#please get your shit together when you’re back in Boston

[allthesway]

recap of the night! watching this game was like a train crash, so bad I couldn’t look away

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

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@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

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@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑫𝑬

** gif by the amazing @inklore who made this for me, love u bby thank you so much!!!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.5k

summary: a retelling of the third episode but with you in it. Starts with Ellie reading Bill's letter.

warnings: spoilers for episode three, oral (giving), shower sex, piv, lots of emotions, hugging joel because he needs it, soft!joel

a/n: i'm still fucking crying tbh

“August 29, 2023,”

“If you find this please do not come into the bedroom. We left the window open so the house wouldn't smell. It will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this Joel. Because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps hehehehehehe Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway, I never liked you. But still, it's like we're friends. Almost. And I respect you. So I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here, we have a job to do. And god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep—”

Ellie’s voice trails off, making you look up from the corner of the wall your eyes were digging a hole in. She presses her lips together, eyes moving away from the heartbreaking letter. Joel’s eyes snap up, and without saying a word he snatches the letter from her hands and reads it for himself. You have the urge to come close and peer at the words as well, but you don’t dare. You zero in on his expression; the crease between his brows deepens, the corner of his lips pulling down. He swallows. 

“Stay here,” he croaks, heading to the door. 

It slams shut. Leaving you and Ellie inside, you turn to her, “What did it say?” you ask despite having a solid guess of what the answer might be.  

Ellie doesn’t look up. Her stance is relaxed but the tension tolling over her shoulders is visible. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and answers, “Tess,” she says. “Bill was telling Joel to keep her safe,” 

“Oh shit,” you whisper instinctively. Ellie nods. 

“My thoughts exactly,” 

You drop your bag, the sudden relief of it being gone making you feel lighter than ever. You know he’ll be mad if you try to talk about it. But you also don’t have it in you to leave him to wallow in his own self-pity. Joel is a protector. And from what you’ve heard, Bill was also one. Protector to protector. The message was abundantly clear and Joel had failed again and again. You hate to word it like that, but you know that’s what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about Sarah, about Tess. About Tommy who might be already dead. Now, he has to deal with you and Ellie. You, he found in Boston with Tess, covered in bruises and cuts, ration cards stolen and beaten to a pulp. 

You turn to Ellie one last time, she’s already staring at you, it’s slightly unnerving. “Wait here, don’t touch anything that might kill you. Stock up,” 

“Aye Aye Captain.” 

And you leave. 

The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky. Your eyes lock onto Joel as soon as you step over the threshold; his back turned, letter in hand, shoulders slumped. He looks around the neighborhood, then back down to the letter. He repeats the motion a couple of times as if he can’t believe what’s happening around him. You follow the path his eyes draw, looking around and back at him. You wonder if this neighborhood is similar to the one he used to live in. 

“Hey,” you finally call out, your voice sounding scratchy. Joel flinches, he crumples the piece of paper and stuffs it in his pocket. “Are you okay?” 

“We need to get out of here,” he answers, fingers tightening around the key, he heads to the garage. You follow. 

When the two of you are inside, you see his resolve finally starting to crack. He pops the hood open, looks inside, and slams it shut. Pressing his palms into the smooth surface, his head falls, body shaking with his every breath. Your steps are silent as you approach him, your eyes trail over the roundness of his shoulders, the dip of his shirt. 

You bite down the inside of your cheek, not stopping until you feel a sharp sting. Holding your breath, you place a hand over his shoulder, gently squeezing. 

He flinches, it’s the most minimal reaction, something you only felt because you were physically touching him. “Is this okay?” you ask. 

Joel nods, his swallow audible. “Yeah, it’s fine,” 

“Can I hug you?” 

He tenses under your fingertips. You don’t make a move until you feel the small nod he makes. “Sure,” his voice cracks. “If you want to,” 

Some part of you wants to ask ‘do you?’ but of course, you don’t. Of all the months you’ve known him, he’s never once verbally asked anyone for anything. If you give it, he’ll take it. Your hand smooths a path down his arm, the other rounding his waist. You take a deep breath as you press your forehead between his shoulder blades, you feel the steadiness of his heartbeat. 

Joel is still tense but less than before. Your fingers curl around his wrist, and your other hand lays right above his heart, nails softly biting into the fabric of his shirt. 

Much to your surprise, his hand covers your own, thick fingers lacing into yours. It gives you courage. It gives you hope. You press further into him, hug him with your entire body hoping that the warmth you provide is enough to soothe him, even for a second. 

“Sorry,” he grunts out, squeezing your hand, he brings it to his lips. His mustache tickles your skin, and he eases his lips into you, something between a kiss and a press of skin. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry all the time, there’s a weight on my chest that never leaves. You understand?” you nod and he continues. “I’m not like Bill. Not in the way he thought that I was. I’ve always been afraid—Even after…”

You feel him shaking his head, and your grip around him tightens. You do understand. You’ve felt it too, but he made it easier, help you lift that weight despite not being a man of many words, his presence gave you strength. 

You want to stay like this forever. Holding him, feeling him. He’s incredibly warm.

“I’m not strong enough,” he lastly says, whispering your name right after. “I can’t keep you or Ellie safe,” 

You feel the brush of lips over your knuckles. He allows you to cradle his scruffy cheek. It feels like a dream almost, which makes you acutely aware of how much he must be hurting right now. Your heart breaks. 

“You are,” you whisper, fingers moving along his beard. “We’re going to stock up, find Tommy, and get Ellie to the fireflies. Then we’re done. Maybe we can even come back here,” 

He scoffs, “How are you always like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Hopeful,” 

“It’s because I have you.” 

You know he’s confused. You can feel it simmering under his skin, face heating up under your hand. He’s confused as to how something positive could be spurred from his existence. But it’s the truth. And he needs to hear it. He needs to know that it’s not only grief, and sadness, that follow his every footstep like a shadow. His strength gives those around him a chance to grow, a chance to be more human. Allowing them to live and relax while he carries the burden. 

His methods might be brutal, and the words he says might cut deeper than a knife ever could, but it comes from a place of a twisted sense of love. 

“We should head back inside,” he murmurs and pulls at your hand. “I’ll make the truck battery and we grab what we can while it charges,” 

“Okay,” you take a step back, already feeling the ache of not feeling him against your person. “I’ll go check on Ellie.” 

Joel doesn’t say a word, nor looks at you, he only nods. 

You still can’t fucking believe it. 

Hot fucking water. 

You’re impatiently sitting in one of the guest bedrooms, Ellie is downstairs, already taken her shower and Joel is still inside, a soft slow of steam slithering its way out of the cracks of the door. 

You sitting there and waiting for Joel to get out isn’t probably the most efficient thing to do but you can’t help it, you feel giddy. Your leg bobs up and down as you wait. The mere thought of having warm water rolling down your tattered skin makes your heart leap to your throat—

The running water stops and your eyes fly to the door. A couple of minutes later it opens. A wet, clothed, Joel makes his way through the steam. It looks mystical, almost. 

He stops when he sees you. 

“What are you doin’ here?” 

“Waiting to use the shower,” you grin, not shying away from openly raking your eyes up and down his body. “Looking good, Miller,” 

He rolls his eyes and pushes his hair back, your pussy bottoms out at the way his biceps bulge from underneath the flannel. “Well, I’m done now. Have fun,” 

Joel moves towards the door and you jump up barely in time to catch his wrist. He raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to meet yours. His skin is still damp, if you were a cat you’d be purring by now. 

“Sit down,” you choke out. “I—fuck—This is hard. I want to—” 

“Don’t hurt yourself tryin’ to come up with words,” he teases and you look at him completely flabbergasted. Joel Miller actually sounds amused. It’s a goddamn miracle. He twists his hand so it’s him holding you instead, locking the door, he moves towards the bed, urging you to follow him as if this was his idea from the get-go. 

“What do you want?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. You’re standing between his spread-out legs, a chill runs up your spine. He reaches out and touches your chin. “Tell me,” 

Instead of telling, you slowly sink down to your knees, fingers moving to unbutton his jeans. He spreads his legs wider as you tug them down, you trail your fingers up his thighs, feeling the soft hairs tickling the pads of your fingers. Joel’s breath hitches, muscles tensing under your touch. He’s semi-hard when you take him into your mouth. His hips buck up as you swallow, swirling your tongue around the head. 

He grows harder with every lick. Your chin strains as you attempt to swallow him whole. You manage to take only half of him, your eyes squeezing shut at the pressure.  Pulling up, you gasp for air. You kiss the side and flatten your tongue against it. Joel cradles your head, thumbs drawing slow circles, he guides you back down to his cock, pushing you further down. 

“That’s it,” he breathes out heavily. “Just a bit more, always so fuckin’ good to me,” 

He forces your gaze up, and his cock twitches above your tongue. You whimper at the way he caresses your skin, so tender, so gentle. “You are too good to me,” he repeats his words from before. “I want you to know that. I ain’t the best with words but…yeah. I’ll try to make right by you,” 

If it wasn’t for his cock in your mouth, you would’ve smiled. Your heart feels so full that it overflows, the muscles of your stomach taut as you sink down, taking him until you feel the soft curls against the base of your nose. Joel holds you there, flush against his pelvis, heavily breathing as you swallow around him again and again. Spit trails down the corner of your lips, nostrils flaring as it gets harder to breathe. 

When he releases you, you pull away with a pop, your lungs burning at the sudden influx of oxygen. You wrap your fingers around the shaft and start stroking him, he moans loudly, hips thrusting into your hand. 

“I want you to cum down my throat, Joel,” you purr. “Use me,” 

And he does. 

The more desperate he becomes, the more stifled his groans get. He thrusts into your mouth, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. Joel fucks deeper into your mouth, balls heavy on your chin as his thrusts become shallow. Your eyes roll back, your consciousness teetering on the edge of blacking out completely. 

With a moment of desperation, you cup your mound, rubbing at your clothed clit. The friction isn’t nearly enough and you let out a moan around his length, the reverberations making his hips stutter. 

Joel spills down your throat with a grunt, he presses his molars together, rolling his hips into your mouth. You swallow greedily. He tastes bitter, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting yourself on your knees to push him deeper down. He hisses, cock pulsing between your lips. 

“Jesus Christ,” he slurs, head falling back. “Jesus fuckin’ christ,” 

He pulls you off with a sharp tug, looking down at you between heavy lids. “You good darlin’?” 

You slowly nod, lips parting with a soft sigh. Your mind is in a deep haze of lust, your body aching to be touched, to be filled. You want to say something, anything, but you’re lost for words. 

“Shit, alright come on— Up,” he grabs you by the arm, helping you to stand on your feet. You shoot him a confused look, which he answers promptly. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Is it alright if I help?” 

It takes you a moment to understand the question and answer, “S-Sure.” 

You stand in the bathroom naked with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Joel wraps his arms around you slowly, still hesitant to touch you. He rests his chin above your shoulder, his torso bare, you sigh blissfully at the skin-on-skin contact.  

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, moving his hand down your stomach. “I thought you were excited,” 

“I am,” you shudder when he drags his nose up the column of your neck, his lips following the path back down. 

“Do you want me to go?” 

You shake your head, “No.” 

He murmurs an ‘okay’ into your skin and gently nudges you forward so you get in. The tiles are cool and slippery. It feels absurd being in such a homey-feeling bathroom after so long. It smells like lavender. 

You stand there, too stunned to move until Joel joins you. He stands behind you, leaning over, naked body pressing into yours, he turns on the faucet, playing with the degree of the water until it pours warm over your skin. 

“How’s that?” he mutters. 

“Good,” a giggle falls from your lips. “It feels so fucking good. Unbelievable,” 

Joel starts washing your body, the touch of his hands has fear behind them. A fear that you might vanish at any second. His fingers trail over every inch of your skin, exploring every curve and valley. You close your eyes, relishing in the sensation of having him this close. He washes your hair, taking his time, massaging your scalp. He moves down to your back, running his hands over your spine, kneading out the tension from your muscles.

His hands move to your front, lingering over your breasts, sending shivers down your spine. He takes his time, leaving no spot untouched. The water cascades over your bodies, swallowing you and hiding you both from the tainted world outside. Wet lips trail the slope of your shoulders, fingers slipping between your folds. He drags them between your slit, circles your aching clit, and repeats. Your head falls over his shoulder, your soft moans drowned by the sound of water. 

Joel holds your chin and turns you until you’re facing him, he closes the distance, molding his lips into yours. His wet tongue follows the seam of your lips and you open up for him, he moves his tongue over yours, licking the inside of your mouth. He swallows your moans and whines as you start to grind down against his palm. 

His tongue presses deeper, and your legs tremble. He grinds the heel of his palm into the sensitive bundle of nerves, groaning into your mouth when slick gushes into his hand. His cock lays above the curve of your ass, hot and hard. 

He grinds into you, his cock pressing insistently between your cheeks. His hands grab your hips, pulling you closer to him, and his mouth moves across your shoulder and neck. His lips find your ear. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his breath heavy and hot against your neck.

“It is. I want to feel you Joel, every inch of you,” 

His hands reach up, cupping your breasts, massaging gently. His thumbs circle your nipples and they harden beneath his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You roll back into him, your body craving more of his touch— of him.

Joel’s hands move down your body, his fingers tracing every inch. “Turn around for me,” 

You move without hesitation. He takes a step back, letting his hands trail over you. You take a step forward, closing the gap between you and he takes you in his arms, his mouth finding yours. His tongue slips between your lips and you moan into his mouth, lost in him. 

You allow your own hands to explore his body as well. He’s firm, arms strong and thick, hips narrowing as your fingers trace a path down within the water droplets that cling to his skin. 

Affectionately, you caress his stomach. You gently press the pads of your fingers into the soft flesh, loving the way his chest heaves. 

The water continues to pour down, creating a soothing background noise. He pushes his cock between your legs, moving through the slickness and sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You move together, bodies entwined and breaths mingling. He lets out a low moan as you press your hips against his. His hands move to your back, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. He pulls you closer, his lips claiming yours again and again and again— He moans as he fucks your thighs. The bulbous head of his cock catching against your clit, the corners of your vision fade to black. Your head buzzes.

Joel continues to roll and grind, cock slipping between your legs with ease. During it, he slips into you, stretching you enough that the pain easily bleeds into the pleasure. He holds you, cock twitching as your flutter around him. You’re dripping and making a mess of him, he feels it. You know that he does by the way he bites into your skin, his growl vibrating across your body. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he says, licking the water off your skin. “Feels so good inside—Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good. I don’t think it’ll ever be enough,” 

“S-Shit Joel,” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your hips meeting his with each thrust. He holds your gaze, fucking himself deeper, harder into you. Pleasure licks the bottom of your spine, heat rolling in your stomach. The water washes away the sweat but you still burn. Joel’s hand moves up to the back of your neck, his hand big enough to press his fingers into both sides of your throat. 

You nearly go limp at his hold, knees bucking at the pressure. But you trust him, and you aren’t at all surprised when he keeps you up, pounding into you as his lips slither down your neck. 

