
summary: you're jackson's designated bartender. well, your dad is, but after the arrival of a new face in town, maybe the inspiration to finally step up to your obligations kicks in.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., oral (f. receiving), fingering, foreplay (mostly breasts), creampie, breeding kink (kinda), angst/comfort, insecure!joel (love touch etcetc starved), needy!joel, pov switch mostly joel (he's down bad as well), collected shitty puns from across the internet like thanos collected the infinity stones
word count: 6,136 words
side note: yk what's worst than simping for old men? simping for old men who don't exist. since y'all know, tlou II trailer dropped, which got me searching for joel's ***** to brace/prepare myself. umm so, why did no one tell me jackson!joel is the hottest thing ever? can´t wait to see pedro being senior citizen level of hot and dying (again) on his bday month! 😍 anyway, this is based on this request and well, yes! i too would flirt with an old ass if he looked like that™ hope u like it bc for some reason I'm not sure of it JSJDLKDFK also 400 followers GUYS STOP (pls don't)
The truth is simple: you hate working.
An apocalypse later, you figure there are more important things. But on Jackson, it feels like the world before fungus and violence, and everyone's got a role to play. As the daughter of Tipsy Bison's owner, yours is to help around the bar, something no matter how much your dad scolds you, you don't seem to care enough to even do a decent job.
Of course, it could be worse: patroling, keeping the cattle or crops, but not even then you're moved enough to give a shit about it.
Enter Joel Miller.
He, who made sure his arrival in Jackson didn't go unnoticed, making heads turn at it, not only because of his emotional reunion with Tommy, the little girl with him, or the fact that he left yet still returned. But also (mainly to you) because he was hot. Very hot.
Joel was the type of handsome that was rough in the edges, his closed-off demeanor and overall mystery adding to the thrill. His face seemed to be in a perpetual state of grief and darkness, sprinkled with grey and wrinkles, that in your opinion, didn't mean about age but just something that made his features all the more attractive.
It was a lie to say there weren't any boys your age in Jackson, good-looking too, yet you felt yourself gravitate towards Joel's musky presence. Yes, he could be your dad, but again, it's the apocalypse, and there are plenty of things to worry about than some age gap.
That doesn't stop the talking, anyway. It may be the end of the world, but gossip is just like cockroaches: it never dies.
The Tipsy Bison owner's daughter is in love with Tommy's older, much older, brother.
It didn't bother you, thought. You were pretty open about it, giving Jackson more to talk. Whenever Joel arrived at the bar, all heads would turn in your direction, ready for the shameless flirting and compliments you showered the oldest Miller in.
Maria had warned you, of course. She was the closest you had to a friend―sometimes being like a big sister, and she seemed to know what he was up to before, at the QZ in Boston, thanks to Tommy. Safe to say, you didn't care, despite listening to every word she had said.
Joel could break your heart, yet in a dying world, you weren't afraid to live.
Which is why now, as he enters the bar, you offer your dad to take his place.
"Go rest, I'll take this client" you offer with kindness, but he knows better. You're his daughter: in the end of the day, he's aware Joel is here, your shift in attitude warning him about Miller's incoming presence.
"If you will take this client, take the rest too" and before your dad can throw a speech about everyone being equal in Jackson, you're accepting to do the job properly, despite your grumbling and lack of interest to anyone who isn't Joel.
"Joel" you greet as soon as he sits, one of the many flirty smiles you have for him only adorning your face. He nods, avoiding your eyes that look at him like he could give you the world. He can't, so he keeps focused on the glass you're pouring in front of him.
"See? Didn't even need to ask. I already know" you seem proud of it, and the ghost of a smile brushes his lips.
"Well" he raises the glass, "it's an easy drink"
You feign hurt, "is that how you treat your bartender? I could poison your drink" Joel now truly smiles, knowing you could never, "or I could just strip you of your my favorite customer rights"
Now he feigns hurt, playing along for the first time in ever.
"Copied" he raises his arms in surrender, not before taking a gulp. You watch hypnotized the way his adam's apple bobs, the liquid sliding down his throat until it looses itself in the peak his two buttons undone give, of what looks to be a broad soft upper body, blessed with a patch of greying messy hair.
"Have they ever complimented you before, Joel?"
You. He refrains from answering, scared as to where little encouraging had led you and your shameless mouth to. He can feel the rest of the people behind him whispering, holes burning his neck. He can't let you win again: make him seem a pathetic excuse of a man who can't say no to a sweet doe-eyed delusional girl.
But you don't stop, despite his silence and the growing pit on your stomach.
"I'll take that as a no. Wanna know why?" he takes a much needed sip, "because all the good pick-up lines are taken"
This he can handle, Joel thinks. It's silly, proper of your age-
"But you aren't"
Ah, of course. Hasn't he learned?
You have the nerve to laugh, free as a wind chime softly carresed by the wind. His face burns, and even thought he's heard plenty of worse from you ("No pen, no paper but you still draw my attention", "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?" "You must be a dog person because you look fetching"), nothing had affected him this much.
Which is why he tries to pull the mask that had accompanied him since he first knew what grief was, so no feeling would ever made him weak again in a world hardened with pain. He's so good at it, wearing it like a second skin that doesn't scrub off no matter how much he wastes Jackson's water supply away, he sometimes sees the way your face is crestfallen at his indifference.
But you're young and stubborn, as so was he, before all the suffering and broken dreams.
So you won't listen to the past or doubts: the moment he stepped a foot into the community, you knew it was over, beating so loud you could barely hear your own breathing or him, when Maria introduced you and he shook your hand with his much bigger one.
"Joel" he'd said, with the sexiest voice you'd ever heard. His hands were covered in gloves, but despite that and the cold winter, the warmth that pooled from his palms had spread across your cheeks and chest. It had taken you a while to realize you hadn't said anything.
"Y/n" you hate the way your voice sounded small.
He nods, a way of saying Nice to meet you in his withdrawn nature. Then walks away, with Tommy and the girl, who looks curiously at you, Joel completely oblivious of how he's just turned your world upside down.
"Welcome to the museum!" you had said.
He tilted his head in confusion, Ellie's stare intense. "I thought this' Jackson?"
"This is a museum, because you're a work of art"
The tip of his ears instantly reddened, and the laugh Ellie was containing bursted like a bottle of champagne.
"Look at you, old man!" she laughed at him, making you wonder their relationship and how closer they seemed to be, despite initial assumptions. "Can't believe a girl gets the big, grumpy, scary Miller to blush like a boy"
You think that's the reason behind his apathy towards you, barely reacting to your pick-up lines or "subtle" flirting. It's probably not a reason as childish as that, but you'd rather be wrong than accept he may never feel the same way you do.
Because for a moment, despite the times you lived in, life made sense.
So no matter the stares, Joel's guarded posture and lack of reciprocation, you'll always be there, waiting: riding the roller coaster, enjoying the high.
The speed brings you closer, even if that means you'll crash.

Unfortunately for Joel, he knows who you are.
He's not even ten patrolling jobs closer to owning a bottle of whiskey of his own (he thinks earning it is bullshit, hasn't he done already enough?), so he's forced to go to the only place where he can get it.
And of course, there's you: a name and face he couldn't place upon his arrival, even if you had introduced yourself with your shitty line (which made him blush and Ellie laugh, so maybe it was a grudge what made him bent on removing you from his head) yet now is ingraned into his mind.
He doesn't know what's worst: your flirting or the fact that you seemed genuine about it. Or maybe it's the fact that he can tell you apart from the rest now, with a face full of life, always ready to give him your best smile and serve his glass the way he likes.
He needs to be the bigger person in this mess and stop it, Joel thinks. He isn't one to care about the talking, years of being brutal hiding any possible feeling that isn't rage. But then Ellie smuggled her way in his life, he found Tommy again, and Jackson was a reminder of old days when he would allow himself to feel anything else. So, in a way, he's become a bit susceptible to the talking behind his back.
How could he entertain a girl that could be his daughter? hushed, behind his stool. But then your fingers brush "accidentally", and his dick twitches between his legs when you bite your lip, pronouncing a Sorry like no one has said before: a tone so low and sultry, he's convinced wasn't even possible. Then you bat your eyelashes, and laugh (a sound both as delightful as addictive) before you're saying: "Don't mind them. They're just jealous you've got all my attention" and for a brief second, Joel let's himself believe he's special and worth of your time.
It's now a while since he's been there in Jackson, slowly settling into a life that doesn't involve running and fear.
If he thought your little crush was a phase, he's wrong.
You're still giving him time.
He's not supposed to get attached to you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria (future nephew in the way) more than enough. But then, when he's alone in a house too big for two people, Joel misses the way your loud voice fills the eerie silence that's followed him since death has been tracking his every step. Or how your interest on his life doesn't seem an act, listening to every word he says with tender eyes and soft smile, sometimes even making the effort of bringing things he's said before into new conversations; remembering. His heart flutter at your compliments, no matter how dumb they are, probably because he's not used to that stuff. As he lays awake at night, brain clogged with wounds too deep to bear, he finds comfort in things he has a feeling he's too old to get worked up about.
"Joel" you had said one day. God, he loved his name on your lips. The way you say it so sure, as if you'd follow him wherever he'd go.
He coughs. "Yeah?" and you smile, because at least he's looking in your direction.
"The chance of meeting a person like you is the only reason I talk to strangers"
The way your tone was straight, not flinching or faltering scared him. How something akin to sincerity dancing in the sparkles of your eyes, that now seemed to waver not out of whimsy but out of vulnerability, perfectly hidden in what could pass as another one of your attempts to woo him, but Joel's lived and seen enough to know it means much more.
So now, whenever there's darkness, he finds light on replaying those small moments on his head.
Dear God. What's he become? Ellie can't find out or he'll never hear the end of it.
But this things you don't know. All you see is a wall, and you're getting tired of hitting it.
The few words he spares your way are now a punishment you endure, cruel reminder that it's all you'll ever get.
Could you be in love forever? Could you even love?
It was a new feeling. Foreign, in fields of inexperience, but familiars in others. You may have never felt it, but the way your beat was steady when he showed up, worn out boots against the wood creaking under his weight, makes you believe when you know, you know.
"Hello, Joel" your father greets before you speak. Today, no matter how much you tried to shoo him away, he stayed.
You send a small smile his way, but he doesn't return it. You feel small, like a kid, undeserving of his attention. There's a bit of relief knowing your dad's there, so you let him take Joel for you.
There's always a first, and when both your dad and Joel notice, the latter feels a little sting on his chest.
But he's caused this, he thinks. It's what he wanted, after all: for you to stop chasing a man with scars in and out, bearing sins and blood where you had innocence and love.
"We're having a party tonight" he comments, making Joel quirk an eyebrow as he sips.
He gives you a brief glimpse, lost in the curve of your ass in those tight jeans, you giving him your back. He dryly scoffs on instinct at your deliberate choice to ignore him.
"Why's that?"
"My daughter's birthday"
He sees your body tense in the corner of his eye, wiping the glass in your hand with a bit too much force.
"Happy birthday" Joel speaks up, and you mutter a weak Thanks.
That's all he gets? No smile, no looking his way. Just a dry thank you that sounds more like something he would say.
Oh.
Was this how you felt?
"Time sure flies by" your dad sighs nostalgic, completely oblivious to the whole thing. "I feel if it was yesterday we came home from the hospital with you"
You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes, despite the obvious adoration for your dad.
"Don't get sappy on me" you sound embarrassed.
"I don't care. Twenty-one years later and an apocalypse in the mix, you're still my baby"
"Dad!" your cheeks heat up, and Joel almost forgets he's there, his body back to life when your face goes back to its normal color and happiness.
"Which means" your dad goes back to Joel, "you're invited"
Your laughter dies and Joel's chest tightens.