He moves his hand lower, skimming down your stomach and cupping your sex. His thumb circles your clit, and you gasp as wave after wave of pleasure wash over you. 

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to come undone, when Joel suddenly pulls out. His fingers don’t stop, pinching your clit. You cry out his name as your orgasm rips through you, he holds you close as your body jolts. Your body is left confused, empty, yet still clenching as if Joel’s cock is still inside. 

It’s so intense that tears roll down your cheeks, pleasure ripples over your skin, unfiltered whimpers falling from your lips. Your gaze drops to his cock, your eagerness to please loud in your mind. You notice that he’d already came, seed mixing with the water. 

“I got you don’t worry,” he mutters, lips brushing your forehead. “You’re alright, you’re with me,” 

You blink up, eyes finding Joel’s. A lazy smile spreads across your face, the water beating over your skin now cold. “Was that good?” you ask, kissing the bald spot on his chin. 

“You know it was,” when you give him a knowing look, he sighs. “It was good, thank you, darlin’” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” you grin, hands moving up his arms. “Now let’s get cleaned up one last time and get the hell out of here.” 

[wyn-n-tonic]

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: The Lips I Used to Call Home

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 1392 Warnings: I don't think there are any (let me know if I'm wrong). Author's Note: Title longer than a Fall Out Boy song.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist

Calling Boston to Wyoming a quick shot straight through would be laughable. It would’ve been laughable in the before but it is definitely laughable now.

But to do this with a baby?

It’s not just laughable, it’s a goddamn death wish. 

The only way she’s calmest is wrapped up against her daddy’s chest, his large arms folded over her small body. It leaves him unable to do much else but it’s also the only way his own fear leaves his eyes.

There’s luck in the Fireflies, though.

Safe house to safe house, vehicle to vehicle. There’s no thick, rotten scent of the infected near until somewhere in Kansas City. 

He feels useless, like he’s unable to protect the baby or you or anybody else. But despite stewing about sitting in the safe house with you and the baby, he does express happiness over the first alone time you’ve shared in about three weeks. 

“You should be sleeping, sweetheart,” he says, his voice laced through with a tone that says it’s not a suggestion. “You need your strength.” 

The season is giving over from late summer to early fall, every day changing hour by hour with the walking and the driving. It was easy in the QZ, year by year. You knew what to expect, how to rest your body—you could seek rest for your body when you needed. 

You need it so much more every day with the way the weather and the travel is going after your body followed by the stress of it all; the complex emotions this entire ordeal is brought on.

This was never a hope in your mind; leaving, going. Your eyes rolled every time Tommy talked about leaving the QZ, it was the subject of so many fights. He believed there was better and you only believed there was death beyond the walls of FEDRA protection. The longer time stretched on after he left, the more steadfast that belief came to the point that you shook with sobs and fear every time Joel made his trips across to trade.

“I'm fine, really.” 

The bed beneath you isn’t what you’d call comfortable, not in the before times at least and definitely not in comparison to the worn in lump you were used to back in Boston. You’ve been laying together since the moment you settled into the safe house, everybody else going out to clear paths for the trucks to get through.

Baby babbles through sleep in her father’s arms beside you, not once have you called her by the name you ended up giving her. Not since he showed up. And the belief that beyond the walls means death is so hardwired into your body and brain that you can’t find it in you to sleep. That’s why he’s talking about your strength, sneaks you bits of his own rations. 

You’re still breastfeeding, as well. When you can, anyway. It’s been harder on the road and the lack of any real privacy isn’t helping. No matter how he tries to shield your body, the awareness that there’s not just eyes but Tommy’s eyes is enough to run every part of you dry and cold even if it’s getting hotter and more humid with every day you pass into the south.

“You look like shit, sweetheart,” he whispers across the small space between your bodies. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re afraid to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, eyes darting down to your daughter between you. “I am.” 

“I’m right here,” he says, hand smoothing down the hair at the crown of your head. “It’s okay, please rest.” 

They’re gone when you wake.

It's just you in a cold and empty bed, a threadbare excuse for a blanket draped over your sleeping body along with his jacket. Alarm bells go off in your brain and then you hear the voices in the next room.

Joel’s.

Baby’s.

Tommy’s. 

Nobody else, just them.

“She has your dimples.” Tommy.

There’s a small laugh and then Joel says he’s glad she got them on both sides, not just the one. 

Tommy’s voice is tired, weather worn and rough from strain. Not how he sounded this morning when he left.

There’s a hunger in your stomach, growing and aching loud but it stops with every word spoken between the men you love that filters through the thin walls and half cracked door.

“How is she really?” Tommy asks. “Joel, I still love her—“

“How? How can you still love her when you left her alone for so long?” 

“How could I ask either of you to come with me if I didn’t?”

There’s an annoyed kind of grumble that could only belong to Joel and then silence that stretches on just long enough to make you think there’s space to move forward into the conversation but then it breaks. 

“I wouldn’t say that she’s good, Tommy.” You can hear the way his leg bounces to entertain the baby. “None of us are good anymore but, my God, she’s fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Do you love her?” The younger man asks. 

A beat.

Another. 

Two more.

“I feel a whole lot more for that woman than just love, Tommy,” he finally says. “I know you’re hurting but you have to understand that I—we thought that you were dead. She hurt for a long time and I watched her do that and I did my best to be there for her but—“ Baby babbles to interrupt him and you can practically see the smile in the laughter that follows. 

Those feelings, the existence of them, aren’t new to you. Still, every time he insinuates their existence your head gets light—fuzzy and warm.

“But what, Joel?” Tommy prompts him. “I’m trying to understand this, because I want to not hurt and I want to look at this little girl and not want to cry.”

“Yeah.” A chair creaks and you assume somebody sat forward or back. “I want to look at her and not want to cry, too, but I felt that with Sarah—I feel that with you, Tommy, you might as well have been my first kid sometimes. It wasn’t just me that was there for her through all that hurt over those years, she was there for me and refused to let me pull away. Being with her is the closest I feel to who I was before, I need you to understand that.” 

“That's how she made me feel, too,” Tommy responds. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever really understand.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Joel concedes. “Hell, that’s more than fair, you’re probably really sick of us asking you to understand. Can I have Baby back now?”

Confusion floods through you, you were certain the calm, happy babbles were because she was tucked into her daddy’s arm; bouncing on her daddy’s leg.

“Does she have a name?” Tommy asks. “Or have you just been calling her Baby this whole time? I know you’re afraid to get attached, Joel, but—“

“We named her Thomasin,” Joel says, that stern, warning shot in his tone again. Begging his brother to understand this, that this was the honor you could give his memory—that you named what was born out of grief and love for him after him. “We call her Thomi for short but we’ve been thinking about changing it. We figured it would make you uncomfortable.” 

“No,” Tommy answers. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.” 

Hunger grows loud again but so, too, does the blood rush of his words up your neck, into your cheeks and between your ears. For all the tears and all the yelling and the hurt of fresh cuts on closed wounds his arrival brought back into your life, those are the words of the man you once loved. It has been weeks and he is holding her, speaking about her—about you—so gently. Despite saying he doesn’t understand, it’s there in his voice and lacing through every one of his words and it grows stronger each day closer to Jackson.

“I promised her that I’d come back for her, give her a safer and happier life that she deserves,” Tommy starts again. “I’m heartbroken that it won’t be with me, Joel, but I am glad it’s with you.” 

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

Crush On An Archer PT.1

a/n: Hey! Omg long time no see! I kinda maybe lost interest in writing for a bit there but tbh I think I'm back. No promises because I don't want to promise and then break your hearts but also I realllyyyy enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading it! Will def be making a part two in coming days so stay tuned. LMK if you want to be added to the taglist, I am going to put some tags of past taglists below just in case they are interested in reading :) ALSO! Special shout out to @scmg11 because their writing is honestly what made me wanna get back into it. So,,I hope you enjoy!

Kate X Fem!Reader

Concept: Reader has a crush on Kate (school/Uni setting) and she doesn't know how to tell her.

Warning: Cussing, mentions of smut, IM TRYING TO WRITE SLOW BURN BUT BEAR WITH ME ITS NEW!

Word Count: 2.7k

You’re a month into your summer vacation and things couldn’t be more…boring. You love and appreciate your parents dearly for putting out the money so that you could attend a prestigious school in New York with a kick ass archery team but does it ever suck to be this far from all your friends for four months. To make the situation work, your dad had to transfer jobs to another state that pulls in a little more money annually with slightly more affordable housing but that means you aren’t even near the people you grew up around. Rural Mississippi is a fairly big step from living in Boston. Boston at least had people, out here it’s like you’re lucky if you get to meet a neighbour because the land has us all so far apart. In all honesty, although it’s boring, you really have one specific reason for being so bummed out. Towards the end of your last semester, you got started getting closer with one of the girls a year younger on your team, Kate. Typically the older girls competed and practised together and the younger girls did the same. Although you two were only a year apart it’s just how things worked out, so you didn’t cross paths very often. However, one day you were walking home from class, stopped to get coffee and basically bumped into her. The meeting was really brief but it was enough to make you catch feelings almost instantly. 

Your interest in her grew as you followed her on Instagram and she followed back. Obviously you took a peak at her page and scrolled to the bottom laughing at the really cringey posts from 2015 she had still up. All you wanted to do was talk to her again but you didn’t know how, although she was a year younger than you she intimidated you so much. Her deep blue eyes were honestly enough to make you stutter whenever you had the chance to talk to her. A month had gone by already and you could not wait to get back to school so you could see her again. Luckily, coach has yearly “team-building” days before the season starts and they’re about half way through the summer so hopefully you can talk to her before then and maybe convince her to hang out when you come back to school. 

Over the next week or so you liked a few story posts that she’d upload every now and again but the day finally came where you felt like you could swipe up and respond to it…y’know…maybe spark a little conversation. 

“Damn Bishop, is this a new bow?” In response to a story post of her showing off some of her off season training. 

“Haha yeah it is, flips out and everything…it's really freakin’ cool.” She replied almost instantly and that made a giant warm smile come across your face. 

Shit– what do you say back? Your main goal was honestly to keep the convo going so you could subtly mention down the line hanging out with her. 

“Yeah that’s sick, wow I’d kill to try something like that out.”

“Well next time I see you, please by all means give it a shot” She replies back.

“Might just have to take you up on that. How’s your summer going anyways?”

“It’s alright, kind of boring though. All my friends from school move back home and I am working for my mom’s company over the summer so it all is just kind of dull. I miss going out and having fun. Wbu?”

“Yeah, I hear that. I am SO bored here. I would kill to fast forward to the fall, I miss being at school honestly. There’s only so much I can do by myself here during the summer.”

“Ugh right! I want it to be school again too but don’t get me wrong, I love the summer, the weather is great here recently and the nightlife is amazing too. I just have nobody to go with, you know.”

“Yeah I get it. Trust me, if I could be there to go out with you I would, there is definitely no nightlife here haha.”

Shit. That wasn’t too forward was it? She is taking a while to respond to you. She hasn’t even opened the message yet. 

*4 minutes later*

“Well, you’re going to be around for that team-building thing coach has us doing in a couple of weeks right?”

“Yeah, I should be.”

“Well, we can go out then if you want? Me and a few friends had plans but they’re all on the team and I’m sure they’d love to have you there too.”

“Yeah, that sounds great I’d love to!”

The conversation pretty much ended there and your contact with her was fairly limited, just a small comment here or there until you finally got to fly back to school for summer training. You settle back into the apartment you left a couple months ago, everything is still a mess where you left it but the kitchen and living room are even filthier since you are not around to clean up much after your roommates. You decided to wait until your team practice to talk to Kate about hanging out again. You didn’t want to come on too strong but also a small part of you feels like she forgot what she said months ago and you won’t end up seeing her, not outside of team stuff at least. 

You grabbed your gear and headed to the field where practice was being held. You saw some of your friends from last year and decided to catch up with them before coach pulled you all in to start practice. You were trying your best not to make it obvious but your eyes were tracking all around you looking for Kate but she was nowhere to be seen. 

*Whistle* “Okay team! Let’s bring it in. First, I just want to say thank you to everyone for making the effort to come back to campus for this, meeting I–”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY!” You hear the coach interrupted as footsteps are fast approaching the circle of archers. 

“Hi Kate.” Says coach.

“I am SO sorry. My driver was running late and then there was traffic because of a giant accident, I think there was some battle in the streets again, I don’t know, either way, my bad coach, won’t happen again…I promise.” She says with the most adorable grin that is absolutely saying she will be late again. 

“It’s alright Kate, it happens, I was just telling the team how thankful I am that everyone could make the trip back to campus for this.” Coach went on to talk about the drills you were doing for the day and man was it hard to not be in awe watching her. You tried your best not to stare all day because the last thing you wanted to do was make it obvious but fuck it felt impossible. The day came to an end and you packed up your gear, Kate was talking with the other seniors on the team as they were gathering their things and started to head out. You could feel your window closing to talk to her but interrupting her conversation with her friends and “inviting” yourself out with them just felt too weird and uncomfortable. If it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be but you would kill to be able to just spend an hour with her. 

You watched as she started to walk away towards the parking lot with her friends when all of a sudden she motioned for them to hold on a minute and she turned around and jogged over to you. 

“Hey y/n! Sorry we didn’t get to catch up much during practice, I saw your shooting though it’s looking good.” 

Yeah…your face is bright red. Control your shit. 

“Anyways, me and a couple friends are going out later tonight to a party that one of their friends is hosting. It’s like a Hawaiian beach summer nights themed type of party so if you have something like that to wear, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I might have something, I’ll take a look when I get home.” 

“Cool! I’ll text you the address once I get it off my friend and I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah, sounds good!” 

“Here, why don’t you put your number into my phone, I don’t like using DM’s that much.”

You take Kate’s phone out of her hand and fill out a contact for yourself, praying that she can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Cool, thanks, I’ll send you a text in a bit.” She says with a smile and then runs off to re-join her friends. 

It seems silly sitting by your phone and literally watching the minutes tick by waiting for her to text you but that’s all  you could do. The anticipation felt like it was killing you. 

Your phone finally buzzed with a mystery number attached, “Hey y/n! It’s Kate. So…slight change of plans.”

Fuck. Is she bailing? Your eyes were glued on the three dots as she typed and you watched as they disappeared and reappeared. 

“Turns out the party is actually around the corner from my place so if you wanted to just come here first, we could pre-game and shit and then walk over together? My friends said they were going out to get their hair done so they’ll be running late.”

“Hey Kate, yeah no problem that works for me just send me your address and lmk what time you want me there.”

Kate dropped a pin of her location to you with the text attached telling you to come over at 7pm. 

7pm rolled around and you were already there outside but you kind of felt like you should wait another minute or two so you weren’t RIGHT on time. Or is it weird to be a minute late? But wouldn’t being on time be weirder? Whatever, you decided to just wait a minute and then knock on her door. 

Knocking on her door was the most nerve wracking thing you ever did, you were genuinely shitting bricks. 

“HEY! Come in come in!” Kate eagerly yells at you as she swings the door open. She’s wearing shorts with a bright purple bikini top and a button down Hawaiian shirt over top that doesn’t have a single button done up. Are you starring? Yes. Probably? Absolutely you are. 