"You need to stop saying that. All Jackson is invited" you respond, making him flinch. The bite is obvious.
You're not special, is what you try to say in between lines.
"I'll be there" tone daring, and your father feels something has shifted in the air.
You don't answer after that. What are you supposed to say? Don't come? I hate you for making me feel small? He doesn't owe you anything, but it still hurts.
"It's at seven" there's a sharp edge to your tone when looking at him.
"I'll be there" he repeats, still, but it sounds more like who he really is trying to convince is himself.

Joel is there, as promised. You don't know why, but after what happened earlier, for the first time ever, seeing him brings you dread.
He catches you in a corner, sipping on some drink.
"Hi" it's soft, the tone new, and it doesn't help the pit in your stomach.
"Hey"
"Why are you here?" he's curious., "ain't this supposed to be your party?"
It's funny, really. The way everyone else mingles around you, laugh and talk, yet here you are, bitter inside the shadows of your corner.
You raise your glass and chuckle dryly. "Well, cheers to that"
"You shouldn't be here" he insists, and you roll your eyes. Then, his voice goes soft. "Is... Is this because of me?"
You scoff, venom falling out of your bitter laugh. "Wow, big ego you got there. Newsflash: the world doesn't revolve around you"
He's so used to your pinning, it's hard to bear the change.
"I wasn't saying that, I just-"
"Please don't" you cut him off. "Don't ruin my birthday more than you already have, thanks"
You decide to walk away, but Joel won't let you.
"I don't want that" he insists, blocking your steps. "I want you to be happy"
"Don't bullshit me" your tone is icy, cutting like daggers. "Please, leave me alone"
"Not until you're fine"
You scoff at his incomprehensible behavior.
"Oh, now you care? Drop the act; you're just angry I'm not stroking your ego anymore like a lovesick puppy. Truth is, you don't owe me anything, Joel"
He looks like you've slapped him across his face.
"I know" his voice darkens, filled with tension. "But-"
You get tired at Joel's sudden insistence, overwhelming you with confusion. This is the same guy that has uttered less than fifty words your way, indifferent to your flirting and special treatment. Of course, it may have been a little silly of you to expect so much from a guy older even than your dad, but his apathy was borderline rude, and that you can't excuse. Or understand. Or let go.
So yes, you're being petty. And yes, it also feels good to have him begging to have your attention, the roles reversed.
"But what, Joel? Is there anything you can say, really? It's not that serious" you empty the glass in a chug, feeling dizzy. "Live a little and stop being so obssesed with me"
He shoots you a look hard to decipher. There is hurt: from all the emotions available, he chose the one thing you didn't think he'd be capable of feeling. Hell, he looked rather more like the cause than the affected on the other end. But then auburn fires flash behind his eyes, and the circle repeats itself, the danger and rage Maria warned you about.
"Obssesed with you?" his eyes carry a wild light in them. "If anyone is obssesed, well, it ain't me"
"I need air" you push past him, done with his shit.
"I'm sorry-"
The cold wind hits your face as you storm outside the bar. Is this a lesson to be learnt? Was this how heartbreak felt? The only thing you know is you need to get the farthest you can, even if your footsteps feel heavy with the weight of the snowed streets and frigidness of your heart.
"Y/n, wait!"
You turn around. Unbelievable: Joel Miller is running after you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Joel?!" you shout, "why can't you just leave me alone?!"
"Because I-"
"There's nothing for you to say" you counter, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "If this is some sort of guilt thing, I need you to let it go. What I did- I mean, you should probably forget about the whole thing. It's my fault, and I'm sorry my reaction is immature and what not, but I should've known to read the signs. You're simply not interested in a girl who hasn't truly lived or known what pain is"
After you confession, you hear a laugh. You raise your eyes, anger and hurt flashing in tears.
"And you have the nerve to fucking laugh?! Fuck you, Joel" you want to walk away to save yourself from further embarrasment yet your feet seem to be stuck.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm not interested?" you roll your eyes, but he pins you by your shoulders, as if knowing you'd walk away. "Listen, I need you to know somethin': I'm not who you think I am"
"I don't care" you interrupt, defiant. "You're right, I don't know who you are. But I want to. Who you where outside this walls... It doesn't matter, not to me. You did what you had to do to survive, and that brought you here. Jackson... think of it as a second chance. You can still be happy, you know?"
With me, dies in your throat, not wanting to give more of yourself away.
"It's better this way" Joel insists, "hell, you'll even thank me one day. There's plenty of young boys here who'd love to be with you, trust me"
"I don't want them, Joel. What's so hard to understand?" what makes you get closer to him, you don't know, but in a sudden rush of force, you find the courage to look at him, body standing still as you exhale, fears condense in the air. "I only want you"
"You don't" you should roll your eyes again at his stubborn character, but his voice comes out so small, almost as if resignated, that it tugs your chest.
"I do" you reply firmly, cupping his cheek with tender care. He leans in your touch, despite it revealing his true desires when it comes to you.
"Why me?" Joel whispers, bigger hand covering yours, as to prove it's real and the warmth isn't a joke. "Why not a younger, charmin', happy boy your age? Why a broken violent older man?"
His voice breaks after the admission, quietly seeping into heavy silence that falls like the snowflakes in his hair.
"Joel" you call his name softly, making those sad brown eyes look at you. You gulp, nervous at the storm of emotions inside them, "is it so hard to believe you can be loved?"
Your words make him falter, his grip loosing strength as he tumbles back.
"Love?" he repeats with disbelief, as if you'd just say some kind of tale. "There isn't love in this world left for me. Men like me don't deserve good things, especially if they comin' from a pretty girl as yourself"
You shouldn't be blushing at times like this, but the maroon splash on your cheeks betrays you, warm as the drink from before and red as the dim lights casted by Jackson's Christmas tree in the middle of the town.
"Joel" you call again, and he's surprised you're still there. That you hadn't turn your back on him, or looked into his eyes and saw the monster in him, running away to never come back.
"If you let me" you hold his hands to steady him even as they tremble, "I could"
I could love you.
The promise hangs unspoken in the air, the wind now barely above a humming.
"You'd take me" his voice falters, "with all I've done, knowing I've hurted people?" Killed people, but he can't bring himself to say it when you look at him like that: like he could learn to love you.
"Yes" your voice doesn't waver a bit, "every part of you"
"And you'd take me knowin' that I'm years ahead in hurt, age and life?"
"Yes, Joel" you giggle. "Are you making me do an exam on your life? Because that's not fair, you've barely spoken to me, or anyone else for the matter!"
He chuckles, shaking his head.
"I s'ppose life ain't fair, sometimes"
"But it could be" the moonlight of the now clear sky shines over your eyes, and Joel is sure that the stars would be jealous.
"It could" he repeats, as to believe it himself.
Silence settles again, but it doesn't feel suffocating anymore.
"You know, we should probably get inside"
You dissmiss his words. "Nobody has even noticed we're gone"
"What about the cake?"
Your chest feels warm at his concern. He may not believe it, but the old-world Joel, the one who was a contractor in Texas and had a daughter, is still there, somewhere.
"Jackson is real, but miracles not" you laugh, "we don't have those. The party really is just an excuse for dad to drink with his friends during labor hours"
"And yours?" Joel inquires, "where your friends at?"
"Left early" then you lean to his ear, hot where skin meets cold. "I told them to"
He tries, but all words die on his throat.
"Wanna know why I did it?" your fingers wander to his tense jawline, tracing your sharp nails until they descent to his neck, sprinkled with loose hairs from his beard.
"Why?" voice barely above a whisper, his cock painfully hard between his legs. That you don't know: just the glint of dark on his hazel eyes.
"Why don't we find out?" and your hand takes his to lead the way. When he doesn't move, you try other way.
"I'm the birthday girl" you tease softly, but your orbs sparkle with something akin to dangerous. "You better make it up to me"

You've walked this road so many times, yet it's never felt longer.
The house is alone, you'd say, and Joel followed you because well, he'd follow you anywhere. He notices you said 'house', an indicator you still live with your parents. He wonders if you're embarrased, but by the way you smile, inviting him inside, to a part of you intimate and unknown until today, he knows he's chosen right.
When you open the door, cold creeps in through the cracks of warmth. You lead the way to your room, and once you're inside, he thinks it's very you.
"Very me?" you giggle, taking a seat in the bed. Joel watches from the doorframe, his bulky arms crossed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's cute" and you think it's not a frequent word in his vocabulary, thanks to the pink dusting his cheeks.
"I'm cute?" you repeat delighted, and the shade of pink turns darker.
He just nods, avoiding your gaze.
"Joel" you call, then pat the spot next to you "why are you so far away? Are you scared?"
He grumbles something under his breath before walking over to where you showed. The bed creaks under his weight, and now that he's closer, you hear the wavering beat of his heart and ragged breaths.
"You are scared" you repeat, a statement now. He thinks you're mocking him, until your sure hand grabs his. "It's okay"
Before he can add on that, your face is too close, your breath tickling over his nose. He feels the moist of your lips press over the brigde of it, with a tenderness that brings ghosts of tears he has since long shade to his eyes.
Then they smoothly move to catch him in a kiss. He lets out a shaky gasp against your mouth, letting himself loose on the whiskey drops inside, an intoxicating mix against his own. His hands find your waist, gripping the soft skin with calloused fingers, refusing to leave it. He squeezes your curves while infiltrating your mouth with his tongue, until he pulls to breath, making you whine.
"Fuck, sweetheart" he nips your lower lip, "ain't you the sweetest thin' to ever exist?"
The kiss gets more heated, his hands now traveling to your face as they hold onto you for support, rough digits meeting peachy skin. Just the mere act of kissing makes him groan against you, too old to be shameful about the needy sounds coming out of his mouth.
"Joel" you whimper his name. He stops and takes the time to bore his gaze over your flushed face, your own dazed eyes mirroring his.
His fingers find their way to your hips again, pulling you closer. The moment caughts you and the bed off guard, the furniture creaking while your eyes move to the hardness visible on his worn-out jeans. You move your head to free your mouth to talk, but that doesn't stop Joel, who hungrily kisses the trace of your jaw and the road starting in your neck and finishing on your collarbones.
"Is that because of me?" Joel whines against your lips, yet you can't stop staring at the very big silhouette. "Oh, happy birthday to me"
Joel whines when you tear way from him, his hands loosing grasp on your body. You move up against the headboard, spreading your legs for him to put himself in between them.
You take off your clothes, and his eyes don't leave your body as if it's a show for him. He can drool at the sight of your breasts, rosy skin waiting for his tongue and teeth to sink on it. He leans closer, eyes looming at moles he could beg to kiss.
Now you, your expectant eyes plea. Joel's posture adquires a guarded air, as he grows self-conscious.
"Stop staring at me like that" he nervously chuckles.
"Is there something wrong?" your sweet voice inquires, laced with concern. He gulps, kind of afraid and embarrased of what you would say.
"I'm..." his voice comes out strained, "I just-"
His mind briefly wanders to Tess, how she never said anything, rather busy seeking the warmth of his body without commenting about it. The act mattered over the feelings, which where in her eyes but not his heart. But now, his heart beats in a different sound, one where he wishes you won't judge a body crossed with the roughness of scars yet the softness of extra weight.
"M' just warnin' you, doll" the nickname brings butterflies in your stomach, "this body's seen better days"
He removes the layers of clothing: flannel first, and then tight white long sleeved shirt. He's left in his jeans, unbuckling his belt that falls to the floor with a thud. His breathing turns to panting, afraid to meet you in the eye.
"Joel" you repeat his name, bringing him back to reality. "Look at me"
He's killed people, faced raiders as much as infected, and other countless things, so he dares himself to look up, breath hitching when he finds you eating him with your eyes.
"Fuck, Joel. I didn't know you were so pretty under those dirty ass flannels"
You knew he'd be handsome; that's literally the reason why you chose to flirt with him. But now that he's completely stripped off his layers of warm clothing, it's even better. You can't stop your hungry eyes from roaming his body, lingering on the soft swell of his stomach, hanging over the waistband of his underwear. A scar that looks deep is near his belly button, and you wonder if he'll ever tell you why. There's a patch of hair over his soft chest your tongue wants to lick. And of course, his strong arms packed with broad shoulders that make you want to scream.
"Stop lying" he chastises, but there's a smile adorning his features. A true smile on Joel fucking Miller's face. What a rare sight; you need to see it more.
"W-where your condoms?" he asks, nervous.
That catches you off guard, too busy cooing over how a man so big and sturdy could fold that easily, looking and sounding small.
"I'm not sure. I mean, maybe on my parents room but I-"
You cut yourself. Joel's concerned gaze finds you. "Yes?"
"I want you, Joel" the intensity of your stare terrifies him. "All of you"
He falls closer to you, forehead against your own. He can't bring himself to look at you, so he closes his eyes and dares to ask:
"Are you sure you want this?"
Are you sure you want me?
"Don't you trust me?" you're all smiles, even if your voice is soft. "I want you. I truly do"
He's hiding his face into your shoulder until you feel his lips pressing against your now bare skin, making you shiver.
"Where you want me, birthday girl?" he says between kisses. "Tell me, sweetheart. I'm all ears"
"Please, Joel" you unhook your bra, letting your breasts free. His lips begin to kiss his way to your breasts, tongue teasing the skin before nipping it. Joel's teeth catch the hardened nipple, grazing it lightly.
"S'pretty" he sounds drunk, and you love the way he looses himself in the pleasure haze.
He continues kissing your breasts before positioning himself right so he can hover above you. The kisses turn wet and sloppier, as if all his energy was to be spent into the rosy skin.
"Can I taste you, sweetheart?" he lowers his head to your entrance, already soaking wet with your arousal. "Fuck me, if this ain't a meal"
"The best in all Jackson" you joke, but the laugh dies in your throat when Joel's nose ghosts over your throbbing pussy.
"I- fuck, Joel" you moan when he licks your folds, his tongue an expert. For a brief moment, you think of who came before you, and if this is what they got or you're getting the best version. His saliva mixes with your dripping juices, making you whine as his tongue licks your swollen folds. His fingers then slowly inserted themselves inside at the same time, moving in and out of your puffy walls. His groans mix with the sound of your whines and the furniture creaking, the sounds obscene and feeling so far from the outside world.
"You're so good at this, baby" his sweat mixes with the blush on his face because of the nickname, nose pressed against your clit as he keeps up the ministrations. "D-don't stop"
"This pussy's so pretty" he says, "and s'only for me, yeah?"
"Yes, Joel. Only yours" you whine, your orgasm approaching. All of your body feels on fire, every touch inching the burn in your stomach closer as his head remains between your legs, tongue insatiable. You come all over his face, your hands digging into his damp locks as you scream his name to the air.
Joel raises his head to capture your lips on a wet kiss, the taste of you inside your mouth and dripping from his coated beard.
"Ain't you sweet" you open your legs further. "You're such a tease, sweetheart. Gon'be the death of me"
"I just like seeing you like this" you admit.
"Means?"
"So fucking needy"
A borderline primal grumble births from his throat. "You've a filthy mouth on you, sweetheart" he chuckles while wrapping your legs around his waist and lining himself up. Joel's tip runs up and down your folds, grazing your clit long enough to make you gasp.
"And you're s'fuckin' tight" he mumbles under his breath. You gasp for air as you try to adjust yourself to the huge size of his girth, afraid you bit more than what you can chew. His pace starts slow but gradually picks up a rougher and quicker pace. Joel grunts between thrusts, yet takes his time to make sure his lips kiss every mole sprinkled across your face and chest, his favorite just above your left eyebrow.
"I want ya' to come first, like a present" blush crosses through his face again. He leaves teasing kisses against your face, as you wail, finally hitting you.
"I'll wait for you" you whisper, your hips aiding you to sustain his sloppy thrusts, "want you to come too. Inside"
You feel his softening dick twitch, suddenly rock hard again. Oh, so he was into that.
"Don't worry, I have a pill" you explain. "So go ahead, pretty boy. Show me if the size matches the talk"
"Bet" his voice acquires a darkness to it. "Gonna fill you with all of it, until you milk my cock dry. Gonna fill this pretty pussy until it's full of my seed and it leaks for days"
He follows right after, groaning into your shoulder, where he bits the skin. His tongue wets the area, to relief the pain, yet you like it. Thick ropes of cum paint your puffy heat creamy, Joel panting as he stares down at you.
"What?" you chuckle.
Maybe Jackson was a safe haven. Heaven incarnate. Maybe second chances were real, and for the first time in years, he feels safe.
"I don't deserve you" he voices his thoughts, forehead pressed against yours as he tries to even his breathing, yet each breath seems more labored than the last.
Your hands travel to his face, cupping it with tender hands. He leans on the touch, because despite his crimes and past dawning upon him, he's a man: one seeking comfort on a pretty face and anything that'll remind him of distant emotions that can still exist despite what the world has become. Joel's hands travel to yours, thumb brushing skin free of scars and pain. He envies and loves the beauty in your face, eyes full of something akin to affection looking back, blurring the pain mirrored on his own. You kiss him again, and he can feel the emotions in the tip of your tongue.
"You're wrong" your voice holds a quiet determination. Time was a precious gift, but in Jackson, time could be, and the resolve longing tells him you'll be there. I'm not going anywhere, Joel. Not without you. "We all deserve love, Joel"
Joel Miller is a man who finds it hard to trust, yet, when he takes a look at your eyes―warm as rum, he allows himself to believe in you.
cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#jackson!joel miller#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou joel
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cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou
✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.
✮ wc ; 1k
✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3
✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.
He can hear Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.
And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.
The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.
He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.
Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?
Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.
His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen
(sent 11:12am) coming down :]
Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.
(sent 11:12am) missed you <3
He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.
(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.
That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.
He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.
You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.
"Hey,"
"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."
"No shit."
You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.
"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.
Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."
Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.
He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.
"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."
You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.
You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.
"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.
"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"
?!
Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.
"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."
"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.
"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"
"You made it for me."
"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"
"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.
"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't gotta say sorry either."
"But,"
"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."
You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"
He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."
"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.
"Hm?"
You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.
"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."
He's in so deep. Fuck.
"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.
"You love me,"
Maybe he's an idiot too.
"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

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Hello! I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you have any thoughts on Howard Schubiner's Unlearn Your Pain, Mind Body Syndrome, treating neuroplastic symptoms, etc.? I was just referred to a pain management group that centers around these concepts, and I'm having some Feelings about the whole thing.
Just wondering if you've had any experiences with this type of treatment, or thoughts about its effectiveness. Thanks!
Okay, so this is going to be long, and I'm going to need you to stick with me through the tangent. I promise it's relevant.
I haven't read Howard Schubiner's work directly, but his colleague Alan Gordon was a key speaker at the Migraine World Summit this year. I found his talk interesting enough to buy his book and do some more research on my own, and I found it worthwhile pursuing on my own.
I know enough from my mast cell disorder to know that the body develops 'bad habits' around pain.
In the case of anxiety, stress, or panic, mast cells become more reactive, and this can make pain worse. This is true for everyone*; it's just those of us with MCAS or some other type of mast cell disorder who have more alarming symptoms like idiopathic anaphylaxis.
So, unfortunately, if I, as someone with MCAS, experience an acute pain from an injury or illness, the inherent stress response of the pain and the out-of-balance response from my nervous system can make my mast cells degranulate. They're little fuckers like that.
Mast cells can also put your body on an inflammatory cycle that is counterproductive to healing. They can literally get trained to anticipate reactions and pre-emptively react, because again, they are little fuckers.
To give you an example of this for me: my major migraines, the ones that land me in the hospital, occur on the dot every ten days. There are no hormonal factors to this that can be found or other consistent triggers or stressors, but I was unknowingly being exposed to an MCAS trigger roughly every ten days for a while. When I realized, I removed the trigger, obviously. Problem solved, right? Unfortunatley no. By then, my mast cells had trained themselves into a new pattern, and the migraine now is both the response and the trigger. It's some bastard thing called Innate Immune Memory. But it's also, partly, my subconscious anticipating the event and priming my body for a reaction, which I am susceptible to because of my MCAS and dysautonomia, which is a type of nervous system disorder.
And this is where the neuroplasticity comes in.
I'm currently in the process of trying to unlearn this response and better regulate my nervous system, which unfortunately makes me sound like a TikTok girly with a link in bio to sell you cortisol healing tea, but I promise you the only thing I'm interesting in shilling is my smutty vampire books. (And this post will be how some people learn I write books)
Anyway, why am I bothering to explain mast cell dysfunction like this in relation to neuroplasticity?
Because, yeah, if a pain doctor handed me a leaflet about 'unlearning pain' and I didn't understand how my body is routinely sabotaging itself on a cellular level in response to acute and neuroplastic pain, I'd also be rolling my eyes and feeling like I've just been handed a bottle of snake oil in the market.
God knows I've been handed 'mindfullness' leaflets by enough shitty doctors who don't actually understand what it means when we say "stress affects the nervous system" and just assume the patient is inventing symptoms to be annoying.
Thankfully, that is not what this is. At least I am hoping the doctor sending you there doesn't think you are causing your own pain. What they are hopefully trying to do is introduce you to something that a lot of chronic pain patients are reporting helps them feel more in control of their lives after many years of feeling at the mercy of their pain.
I don't attend the sessions at my brain injury clinic (yet), but I do know they use neuroplasticity therapy to help amputees with the phantom pain they experience from missing limbs. My physical therapist spent an entire session singing its virtues to me while I was fighting for my life on a balance board. Which is also why I decided to look into it after I heard Gordon talking at the Migraine World Summit.
So, do I think Schubiner's methods are hokum?
No, I think there's a lot of merit to the things he talks about and explains, but I also know the only reason I think that is because of the insight I have into the brain-body bundle through the experiences of my mast cell disease that has taught me there is nothing the brain is incapable of fucking up.
Do I think targeting neuroplastic pain will work well for everyone?
No. I think you need to try it and see if it's a good fit for you.
Some people who attended the World Migraine Summit think it's snake oil/just another way for pain doctors to foist us off into the realm of mental health care. Conversely, other people won't shut up about how learning to break the cycle of fear and panic around their pain has been life-altering for them.
For me, it's been more subtle and is part of a broader spectrum of therapies and medical treatment I use to keep my nervous system in check. It certainly hasn't done me any harm. If anything, I found it quite validating to hear someone say, "Oh, the pain is in your head? Of course it is. Let's try to fix that," and then gave me actionable coping methods. They might not work profoundly in the long term. I'm still a sick bitch with multiple acute causes of my pain. But it's also not harming me the way mindfulness was (many chronic pain patients can find it traumatizing).
I will say, I am concerned that some doctors will use the treatment of neuroplastic pain to dismiss treating acute pain with physical causes.
Just like how mindfulness has been abused by an overworked, underfunded medical system not equipped to handle chronic patients, there's also the risk of neuroplastic therapy being tossed over the fence in a similar fashion as a last ditch Hail Mary to treat patients they don't have time for. But I don't think it's widespread enough yet for that to be the case.
I dunno. Give it a try. If it's not for you, it's not for you.
Personally, I hate anything that revolves around group therapy, but I did find the book "The Way Out" by Alan Gordon insightful in helping me figure some things out. Maybe see if your local library has it before you drop money on any sessions?