“Make yourself at home, feel free to grab a drink from the fridge, my roommates are out of town and left all their alcohol so help yourself.” She said with a laugh. 

You heard that right? Her roommates are out of town. Just the two of you…you never know. 

You grabbed a drink from the fridge and took a seat on the couch next to her and yeah…the drink started going down faster than usual because of all the nerves in your stomach. The two of you made small talk for awhile but the conversation started flowing a little more naturally about 2 drinks in. Were you still kind of awkward as hell? Yeah…a little. But at least you warmed up to her a bit and weren’t acting so weird. About an hour later, her friends showed up and grabbed you guys to head over to the party. Honestly, things were going so well with just the two of you that you didn’t even want to go to this party but if it meant you got to spend more time with her then there you were. You got to the party and you honestly knew practically nobody. You weren’t exactly a social butterfly but Kate clearly was. She was talking to EVERYBODY. The boys at the party especially loved her. There was lots of laughing and flirting going on, you could feel the jealousy building but acting out was definitely not an option. You ended up socialising with a few of the other people at the party but for most of the night you stuck by Kate’s side, the two of you got pretty drunk together, pouring shots for one another and dancing in the pit of people to extremely loud music. There was a point where it felt like it was just you and her and nobody else was there while the music was blasting into your ears and the two of you were jumping together to the beat and singing out the lyrics to whatever song was on at the time. Kate got really close to you until some guy would come and pull her away in an attempt to make a move on her. Although, it never actually happened. Kate always ended up finding her way back to you. At one point she grabbed your hand and pulled you into the middle of the crowd as the two of you sang (screamed) the lyrics to “love story” into each other's faces. The party, as all do, started to simmer down. You guys actually ended up being some of the last people at the party, you stuck around to the point where the music was gone and most people were just sitting around chatting halfway sober. 

“Hey, I think I’m going to go home, I am super tired right now.” Kate says to you. 

“Okay, I’ll walk with you, I left my bag at your place anyways so I have to grab it.” 

“Right, sounds good.” 

Although the two of you had been singing and dancing for hours, she looked just as perfect as when you left and you were trying your hardest not to stare at her while the two of you were walking side-by-side. 

The walk back to her place was pretty quick, when the two of you got inside you went to grab your bag and get your things together. You were desperately trying to figure out what to say to her while you were organising your stuff. You didn’t want to come on too strong but you also want to make sure that she knows you had a good time…I guess just tell her exactly that?

“I had a really good time tonight, thanks again for inviting me.” You say as you’re leaning against the wall in her hallway. 

“Of course, anytime. And I did too. We should really hang out more when we come back to school.” She replies. 

Kate walks towards you and stops about a foot away leaning up against the doorframe to her bedroom. The hallway is super narrow and all you can think about is pinning her against the wall while you kiss down her neck and pull her tight by her waist. 

“Yeah I think so too. I guess I should probably head out.” You say as she looks at you with the softest eyes that you swore said “please stay”. You lingered for a second longer as the two of you were looking at each other, tired, kind of tipsy and on the verge of ripping each other's clothing off. All you wanted was for her to actually ask you to stay a little longer but before she had the chance you were already walking towards the door. 

“Have a good night y/n.” She says. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“I will. Sleep well Kate.” You reply as you turn to look at her with a smile and step out the front door. 

That goodbye felt different. It felt like there were still feelings in the air and lots that wanted to be said that wasn't. It felt like the perfect opportunity with nobody around after an amazing night together has passed but you regret none of it. Although you weren’t able to get a confirmation on whether or not Kate even likes women like you do, you knew there was definitely a type of tension between the two of you that she definitely noticed.

-- END OF PT 1 --

Taglist: @yelenaslyubov @youreatotalposer @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @lilroachsworld @inluvwithfictionalwomen @x666hours @natashaswife4125 @onetruwhore @karmasgxrl @hopelesslyfallenninlove @setsuna1415 @swiftdazer @imobsessedwithmilfss @madamevirgo @louisprettybab @splatalia-jumpanova @jediluka @t00manyfand0ms

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part eleven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you get the short end of the stick, but it’s worth it.

a/n: okayyyyyyyyy shit’s getting heavy, folks, but things are chaaaaaaanging. hope you’re ready 😈

word count: 4.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, a lot of angst, a lot conversation, canon-typical violence and injuries (heavy on both), drinking, Joel has more feelings, I love Tess.

if you haven’t already, please read the announcement/follow up I posted about giving Liv a name.

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters✨

Tess likes to talk. You don’t mind; it makes the walk back much faster, and the QZ is within sight much sooner with the easy conversation between you. 

She talks about how she found Joel and Tommy, how they’d been stuck together ever since Kentucky. She mentions her husband, Nate, and you offer your sympathy — which she brushes off — and tell her about Dean.

“With a baseball bat?” she repeats, an almost incredulous look on her face. “That baseball bat?”

“Yep,” you laugh, hefting the thing in your hand. “Kept me alive this long. All those years of softball finally paid off.”

Tess tells you what she was starting to build in Baltimore, and you can’t help but grin. The two of you are more similar than you thought. You return her stories in kind, details of your own ventures. “There are lots of ways in and out of the Boston QZ,” you tell her, “you just have to know where to look.”

You don’t ask about her and Joel, and she doesn’t offer the information. He hangs back the entire time, a good twenty feet behind you, rifle slung over his shoulder. You chance a glance back once or twice, mostly making sure he’s still there, and his hard gaze makes you freeze every time.

This definitely isn’t the reunion you’d imagined. Honestly, you’re not quite sure what you had envisioned, but this sure as hell ain’t it. Fuck, why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?

You lead them through as quietly as possible, using a spot on the wall where the bricks have been cracked, leaving footholds behind for those who know to look for them. You send Tess up first, then Joel, and he waits at the top, grabs you by the arm and hauls you up the last foot. You open your mouth to say thank you, but he’s already released you, turned away yet again.

All right, so this is how it’s going to be.

Through the top level of the building, down the ladder into the alley. You stash your bat and your bag in the same place, tell Tess and Joel to leave their guns there, too. Joel’s reluctant, but Tess smacks his shoulder and he does as you say, that hard look on his face the entire time. 

Your boots splash in the same puddle they had last night. Tess is close behind you as you head out of the alley and skirt down the next building. A few more alleyways, heads ducked, avoiding soldiers and civilians alike, and you head down another alleyway, waiting for the coast to clear before shoving a dumpster aside, revealing a hole in the bricks that leads inside the empty warehouse.

“How did you—” Joel starts to ask, but cuts himself off.

You hold your arm out, gesturing him inside. “Quickly.”

The opposite end of the warehouse faces the gate almost directly. The windows on the lower level are covered with newspaper, shattered in some places, and you peer through one of the missing panes. Beside the main gate, there’s an office, of sorts. Where they take any survivors that make it to the gate, test them, either put them in the system or put a bullet in their heads.

“Wait here.” You prop open the window, slide through the gap and pop back up the other side. No one pays you any mind as you head towards the office, leaning up on your toes to peer through the little window in the door. Nick’s standing inside, staring at one of the old computer screens, and when you tap on the glass, he nods.

You turn back, waving at Tess. “C’mon.” They’re quick about it, and you push the door open once they’re close, following them both inside. Nick stares at Joel for a moment, meets your eyes over his shoulder. You try to school your face neutral, but you can’t tell if you get away with it or not.

“In there,” Nick says, the words blunt, and points down the hallway, to one of the smaller rooms. The office used to be a doctor’s office, you think; one main lobby, a bunch of smaller exam rooms down the hall. Joel and Tess do as he says, and you start to follow behind, but feel Nick’s hand on your shoulder. It makes you pause, and you look at him, turning beneath his hand.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” he asks, his voice low. “Joel.”

You repeat yourself to him a third time. “Does it matter?”

Nick’s brow creases. “Of course it fucking matters, Liv.”

You shake your head. “Just process them, please? Then you can throw me in lockup and this’ll all be over.”

The look on his face says he doesn’t believe you, but you push his hand off your shoulder, step into the room where Tess is standing, Joel sitting in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. “This is Corporal Nick Cowan,” you introduce, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “I trust him. He’ll test you both, put you through the system, and take you back to my place.” Your eyes flick to Joel. “Tommy should still be there.” You turn to look at Nick. “On the off chance he’s not, take them to Deanna’s.”

Nick gives you a curt nod, and you can feel Joel’s stare boring holes in your skull. It’s Tess that finally breaks the silence, concern on her face. “What about you? Why aren’t you taking us?”

“Cuz I’m gonna be in lockup,” you say, and Joel jumps to his feet, but doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t do anything but stare, “for the next two days.” You swallow hard. “There’s enough food at my place for you three, water too. Tommy knows where the whiskey is.” You give a little chuckle, staring down at your boots before lifting your head. There’s something like admiration in Tess’s eyes, whereas Joel is pure fire. You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s fine, really. All part of the deal.”

“You’ve been in FEDRA lockup before?” Tess asks, crossing her arms.

You nod. “Once or twice. I’ve been caught by a couple other soldiers, but I have dirt on most of them. Makes it easier, but this is all part of the plan.” Your eyes dart to Joel before meeting Tess’s. “It’s fine. It’s worth it.”

Nick grabs your arm then, all business, fingers biting into your elbow. “Let’s go. Now.” His voice is louder, and you lift a brow as he pulls you back through the door. “You two, don’t move, or so help me god, I will throw you both right back through that gate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Seriously?”

He stares down at you. He’s angry, you realize. “Seriously.”

Nick yanks the door shut, Joel and Tess staring at you as it closes, and he all but pushes you down the hall to the door, out onto the road, towards the building where you’ll be for the next two days. Lockup. “There were other soldiers in there,” he mutters under his breath. “I had to make it somewhat believable.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure.”

+

Since the world ended, Joel will admit he’s gotten quick to judge. First impressions were hell before cordyceps ravaged the planet, but now they’re even worse, if not more important. But Joel’s met one too many terrible people, and he’s learned to be quick on the draw, quicker on his judgement.

He knows almost immediately that he does not care for Corporal Nick Cowan. At all.

Mainly, he doesn’t like the way Cowan was looking at you. He saw the way he stopped you outside the door, the two of you whispering under your breath to each other, an almost defiant look on your face. Are you two…?

He doesn’t finish the thought.

Joel’s mind has been churning from the moment he saw you, standing there in the gas station parking lot, that fucking baseball bat in your hand. Something else had taken over, something like happiness, spilling into the corners of his heart the moment he had you in his arms again. Alive, breathing, whole, right in front of him. He felt whole, for the first time in a long time, holding you like that. It felt…good.

And then you opened your mouth, and it all came crashing down.

He hasn’t forgotten. He can’t forget that night. The gunshots and the blood and the way Sarah had cried. The way he’d felt her go. It haunts his every step, her voice a constant reminder in the back of his mind. He knew he’d have to tell you, if he ever found you again, and in a way, he’s grateful his brother was the one to deliver the news, but the way you’d said it, the broken apology, the tears on your face, it was too much.

It is too much.

Cowan returns not ten minutes after he’d hauled you off, and Joel gets to his feet when the door opens. The soldier gives him a look, but Joel doesn’t flinch. He’s used to this shit; the FEDRA soldiers in Baltimore were the same. “You can sit,” Cowan says, but Joel doesn’t move. Tess sinks into the chair he’d been occupying. There’s a clipboard in the soldier’s hand, and he flips the page over. “Names.”

“Tess Servopoulos.”

“Joel Miller.”

“Date of birth.”

“April 9th, 1969.”

“September 26th, 1967.”

On and on it goes, until the page is full. Cowan doesn’t look at either of them once, and then takes the scanner from his belt. He’s not gentle with it, the hard press of plastic and the following tingle at Joel’s neck making him wince. The scanner turns green both times, and Cowan scoffs.

“Well, there you go.” The soldier sighs. “Boston QZ works about the same as Baltimore. You work for the community, keep it running, earn your ration cards. Liv will tell you where to find assignments, what jobs you’re allowed to take. She’s responsible for you for now, once she’s out. You stay in her place until she comes back, and we go from there.”

“We don’t get our own space?” Tess asks, and Cowan shoots her a look.

“You wait for Liv,” he says tersely, “and we go from there.”

Joel bites his tongue.

He leads them through the QZ quickly, both hands on his rifle. Joel itches for his own gun, stashed in your hideaway, but forces his hands into fists instead. Tess gives him a pointed look. Don’t fuck this up.

It irks his brain that Cowan just knows where your apartment is. Tommy opens the door after the soldier knocks, and pulls Joel into a hug, Tess afterward. “You made it.”

Tommy steps aside to let them in, and when Joel turns back to the door, the Corporal is gone.

Good fuckin’ riddance.

“Much nicer than the shit we had in Baltimore,” Tess comments, shucking her coat off, and Joel huffs a laugh. 

It’s…well, nice isn’t really the word. The flower wallpaper is something else but the place looks lived in, which already makes it better than the plain walls and nondescript shit they had in the Baltimore QZ. There’s a butterfly painted on the window, a bookshelf built into one wall, another little shelf between the two windows with a radio perched on top. The flower paper doesn’t continue along all the walls, giving way to a yellow colour, the lower two feet of the wall painted blue. There’s a big window near the bed, a tall wardrobe beside it, a cracked radiator, the bathroom tucked beside the bedroom.

Tommy makes lunch, some kind of instant mac and cheese that tastes all too familiar to Joel. But washing it down with a glass of whiskey definitely helps. Tess busies herself looking through your bookshelves, combing through the titles. 

“Where did she get all this stuff?” Joel asks. The shelves are filled with books, but there are other things too, little knickknacks and candles and tchotchkes. A little elephant made of jade. Joel picks it up, rubs his fingers over the carved edge.

“If you’d been listening, on the walk back,” Tess quips, an almost sing-song to her voice, “instead of being an asshole, you’d know. She’s been doing the same shit we have. Smuggling. Looting places that have been deserted. And she’s clearly better at it than we are.”

Joel says nothing, his brow lowering as he puts the elephant back on the shelf. There’s a little glass dish on one of the other shelves, filled with rings of all sizes and metals. Wedding rings, he realizes after a moment, engagement rings.

Tess hums. Joel watches as she reaches down, rubs her thumb over the silver band on her finger.

“Who is she, Joel?” Tess asks, and a zap of cold slides down his throat. “To you. Who was she? And don’t try to bullshit me and say nothing.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, instead of nothing, and walks away from the bookshelf. There are no doors between the different rooms, the living room and kitchen and bedroom one open space with a dividing wall. He walks towards your bed, lets his hand trail over the plaid sheets and blankets and sinks onto the edge, parks himself in front of the window.

He stays there, until the sun sets. 

Two days in lockup, you’d said. You wait for Liv, Cowan had instructed.

Part of him feels like he needs to apologize. He’s going about this wrong, he knows that. But the memory of what he’s lost has risen to the surface of his mind, and made him hurt. Made him all too aware of how broken he is.