_ _ _
*There has also been more compelling evidence recently that suggests that chronic pain conditions like fibromyalgia are also affected by wonky mast cells. Also arthritis.
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"Did the love affair maim you too?"
Joel miller x f!reader
next part

Summary: Joel doesn't like you until he loses all his memories.
w.c: 14k> (longest piece I've written and my eyes are dry)
warnings: fluff, mention of amnesia, memory loss, ANGST and angst, and more angst because I love angst. There is smut but you already know I'm bad at writing that. No proof reading, I'm lazy, sorry.
a/n: hello! I got inspired by this "memory loss" type of story. It was supposed to be a one shoot, but I had to split the whole thing so another part is more likely to happen. I know there has been some drama surrounding writers and I want to say that every single person who writes and makes an art with that is amazing! Everyone who is reading this, please give creators here your flowers. With that being said, Happy reading or not 😭💌 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. (come on, talk to me)
dividers by @saradika-graphics
Joel didn't used to hate women, but man, when he met you for the first time, you crawled under his skin. He had fun with you, making jokes, trying to get on your nerves. For his hell, everyone in Jackson loved you; after all, you were the nurse and the sweetheart. Always looking after everyone, always being sweet to everyone.
It was a sunny afternoon when you first arrived in Jackson, your kind demeanor and skilled hands quickly gaining the trust and admiration of the townsfolk. Joel watched from a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He couldn't understand why everyone was so taken with you. To him, you seemed too soft, too gentle for the brutal world they lived in.
"Hey, Joel," Tommy called out one day, pulling Joel from his brooding thoughts. "We're heading out on patrol. You should meet the new nurse. She's something else."
Joel grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He didn't need to meet you to know what kind of person you were. In his mind, you were just another naive newcomer who wouldn't last a week.
But fate had other plans. That very evening, a group of raiders attacked the outer perimeter. The town was thrown into chaos, and Joel found himself side by side with you, defending the walls. He couldn't help but notice your bravery and the way you handled yourself under pressure.
After the attack, as the town counted its injuries and losses, you worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded. Joel watched you, his irritation growing as he saw the way everyone fawned over you, thanking you for your care.
"Think you're some kind of hero, huh?" Joel muttered as he approached you, his voice laced with sarcasm.
You looked up at him, exhaustion evident in your eyes, but you offered a small, tired smile. "Just doing my job, Joel."
"Your job?" Joel scoffed. "You think patching up a few cuts and bruises is going to keep these people safe? This world doesn't care how sweet you are."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "And what would you have me do, Joel? Let them suffer? We're all trying to survive here, and we all have our roles to play."
Joel huffed and walked away, but your words lingered in his mind. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that you were right. Over the following weeks, Joel continued to watch you, his annoyance slowly giving way to a grudging respect. He noticed how you never backed down, how you always stood your ground, even when faced with his relentless jabs.
One day, during a particularly harsh winter storm, you and Joel were sent out on a supply run. The weather was brutal, and the path was treacherous. As the wind howled around you, Joel found himself instinctively moving closer, his protective instincts kicking in despite his irritation.
"Watch your step," he warned, his voice gruff.
You nodded, shivering against the cold. "Thanks, Joel."
As you both trudged forward, the wind picked up, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. You focused on placing one foot in front of the other, barely able to see Joel a few steps ahead. Suddenly, you heard a sharp crack and a thud.
"Joel!" you shouted, fear gripping your heart.
Rushing forward, you found Joel lying on the ground, unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He must have slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock hidden beneath the snow.
Panic set in, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You needed to get him back to Jackson quickly. You checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady, then did your best to bandage the wound with the supplies you had. With great effort, you managed to lift Joel and drape him over your shoulder, carrying him back through the storm.
By the time you reached Jackson, you were exhausted and freezing, but you didn't stop until you got Joel to the infirmary. The doctors took over, treating his wound and monitoring his condition.
You sat by Joel's bedside, watching him closely. Hours passed, and eventually he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented.
"Joel?" you said softly, leaning forward.
He turned his head to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. But then, a slow, almost lazy smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Did I die and wake up in heaven?"
You blink, taken aback by his words. "Uh, Joel, it's me. Do you remember what happened?"
Joel's smile didn't waver as he looked at you. "I remember everything... except meeting you before. Are you sure we haven't met in a dream?"
You glanced at Tommy, who had just walked into the room, and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. "Joel," Tommy said cautiously, stepping closer, "do you know who I am?"
Joel's eyes shifted to Tommy, his smile fading into a look of mild frustration. "Of course I do, Tommy. You're my brother. But I'm more interested in getting to know this doll here."
Tommy exchanged bewildered looks with you. "Joel, this is… Ah. She's... well, you two never really got along."
Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, I must've been an idiot then because I can't imagine not liking someone like you."
Your heart raced, unsure how to respond to this flirtatious side of Joel, the same who hours ago was trying to crawl under your skin, the same one who had rejected you all this time. "Joel, you really don't remember me at all?"
Joel shook his head, still gazing at you with that same enamored look. "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time, and I like what I see."
Tommy scratched his head, clearly at a loss. "This is... something else. We need to figure out what happened to his memory."
You nodded, trying to process the sudden shift in Joel's demeanor. You knew the hit on the head did something to his memory, but you didn’t know how to face it. "Joel, you hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said you might have some memory loss. Maybe this is part of it."
Joel reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, if forgetting the past means I get to start over with you, I think I can live with that."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place. Perhaps butterflies are flying all around inside your tummy. "We'll take it slow, okay? There's a lot you need to know."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "As long as you're the one teaching me, I'm all in."
Tommy coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. "Alright, let's give Joel some time to rest and recover. We'll figure this out together."
You nodded, reluctantly pulling your hand away from Joel's. "Get some rest, Joel. We'll talk more later."
As you and Tommy left the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of Joel's gaze following you. Tommy put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Just... be careful. He's not the same Joel right now."
You nodded, your mind racing with the implications of Joel's memory loss and his sudden interest in you. The days ahead were sure to be challenging, but you couldn't deny the flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to know this new, more open version of Joel.
A version where he could get to know you and maybe, like, a new story waiting to be written with the both of you becoming friends, and not just acquaintances just having to tolerate each other for the community’s sake.
The days following Joel's accident were a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected emotions dancing on your mind. Joel's flirtatious comments and affectionate demeanor were a stark contrast to the gruff, often combative man you had known before.
You had started to get used to feeling his nice demeanor towards you. You found yourself happier than before, smiling at the thought of him when you weren’t with him, and he had become your last thought on your bed just before going to sleep, but you were aware his condition perhaps wasn’t permanent and he was going to recover his memories of you, so you didn’t want to take advantage of that, nor did you want to fall for Joel, not when the fear of him waking up one day and hating you as usual was a threat.
His recovery was slow but steady, and you spent a lot of time by his side, helping him piece together the fragments of his memory. Every interaction felt like walking on fire, with Joel's behavior making your heart flutter and your mind racing at thousand miles per hour.
As you were changing the bandage on his head, Joel watched you with a soft smile. "You know, you have the gentlest touch. It's like you're an angel sent to take care of me."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, Joel. Making sure your pretty head heals properly."
Joel reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're more than just a nurse to me now. I don't know what it is, but I feel this connection with you. Like we're meant to be."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Joel, a few days ago I was nothing to you. You don’t remember me, so please just focus on getting better."
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with earnestness. "I get it, but I can't help how I feel. This connection—it's real to me, even if I don't remember our past."
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. "Joel, you're vulnerable right now. Your mind is trying to make sense of everything, and it's confusing. We need to take things slow."
Joel nodded reluctantly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pulled it back. "I trust you. Just know that I'm here, and I want to get to know you, past or no past."
You gave him a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, okay? Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."
Just then, Tommy walked in, carrying a tray of food. He cleared his throat, causing you to step back from Joel. "Brought you some lunch, big brother. How’re you feeling?"
Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of his brother. "Thanks, Tommy. I'm feeling better every day. And with this sunshine here, it's hard not to feel good."
Tommy gave you a knowing look, his concern evident. "Glad to hear it. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" he asked, looking towards you.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Of course, Tommy."
As you stepped outside the room, Tommy closed the door behind you, his expression serious. "How are you holding up?"
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It's... complicated. Joel is so different now. He's kind, attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in me. But he doesn't remember our past—how much we clashed."
Tommy nodded, his face lined with concern. "I can see how that would be confusing. But you have to be careful. This might just be his way of coping with the memory loss. He's latching onto the one constant he has right now—you."
You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I'm trying to keep my distance, but it's hard. He's... he's different, Tommy. And I can't deny that I'm starting to care for him."
Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I get it. But you need to remember that his memory might come back, and when it does, he could revert to the Joel we knew before. You have to protect yourself, too."
“Am I that unlovable?” you sighed.
Tommy's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not unlovable. Far from it. But the Joel we knew before... he had his walls up, and you know how stubborn he can be. If his memory comes back, he might go back to those old habits, those old defenses."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I understand. It's just... complicated."
Tommy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slow. Don't rush into anything, and remember to take care of yourself too. You suffered a lot before arriving here."
You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tommy. I needed that."
Tommy smiled back. "Anytime."
Returning to Joel's room, you found him sitting up, his eyes lighting up as you walked in. "Hey, everything okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just had a chat with Tommy."
Joel's expression became thoughtful. "You know, I'm really grateful for everything you're doing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like, dealing with me like this."
You sat down beside him, taking a deep breath. "It's not easy, Joel, but it's worth it. You're worth it."
Joel reached out, taking your hand in his. "You know, even though I don't remember everything, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. And I like what I see."
Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. "Joel, we need to take things slow. Focus on your recovery first."
Joel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I understand. But I can't help how I feel."
He has repeated the same phrase as before, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself diving into a deep ocean for him.
You squeezed his hand gently. "One step at a time, okay?"
Joel's eyes held a determined glint. "One step at a time."
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Jackson settlement as you walked briskly toward the main gate, your medical bag slung over your shoulder. You spotted Joel waiting for you, his arms crossed and a scowl already etched on his face.
"You're late," he growled as you approached.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm five minutes late, Joel. I had to take care of a kid with a fever."
Joel grunted, clearly unimpressed. "We have a schedule for a reason. Being late puts us at risk."
"Don't lecture me about risk," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "I know the dangers out there just as well as you do."
Joel's eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because sometimes it feels like you're too soft for this world. Always stopping to help every stray animal and sick kid."
"Excuse me for having a heart," you snapped. "Not everyone wants to live like a damn machine."
"Having a heart can get you killed," Joel retorted, his voice rising. "Out there, you need to be tough. Focused."
"And maybe if you lightened up a bit, people wouldn't be so scared of you," you shot back, your frustration boiling over.
Joel took a step closer, his jaw clenched. "I don't care if people are scared of me. I care about keeping them safe. And you, with your bleeding heart, make that harder."
You felt a surge of anger and hurt at his words. "You know what, Joel? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're so wrapped up in your own pain that you can't see anyone else's."
Joel's face darkened, a mix of anger and something else—something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "You don't know anything about my pain."
"And you don't know anything about mine," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "So maybe you should stop judging me and start seeing that we're all trying to survive in this hell together."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. Then Joel turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Let's just get this patrol over with."
You followed him out of the gate, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions. The silence between you was thick and uncomfortable, but neither spoke. The rift between you seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't see how things would ever change.
You woke up with a pain on your neck. You had fallen asleep on a chair next to Joel’s bed where he was now lay resting, his breathing even and steady. His recovery was going well, but the emotional landscape was far more complex and you wanted to take the risk to discover it.
You watched him for a moment, taking a mental picture of his face, the creases on his skin, how peaceful he looked like this. feeling the weight of uncertainty and guilt within you.