With Tess, it doesn’t matter. He cares for her — of course he cares for her — but the line in the sand is clear. It’s stress-relief, comfort, a placeholder for what they’ve lost. Tess lost Nate, and Joel lost you.

And what the fuck did he do to deserve to find you again?

Tess crawls into bed, eventually. She doesn’t say a word to Joel, doesn’t invite him to lay with her. He can hear Tommy snoring on the other side of the thin wall that separates the living room and the bedroom, his brother sprawled on the couch.

He gets to his feet, scrubbing a hand over his face. The wardrobe door creaks as he pulls it open. There’s not much inside, clothing meant more for warmth than anything else, an assortment of sweaters and flannels. He knows he shouldn’t, feels a prickle of guilt up his spine as he drags his hand through the fabric. His fingers catch on something softer than the others, and he pinches blue flannel, striped with white and grey.

You kept his shirt. All this time. Held it close enough to take it with you when you left.

It makes him ache.

Joel wanders into the kitchen, grabs the bottle of whiskey from where it had been left on the worn kitchen table. It’s a mess of coffee cups, pages torn from notebooks, a collage of maps spread beneath everything else. He sees paths marked in red, on the maps, places circled and x’ed out, scribbled notes and times and dates. The kitchen sink is clean, a few plates stacked beside, evidence of Tommy’s cooking still on the stove. The fridge is slightly crooked, from when Tommy had pulled out the whiskey.

He sees it, from the corner of his eye, on the top door of the fridge. Held in place by a magnet shaped like a strawberry.

July 4th 2002

The magnet falls as he pulls the polaroid off, but he catches it before it can hit the ground. The picture is torn at one corner, the edges a little warped, but otherwise intact. He can remember that night. The warm summer air, your head on his shoulder, beer and barbecue in his belly, the awe on Sarah’s face as you all watched the fireworks together. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Joel puts the magnet back on the fridge, but keeps the picture in his hand, sinks into a chair at the table, takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey.

He doesn’t hear Tess until she’s sliding into the chair across from him. He says nothing, another long sip from the bottle as she pulls the polaroid from his grip. She looks at it for a long moment, smoothing her fingers over the edges before handing it back to him.

“Tell me who she is, Joel,” she says again, more of a statement than a question. “Please.”

Joel’s throat bobs. Tess doesn’t often say please.

He blows out a shaky breath. “A ghost,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “To be honest, I’m still not totally convinced she’s really here. That we’re really here.”

Tess grips his free hand, pushes the bottle away. “We are here, Joel. Liv is here.” She squeezes his fingers. “Please, I just wanna make sense of it all.” Tess pauses, leans back a little. “Did you love her?”

Joel just nods, the movement slow as molasses, making his neck ache. “Her parents owned a hardware store, back in Austin. She moved back from Michigan after she finished school, started working in the store, and I met her there. We had one summer, and then she got a job in Boston.”

“You let her go.”

His brow crinkles, and his fingers itch to reach for the bottle, but he doesn’t. “I couldn’t let her stay in Austin just for me, couldn’t let her throw away her future.” He shoves a hand through his hair. He’s still holding the picture. “We spent the rest of the summer together, and then she left. Came back the next summer, and we had another two weeks.” He rubs his thumb over the photograph, the image of you leaned against him. “But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.”

“She broke it off?”

He lays the polaroid on the table, thumb still tracing your outline. “She met someone. Dean. The space was too much, for both of us. I understood. I let her go.”

“And then the world ended.”

Joel reaches for the bottle then, and takes a long swig before sliding it across to Tess. “And then the world ended.”

“So, she’s the reason you wanted to go to Boston.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Tess. “I called her that night, when everything happened. Told her to get out of Boston, that I’d find her. It was never about Boston, exactly, it was just about going East, praying that we might meet in the middle. I looked for her at every QZ, every shelter, every single time I saw a body in the street, I was looking for her.”

“But you found her,” Tess says, her voice low, and Joel forces his eyes to hers. “Joel, she’s alive. She’s right here. Second chances like this…” She trails off, shakes her head. “This kind of stuff doesn’t happen all the time, Miller, not anymore. This is…”

“If you call this a miracle, Tess, I swear to god.”

She scoffs a laugh. “No, not a miracle. But…something. You can’t—”

“I told you who she was,” he cuts her off, that same feeling rising in his throat again. What the fuck did he do to deserve a second chance with you? “Now drop it.”

“Joel—”

“Drop it, Tess.” He shoves his chair back, gets up, heads for the bed.

If she notices him take the polaroid with him, she doesn’t say anything.

+

Stairs are hell.

Every step makes your side scream in pain. The pressure you’ve been holding against your ribs has done little to ease the ache, and even breathing makes it worse. Your mouth tastes like blood, iron and tangy against your teeth, and you know you’re lucky as hell your cheek isn’t broken. Bruised to shit, yes, but not broken.

They were feeling feisty in lockup, worse than you’ve ever had it before. Nick left you with two other soldiers inside, muttering something about disturbing the peace. They processed you, put the charge on your record, and when another soldier came to get you, your stomach sank into your toes.

Angie.

The same soldier who’d been working the pharmacy when you’d gone to get inhalers for Henry. You hadn’t threatened her, not exactly, but you’d made it clear that you could do some damage if she didn’t give you what you wanted. The pharmacy is a no-violence zone; she couldn’t have hit you then even if she wanted to. It would get her in deeper shit than you.

But in lockup? A whole other fucking story.

She grabbed you roughly, all but shoving you through the doorway that led deeper into the building. You don’t think the building was originally like this, all cells and interrogation rooms; FEDRA must have built it themselves. 

You were expecting to get shoved into a cell right off the bat, but instead, she lead you to one of the rooms, pushed you inside and yanked the door shut behind you.

“What are you—”

Your words cut off with the first slap, a hard backhand that made your head snap to the side. You grunted, grabbing the back of a chair inside the room. You had half a mind to grab the thing with both hands and launch it at Angie, but that would only extend your time in lockup.

All you could do was sit there and take it.

Her second backhand made your teeth rattle, pain sparking behind your eyes. You nearly ducked to dodge the next hit, out of instinct, but forced yourself still, tears springing forth as her fist connected with your cheek. Over and over again, you just let her hit you. She hit you hard enough that you stumbled back, tripped over your own feet and the chair behind you and hit the ground. She didn’t waste any time driving her boot into your side, and you just curled inwards, just took it.

You weren’t sure exactly when she left, all you knew was that the blows stopped landing, but the pain didn’t. Two more soldiers came in after, picked you up off the floor, and carried you out of the room. They put you in a cell next, gave you a bottle of water and a blanket. The fabric was mottled with blood when you finally opened your eyes, and your face ached something fierce.

You slept it off, the rest of your time inside. Ate the shitty bread when it was offered, used the water to clean the blood from your face. And then, your forty-eight hours were up, and they let you go.

Part of you expected Nick to be waiting for you outside, but you were happy he wasn’t. You didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything more.

It took ages to get back to your building. Every step outside made pain shoot through your side; you’re pretty convinced at least one of your ribs is broken. And now, fucking stairs.

You almost fall against the doorjamb once you reach your apartment, digging in the pocket of your coat for your keys. You’re fumbling with the lock when the door swings inward, revealing Tess, bright-eyed and wearing one of your t-shirts. “Jesus Christ.”

You actually fall forward then, and Tess catches you, sliding an arm around your waist and dragging you over the threshold. 

“A little help here!” 

Tommy and Joel are both sitting on your couch, and they both jump to their feet the moment they see you. Tommy moves before his brother, and is at your side in an instant, taking some of your weight from Tess. You’re grateful as hell, though the movement makes your side scream in pain. They bring you towards the couch, and from the corner of your swollen eye, you see Joel move out of the way, heading in the direction of your bedroom. You’re in too much pain for it to really sting.

You cry out as they lower you onto the couch. Tommy looks frantic, and Tess disappears for a moment, coming back with a wet cloth. She drags it over your cheek and you whimper.

“She’s messed up,” she says, you assume to Tommy. “They have a clinic here, right? Like in Baltimore.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “saw it when I first got here. I can go—”

You flail an arm out, your hand landing on Tommy’s leg. “Get Deanna.”

You think he nods — you hope he nods — and you hear the door bang shut a moment later. Tess wipes at your face more; guess you didn’t get as much blood off as you thought.

“Tess,” you call softly, and her eyes snap to yours. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut up,” she tells you, her voice almost stern. You want to laugh. “Who did this to you? FEDRA? Cowan?”

“Not Cowan. Pissed off the wrong girl, I guess.” You actually scoff out a laugh, but it makes your ribs sing with pain. “Can’t fight back in lockup.”

Tess’s brow wrinkles. “Good to know it’s the same shit all over in some way, at least.”

You go quiet, for a long moment. Tess holds the cloth against your cheek, and you revel in the cool feeling, letting your eyes flutter shut. The pain throbs with every beat of your heart, every breath you take, but her hands are gentle, almost soft.

“Joel told me,” she says, breaking the silence that’s been filled only with your shaking breaths. “About the two of you, about…before.”

Tears fill behind your closed eyelids, and you feel them slip down your cheeks. “Doesn’t matter now,” you say, trying to shake your head but failing miserably. “He doesn’t…”

“Don’t worry about what he does or doesn’t. He’s a stubborn ass.”

“You two—”

She puts a finger on your lips, shushing you. “I said, don’t worry about it, Liv.” She shakes her head, brow pinched, moving the cloth to dab at the corner of your mouth. “Not right now.”

You hear the door open, and a moment later, Deanna’s face comes into view, hovering over you. “What the hell did you do, girl?”

“Made a deal,” you say, “but it was worth it.”

Through the thin wall, you think you hear Joel sigh, the noise long and deep.

PREV | NEXT

[handsonurknees]

intertwined, sewn together

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this is probably really ooc but this is my first time writing for joel. i really took a narrative approach with this (which i don’t usually do) so if you don’t like it then please tell me! i just couldn’t resist world building…

warnings: touch starved joel, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of getting shot, joel if he was even more babygirl

wc: 1.9k

the sun had just begun to set when you, joel, and ellie had finally found a place to camp for the night. it was a sad dilapidated excuse of a house, but there was a roof and unbroken windows, so it beat sleeping on hard frozen soil. when you first enter the structure, ellie sprints past you, almost knocking you over.

“holy shit! i don’t think i’ve ever been this happy to be in a house with rotting floorboards and broken furniture.” she laughs, flopping down on a stray floral cushion that seemed to once belong to the couch frame against the far wall of the small living room. a wide smile overtakes your face, but when you turn to joel he looks stern, surveying the house.

“yeah well, i wouldn’t get too comfortable.” he states dryly, entering further, the loud stomp of his boots following him. “i don’t trust this place.”

     “you never trust any place.” you tease, but by the way his face contorts into an annoyed look, you can tell he’s not in the mood for teasing. ellie gets up, brushing dust off her pants and grabbing your arm to stay back while he searches the rest of the building. once he’s at least two rooms over, she leans in towards you.

 “is it just me, or is he more pissed off than usual?” she asks

     “it’s definitely not just you.” you mumble out in a huff. 

     “wasn’t he just fine like, two hours ago?”

     “you’re asking me for what reason exactly?”

     “i don’t know. you always fix him when he’s being an ass. it’s like you’re magic or something.” ellie explains. she always does this kind of thing to you. acting like you and joel had some sort of connection; like you and him were two halves of a brain sewn together. really, you just knew him. you knew what made him smile, what made him laugh, what made him angry. ellie obviously knew you two were old friends, but what ellie didn’t know was that you and joel knew each other before the outbreak. back in texas, you had a daughter, one ellie’s age. her and sarah had been in the same classes for almost their whole lives, but when the outbreak hit, you and your daughter fled and managed to get to a small town on the border of arkansas and missouri. there, she had gotten bitten and then shot by the only man you had began to trust since your ex left. that’s when you ran away and ended up in the boston qz, running into an old friend who convinced you to stay. the old friend that you have spent the past 18 years since with. so instead of explaining this all to ellie, everytime it’s just:

    “yeah right.” then as if on cue, joel emerges from the back of the house and looks at you, then at ellie.

    “i suppose it should be fine here. but only for one night.” he says gruffly, his hand instinctively settled on the gun on his hip. ellie pumps a fist in the air and runs deeper into the house. you feel the urge to celebrate a night not spent on damp wet leaves as well, but something stops you. the something that hangs onto that annoyed look and that stern glare. something that makes you reach out.

     “joel?” he looks out the window, yet still hums impatiently in response. “what’s up?” you pry.

     “why you gotta be so nosy?” he snaps, making you take a step back. 

     “i’m sorry, i just worry about you. you know, when you get all standoffish. you’re not alone, joel.” the words come out as gentle, even though on the inside his reaction stings you. the hiss of hot iron against your heart. 

    “well you don’t need to worry, alright? i’ll take care of myself, you take care of yourself.” he retorts, words like daggers in your side. of course joel was classically cynical and rude, but you always had felt he was different with you. no matter how self-centered that sounded, people around you agreed too. joel just so happened to be more tolerable when he was around you, it was a fact. this however, was not the first time he had snapped at you. and even though it happens every so often, it still cuts like a dull knife.

     “okay, joel.” is all you say before exiting the room and search for some kind of pillow or mattress to sleep on. as you dig through musty closets, your brain aches, racking itself for the reason why joel was acting the way he was. each time, you come up with nothing. once you find a pillow and a frayed rug, your mind shifts to setting up a bed.

      once the sun has nested beneath the horizon and the stars come out, you return to your room from ellie’s after she had fallen asleep to you telling stories from before the outbreak. as you take in your makeshift bed once again, a melancholy feeling overwhelms you. this feeling of looking a tattered rug and a dirty pillow in a battered room and being relieved that you have the privilege of sleeping here. a heavy weight settles on your shoulders, one you feel every so often that reminds you that this is how you will live the rest of your life. that you will never see this world go back to “normal”. what really gets you is the thought that this is all that ellie has ever known. or any kids for that matter. and when the sadness becomes to much you can’t hold the tears behind your eyes anymore, you turn around and leave the room. then you find yourself in a position all too familiar, fist hovering over joel’s door. ready to reach out. 

      “is that you, ellie?” he says from the other side of the door in response to your knocking. you could hear the floorboards creaking as he approached the rotting divider between the two of you.

     “no, it’s me.” your voice is small, weary. a voice he recognizes and opens the door for with a sigh. 

     “what’s wrong?” he questions, noticing the glisten in your eyes from tears that had threatened to spill only seconds earlier.

     “you tell me first, joel.” you cross your arms. he narrows his eyes, then reluctantly opens the door more with a sigh, prompting you to enter. when he closes the door behind you and you sit on the floor, he follows suit. 

     “don’t know what you’re talking about. i’ve been fine all day, you’re the one who’s crying.” he gestures to his own face as if it’s your own.

     “oh come on, even ellie noticed you were off. and she thinks you are a perpetual asshole, so obviously you’re more asshole-y than usual.” his face stays flat, not showing any emotion like earlier, but this time he’s actually listening. 