In that exact moment, Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his gaze settling on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, sunshine."
"Hey," you replied softly, mirroring his smile "How are you feeling?"
Joel stretched, wincing slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Better. Thanks to you."
You couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing a bit. "Just doing my job, Joel."
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "You're doing more than just your job. You've been taking care of me, looking out for me. I appreciate it."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's what anyone would do."
Joel shook his head slightly. "No, not everyone. You're special, and I... I think I’m starting to understand that."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. "Joel, you don't need to say that. You're still recovering, and things are confusing right now."
Joel's gaze remained steady, his expression earnest. "I mean it. There's something about you... something that's been here all along, and I was too stubborn to see it."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words, knowing how complicated the situation was. "Joel…”
“Did I care about you before?” he asked, gaze locked with yours.
You shook your head “No. Not really.”
You shook your head, feeling the sting of the truth. “No. Not really.”
Joel looked troubled, his brows knitting together. “I find that hard to believe. Because right now, I can’t imagine not caring about you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Things were different before, Joel. We didn’t get along. You were... closed off, and I guess I was just someone who got under your skin.”
Joel’s expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry. For whatever I did to make you feel that way. I wish I could remember, but all I know is that right now, I see you, and I feel... connected.”
A memory from the past surged forward, vivid and painful. It was a cold evening in Jackson, just after a particularly difficult supply run. You and Joel had been at odds all day, and the tension between you was palpable.
"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Joel snapped; his voice harsh as he slammed the door behind him.
You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. "Maybe because you treat me like I’m incompetent! I’m trying my best out there, Joel. We’re supposed to be a team."
Joel scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "A team? You’re a liability more than anything."
The words cut deep, but you stood your ground. "That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m just trying to help, like everyone else."
Joel’s face twisted with frustration. "Help? You call what you do helping? It’s a wonder anyone here can stand you."
The hurt was immediate and sharp, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "At least I’m trying to do something good. You just push everyone away."
Joel stepped closer, his expression dark. "Maybe there’s a reason for that. I find it hard to believe anyone could actually love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, disbelief and pain warring within you. Without another word, you turned and left, unable to bear the weight of his cruelty.
Back in the present, you blinked, trying to dispel the memory. Joel was watching you closely, concern etched into his features. "What’s wrong?"
You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. "Just... remembering something."
Joel reached out, gently taking your hand. "I wish I could remember too. So, I could make it right."
You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Maybe it’s better this way.
Joel squeezed your hand gently. "A fresh start sounds good. But I still want to know everything. About us, about what I did wrong. So, I can be better."
You nodded, taking the risk and pushing your luck.
You and Joel could become friends, right?
"You and I... we could become friends, right?" you asked.
Joel’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled. "Friends sounds like a good start. We can build from there."
You felt a surge of relief. "Friends it is, then."
The days passed, each one bringing closeness between you and Joel. He had got better, slowly starting to get back to his tasks. The community noticed the change in him, how he was more open and approachable. You often found yourselves working together, whether it was on supply runs or him visiting the infirmary when you were there working.
One afternoon, you were busy organizing medical supplies when Joel walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Hey, need any help in here?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You looked up, smiling back. "Joel, what are you doing here? I thought you were out patrolling.”
Joel shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Finished early. Thought I’d come by and see if you needed a hand."
He, in fact lied. He switched places with another guy just to spend time with you again. He could feel your fear irradiating but he wanted to get to know you better. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he didn’t like someone like you and he wanted to change that.
You chuckled, shaking your head. " Sure, you can help me with these supplies. There are some boxes that need to be sorted."
Joel rolled up his sleeves and joined you, his presence filling the small room with a comforting warmth. As you worked side by side, you found yourself stealing glances at him, marveling at the changes in him. He was more relaxed, more open, and undeniably more attentive.
"You know," Joel said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I like helping out here more than patrolling."
You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Oh? And why is that?"
Joel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend more time with you."
You blushed, focusing intently on the box in front of you. "You’re just saying that."
"No, I mean it," Joel replied, his tone sincere. "I like being around you. You make everything better."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "Well, I like having you around too."
The truth was that stealing glances at him now felt like interlocking fingers without even touching his skin, there wasn’t precisely a sexual tension or possessiveness over him, but a warm incandescent glow within every time he smiled at you. That was something you hadn’t felt in so long, and this time felt so right yet so wrong.
You both continued to work in comfortable silence, the rhythm of your tasks interrupted only by the occasional exchange of smiles or a shared joke. The closeness was undeniable, and you could feel the lines between friendship and something more starting to blur.
One afternoon, you were out on a supply run together, scanning the area for anything useful. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. As you bent down to pick up some supplies, Joel suddenly appeared by your side, his proximity making your heart race.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
You looked up at him, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. "Sure, thanks."
As you both worked, the conversation flowed easily. Joel's presence was comforting, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't before.
"You know, I never really thanked you properly," Joel said, his tone serious.
"For what?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"For saving my life. For being there for me when I needed it the most," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. "You don’t need to thank me, Joel. I did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone," he insisted, his gaze intense. "You went above and beyond. You always do."
You blushed, the warmth spreading through you once again. "Well, I care about you. I can’t help it."
Joel's expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I care about you too. More than I ever thought possible."
The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken words and emotions. You could feel the pull between you, the undeniable connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
"Joel, this is complicated," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "We need to take things slow."
"I know," he replied, his hand lingering near your face. "But I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Joel's feelings for you had grown stronger. He found himself being smitten and completely in love by you, by your beauty, your strength and your soft heart. You were everything that was good with this world. Where everything and everyone was people with shadows dying out of melancholy, you were an angel wrapping your warm arms around him, making his world brighter. He had learnt how to savor the colors again.
As you continued your days together, Joel couldn't help but find ways to be close to you. He would always volunteer to accompany you on supply runs, ensuring you were safe and cared for. He would show up at the infirmary with small gifts – a flower he found on his patrol, a cup of your favorite tea, or a book he thought you might like. His gestures were always thoughtful and sincere, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
Joel couldn't take his eyes off you. You were kneeling in the ground, your hands deftly cleaning something you had found, your face serene and focused. Joel felt a swell of emotion, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "I used to think this world had nothing left to offer. But then I met you."
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "Joel..."
He knelt beside you, his hand covering yours. "You make everything better. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine going back to the way things were."
You felt a mixture of warmth and apprehension. His words were everything you wanted to hear, yet the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your heart. "Joel, this is all so new and complicated. We need to be careful."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes full of determination. "I know it's complicated, and I know we've got a lot to figure out. But I can't ignore what I feel. I want to be here for you, with you, through everything."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I want that too, Joel. But we need to take it one step at a time."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I will make you fall in love with me," he said, his voice full of determination and warmth.
You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"
Joel chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "When it comes to you, I am."
You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. "Let's get back to Jackson," you said, standing up and brushing off your clothes. Joel stood with you, offering a hand to help you up.
As you made your way back to Jackson, the conversation flowed easily. Joel told you stories from before the outbreak, sharing pieces of his past he hadn’t opened up about before. You found yourself laughing at his anecdotes, feeling a growing sense of connection.
When you finally reached the gates of Jackson, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the community. People greeted you both warmly, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor. He was more relaxed and more present, and it was clear to everyone that you had a positive influence on him.
Tommy approached, a knowing smile on his face. "Good to see you both back safe and sound."
Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder. "It was a good run. Found some useful supplies."
Tommy nodded, then looked at you. "And how about you? Everything alright?"
You smiled, feeling the warmth of Joel’s gaze on you on your face. "Yeah, everything's good."
As the evening settled in, you and Joel made your way to the communal dining hall. The chatter of the community filled the air, and you found a spot to sit together. Joel’s hand lingered near yours, his touch reassuring and steady.
Tommy, Ellie, and Maria soon joined you at the table. Tommy was carrying a tray laden with food, Ellie trailing behind him with a mischievous grin, and Maria gave you a warm smile as she took a seat.
"Good to see you two back," Elli said, setting down the tray and passing out plates. “How was the run?" Ellie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"It went well," Joel replied, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he continued. "Found some useful supplies and had some good company."
Ellie smirked, elbowing Tommy. "I bet you did."
You blushed, focusing on your plate as you filled it with food. Maria, ever perceptive, glanced between you and Joel with a knowing smile. "It's good to see everyone together," she said, her tone light and warm.
As you all began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally. Tommy and Maria talked about the latest updates in the community, Ellie shared stories from her day, and Joel occasionally chimed in with his dry humor, making everyone laugh.
At one point, Ellie leaned over to you, her voice low enough so only you could hear. "Joel's been different lately. In a good way. You've been good for him."
You looked at her, surprised by her observation. "I hope so. It's been... a journey."
Ellie nodded, her expression sincere. "Just keep being you. That's all he needs."
The meal continued, filled with warmth and laughter. Joel's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending electricity down your body.
Just as you were starting to relax, a woman approached the table, her presence causing a ripple of unease. It was Lori, one of the women Joel used to date. Joel visibly tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate as Lori stopped beside him, her smile a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.
“Joel," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Joel looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Lori. Uh, hi."
Lori glanced around the table, her eyes settling on you for a moment before she looked back at Joel. "I was just passing by and saw you all together. Mind if I join?"
Before anyone could respond, Tommy jumped in. "Sure, why not? There's always room for one more."
Lori pulled up a chair and sat down, her presence adding a layer of tension to the dynamics. Joel seemed uncomfortable; his usual confidence was replaced by nervous energy.
"So, Joel," Lori began, her tone light but probing. "How have you been? It's been a while."
Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly before answering. "Yeah, it has. I've been... good. Just busy with everything here."
Lori nodded, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "I can see that. Looks like you've made some new friends." She said, bitterly, “The last time I knew from you was when you left my house after our night, and then you hit your head and never spoke to me again.”
The table fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Joel looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his plate. You could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes as he tried to process Lori's words.
"I'm sorry, Lori," Joel finally said, his voice low. "I don't remember much from before the accident. It's been... complicated."
Lori's expression softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I get that. But it still stings, you know? You just disappeared."
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori but also a fierce protectiveness over Joel. "It's been hard for him,” you said gently, trying to ease the tension. "Joel's been working hard to piece things together. He's different now, and we're all just trying to move forward."
Lori glanced at you, her expression unreadable. "I can see that, but it seems like you had taken advantage of the situation; he couldn’t stand your ass before his accident, and suddenly you have him like a little puppy following you everywhere.”
Your heart drops to your stomach, feeling warm spreading to your cheeks.
Joel's jaw tightened, and he quickly interjected, his voice firm. "That's enough, Lori. You don't know what you're talking about."
Lori raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just find it convenient, that's all."
Tommy leaned forward, his tone calm but authoritative. "Lori, we're all trying to move forward here. It's not fair to make accusations."
Ellie, always quick to defend those she cared about, added, "You weren't here to see what she did for Joel. She saved his life and has been helping him every step of the way."
Lori's gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just needed to understand."
Maria nodded, her voice gentle. "We all get that, Lori. It's been a tough situation for everyone."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. "You took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll take some fresh air,” you said, standing up, not even looking down at Joel, who seemed sad at your whole dementor.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. I—" you paused, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. "I’ll take some fresh air," you said, standing up abruptly. Avoiding eye contact with Joel, who looked sad and concerned, you made your way outside.
The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you walked a little way from the dining hall, finding a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. You leaned against a tree, closing your eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.
After a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes to see Ellie standing there, her expression filled with concern. "Hey, you okay?"
You nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I just needed a moment. That was a bit embarrassing."
Ellie walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. "Lori was out of line. You've been amazing with Joel. Anyone with eyes can see that."