      “there is no ‘reason’ okay?” he hesitates, “i just can’t seem to wrap my head around all this.” your brows knot together for a moment, wondering if maybe he is thinking the exact same thing you are. but then, he continues. “it just feels wrong. i look at ellie, and i see her. and it scares me, you know?” his words are warm with vulnerability, something you know only is heard when he is really, truly opening up. 

     “oh joel…” you exhale steadily to keep composure before continuing. “i do. i know. for awhile, i thought i was trying to replace my daughter, but then i realized something so so important.” you instinctively reach for his hand, not noticing when he jumps from the gentle touch, “we all will have many loves in our life. that’s the way it is for me, for tess, for ellie, it will be that way for you.” he swallows and you feel his hand clam up in yours, but you don’t let go. “it’s okay to heal.”

     “how do you always have an answer for everything?” his voice almost sounds boyish, the way each word leaves his mouth like it might break. “i swear, you are the wisest person i know.” you laugh quietly and break from his gaze, but his free hand shakily finds your face and guides your eyes back to his. “i mean it.” he affirms. you lean into his touch, your laughter settling into a soft smile. 

      “you know why i came in here?” you ask so quietly, as if not to wake up a sleeping baby. his hand falls from your face and leaves a tingle in its wake. 

    “why?”

    “because i don’t know what to say to myself right now, and i figured you might.” you search deeper into his eyes before continuing, “because i think you’re the wisest person i know.” his look of understanding fades and contorts into something more playful.

     “you making fun of me?” he says in mock-offense. “i was just trying to compliment you.”

      “okay, i know it sounds that way, but it’s true. i mean i have have known you for god knows how long, and you still impress me every day. did you know that?” his face falls again, this time into a look of content. honestly you didn’t even know you felt this way until this moment, but you weren’t going to stop now, not when words were begging to escape your mouth. “-and you know me, you know me better than anyone else. you care so much, and don’t get me wrong, you are stubborn as a bitch, but i know you too. i know that you care.” his eyes soften with every word in a way you’ve never seen before. 

     “i was thinking about how life will never go back to normal. we will live the rest of our lives being ecstatic to have a roof over our heads and feeling blessed to have enough food to survive.” you continue, mouth starting to dry up. “and even though it’s depressing and-and awful to think about, i cannot think of anyone else on earth that i would rather be living through hell with, joel.” it gets quiet for awhile, a comfortable silence hanging in the air.

     “i have no idea how i became lucky enough to have someone like you think all that of me.” is all he can say. your brain goes into overdrive by his words and crash into him, wrapping your arms about him. then, for the first time in a long time, he hugs you back. strong arms, secure around you. an apology you accept greedily, reveling in the feeling of his embrace. his thumb carefully tracing circles on your back, his face buried in your shoulder, all things you don’t realize are him feeling the same way you do. when you break apart, when two hearts sewn together rip, when two strings that were once intertwined unravel, you feel the urge for more. feelings you hadn’t known were there brewing in your stomach. 

     then, his hand meets your cheek, and yours meets his, you lean in until your foreheads touch and your noses brush. suddenly everything leading up to this moment is washed over with a newfound clarity. you both shake with a nervousness neither of you had felt in a long time as the gap between two lips is closed and the rest of the world disappears. you had not realized how much you missed the feeling of another person’s intimacy. the kiss wasn’t rough or even necessarily passionate, but more clumsy and gentle. you touched each other like you were made out of glass, careful not to break the other as teeth clashed and unspoken feelings built up over decades were silently spoken. 

    and right then you knew, that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[georgiapeach30513]

A Little at a Time, Part 4

Summary:  life in Boston isn’t what you thought it would be

Pairings:  Andy Barber X Reader

Rating:  mild

Warnings:  language, mentions of cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Alright,” Poppy stands in front of the TV, blocking your view as she grabs up the remote, and clicks it off.  Your eyes turn up to meet her in anger.  How dare she distract your streaming.  “Enough.  Fucking enough.  You need to get off this damn couch.  You need to shower.  Clean up your shit, and get out there and get a job.”

“I have savings.  Can you hand that back, and move?” You make pitiful little grabby hands at her, puckering out your bottom lip as much as possible.  “Please.”

“No.  I don’t care that you have savings.  You’re not wasting them away because you’re laying on this couch eating…what the fuck is that?” Sitting up on the couch, you shrug, reaching for the monstrous cake you had delivered, and were just eating off it.  “Peaches, I can’t…I opened my house up to you because you needed it.  But wallowing in your self pity isn’t going to help anything.  Do you want to talk?”

“About what?” The cake was delicious.  It didn’t take any time at all to show up to your new address.  “This is delicious.  It’s birthday cake flavor.  Hey!” She grabs the fork from you, and sits on the coffee table directly in your face.  “What?”

“You broke up with your fiance.”

“Yeah, well, he was cheating on me.  Seemed like the most logical thing to do,” you take a deep gulp, and look in your lap.  “What was I supposed to do?  And now, everyone in town hates me.  I’m the bad guy.  I’m the one who knew what he was doing.  I ignored the signs, because I really wanted to have my perfect wedding.  And I…well, I have been refusing sex from him, but according to everyone else I was fucking Lee every chance I could.”

“Hmm,” Poppy sighs, looking at you, “Your perfect wedding, but not your perfect marriage,” your face turns up in pain as you let your tears fall from your eyes.  She was right.  You were so focused on that stupid wedding, you didn’t take into consideration how your relationship was failing.  You would have ended up divorced in a couple of years.  

“Did…you don’t have to answer,” she says calmly, reaching for your hand, “Did you want to wait for marriage because it was Cole, and you thought that your virginity would make him not stray?  Or is it what you really wanted?” You shrug your shoulders, because you weren’t sure anymore.  “Or is it because that’s what good girls do?  You know, there’s nothing wrong with sex.  There’s nothing wrong with waiting on the right person, or the right time.  You’ll know when you know.  And your sex life is nobody’s business but yours and your partners.  Cole was the one bringing others into your sex life.”

“I shouldn’t have…I mean, if I had sex with him, we could have been together.”

“Honey, sex won’t make a man not stray.  If he’s going to shove his cock in someone, he’s going to do just that.  No amount of you withholding was going to change that.  If you gave in, who’s to say he wouldn’t just go off with another woman anyways?  Why are you blaming yourself?  Cole did this.  Not you.  You were faithful, and he wasn’t.  That’s on him.  Now, I get your need to mourn the relationship that you thought it was.  But you can’t keep living like this.  You don’t even get out, you’re using the perks of being in a city and having everything delivered.  And you stink.”

You start laughing, despite the tears that create saline trails down your face.  Using your palm to wipe them away, “I don’t.”

“You do.  Take a shower.  If you want ice cream, or food, get out and go get it.  You’re not the first person to go through a breakup.  And you know, if ever there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here.”

“Our situations are different, Poppy.”

“He took something from you,” you shake your head no, still refusing to believe what you knew to be true.  It made things too real.  “You did not consent to that.  He is the one who messed up, not you.  Our situations are different, but I’ll listen,” leaning forward, you wrap your arms around her holding her tight.  “Remember, you came here to start a new life.  Don’t be afraid to start living.  But seriously, you stink.”

There were so many choices of ice cream.  Much more than your local grocery store.  You stand there dumbfounded, looking down the aisle.  You had barely even looked at the selection they had.  Cartons, half gallons, pints, bars, popsicles.  Too many choices, and no Mayfield ice cream.  

Taking a step further down the aisle didn’t help.  Weird flavors.  Where was the one that was like a death by chocolate?  You look up at the ceiling, feeling your emotions get the better of you.  It wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of choosing ice cream, it was just being overwhelmed in general.  This was nothing like living in Georgia.  

You step to the side when a man opens the cooler, reaching in for a pint, and he cocks his head up to look at you, “Are you okay?”

“No.  There’s too many choices.  And I just want to drown myself in chocolate.  It’s colder here.  There’s no humidity, and everyone has an accent, and…” righting your head, you turn to look at him, and get more embarrassed.  He was handsome.  And he wasn’t even looking at you like a crazy person.  He was looking at you as if he understood.

“And I’m making a fool of myself.  I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m gonna go.”

“What about your ice cream?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Uh,” he walks down the aisle a bit more, grabbing up a pint to hand to you, “And, might I suggest going to the end of this aisle.  They have hot fudge, salted caramel, sprinkles, cookie crumbs, whatever you need.  Cherries.  You like cherries?”

“No.  I don’t like what cherries represent.  I hate myself,” you groan.  You were ready to get out of here, and quit showing your ass to this man.  He didn’t know you, and most likely he was going to be glad to be rid of you.

“I don’t know what that means, but if you’re not into this shipped ice cream, there’s a neat little shop a couple of miles from here.  They make ice cream in house.  They have the weird flavors, but also just your classic.  They make these macaron ice cream sandwiches.  I went there a lot after my divorce.”

“You?  Someone divorced you?” He chuckles, nodding his head.  You were unapologetically you.  You didn’t seem to have much of a filter, and whatever you were thinking came out of your mouth.  “Well, what flavor would you suggest?”

“You said chocolate?  They do have a red velvet one, but personally if you’re wanting chocolate, they’ve got one that will rot your teeth out.  It’s chocolate ice cream, with swirls of dark chocolate peanut butter, pieces of chocolate cake, chocolate ganache, chocolate sprinkles, and…I think that’s it.”

“What other chocolate thing could you want?”

“Well,” the man laughs, walking down the aisle, and you are drawn to him.  You wanted to hear this story, but also stay close to him.  “I also asked them to put Nutella and Oreos in it.  Adds a bit more of a texture to it.”

“Sounds like a bowl of…”

“Lots of chocolate.  You want the address?”

“Yes!”

“Breakup?”

“Yeah.  Of epic proportions.  I’m stupid.”

“Not from around here, I gather?” It wouldn’t take much to give away how you weren’t from here.  All you had to do was open your mouth, and you had that long southern drawl.  “I hope the ice cream helps.  Here, let me take this pint, and you go ahead and get the real deal.  Ask for the Andy special, and they’ll jazz up the Trunchbull.”

“What?”

“It’s a Matilda thing.  Lots of chocolate,” giving you a quick wink, you smile at him.  It was a shy smile, but it was there.  

You ponder in front of the wine selection, knowing little to nothing about wine.  You weren’t that big of a drinker.  Every day that you left the house, you realized how big this city was.  Where you came from was a dry county, and could hardly find any decent amount of alcohol without being judged anyways.

Going to Woody’s was this unspoken secret.  It was on the outskirts of town, and if people saw you there, they didn’t mention it.  Boston, nobody cared.  It was like you were responsible for you, and people left you alone.  It was refreshing.  Nobody here knew you, and didn’t care how you grew up.

“Here,” the ice cream man says, coming up beside you.  Grabbing a bottle of red wine to hand to you.  “Brunello di Montalcino.  Great breakup wine.”

You stare at him a moment, noticing just how brilliantly blue his eyes were, before bashfully looking away, “How was the ice cream?”

“Chocolate coma,” you giggle, looking over the wine.  “I got the Andy special.  That you?” He nods his head, and you quickly offer him your own name.  “So what’s special about this wine?”

“Just gets you in your feels.  Perfect if someone chea…well, it’s good.  Play you some music, drink your wine slowly.  Get in your feels and just…have you tried crying?”

“A few times.  Self loathing, uh, ate my weight in chocolate, partly in thanks to you.  Spent too much money on food delivery.  Let’s see, blocked his number.  Screaming.  Screaming helps.  Unblocked his number.  Tried to twist my ring around on my finger, just to remember it wasn’t there anymore.  Did I mention screaming?”

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Andy wasn’t sure why you were so personable, but it was adorable.  You weren’t even offering him a one night stand.  You were just you.  Rambled on a bit, but you weren’t closed off even the tiniest amount.  “Married?”

“Engaged.  Broke up the night of my bachelorette party, if you could call it that.  My cousin, she held a…I can’t tell you that.  She was very mad.  Angry.  Dogs get mad, people get angry.  That’s what my Memaw always says.  You know, I don’t even miss him.”

“So what’s the wine for?”

“I’m pissed off that I wasted time on him.  Thank goodness, we didn’t have a baby.  I would have been trapped with him.  It’s like waking up and realizing that the past few years have been a lie.  A lie you told yourself, your family, the world…well, the town.  Mad at yourself because even though you weren’t happy, you forced yourself to be happy, because….”

“It’s just easier,” you look over towards Andy, and give him the first genuine, non tearful smile you could muster.  “I can tell you, it’s much easier on the other side.  Lying to yourself and everyone around you is a lot of work.  It could always be worse.”

“That’s what my Papaw told me the day I left Georgia.  It could.  I could have given it all up to him, and not feel good about myself,” you and your word vomit.  It was utterly ridiculous how you could talk to this stranger easier than you could your own fiance.  “I’m sorry, Andy.  I’m going to go drink this expensive bottle of wine, and let me drown in my sorrows.”

“No, you’re going to get in your feels.  You’re going to let…Taylor Swift?”

“Eh, she’s not bad, but I really like some Zach Bryan, Tyler Childers, Cody Jinks, Colter Wall?”

“No idea who they are.  Just, get in your feels.  Let the wine and music take over, and keep his number blocked.  You moved a long way to forget him,” Andy was right.  Giving him a wave goodbye, you head to check out, and Andy stares far too long watching you retreat.

He hopes that there was going to be another chance to randomly run into you, just so he could talk to you again.  He didn’t want to be too forward and ask for your number, although it is really what he wanted to do.  He held out hope that he would run into you again, and the next time, he was going to ask for your number.

“Poppy!” You whine, slamming your head into your arms.  It was way too loud in this bar.  She drug you along, even in your baggy sweats and hoodie.  She was working, so you didn’t know why you needed to be here anyways.  It was pointless.  You would much rather be binge watching your favorite show, drinking the rest of your expensive wine, and you had another Andy’s special in the freezer.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say, curling yourself even more into a ball, and right at the bar.

“Would you stop it,” she hisses.  You were such a baby when it came to going out at night.  “You are embarrassing.  I thought it would be nice for you to get out, and meet some people.”

“At a bar?”

“Yeah, it’s what some people call fun.”

“I’m not fun.  I want ice cream and Dean Winchester, is that so hard to understand?” Poppy rolls her eyes, walking to the other end of the bar to take someone’s order.  You were infuriating.  You had at least started showering regularly again.  Migrated into your bedroom instead of in the living room where she had to look at your pitiful self.

“What’ll it be Andy?” She asks, already filling up his glass, and placing it on the bar. Jolting her hip out to stare at him.  “Why are you here?” He shrugs his shoulders, his eyes scanning around the bar.  “Who are you looking for?”

“Just some girl.  She’s new in town.  I keep running into her, and…” he stops when he sees you slumped over on the bar.  He couldn’t be sure if that was you, but whoever that girl was, she was not in a happy place.  She was miserable.  

“No,” Poppy answers shortly.  She shakes her head, rapidly in disagreement.  It’s not that she didn’t like Andy, and in fact you and Andy made perfect sense, but it was the fact that you were still not over Cole.  “That is my cousin,” she mentions your name, and Andy perks up.  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What did I do?”

“You’re the Boston asshole she keeps running into?”

“She called me an asshole?” Furrowing his brows, he looks down at the bar.  Poppy had hurt his feelings, and it actually didn’t have anything to do with you.  “I didn’t mean…I was just…”

“I’m calling you the asshole.  She just said you were hot and nice,” just as quickly as his face had fallen, he gets the biggest smile, and Poppy hits his shoulder.  “No.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re a man.  She’s…different.  She’s special.  Not like any of these girls at the bar willing to go home with the first man, and wanting a one night stand.”

“I don’t want a one night stand.”

“She’s as sweet as her nickname suggests.  Peach Blossom is a baby.  She’s never been out of her hometown, she just recently broke up with a serial cheater, she’s not in a good place.  I haven’t seen her smile since she’s been here.  She needs time, Andy.  She doesn’t need someone like you oozing in your tentacles, promising her big things that you can’t ever fulfill, because you’re a man.”

“That’s so nice of you, Pops.  I’m glad you think I ooze.  And by the way, I’ve seen her smile,” Poppy looks over at you, and you are leaning over the bar, trying to get a bottle of beer, but James the bartender slaps your hand, and gives you one himself.  “You know me.  If she needs time, I can back away.  I’m not like other men.”

“You’ve moved on, and she hasn’t.  When I tell you that she’s different, she’s different.  Just…”

“I’ve got it.  I’ll back off.  Especially now that I know where to find her.  You can’t keep her locked away forever.  I’m just asking for a date.  And honestly, who would you rather her be with?  Me, or any of these other men here?  Look, there’s Sy getting him another one for the weekend.  Would you look at that, Jax with two women.  I came here to look for her specifically.  And I will leave, walk away, and wait for her, when she is ready.  You brought her to a bar, and she looks miserable.  At least at the grocery store, she was comfortable enough to talk to me.  She smiled, and it’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

Poppy purses her lips, while she stares at you.  You were in fact miserable.  Had your hood on your head, and hands in your pocket, while you stared at the top shelf liquor.  You never were a fan of bars, or going on.  You much preferred something quiet, and staying in.  Just like Andy.  He only came here after his divorce.

He only drowned his sorrows in booze after he learned of Laurie’s infidelity.  Telling Poppy he was just happy they never had a kid together.  Andy had a good job.  He was a good man.  He would have done anything for Laurie.  Stayed with her for far too long, even though it was a loveless marriage.  But cheating on him with his best friend, he couldn’t forgive.  

Of all the men that Poppy had met in Boston, Andy was the best.  It was almost as if Cole cheating on you, had brought you here and on a pathway to meet Andy.  The only person you had even mentioned talking to was the very man that was sitting in front of Poppy telling her that he would wait until you were ready.  

“Andy, I’m not going to tell you no anymore.  I’m going to say, let things naturally happen how they will.  I’m also going to tell her to go home because she wants to finish off the bottle of wine that the hot man picked out for her, and watch Supernatural.  I’m going to let her do that, and to quit pushing her to get out there.  It seems she already has.  Just don’t…don’t push her.  She already had a man in her life that did that.  She won’t be getting another one.  She’s special.  She’s younger than me, and I always wished I could be just like her.”

“And I’m going to leave the rest of my beer here, and I’m going to go home, and work on a case.  Give me a minute to leave.”

You take a swig of the beer, and set it down.  Pushing it away from you in distaste.  It wasn’t what you wanted.  You didn’t even want to be here.  You wanted to daydream about the hot man you kept running into, while your favorite show played in the background.  Focusing on Poppy when she finally stands in front of you, “Peach Blossom, go home.  I probably won’t see you until tomorrow morning, but you don’t have to be here.  I’m not going to drag you around anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really.  You’ve been slowly getting out, and trying.  I still want your goal to be finding a job.  There’s a local daycare that is in need of a Pre-K teacher.  There’s a start,” you nod your head, pressing your hands on the bar before pushing your stool back.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right, I needed to get out.  Getting out wasn’t so bad,” you smirk, and Poppy is now well aware exactly why.  She definitely approves, and is thankful it wasn’t some Masshole that had got your attention, but someone like Andy Barber.  Smiling because you two really did make sense.  And Andy now knows how to get in touch with you.

“Have fun with Dean Winchester,” you wave your hand, and turn to leave.  Thankful that you didn’t have to pretend anymore.  You could relax, and think.  Think of a life where you had met Andy before Cole.  Think of a life where Andy was actually interested in you, and didn’t just think you were crazy and heartbroken.  And then there were visions of Dean.  It was shaping up to be a nice Friday evening.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @infatuatedharleys​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @kittycatcait219 @sarahdonald87​ @patzammit​ @elrw24​ @redbloodedgurl​ @cjand10​

[cevansbrat0007]

Cool for the Summer

Summary: What you have with Andy is so much more than just a run-of-the-mill summer fling. And you won't let it be damaged by little things like flies, or a casual dash of outdated ignorance. Andy Barber x Black Reader

Warnings: Light Sexual Themes, Fluff, Cuteness, Light Angst, Protective Andy, Discussions of Race, Racial Ignorance, Racism, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This one might be a little tough for some, so please heed the warnings. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated. All mistakes are my own.

___

“Here we go!” You chirp as you weave your way through several already occupied park tables. “There’s the perfect spot just down there, honey. You see it?”

“Uh, yep. Lead the way, baby girl.” Comes the soft rumble of your man’s voice from behind.

“You sure you don’t need help?” The man had insisted on carrying everything himself. “At least let me hold the drinks or something.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Stubborn man. Of course he wouldn’t. You go to adjust the strap of your white, floral sundress as you make your way over to the table.

“Does my bow still look okay?” You ask, trying to feel whether or not the damn thing was still hanging evenly. You’d already asked him to readjust it twice for you. Not that he had minded, since Andrew Barber was committed to using every excuse in the book to get and keep his hands on you.

“Mmhm.” He replies without missing a beat.

“I can feel you looking at my butt, Big Man.”

“Yep.” He grunts, barely avoiding an accidental collision with another random park goer as he gets lost in the mesmerizing sway of your ass.

“You’re hopeless.” You grumble, not bothering to hide your smile even as you feel your cheeks heat.

“Only when it comes to you.”  

Likewise, handsome.

___

Only when you reach the spot you picked out does Andy finally allow you to help him. Together, you work to get everything settled before taking your seats. He then begins pulling items out of the big, white paper bag.

You stare down at your food as you unwrap it, suspicion clearly written all over your face. After all, just because it looked yummy didn’t mean the damn thing would actually taste good. 

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Boston all this time without ever actually trying a lobster roll.” Your boyfriend remarks as he removes the wrapper from his lunch, which just so happens to be the same as your own.

“Hush.” You mumble, shooting him a playful glare. Holding the roll up to the light you take a moment to examine the famed New England cuisine. “I already told you. I’ve just got this thing about…mayo.”  

“But you like eggs, don’t you?” Andy leans back, casually lacing his fingers through yours. 

“Of course I do! Or did you forget that I made us eggs Benedict this morning?” You hear him chuckle when you pick up a chunk of lobster with your free hand. But what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying your damnedest not to bring it to your nose and sniff it.

Because that would be rude. Especially since you weren’t alone. Or at home. 

“Oh, I remember, baby girl. I remember you complaining about having to reheat everything after you jumped me in the kitchen.” He shrugs, his beautiful blue eyes dancing with mischief. 

“You are such a freaking liar!” You exclaim, momentarily forgetting to keep your voice down. “You were the one who attacked me while I was trying to whisk together the hollandaise and –”

“I mean, that’s not how I remember it. But in my defense, little love, have you ever seen the way your hips move when you whisk?” He presses a kiss to your joined hands. “Especially when you’re wearing just my shirt and nothing else? Shit should be illegal.” Another kiss, this time with an added nip of teeth.

“Whatever. I told you it wouldn’t reheat well.” You point an accusing finger at him. “You didn’t believe me. And to top it off, now you’ve got me trying this…thing. ” You screw your face up at him, trying to ignore the fact that he finds you amusing.

“Aw, Y/N.” Andy coos. “You’re so cute when you crinkle your little nose like that. Look, if you don’t like the roll, I’ll go back and get you something else. I promise.” And you know he means it. Your man wouldn’t bat an eyelash if you asked him to throw everything away and take you to your favorite Asian bistro right this second. 

Not that you’d ever ask him to do that. It was just nice knowing that you were dating the type of man who wanted you to be comfortable at all times. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You tell him, shrugging dismissively. “I’m sure it’s fine. And if it’s not, I’ll just eat my fries.” 

“Shh, Y/N.” Andy murmurs, his thumb tenderly stroking your knuckles. “Just try it. If you don’t like it, I will go back over to that little seafood shack and get you something else.” His gentle tone brooks no room for argument. “Okay, sweetheart?”

So bossy.

“Okay.” You breathe as a warm breeze ruffles through your curls. Summer would be over soon, which is part of the reason you’d chosen to have your date at this particular park. You wanted to enjoy this beautiful weather while you still had the chance.

“Take a bite for me, baby girl. I'm curious to see what you think.” He encourages, letting go of your hand. It then occurs to you that you were probably going to need them both if you really did plan to eat this thing. 

“It’s just so…big.” You muse as you hold it up, poised to take a bite. “All this meat. I’m not sure if it’s all gonna fit in my mouth.”

“Could’ve sworn you said the same thing about me the first time you – ow!” He hisses before reaching down to grasp at his shin. “Shit!”

“Keep it up and I’ll kick you again, sir.” You tell him as you hold up your small foot, loving the way the sparkly polish catches the sunlight. “Please don’t make me mess up my pedicure. It was expensive.” 

And that wasn’t a lie. You’d decided to treat yourself this month, which meant this shit had to last!

“Keep forgetting just how violent my pretty lady can be sometimes.” Andy mutters, absentmindedly rubbing his abused leg. “Kind of turns me on.” And then he delicately grabs hold of your ankle and safely lowers it back to the ground.  “Should I be concerned about that?” He nibbles on a french fry, dunking it in ketchup.

“Probably.” 

And then you do it. Closing your eyes, you lean down and take a massive bite of your lobster roll. 

Go big or go home.

“Oh. My. God.” You moan before diving in once more, making your man chuckle. 

“Is it good, baby?” You look up at him, noticing the way his engaging blue eyes seem to sparkle back at you. “Eh, you got a little somethin’…” 

Ever the doting lover, he picks up a napkin so that he can sweetly wipe away a small smear of sauce left behind on your cheek. 

“There we go, sweet girl. Much better.” 

He has no idea just how much the gesture makes you melt inside. You honestly weren’t sure what you did to deserve this man.

“Thank you.” You whisper, suddenly feeling shy. “It’s - this is really good, Big Man. I was a little worried but…this shit is delicious.” You keep eating, scooping bits and pieces of sweet lobster meat with your fingers when they occasionally fall out of the buttered roll and onto the wrapper below.

“Aren’t you gonna eat too?” You ask, licking at your thumb. 

Jesus, this stuff was good, but it was also super messy.

“I will.” Andrew is quiet for a moment as a french fry dangles loosely from his fingers. “You have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you?” 

Now that takes you by surprise. Not because you were unaccustomed to hearing him say it, in fact it was just the opposite. Your boyfriend was always dropping sweet compliments like that. But what always seemed to strike you the most time and time again was the fact that he…

He actually meant it. Like, it wasn’t just some line he was committed to using to keep you in his bed.

There’s a soft, warm grin on his lips as he cocks his head to the side – his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Andy…” You break away from his gaze to stare down at your meal. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m being serious.” He continues, popping a perfectly fried piece of potato in his mouth. And then he picks up another.

“I know.” You tell him, taking a cooling sip of your drink. “It’s – you’re nice.”

“I’m going to keep saying it.” Your man tells you, using two thick fingers to lift your chin. “Until you start to believe me.” 

“I do.” You murmur, suddenly feeling like you and Andy are the only two people in the entire park. One of your small hands reaches up to wrap itself around his wrist, your thumb resting over his pulse point. 

“Good. Doesn’t mean I plan on stopping any time soon though.” He winks at you then, before finally taking a bite of his food. “Damn if this isn’t delicious.” He takes one more before getting up to excuse himself to the restroom. 

“Be back in a minute, baby girl. If you finish yours while I’m gone then please feel free to help yourself to mine too. Just don’t go wandering off on me, okay?” You can tell that he’s joking. 

Mostly. 

You could tell that he was still dealing with a little PTSD from that time you ditched him when you'd been out on your first date. While it had certainly been a few months since then, your poor Andy Bear still hadn’t fully recovered.

“You got it, handsome. Promise I won’t move from this spot.”

“Thank you.” He breathes a sigh of relief before striding off in the other direction. 

As you sit there alone, you take a moment to dig into your french fries, alternating between dipping them in ketchup and tarter sauce. Maybe you could convince Andy to share a basket of fried clams with you as well. Ooh! And the crab cakes. 

Not that he would ever let you pay for any of it. The last time you’d tried he’d actually snatched your card and kept it in his wallet for the rest of the night. You knew would get your way eventually, but until then, you would have to keep patiently biding your time. 

“Excuse me. Excuse me, Miss.” The sound of someone’s voice breaks you out of your precious reverie. Turning your head, you spy an elderly woman and someone you assume to be her husband waving at you from a neighboring table. 

“Are you talking to me?” You point at yourself. “Oh, um..hi!”

“Hello, honey.” She smiles, waving politely. “Sorry to bother you.”

“No, you’re not, Eva.” Her companion grunts, keeping his attention focused on the crossword he’s apparently working on. 

“Quiet, Alan. Was that –” She struggles to shift her chair a little closer to your own. “Was that young man your boyfriend? I’m talking about the tall, handsome one who just walked that way.”

“Sure is.” You tell her, feeling unable to control the smile dancing across your face. Not that you would want to anyhow. “He is pretty cute, huh?”

“Oh, he is.” The two of you share a conspiratorial giggle. “How long have you two been together?”

“A few months.”

“So it’s new, then?”

“Very.” You nod, swirling your drink around before taking a gulp.

“Oh, Alan. Alan – it’s new. Aren’t they just so cute?” She snaps her fingers at him a couple of times, trying to get his attention. “Alan!”

“No.” He grunts again, which kind of takes you by surprise. 

“Alan!” His wife gasps, looking almost offended as you feel. “Be nice to the poor girl.”

This man, or Alan as it were, finally turns to you then. His cool, gray eyes boring into your own.  

“Look, sweetheart.” Alan lets out a resigned sigh as he neatly folds up his paper crossword and tucks away his pen. “You’re a very pretty girl. You don’t need someone like me to tell you that. And that guy, your boyfriend? He’s a very good looking guy. You don’t need me to tell you that either.” He pauses for a moment as he coughs into his handkerchief. 

Your chest constricts slightly as what feels like a lead weight slowly sinks to the pit of your stomach. 

“And what you two have may be cool for the summer, or whatever it is you young people say these days, but that’ll be it.”