“So, don’t you think I’ve been taking advantage of him?” You asked, really concerned.
“What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you.” She replied, laughing.
Ellie laughed, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you."
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know, but sometimes it feels like I’m walking on eggshells. It feels like he is going to wake up from his trance and he will hate me again."
Ellie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I've seen the way he looks at you. He’s happier, lighter. You’ve brought out a side of him I didn’t think existed. And trust me, if he didn’t want this, he’d make it clear."
You took a deep breath.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked.
“Me, falling in love with him,” you answer.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked, her tone light but sincere.
You sighed, the weight of your fears pressing down. “Me, falling in love with him,” you answered quietly.
Ellie gave you a sympathetic look. "And why is that so bad?"
"Because," you began, struggling to put your feelings into words, "what if his memories come back and he realizes he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if I fall in love with him and he changes back to the old Joel, the one who couldn’t stand me?"
Ellie nodded, understanding. "That's a risk, sure. But you can't let fear keep you from living. You've been through so much together, and it's clear he cares about you deeply now. Maybe that won't change."
You bit your lip, the turmoil inside you reflected in your eyes. "I just don't want to get hurt, Ellie. And I don’t want to hurt him either."
Ellie squeezed your shoulder. "I get it. But if you keep holding back, you'll never know what could be. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith."
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Maybe you're right."
Ellie grinned. "Of course I'm right. Now, let's get back in there. Joel's probably worrying himself sick."
You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, let's go."
As you walked back into the dining hall, you found Joel still sitting at the table, his eyes lighting up when he saw your return. He stood up as you approached, his concern evident.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."
Joel looked relieved, and he gently took your hand. "I'm glad you're back."
The evening continued with easy conversation, and as you all eventually made your way out of the dining hall, Joel walked beside you, his presence a comforting constant.
"Thanks for dinner," he said softly as you approached your door.
"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. "It was nice, being with everyone."
Joel nodded, his eyes lingering on you. "It was. And I meant what I said today. I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at his words. "You're really set on that, aren't you?"
Joel nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of a smile that made you go crazy. "I am. Because I know what I feel now, and I’m not going to let it slip away."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Joel, this is new for both of us. We need to take it one step at a time."
He took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. “Am I that unlovable?”
You blinked, taken aback by his question. "What? No, Joel, you're not unlovable at all. It's just... complicated."
Joel's eyes softened, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "I get that. But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I appreciate that, Joel. And I do care about you. A lot. It's just..."
"Scary?" he finished for you, his voice gentle.
You nodded.
Joel's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It is scary. But sometimes, the best things come from taking a leap of faith."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "It’s not just about taking a leap. It’s about making sure we’re ready for whatever comes next."
Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. And I'm ready to take it slow to give you the space you need. Just know that I’m here for you, and I’m not giving up on us."
You felt a mix of relief and trepidation, but Joel's unwavering support gave you strength. "Thank you, Joel. That means a lot to me."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "We’ll figure it out, one step at a time."
You nodded, closing your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself to savor the closeness and the promise of what might come. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Joel’s smile—a smile that made you believe in the possibility of a new beginning.
"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice tender, holding back the desire to cupp your face and kiss you.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, your heart fluttering, feeling the same as him.
Now standing, this close, face to face, skins touching. One of you would give in before, and once that happened, there was no going to be a way to stop two hearts beating this fast.
Joel's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze revealing the depth of his emotions. You could see the conflict within him, the longing that mirrored your own. His hand lingered near your face, his fingers almost brushing against your skin, his breath warm and steady.
The moment felt suspended in time, the air between you charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. You both stood there, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from each other, your hearts racing in sync.
Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you, but I also don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel this.”
You swallowed, your own voice trembling slightly. “I feel it too, Joel. But we need to be careful.”
Joel nodded, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. “I know. And I want to respect that. I just...” He hesitated, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to miss this chance with you. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Joel’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, the desire and uncertainty evident in his expression. His hand gently cupped your face. His touch was tender, as if he were afraid to break the spell that bound you both.
You felt your heart race, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Joel’s fingers brushed softly against your cheek, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His breath grew shallower, and his eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the closeness.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of warmth and affection that sent a shiver down your spine. The moment felt both exhilarating and comforting, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that had been building between you.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving softly against his. The kiss deepened gradually, a sweet exploration of new and uncharted territory. His hands moved to frame your face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were cherishing every second of this newfound closeness.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. The kiss had been more than just a physical connection; it was a promise of something more, something that neither of you fully understood yet but were both eager to explore.
Joel’s smile was tender and full of warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that since I woke up that day at the infirmary,” he admitted softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his confession. His words made your heart flutter even more, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm glad you did," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way."
Joel's smile widened, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I didn’t want to rush things or push you. But now... now that we’ve shared this, I hope we can figure things out together."
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and warmth. "I think we can. I want to see where this leads."
He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "No pressure, just... being here with you."
You smiled, feeling a sense of calm and excitement. "I would like that.”
Joel nodded; his expression full of affection. "Good. Now, how about we get some rest? Tomorrow's a new day, and I want to spend it with you."
You felt a burst of warmth at his words and, inspired by the new closeness between you, you hesitated for just a moment before speaking up. “How about we go inside for a bit? I’ve got some tea. It might be nice to relax and talk more.”
Joel’s eyes lit up at the invitation, and he nodded with a smile. “That sounds perfect.”
You led the way to your house, the familiar surroundings now feeling different with Joel by your side. Once inside, you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing the tea. Joel watched you with an easy smile, clearly content.
As you waited for the water to boil, you and Joel chatted about lighter topics—how his recovery was going, plans for the community, and small anecdotes from your days. The conversation flowed easily, and the atmosphere between you was comfortable and warm.
When the tea was ready, you poured two cups and handed one to Joel. He took it with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. You both settled into a cozy corner of your living room, the soft light of a lamp casting a gentle glow around the room.
Joel sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally meeting yours. “This is nice,” he said softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Joel looked around your living room, the peaceful ambiance a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. He took another sip of his tea, then turned his gaze back to you. “You know, before all this, I had a pretty normal life. A family, a daughter named Sarah. She was... everything to me.”
His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and you could see the pain in his eyes. You nodded, sensing the weight of his memories. “I’m sorry, Joel. I can’t even imagine.”
Joel’s expression was somber but grateful. “Thanks. She was everything. When the outbreak happened, she... she didn’t make it. It’s been hard, you know? Trying to keep going and make sense of it all.”
You felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how devastating such a loss could be. “I understand. I lost my fiancé in a storm during the outbreak. We were caught outside, and he was... gone before I could do anything.”
Joel’s eyes softened with empathy. “That’s so tough. I’m really sorry you went through that.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own memories. “It was the storm that made me afraid of them. Every time the weather changes, it reminds me of that day. I try not to let it control me, but sometimes, it’s hard.”
Joel reached out, placing his hand gently on yours. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that. It’s brave of you to face it every day.”
You looked at his hand on yours, feeling a comforting warmth from his touch. “It’s been a struggle, but having people like you around makes it a little easier.”
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “We all have our battles. But we’ve found ways to keep moving forward. And maybe together, we can make those battles a little less daunting.”
+++++
The days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Joel grew stronger. The bond you shared was evident in the way you looked at each other and the ease with which you interacted. People in Jackson had noticed the change in both of you, and there was a sense of warmth and contentment surrounding your partnership.
One afternoon, as you were working in the infirmary, organizing supplies and checking on patients, Joel walked in. He had that familiar, easy smile on his face, and his presence was a comforting one amidst the hectic pace of the medical work.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “Thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
You looked up, your face lighting up at the sight of him. “Hey, Joel. Just busy as usual. How’s everything on the patrol?”
Joel shrugged, walking over to where you were working. “Not too bad. But I figured I’d come by and keep you company. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah, I’ve been needed here more often lately. But it’s good to see you.”
Joel moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “I’ve missed you. It’s different when you’re not around.”
You felt a surge of affection at his words. “I’ve missed you too. But this is important. People need help, and I want to make sure I’m here for them.”
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get it. Just remember to take care of yourself too. I’d hate to see you running on empty.”
You chuckled, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try. But having you here now brought a smile to my face.”
He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “Well, I’m glad to be here. Can I help with anything?”
You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Actually, if you could help me restock some of these supplies, that would be great.”
Joel moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he began helping with the supplies. The shared task created a comfortable silence between you, with only the soft sounds of organizing supplies filling the space.
As you worked side by side, Joel’s gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made your heart race. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The kiss was a sweet proof the connection you shared, and you responded with equal tenderness, savoring the closeness.
Just as the kiss deepened, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Dr. Ramirez walked in. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and Joel but quickly masked her surprise with a professional smile.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone warm but slightly teasing. “I came to check on things and see if you needed any help.”
You and Joel pulled away; a bit flustered but smiling nonetheless. “We were just finishing up,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Everything’s in order.”
Dr. Ramirez nodded, her gaze flicking between you and Joel with a knowing look. “Alright, if you need anything, just let me know.”
As she moved to her office, you glanced at Joel, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
Joel chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Yeah, but I guess it’s a good thing everyone know you’re my girl.”
You looked up at Joel, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I suppose it is. It’s nice to be able to be open about us."
Joel’s expression softened; his gaze warm. “It is. And I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It makes everything feel more real, more... solid.”
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you want to have dinner at my place?” he asked.
You looked up at Joel, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of spending more time together. “Dinner at your place sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
Joel’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Great. I’ll make sure to have something good ready for us.”
You both made your way to Joel’s place, the evening air cool and crisp. The walk was filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, a comforting routine that had become a cherished part of your days.
When you arrived at Joel’s house, he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. The interior was cozy, with soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. He led you to the kitchen, where a simple but inviting dinner was laid out on the table.
Joel’s cooking was surprisingly good, and as you enjoyed the meal together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothing—your favorite memories, plans for the future, and the little things that made you both laugh.
After dinner, you moved to the living room, where Joel had set up a comfortable spot with blankets and pillows. You both settled in, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
Joel looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Me too. Tonight has been perfect.”
He wrapped his arm around you, his touch warm and reassuring. “Here’s to many more nights like this.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”
As the evening wore on, you both talked about your past experiences and shared stories from before the outbreak. Joel spoke about his life before everything changed—his family, the dreams he had, and the struggles he faced. You shared your own experiences, including the loss of your fiancé and the challenges of adapting to this new world alone.
Joel listened intently, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to reassure you. “It’s amazing how much we’ve both been through,” he said softly. “And yet, here we are.”
You nodded, feeling a deep connection. “Yeah. It feels like we’re building something meaningful despite everything.”
After some time, you both decided it was time to call it a night. You stood up, stretching slightly as you gathered your things. Joel walked with you to the door, his presence a comforting constant.
As you reached the door, Joel hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you with a mix of hesitation and hope in his eyes. “I was wondering… would you like to spend the night here? It’s been nice having you around, and I’d love to have you stay.”
You looked at him, surprised but touched by the invitation. The warmth in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice made it hard to resist.
“I’d like that,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.
Joel’s expression brightened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug. “Great. Let’s get you settled in.”
Joel led you to his bedroom, a space that felt both lived-in and welcoming. The room was simple but comfortable, with a bed covered in worn but clean linens and a few personal touches that spoke to Joel’s character—photos of his family, a well-loved guitar leaning against the wall, and a small stack of books on the bedside table.
He gestured to the bed with a slightly sheepish grin. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it’s home.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance. “It’s perfect.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad you think so.”
You both prepared for bed in comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine helping to ease any lingering tension. Joel showed you where you could find anything you might need—extra blankets, a lamp for reading, and a small cabinet for any personal items you might want to keep nearby.