“And why would that be exactly?” The thing is, you had sneaking suspicion that you already knew where this was heading. But you weren’t quite sure.  

“You’re too different. I haven’t even known you for five minutes, but it’s blatantly obvious that you come from different worlds. And despite what the movies and the media tell you, it never works. Because it’s not meant to.”

Alright. Got it. Coded message received.

“It’s just not natural, the two of you mixing like this. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. Trust me.” He shakes his finger at you, almost as if he’s playing the part of a dutiful father warning an errant child.

“Well, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to respectfully disagree with you, Alan.” As flustered as you were inside, and despite the anger coursing through you, you refused to let him see just how affected you were. “It was nice chatting with you, Eva. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going back to my lunch.”

“Oh!” Eva worried eyes flit between you and her husband. “Now see what you’ve gone and done, Alan? You’ve just upset that nice girl.”  

She was right. But you were more than upset. Underneath it all, you were hurt. 

“Eh, she’s young, she’s smart. She’ll be fine.” He waves away his fussing wife’s words as he stands up, obviously preparing to leave.

And of course, as luck would have it, Andy also picks that exact moment to rejoin you at your little table. 

“Hey, sweet girl. Over here making new friends, I see.” He goes to sit down and then pauses, extending his hand to the older man. “The name’s Andrew.”

“And we were just leaving.” Alan informs him, pointedly ignoring your boyfriend’s polite greeting. “C’mon, Eva.”

You shake your head, desperately hating the fact you were allowing one person’s misguided outlook to ruin such a wonderful day out with an equally wonderful man. But sometimes that was all it took, you know?

“Huh?” Andy pulls back, turning his attention toward you. “Did I miss something or..?” He trails off once he finally gets a good look at your crestfallen face.  

“Baby, what’s wrong?” And with that shift, you know he’s forgotten all about the man standing not even five feet away. 

His focus now is you. You are all that he sees as he moves to crouch down beside you.

“Alan, apolgize!” Eva implores him. At least she actually had the decency to look somewhat distraught about the whole situation. “Please. What you’re doing is – it isn’t very kind. This is a new generation. Maybe things might be different –”

But her husband simply isn’t in the mood to hear it. From her, you'd wager, or anyone else for that matter. 

“Son.” He turns to address the concerned man at your side. “I didn’t mean to upset your pretty friend here, not really. You’re a couple of good looking kids. Didn’t I say that to you before, sweetheart?”

Alan waits briefly pauses long enough for you to respond, but you don’t. Instead you choose to cup Andy’s cheek, trying to concentrate on the soft fullness of his neatly cropped beard.  

“You two are having a summer fling. I get it. I don’t support it, but –”

“Why the hell would either one of us give a fuck about what you do or do not support?” Andy snarls, his hackles raised. 

“I’m just trying to warn you because I’ve been where you are.” Surprised by the younger man’s harsh tone, he returns his attention to you. “Look, your Andrew here is lost in the newness of all of this. You’re beautiful, you’re exotic. He’s enjoying a small taste of the forbidden – I know you know what I’m saying.” Alan uses his folded puzzle to fan himself. “Everyone is always so quick to call things racist these days, but what the hell happened to being honest?”

“Hey, my guy. Unless you missed it, I’m a grown ass man who’s quite capable of making his own fucking decisions.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw as he cracks his neck. “And I’ve decided that I want to spend my day, my time – hell, pretty much my every fucking waking hour if she’ll have me – with this gorgeous woman right here.”

Andy closes the distance between them then, their faces so close that their noses are practically touching. ”So, I’m gonna do you a kindness by letting you know up front that I am definitely the kinda guy who won’t hesitate to hit an old man, especially if you say one more disrespectful thing about my girl.” 

There’s no hiding the fact that he’s seething, but you can also see that what he’s experiencing runs deeper. You suspect that he’s feeling helpless in a way that he never has before. 

“Ask your people, young lady. And I bet they’ll tell you the same -that’s assuming your folks haven’t done so already.” He goes to reach for his wife’s hand. But she’s clearly had enough of the spectacle, so she simply turns and walks away. “I guess that’s one thing the races have in common, wanting to spare our kids any unnecessary pain.” 

“But the thing is, Alan, nobody asked for your fucking opinion in the first place.” You hiss, finding your voice again. “About me or my man.” Your hands are shaking, so you keep them hidden under the table. “So I’m not quite sure why you chose to give it.”  

“I was just –”

“Go chase after your wife, buddy, before I fuck around and lose my shit.” Old man or not, you can tell that Andy is struggling to rein in his temper. 

Finally, Alan does the smartest thing he’s probably done all day. He turns and follows the same path his wife took, calling her name as he does. She doesn’t appear to acknowledge him, not that you felt overly compelled to care anyway. 

Now, you were left to pick of the pieces what remained of your date. But at this point, you weren’t even sure if it was salvageable. Maybe you would just ask him to drop you back home. After you made sure he was okay, of course. He would probably need you to reassure him that everything was okay, and that incidents like this would be few and far between, and –

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Andy asks, his heated blue eyes never leaving the older man’s slowly disappearing form. “He say anything else while I was gone?”

But then again, Andrew Barber also wasn’t like most other guys...

“Y/N...what else did he say when I was gone?” His voice hard as he repeats his question.

“Just…more of the same.” You shrug, picking at the remaining half your lobster roll. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” He responds, his deep voice coming out a little more hoarse than it had only moments before. “I would hope you'd know that by now.”

“I do.” You tell him, wishing you could make yourself get up and go to him. Because you knew you were right. Comfort was the way to go here. Except you were finding it hard to do what you thought might make someone else feel better when you, yourself, were also having a rough time.

“Then why are sitting over there like you don’t?” 

“Why are you standing over there like you don’t need me to hug you?” You counter, standing on unsteady feet. “My jelly legs don’t work so good right now.” 

“I can come to you.” 

“Then come here.” You open your arms to him. Seconds later they’re wrapped securely around his middle, and his are around you too.

“What you and I have – this thing we’re building here – is so much more than some goddamned summer fling, baby girl. You gotta know that.”

“I do.” Because you did. Sometimes things really were that simple. 

“Say something else. Something more.” His voice wavers just a touch, almost as if he’s close to begging.

A small sigh escapes as you try to form the right words. And then decide to go with honesty, the usual best policy.

“I don’t just know it, Andy. It - it’s more than that. I feel it. Right fucking here, honey.” Taking his hand, you place it over his heart. “Right here.” You rasp. “Where it counts.”

“Okay.” Your man clings to you even tighter. “Okay, good.” 

You two stand like that for a moment, both of you holding on to the comfort you were each attempting to give the other.

“I love you.” Andy whispers into your curls as his hand smooths its way up and down your back. “So much. And I hope you know that man is an idiot who–”

“Shh.” You interrupt, pressing a finger to his soft lips. “I love you too. And also, there’s a fly enjoying your lobster roll.”

“What?” He chokes on a surprised laugh. 

“Yep and – ope! Now there’s two.” You confirm, spinning him around so that he can see for himself. “Guess this date’s ruined, huh?” 

You bite your lip before brushing your fingers over his furrowed brow, smoothing out the small wrinkles. 

“Ruined. Right.” Your man sniffs. “On account of the flies. And not the casual cup of racist bullshit we just had tossed in our laps like it was nothing.” 

“Nope." You shrug. “It was definitely the flies, because ignorant assholes like that don’t get to fuck up our days.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmhm. Although, I have to tell you, I’m still a little hungry.” You shoo the flies away before picking up your unwanted food and tossing it in the trash. Have at it bugs. And then go to link an arm through his, gently leading him out of the park. 

“You are?” 

You weren’t, at least not really. But you didn’t want things to end this way. Neither one of you deserved that.

“Uh huh. Know any place where we could get a nice, juicy cheeseburger and maybe a couple slices of pie?” You bat your lashes up at him, wanting him to go along with it.

“I do. As long as we can get it to-go that I can hold you while we eat.” You allow Andy to adjust your positions so that you can snuggle deeper into his side.

While you were pretty sure that it wouldn’t be today, you knew you both would eventually be okay. And you could always try lobster rolls again some other time. Either at this park, or at a different one. The place didn't matter.

But your company...now that did.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, honey.”

END

[popquizhot-shot]

Haven't I- 4

a/n :tHANK you all for the love! i'm so sorry it's been a while! but chapter 5 will also be out this week so have fun<3 tell me how you like this chapter! part-3

Ellie had her gun trained on the group of men, gaze unwavering as she stared  them down, “We don’t need your help.”

The man stepped forward and in a flash, Amy was on her feet, her own gun pointed at them as well.

“We thank you for killing those clickers, now please leave us alone.”

The man’s voice was soft. Smooth like honey when he asked, “What’s your name?”

In a moment of complete stupidity, she contemplated giving him her name, but all she did was snarl, “Leave us, or I’l put a bullet in each of your heads.”

In a split second, his eyes seemed to turn animalistic. Predatory. And they softened again. She took note of his hands clenching and how he looked at Ellie.

“Let’s go boys. It’s a long way home.” he turned, defeated.

Without another word, the three men mounted their horses and rode away. The women watched until they disappeared into the horizon

.Amy watched, even after they had gone. The man’s eyes.He was not a friend, certainly not with the way he looked at Elie. 

As they kept walking, she promised herself one thing. If they crossed paths with him again, he’d be dead. 

—

“Here.” you hand Joel some dried meat as you slowed Laila down, “You haven’t eaten.”

He rides past you, “I’m fine.”

With a grunt, you kick Laila into a slow trot to catch up with him, “Just shut up and take it, Miller.” You chuck it at him and he catched it without missing a beat.

You huff out a laugh when he stuffs the entire thing in his mouth like some kind of mannerless brute, “You’re welcome.” 

It’s a bit messed up, but even though this is a rescue mission, it feels like old times when he had taught you how to ride.

After a few beats of silence, he speaks up, “How’d you meet Tommy and Maria?”

You lick your lips, “Maria rescued me. Years before she met Tommy, I was half dead when she found me.”

“And.. Tommy?”

You snort, “We met Tommy when we were scouting the area. Poor guy was shit-scared. I paired them together ever since.”

He scoffs, “So you’re the person to thank for my darling sister in law?”

“She’s a good person, Joel.” You roll your eyes, “Where’d you live before Jackson?”

“Boston QZ. Tommy and I were smugglers before he joined the fireflies.”

“He did tell me that.” you hum, “Ya’ll had a partner as well right?”

He goes quiet then, and you have to internally cringe.Idiot.

“Yeah, we did.” he answers and you nod.

“We’re going to have to ride downhill about half a mile from here. Robby’s jumpy, so be careful.” you inform him and you can sense his relief as his shoulders relax and he nods.

—-----

“I’m hungry.” Ellie whined and Amy reached into her pack and threw a wad of bread at the girl who accepted it and chewed heartily.

The sun set early in winter. Already the sky was dark and the sun was dipping below the horizon. They needed to start a fire and she was bent over a pile of wood and flint in her hand.

With every scrape the urge to go back grew. But then she’d look at Ellie and realise that she couldn’t. The girl meant so much to her. She couldn’t betray her, not after she’d been left alone all her life.

Her brow was sweaty and her hands were smarting. With one final scrape, there was a spark and it took to the wood and dried leaves.

She leaned back against a tree trunk and tried to think of nothing. But her mind just drifted to Joel and to Jackson. It looked like home. 

Her quiet was interrupted as Ellie shuffled towards her and laid her head onto her shoulder. Her eyes softened as the girl snuggled into her. She snaked her hand around the girl and patted her cheek, “Sleep, bug.”

—--------

The fire crackles and they’re a little closer to catching up with Amy and Ellie.

Joel chugs whiskey from a flask, you had stupidly forgotten to get one packed for yourself so all you do is stare into the fire and hope you don’t look as pathetic as you feel.

Wordlessly, he hands the flask to you and you turn to look at him, “You don’t have to.”

He just rolls his eyes and forces it into your hands, “Just have some. It’s cold.”

The drink burns as it goes down your throat and you grimace, “Did Tommy give you the shit whiskey he keeps in his cupboard?”

Joel smirks, “”Tommy said it was the handiwork of some guy called Kenny?

“Ugh.” you groan, “Kenny’s alcohol is ass-”

“-But it keeps you warm.” you and Joel finish in unison and chuckle.

“Tommy’s an idiot.” you take another swig and resist the urge to shudder.

“I’ll say.” Joel agrees.

“He’s a hero though.” you look into the fire and he turns to face you.

“That's what he always wanted to be. He joined the army because he wanted to serve the country. Didn’t do shit.” Joel scoffs.

“I’m not talking Desert Storm, Miller. Nor am I talking about the Fireflies. He’s helped the people of Jackson. They look up to him.” 

“You must know him an awful lot if he’s told you about Desert Storm.” 

“They’re the only family I have, Miller.” you confess. “He’s my brother. Mari’s my sister.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Where do I come in this equation?I’m his brother.”

You grin and look into the blaze once more, “You’re the annoying uncle who visits once a year with gifts and always curses the weather and ‘them darned teenage kids.”

To your surprise, he laughs. “Tommy would definitely agree with you.”

“That’s because I’m right.”

—-----------------

The night had gone by quickly, and by mid afternoon you and Joel had managed to cover a good distance.

“Would you stop humming?” Joel groaned, “At least sing another song. You’ve been destroying ‘Ring of Fire’ for the last half an hour.”

You bark out a laugh, “Can you blame me, Miller? It’s Johnny Cash, he’s the best.”

He rolled his eyes, “Then sing another, and Hank Williams is the best.”

“Fine.” you relent, “And I choose to ignore the second part of your sentence.”

His weak argument was drowned as you began singing the beginning of ‘Jackson’, much to his chagrin.

“No-” “I’m going to Jackson, I’m gonna mess around!~”

“You’re terrible-” “ Yeah I’m going to Jackson, look out Jackson town~”

You hummed the rest of the song and he grumbled, “I should have just gone alone.

“You would have died.” 

“That’s better than this,” he argues.

You clutch your chest in mock hurt, “You wound me, Miller.”

He just shakes his head, “Keep ridin.”

“That’s what she said.” you snorted.

“You’re worse than a teenage girl.” 

“There’s an open free plane here that is good for galloping.” you say and kick Laila into a canter, “Be careful, it’s on the banks of  a frozen lake!” you raise your voice as Laila’s pace increases and Joel is left behind.

—---------

Insufferable. Careless. Stupid. Joel thinks as he catches up with you, the area is covered with snow and there’s a frozen lake on his left.

“There’s a safehouse about a few minutes from here,” you point forward,” With food and firewood. From there we can take a shortcut and meet them in the middle.” saying so you wink at him, mask up and urge Laila to gallop. Leaving Joel in metaphorical dust.

His mouth twists into a small smirk. It’s been years since he’s actually ridden, He adjusts his reins. Heels down. And then he’s galloping.

What he doesn’t account for is the slush on the bank of the lake and the fact that his horse is jumpy. The animal slips and begins panicking. In a moment of fear, his hands flail about. And he calms himself and gathers the reins. He pulls them to stop Robby from moving any further and mutters gentle words to him.