As you both settled into the bed, Joel turned off the lights, leaving only a soft glow from a nightlight on the dresser. He slipped under the covers, and you followed suit, the warmth and comfort of the bed providing a welcome respite from the day’s events.
Joel turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice tender.
You smiled, feeling a sense of peace as you settled closer to him. “Me too. It feels right.”
He reached out and gently took your hand, interlocking your fingers. The simple gesture was filled with meaning, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger.
“Goodnight,” Joel whispered, his voice carrying a note of affection.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your heart fluttering with contentment.
A few days later, you and Ellie were seated at a table in the bustling dining hall, enjoying a well-deserved lunch. The room was filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of utensils, creating a comforting background noise.
Ellie, always full of energy, was animatedly talking about a new comic she’d found. “You won’t believe this,” she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “but this one hero has the power to control weather. I’m telling you, if I had that power, I’d totally make it sunny all the time.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like you’ve been reading too many comics. But I suppose a bit of sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”
Ellie grinned, grabbing a bite of her sandwich. “True, true. But, seriously, how are things going with Joel? You two seem... really happy.”
You smiled, feeling a warm flush at her question. “We are. It’s been nice, spending time together. He’s been really supportive, and I think we’re figuring things out.”
Ellie’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased with your answer. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s been a lot happier since you two started spending more time together. It’s like he’s found a new spark.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “It’s been good for both of us. We’re still taking things one step at a time, but it feels right.”
Ellie’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know it’s been rough with everything that’s happened, but it’s nice to see people finding happiness again. Especially you and Joel.”
You appreciated Ellie’s support and her ability to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Ellie. That means a lot.”
Ellie glanced around the dining hall, then back at you with a mischievous grin. “So, are you guys planning any big adventures together? Or just sticking to the small stuff for now?”
You laughed softly. “We’re sticking to the small stuff for now. Just enjoying the moments, we have together.” You paused, “I’m still a little bit scared of him waking up hating me again.”
Ellie’s eyes softened with understanding. “I get that. It’s natural to be scared after everything you’ve both been through. But you’re doing great, and Joel is different now. He’s not going to just wake up one day and hate you.”
You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering concern in your expression. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes, it’s hard to shake that fear, especially after everything that’s happened.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “I think you both just need to keep talking and being honest with each other. The more you communicate, the more you’ll build that trust. And remember, it’s okay to have those fears. It just means you care.”
You managed a small smile. “Thanks, Ellie. It’s reassuring to hear that.”
Ellie grinned and took a bite of her lunch. “Anytime. And if you ever need someone to talk to or just need a distraction, you know I’m here. We can have a comic marathon or something.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of Ellie’s support. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
As you and Ellie finished your lunch, you stood up to clear your plates, the conversation easing into a comfortable silence. Just as you were about to head to the serving area, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a warm embrace. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on your cheek, making you feel a surge of happiness and surprise.
You turned your head slightly, finding Joel’s smiling face close to yours. “Hey there,” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to steal a moment with you.”
Ellie watched with a grin, clearly pleased with the sight. “Looks like someone’s got a fan club.”
You blushed slightly, leaning into Joel’s embrace. “Hi, Joel. I was just catching up with Ellie.”
Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your side. “I figured I’d come and see how you were doing. Plus, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a walk later.”
You smiled, feeling content in his arms. “A walk sounds nice. I’d love that.”
Joel nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Great. Let’s finish up here and head out.”
You and Joel exchanged a tender glance before you both started to clear your plates. Ellie gave you both a playful nudge. “I’ll leave you two to your walk. Enjoy, and remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
+++++++++++++
“So?” you asked, as Joel was smiling in complete silence.
“So what?” he asked without erasing that smile from his face.
“Aren’t you going to talk?”
Joel chuckled, his smile widening. “I guess I’m just enjoying the moment. It’s not every day I get to be this content.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. “Oh really? And why’s that?”
He looked at you, his gaze tender. “Because being with you like this, just walking and talking, it’s exactly what I’ve wanted. It’s simple and perfect.”
You smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. So, what’s on your mind?”
Joel glanced around, taking in the scenery before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking about how nice would be if you go to my place tonight. Ellie’s gonna spend the night with Dina and I want to spend the night with you.”
“That sounds wonderful,” you said with a smile. “I’d love to spend the night with you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and he took your hand, gently squeezing it. “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned and kiss you on the lips, “No I gotta go helping Tommy, see you later, sunshine”
You pouted, grabbing his hand before he could go anywhere “Wait? That was all?”
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought I’d surprise you with the invitation, and I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy spending time with you.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “Well, I didn’t realize the evening was just an invitation and a kiss goodbye.”
Joel grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright. If you want more, I guess I’ll have to come up with something better.” He pulled you into another kiss, this one longer and more lingering.
You smiled against his lips as you pulled away. “That’s more like it. But seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face gently. “I’m looking forward to it too. Just had to help Tommy out with something. I promise, I’ll make up for it.”
You nodded, still holding onto his hand. “I’ll hold you to that. See you later, Joel.”
He gave you one last smile before heading out, leaving you with a warm feeling and the anticipation of the evening ahead.
+++++++++++++
When you arrived at Joel's place, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the surroundings. Joel greeted you at the door with a welcoming smile and a quick, affectionate kiss.
"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, taking your coat and hanging it up. "I’ve got a few things planned, but we can start with something simple if you’d like."
You stepped inside, feeling the comforting familiarity of Joel’s home. “I’m sure whatever you’ve got planned will be perfect,” you replied, smiling at him.
Joel led you into the living room, where he’d set up a cozy area with blankets and cushions. The room was softly lit by lamps, and the atmosphere was inviting and warm. A few candles were flickering on the coffee table, casting a gentle glow.
“I figured we could start with some dinner and then maybe just talk or something else” Joel suggested, his eyes reflecting the soft light.
You nodded, feeling content with the simple but thoughtful setup. “That sounds great.”
Joel moved to the kitchen and returned shortly with a plate of homemade food—something comforting and hearty. He set it down on the table, then joined you on the couch.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily, just like it had during your earlier moments together. You talked about your days, your plans, and even some light-hearted topics. Joel’s presence was reassuring, and you felt completely at ease.
After dinner, Joel suggested putting on some music. He rummaged through his collection, finally settling on a classic that he thought you’d enjoy. You both snuggled up under the blankets, the music playing softly in the background.
Joel occasionally glanced at you, his hand resting casually on your knee. The song played, but most of your attention was focused on the comfort of being next to him, the warmth of his touch, and the quiet contentment that filled the room.
Joel turned to you, his gaze tender. “You know, I’m really glad we’re doing this. Just being here with you, it feels right.”
You smiled, leaning into him. “I feel the same way.”
Joel’s hand moved to gently brush your hair back from your face. “What’s your biggest fear?” he asked out of the blue?
You sighed, leaving his gaze for a moment “You waking up and forgetting you love me”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly at your answer, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. “Why would you think that? I don’t see any reason why that would happen.”
You took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as you shared your fear. “It’s just….you knew I told you we didn’t get along before, in fact you hated me, Joel.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he listened to your concern. He took a moment before responding, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know things weren’t easy between us before. And yeah, I didn’t handle things the best way back then. But that’s in the past. What matters now is how we are right now.”
He reached out and gently took your hand in his. “The truth is, I’ve changed. And I see you differently now. I see you for who you are, and I realize how much you mean to me. Whatever those old feelings were? They’re gone. What we have now is real, and I’m committed to it.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. “But what if one day you wake up and those old feelings come back? What if something changes?”
Joel shook his head, his gaze intense and full of conviction. “I don’t believe that’ll happen. I’ve come to understand how much you mean to me, and how deeply I care about you.”
He squeezed your hand gently, his expression earnest. “I’m not going to let those fears control us. We’re building something strong, and I want to keep building it with you. I’m here, and I’m committed to making sure we have a future together.”
You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words. “Thank you, Joel. That really means a lot to me.”
Joel smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m glad. And if you ever need reassurance, just ask. I’m always here to remind you of how much you mean to me.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of comfort and closeness. The fears that had been troubling you began to fade as you focused on the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice.
Joel’s gaze lingered on yours, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and resolve. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a careful exploration of newfound trust and affection.
As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, conveying all the emotions and reassurances that words alone couldn’t fully capture. Joel’s hand cupped your face, his touch warm and reassuring as he pressed closer.
You responded to the kiss, your own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss felt like a promise, a shared understanding of where you both stood and where you hoped to go.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads touching as you gazed into each other’s eyes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment of closeness.
Joel’s smile was soft, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I needed to do that. To show you just how much you mean to me.”
You smiled back, your heart full. “I needed that too.”
Joel gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
After that, everything happened in a flash. Neither of you realized when you removed your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch; you wanted to discover how his fingers could leave a mark on you, tracing invisible lines across your body.
He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldn’t stop.
With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.
He was hovering over you, giving you a passionate kiss. He was between your legs, exactly where you wanted him.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at you. To appreciate the features of your face and the nature of your body to admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.
“You look beautiful”. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.
You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs with his gently touch, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.
And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to everything you had experiencing before. At this moment, you weren’t driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You weren’t in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.
This time he was making love because he had drowned himself on your religion.
Both of you gasped aloud the moment he began to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours, interlocking them as he kissed you softly, muttering, "You're so beautiful like this". He was mesmerized by the way you were nervously giggling and cocking your head back in delight. He bit your neck, prompting your hands to move up to his neck, and his hands ran down your entire body without a layer of clothing on you, focusing on every thrust and diving deep to ensure he was making you happy.
You opened your eyes and stared back at him, entirely focused on you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as his hands massaged your breasts while he continued to devour your lips. Your back arched, followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so fantastic, you couldn't help but think you were in the celestial realm You could tell you were getting closer as you squeezed him and kept your gaze fixed on each other. He pushed harder, one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping your knee to guarantee you fell apart.
The noises you made drove him insane, as he felt himself reaching the edge of the cliff. He wanted to stare at you under him as you came and with a loud gasp, he did it at the same time falling over your exposed chest, your heartbeats mingling.
You moaned softly beneath him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, flashing him a cute smile he hadn't tired of, as you kissed him on the lips.
"I love you so much," he replied, gazing at you with admiration. “I’m so in love with you.”
I love you.
I’m so in love with you.
Those three words were echoing in the shadows of your mind. Your expression softened and you felt your blood rushing. You were sure they had had an impact on you.
“And I love you so much” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your emotion.
Joel’s expression softened even further, and he brushed a tender kiss against your lips once more. The connection between you was undeniable, a blend of passion and deep affection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you. The world outside seemed distant and unimportant in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and you allowed yourself to fully embrace the love and happiness you had found with Joel.
Joel gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
You nodded, your eyes closing as you savored the moment. “Yeah, we have. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Neither would I. Here’s to more moments like this, and to whatever the future holds for us.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment and anticipation for what was to come. “To us,” you agreed, your heart full of love and hope.
+++++++++++
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred, waking up with a smile on your face. The previous night’s intimacy and love still lingered, and you turned to look at Joel. He was sleeping peacefully beside you, a contented expression on his face.
As you watched him, you felt a surge of happiness and affection. You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart full of love for him.
But as Joel’s eyes fluttered open and he met your gaze, his expression shifted dramatically. His sparkly brown eyes filled with love, widened in horror, and a look of confusion and fear crossed his face. He pushed himself up, scrambling back slightly.
“What...What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and fear.
You were taken aback, your smile faltering as you tried to make sense of his reaction. “Joel, what’s wrong?”
No. It couldn’t be that, right?
Joel’s eyes were filled with a pained realization. “Oh my god, you came to my house trying to seduce me into sleeping with you?”
You felt a sharp pang of pain at his words, and your heart dropped. The warmth you had felt earlier was replaced by a cold, unsettling feeling.
“No, Joel, that’s not what happened,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “We’re in love”
He chuckled. “In love? Me in love with you? I could never” he said.
Your chest tightened, and the hurt in Joel’s words felt like a physical blow. You struggled to keep your composure, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Joel, you can’t mean that,” you said, your voice shaking. “Last night, you said you loved me. We shared something real.”
Joel’s expression was a mix of confusion and pain. “I don’t remember saying that. Last night I was with Lori”
That’s it. You were back at were you used to be.
The weight of Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of betrayal and heartache, as the realization sank in. The warmth and affection from the night before felt like a cruel illusion.
“So, what? You’re saying last night meant nothing?” you asked. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. “You really don’t remember? You don’t remember how we talked, how you told me you loved me?”
“I don’t love you.” He said, sternly.
“But I’m your sunshine” you sobbed.
Joel’s laughter pierced through you like a blade, and you could barely stand the weight of the realization. Each word he spoke seemed to tear away at the fabric of your heart, unraveling the dream you’d clung to so desperately.
The room felt colder, the air heavier, as you fought to control your sobs. Every touch, every shared moment that had once seemed so real was now reduced to nothing more than painful echoes of a memory that never truly existed.
He didn’t remember the stealing glances, the kisses, the touches and the promises than now seemed to fade with the cruel destiny meeting the ending meant to be.
You had taken a risk at falling in love with the version of a Joel who loved you back, and he didn’t exist anymore. He had faded just when he had told you he loved you.
He didn’t remember falling in love with you, he didn’t remember all the time you spent together, and he didn’t remember loving you, but you didn’t think this would hurt this much.
“Joel” you said, pleading him to remember.
“Out.” He said, gritting his teeth.
You stood there, the pain in your chest almost unbearable, as Joel's harsh words echoed around you. The warmth and affection you had shared just hours before now seemed like a cruel illusion, shattered by his denial.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice trembling. "Just think about everything we shared. It was real."
Joel’s eyes were hard, and he crossed his arms defensively. “I don't remember any of it. And I can't fake feelings I don't have.”
You felt a deep, profound sadness, the weight of his words making it almost impossible to breathe. The life you had envisioned, the love you had felt, seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers.
“Please, just—” you tried to reason with him, but the look in his eyes made it clear that any further pleading was futile.
Joel’s expression remained firm, a mix of regret and frustration. “Everything I know is that you took advantage of me.”
The sting of Joel's words cut deep, each one echoing the finality of a dream you had cherished. The accusation of taking advantage of him felt like a betrayal, intensifying the emotional agony you were already struggling with.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the fragments of your composure. "Joel, I never did that. We have something—"
Joel interrupted; his voice cold. "I don’t want to hear it. You need to leave. Now."
The finality in his tone left no room for argument. With a heart heavy with sorrow, you nodded, unable to find the words that might change his mind.
You were only on one of his shirts, trying to find your clothes.
You stumbled through the room, your movements disjointed as you searched for your clothes. The pain and confusion made every action feel like an immense effort. Joel’s gaze remained fixed on you, his face a mask of distant resolve.
You found your jeans, but it was crumpled and stained, and you struggled to put it on with trembling hands. The fabric felt rough against your skin, a stark contrast to the comfort you had felt just hours before. You glanced around for your other belongings, the room now feeling foreign and unwelcoming.
“I... I can’t find my blouse,” you said again, your voice a whisper filled with desperation and trembling.
Joel’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. “Don’t worry about it. Just wear my shirt. I won’t wear it again.” His voice was cold and icy, not more softness as when they used to whisper things on your ear.
The coldness in his words made it clear that there was no room for negotiation or further conversation. You nodded numbly, the shirt you were already wearing now feeling like a heavy shroud setting your skin on fire.
As you finished dressing, you glanced around the room one last time, trying to memorize the space you were leaving behind. The sight of the room, so filled with the promise you fooled yourself onto believing.
There was an intensified the ache in your chest.
Joel stood by the door, his posture rigid as if he were bracing himself for something. His eyes didn’t meet yours, focusing instead on some distant point. The silence between you was heavy with the weight of the broken bond that never existed.
As you pulled on your shoes, your heart cracked completely sank in deeper. You looked up, meeting Joel’s eyes one last time.
“Joel, I’m sorry for everything,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant to cause any harm. I just wanted—”
Joel cut you off with a slight nod, his face still set in a hard expression. “Just go. Please.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost making it impossible to speak. The intensity of Joel's gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and indifference, made it clear that any further words would be futile.
With one last, lingering look at him and the room that just yesterday had witnessed three empty words that now didn’t meant anything, you turned and made your way down the hall. Each step felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the burden of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your heart.
As you reached the front door, the cool morning air hit you, providing a stark contrast to the warmth you had felt just hours before. The quiet outside was a jarring reminder of the world that continued, indifferent to the personal turmoil you were experiencing.
With every step, you tried to reconcile the reality you faced with the memories of what you had thought was true, a momentary field of dreams. The pain was sharp and immediate. How would you continue life after losing another love?
+++++++
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascar character imagine#pedro pascal#joel miller smut
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"yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool, but not as cool as me" -bllk boys
synposis- lovesick blue lock boys who can't help but worship the ground their girlfriend walks on (written as girlfriend but please feel free to read this as gn)
boyfriend!alexis is the type of boyfriend who buys you just because flowers, he has a little too much money and you love flowers putting two and two together he pretty much bought you flowers every other day.
boyfriend!bachira is the type of boyfriend who tries to remember your favorite everything so bad but he just can't because what do you mean olives are fine on pizza but not on anything else? but poor baby tries so hard to memorise everything he can.
boyfriend!chigiri is the type of boyfriend who's the best at giving you advice! it doesn't matter what problem you're facing he somehow has the solution. he's like your mom no matter what the issue is he has a way to resolve it.
boyfriend!eita is the type of boyfriend who cannot keep his hands off you, doesn't matter where or when he's all over you. it's not even remotely sexual in any way either! he just likes being around you, the skin to skin contact makes him feel so comforted and homely.
boyfriend!isagi is the type of boyfriend who's your no.1 supporter and defender. he's your personal hypeman, there isn't a day where he doesn't shower you with compliments, he's also always there to defend your name, doesn't matter who it is he's there insulting them and their entire lineage even if one negative word was spoken about you.
boyfriend!yukimiya is the type of boyfriend who does literally everything for you! he physically stops you from doing basic tasks like putting away the dishes. of course it bothers you because this man is working overtime at this point but he couldn't careless as long as you're being treated like the princess you are.
boyfriend!karasu is the type of boyfriend who's always making you laugh, if you're with him you're gonna always be giggling and cracking jokes, mans does not care where when and who is listening he just wants to hear that sweet melodic giggle, he just loves the sound of your laugh and NEEDS to see you happy.
boyfriend!nagi is the type of boyfriend who's always trying a little bit harder for you. abandoning his previous status of being the laziest person to ever live, he started trying harder for you. not by alot but he's putting just a little bit more effort in everything he does, just so he can be better for you.
boyfriend!sae is the type of boyfriend who's spoiling you rotten. he's away a lot and hates to see you sad so he's always sending these cute (expensive) little gifts he knows you'll like, a chain with a pendant of your favorite flower, chocolates from the country he's currently in, small souvenirs. but when he is with you, be rest assured if you mentioned a single thing, even in passing HE WILL BUY IT FOR YOU. robux? you got it, a new kuromi plushie is out? you got it. he just can't help himself when you're all giddy with excitement.
boyfriend!rin is the type of boyfriend who starts opening up more with you. after the fall out with sae, he closed his poor heart off but then you came and being with you healed his inner child. he started smiling a bit more (only around you), stopped insulting every living creatures existence. he opened about his heart up to you, gradually of course but every insecurity every doubt anything he felt he told it to you, because to him you were his safe space.
boyfriend!reo is the type of boyfriend who makes cute thoughtful gifts, growing up all he got was gifts with monetary value, and no real emotions attached, so when he started dating you. he gave you these cute handmade gifts (obviously he also spent a lot of money on you) and they had this sense of warmth and comfort to them. he also bought you your favourite foods and drinks as a treat almost everyday, they had these small notes telling you how much he loves you and what not! he's so silly in love.


HI CHAT IM BACK AHAIN AND MY FINALS ARE OVER AND IM FREE THIS IS KUST SOMEJTING SMALL I WANTED TO WRITE BEFORE DEDICATING TIME TO AN ACTUAL FIC PLIS ENJOY 😽😽
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock fluff#isagi yoichi#sae itoshi#rin itoshi#reo mikage#nagi seishiro#karasu tabito#otoya eita#yukimiya kenyu#alexis ness#isagi x reader#rin x reader#sae x reader#nagi x reader#reo x reader#karasu x reader#e#otoya x reader#yukimiya x reader#ness x reader
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Hi i saw that your requests are open so what lets say what if reader magically teleported into the dmc netflix (anime) world and Dante finds her. Like it happens right in front of his eyes. What would he do ? Like becoming friends with feelings type of thing. Hope its not a bother. Have a great day.<3
Not a bother! Never could be :) I love reading everyone's requests! Thank you for asking for this, its a cute little idea <3
You fell from the sky. Literally.
It was certainly a big surprise when he head screaming from above to see someone falling straight towards him. He caught you, arms cradling you as your both stared at one another. Him in bewilderment, and you with fear and confusion.
"This must be my lucky day," He gives you a boyish grin. "Beautiful women falling into my arms!" But he sees how dizzy you seem to be, pressing you hand against your aching head. His expression calms. "You okay?"
"I don't know," You mumble, voice shaking. "I think... I'm going to faint."
His eyes widen. "What? Hey, wait a second you -" He falls silent when your head lands on his shoulder. "Okay," He mutters to himself, correcting his hold on you. "I've got you."
He didn't think that odd meeting would make everything seem so different. You were human, the both of you made sure of that when you had woken up in his apartment. That didn't stop him from calling you Angel, though.
With no where else to go, you ended up staying with Dante - you found out his name when he ordered pizza for the both of you. Demons was a big surprise for you, since where you're from, they were mostly monsters in movies and books.
Here, they were real.
"the healing is cool," You said one day, sitting besides him on his couch. A small bowl of water and a towel in your hands. Lifting the wet towel to clean the blood sticking to his skin on the side of his face. "the mess? Not so much."
"That's too bad," Sighs Dante. Eyes closed as he feels how gentle you are cleaning the blood off from his skin. "I like when you pamper me."
You glance away, heat in your cheeks. "Oh, so you get bloodied up on purpose? Maybe I should stop," You make a scene to pull away, only to laugh when he stops you. Hand holding yours back up to his face, his other arm wrapping around your waist.
"Don't be like that," He whines, pulling you closer. "I need my Angel to take care of me."
You huff softly at is little nickname for you. Still, you continue to clean off the blood softly. The air around you two becoming soft and quiet. Dante opens is eyes slightly, and his breath hitches.
The soft light glowing behind you like your very own halo. Brows furrowed slightly as you concentrate on what you are doing. One of your hands cradling his face to hold him still.
You are beautiful.
Eyes widening, you stop and stare at him. Feeling as if your heart stopped, then rebooted. Beating against your chest, trying to break out and into his hands.
"...Shit." He had said that out loud.
Dante looks away, but doesn't turn away. Needing to feel how you still cradle his face so softly. How your thumb brush, feather light over his cheek. He tenses when you wrap your other arm around him, face hiding within his neck. He can feel your breath warming his skin, how your lips touch him as they lift into a shy smile.
Nothing needs to be said. It's felt in how he shifts his arms around you tightly. Comforting. His cheek pressed against your head, holding you to his chest.
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