In his peripheral he can see you riding to him, mask up and hood down. He sees your eyes drift to the lake and he does too.

There’s an army green watch lying on its surface.

In horror, he looks at his hands and his watch is not on his wrist. Not where it’s supposed to be. He dismounds Robby and heads for the lake but he can’t breathe.

The watch. Sarah. His watch.

He looks up and you’re running to him. His breaths are short and quick. He feels warm hands on his face and he sees your eyes look into his own. Your voice is muffled but it guides him back into some semblance of sanity. 

“Hey, Hey, Joel. You’re okay. You’re alright.” your thumbs caress his cheeks and you nod reassuringly, “I’ll get it.”

All he can do is stare, like some pathetic little child, as you slowly make your way to the watch. Each step is cautious.

```````

The watch, The damn watch. The very one you’d gifted to him and the one Sarah had gotten fixed for his birthday. It had broken when the two of you were fighting. He had thrust his arm out to prove a point and it flew off his wrist and cracked against the bedroom wall.

All his fight left him as he rushed to pick it up with frantic murmurs and cradled it like it was a newborn. He was so miserable, you’d cupped his face in your hands and he’d apologised profusely.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, this was not the time to think of the past. Each step you took was followed by a creek. Just a little further. How the hell did it manage to land this far?. 

A few more steps and it was in your hand. You turned back and slid it towards the bank where the ice was thicker. Joel all but fell to his knees and picked it up. Fastening it tight to his wrist immediately.

You were halfway back, your mask had fallen and the air was biting despite it being mid-afternoon. Your steps began to waver.

Then there was a deafening crack and the dark cold.

—-------------------

Bang!

“Wide. Focus on your breathing bug.” Amy instructs Ellie and the girl groans. 

“This gun is shit, it doesn’t aim right.”

The older woman rolls her eyes and takes the gun, and ejects the cartridge. Loading the gun again, she assumes her position and aims at the target, “You have to squeeze the trigger like it owes you money and you’re wringing its neck. Breathing should be slow, and steady. Breathe in and breathe out.” She shoots.

Ellie scoffs, “I’m pretty sure you missed.” She looks into the binoculars and gawks, “You bitch.”

Amy can’t help but let out a laugh and she shrugs sheepishly, “Is the gun still shit?”

“Hell yes!”

It’s moments like this where Amy can see Ellie misses Joel. The girl’s eyes are subdued and she hasn’t spoken a word against him like she did almost every day.

She says nothing, only pats her daughter’s shoulder and hands her the gun, “Again, bug.”

She knows there’s a good chance the gunshot will be heard if people are coming after them. And its hard to admit but some part of her wants him to hear. Though it’s unlikely, some childish part longs for him to ride in like some fated hero of old.

Bang!

“Bug, you hit the target!” 

Ellie tries to look nonchalant but there was no missing  the glee in the little girl’s eyes, “Of course I did.”

All Amy can do is huff out a laugh, “Good job, kid.”

````````````````

Everything is cold. There’s a fire in the fireplace and the sound of boiling water reaches your ears. He found the shelter.

Your teeth chatter uncontrollably. The blanket he’s covered you with does little to help.

“J-Joel!” your voice is weak and comes out as more than a whisper. He doesn’t hear it.

You thrash around and kick a stool over, making as much noise as you can. He seems to have heard that because he strides in with a towel and steaming bowl. He kneels down next to your shivering form.

“The-the watch?” you ask feebly as he dips the towel in the bowl.

He doesn’t answer, working in silence as he dabs your head and then pushes your shirt up so that he can place the towel there. The cold of the shirt, as well as the heat of the towel is contrasting and you cry out at the sudden change.

The both of you know there’s only one way to prevent hypothermia and possible death.

He looks you in the eye and you nod, allowing him to raise his hands above your head. You try not to think about the fact that you haven’t bothered to shave in years. But he doesn’t linger. He removes your shirt and lays it out before the fireplace. 

He then moves to unbutton your jeans and its hard work bringing them down, his fingers snag onto your underwear and he pulls them off as well.

Good, respectful Joel pays no mind to your nakedness. He only unclasps your bra and places all your clothes to dry in front of the fire and covers you with the blanket.

He sheds his jacket and takes off his shirt. Your eyes roam the expanse of his chest, littered with scars. You want to scream. You should have been there for him. If you weren’t such a boneheaded idiot that night, none of this would’ve happened.

You  look up when he steps out of his jeans and gets under the covers. After a beat, his strong arms wrap around you and pull you into him. Your hands meet at his lower back and your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper into the crook of his neck and he shushes you.

“Thank you. For doing that for me.” he murmurs. His rough hands travel the length of your arms to generate heat and you relish in the feeling of his warmth. Without realising, you snuggle closer to him. 

Your eyes want to slip shut but you force yourself to stay awake in this purgatory. In his arms, just like you used to be. A chill moves through you and you shiver, wriggling into his form a bit more and he holds you tighter. 

“Rest, Mitch.” His voice is soft. Like honey. Like everything good in this world.

As your eyes close, you pray he hasn’t seen the tattoo on your back. The very one he had on his own.

taglist :@daddy-din @ephemerensis@charlyrmv@bellaramseysbitch@tripovertiff@im-constantly-fangirling@pussy-f41ry@corvusmorte@mrknifess @corpsebridenightamare@chesirecat000@glshmbl@jbcalway@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi@glshmbl @starkleila @love-the-abyss

[le-trash-prince]

OF Episode 6 Thoughts: Top/Mew

I finally got to watch this week’s ep and there is SO MUCH TO UNPACK. I have too many thoughts so I’m splitting them between posts.

First of all: What a fucking episode. I was either laughing or screaming the entire time. I love this shit so much. Everyone in this group sucks!

Mew's bi momma! 🙌

When Mew said “I want you to meet my parents at the end of the year” and then “But don’t count on us still being together” I was like “What the fuck Mew?” LOL. Like Mew, I know you will probably never understand this, but just because you are not seeing anyone else doesn't mean that you are emotionally committed to this relationship. You keep pulling back and giving mixed signals!

“I think the reason I was fine without a relationship was because I got enough love from family and friends” Mew how about you recognize that you’re demi instead of psychoanalyzing your slutty friends!

Tbh tho, I know it's really hard to come to terms with your own sexuality, especially when it's so different from everyone around you. We try to come up with reasons as to why people are different, rather than being able to accept that these differences can be inherent to who we are as people.

I think this episode showed more than any other just how genuine Top’s feelings for Mew really are. And of course this had to be the episode it all came crashing down.

Like the notebook of drawings he gave him? That was super sweet and thoughtful as a gift—ppl prob expect someone like Top to just throw money at his lovers but instead he put time and effort into his gift. You can’t draw someone like that without really looking at them. There wasn’t anything in that gift that said "fuckboy" or “I’m doing this just so you will sleep with me.”

Felt like there was an intentional parallel between Top kissing Mew’s forehead while he was asleep and Ray kissing Mew on the mouth.

I feel like I need to rewatch to process “Mew and Ray get in a fight” and “Ray gave Mew the audio file and Mew believed him”

When Mew and Top got home, I loved how the change and tension felt tangible. Like something about Mew going into the bedroom by himself and leaving Top in the living room spoke to a barrier between them

Mew pinning Top to the bed did a lot of things for me thanks 👍

“I love the way you sound in bed” honestly some cinematic poetry, I was hollering.

As much as I feel like Top was coerced into sleeping with Boston, what can he even say to defend himself with? “I didn’t want to sleep with him?” Well it sure sounded like you did. “I did it because I thought you lied to me?” Yeah that’s not gonna make Mew understand. Lol. Again, I don't know if Top even knows if he's allowed to not want to have sex with someone.

It’s a hard situation with a lot of grey area! And even tho we kind of knew this was how Mew was gonna find out, it's the worst way for him to find out.

Of course Mew is going to be hurt. This is like the worst outcome for him, and it revealed a lot of his insecurities around his lack of sexual experience. Especially after talking big at the beginning "My senses are always correct and I know everything there is to know about love."

I wonder if he even blamed himself for being bad at sex as to why he didn’t enjoy his first time with Top all that much, rather than it simply being that he might not really get much out of sex at all. It's okay if you don't want sex, Mew, or if you don't enjoy it, or even if it takes time for you to enjoy it!

“I’m not worth enough for you to love only me.” Mew. Mew. *shakes him* First of all, Top thinks Boston is a pile of burnable trash. He does not love that man! Second of all, please don’t tie self worth to romantic love or to ideals of monogamy. It is never going to end well.

Again, "I think the reason I was fine without a relationship is because I got so much love from family and friends." Mew are you being honest with yourself? You even said yourself that the reason you slept with Top was because you were worried about him getting bored with you.

I may have mentioned this before, but I think the reason that "mastermind Mew" was so popular with the fandom at the beginning of the series is because people wanted it to be true, because if Mew had seen this coming, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. I don't think it came from "we think Mew is evil or manipulative or whatever," I think we just didn't want to watch a person as naive as Mew get hurt. Because that's what happens the majority of the time in real life. People get hurt.

Sad lonely himbo Top in the bathtub 👍

Overall, I really enjoy watching their relationship. It's very complicated; it's nowhere near as straightforward as a "fuckboy cheats on his virgin boyfriend" plotline could easily be. I don't think they had a solid foundation for their relationship. They enjoy their dates, but there hasn't been a lot of great communication between them, which as I mentioned on a previous post, is very normal, especially for a first or second relationship. And for both of them, I think this is their first real attempt at a relationship, and neither of them know what they're doing.

In the preview, we see a clip of Mew in the bathtub where his expression changes, and it really looks like a symbolic transformation to me. Whether we get revenge era Mew or "let's try this again with more emotional transparency" Mew, I'm here for it.

[petitemistletoe]

Baby Let’s Play House

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, cheating-all the gorgeous dark things :)

Word Count: 1.8K

Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby baby

Baby, baby baby, be-be-be-be-be-be baby baby, baby

Baby baby baby

Come back, baby, I want to play house with you

You and Elvis had grown up together. Your daddy was a public defender and tried with his whole heart to keep Elvis’s daddy from prison but Elvis’s daddy had dug his hole too deep. Your momma and daddy helped Elvis and his momma as much as they could. Some of your favorite memories were Sunday night dinners with Elvis. 

You also weren’t blind. You quickly realized that Elvis was gorgeous and that girls were falling over themselves to get to know him. It didn’t help that he was a true southern gentleman and a musician to boot. The girls of Memphis were practically falling over themselves to get to know him. He knew it, he liked it-even if he wouldn’t admit it-but he never let it get in the way of you and him. He loved you more than anything in the world. He was your first, you were his. You helped each other become sex gods. You had a little phrase that you exchanged every time you wanted to have sex and you were in front of your parents. 

“Hey Elvis, do you want to play house?” You would ask.

“Yeah. Your room?” Elvis would practically race to follow you. 

Then, you betrayed everything when you decided to go to college. You’d always been passionate about school-your daddy prattled on and on about the importance of education-and you were pretty good at it too. You applied to a few schools just on a whim, expecting to go to the local community college like your daddy had but lo and behold you had gotten into MIT. Elvis hadn’t been all that happy for you.

“You can’t leave! You’re the only thing in this shit town that I care about.” His eyes were red. You were sitting on a blanket in his truck bed. You put off telling him all summer and now was the day before you were going to leave. 

“You can come visit me. Boston isn’t all that far and I’m sure you’ll have a route that takes you up there.”

“I don’t care.” Elvis crossed his arms and turned away from you for a minute. You put your hand on his shoulder and whispered,

“I may go to college, I may go to school, I may have a pink Cadillac, but I’m nobody’s fool. I’ll come back and play house with you.” You grinned as Elvis turned back towards you.

“Wanna play house right now?” He said, barely over a whisper.

“Yeah,” you nodded, closing the gap between you and him. He moved so he was on top of you and began kissing down your neck and chest. He helped you out of your dress and took one of his long slender fingers and stuck it inside you. You moaned and grabbed at Elvis’s wrist. With his other hand, Elvis held both your hands above your head and continue to pump his finger in and out of you. The sounds of squelching and your moaning cut through the steady silence of the forest. 

“Baby you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered,” Elvis muttered in your ear as if you had been bending down to pick something up, not near the brink of orgasm due to his fingers being inside you. 

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you moaned. You had some daddy issues. Elvis kicked off his pants and pushed inside of you. He let out a strangled moan as he practically fell on top of you and said, 

“Oh yes mama,” Your daddy issues were nothing compared to Elvis’s mommy issues. After waiting a few minutes, Elvis began to move, faster and faster, pumping in and out of you. You had a hand in his hair and one rubbing your clit rapidly. Elvis had one hand on your throat and the other gripping the side of the truck bed. 

“I’m gonna cum mama,” he gasped. 

“Cum for me daddy,” you nodded. He pulled out of you clumsily blowing his load all over your face. You laughed for a minute before grabbing your sweater and wiping your face with it. Elvis pulled you into his arms and you both lay naked staring at the stars. 

“You may go to college, you may go to school, you may have a pink Cadillac, but you ain’t no one’s fool. Come back baby, come back baby I want to play house with you,” he muttered into your ear. 

Well, you may go to college

You may go to school

You may have a pink Cadillac

But don't you be nobody's fool

Now baby come back, baby, come

Come back, baby, come

Come back, baby I want to play house with you

You and Elvis fucked every time you time you came from school. It wasn’t easy. Elvis’s career took off and your school breaks often aligned with his shows in other areas. You came home once to see Elvis’s mama and daddy while he was off performing in Jackson. 

“To tell you the truth, I worry about Elvis being on the road alone.” Elvis’s mama said, pouring whiskey into her iced tea. You pretended not to notice.

“Now, Gladys, Elvis ain’t alone. He’s got the Colonel!” Elvis’s daddy said, barely looking up from his paper. 

“Yes, yes. That’s true,” Elvis’s mama didn’t look all too convinced but didn’t say anything otherwise. 

“So Elvis will be gone til Monday?” You asked. 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sorry. When do you head back to school?” Elvis’s mama asked. 

“I’m just here for the weekend. You’ll send Elvis my love?” You said, rising from your chair.

“Sure honey. Elvis mentioned he was sending you a package back at your room at school. Be on the look out for it.” Elvis’s mama told you, giving you a tight hug. 

You had forgotten all about the package when you finally got back to school Sunday night. You found it waiting on your front stoop and you had to shake your head and chuckle at the bright pink packaging. You brought it inside and opened it. You were laughing to the point of tears when you saw a very expensive vibrator laying in a bed of crushed velvet. There was also a note. 

Baby girl. Come back to me so we can play some house. But for those days when we can’t, use this and think of me. 

-Elvis

You reclined in your bed and turned on the vibrator. It was large and loud but it send shockwaves down your spine. You were moaning like a porn star but there was something you had to do. You propped the vibrator against a pillow so it would stay right on your clit and dialed the number of Elvis’s hotel room. He should’ve been rolling back into bed before heading on the road the next day. 

“Hello,” his voice sounded sleep ladled. 

“Hi daddy,” you said, “I’m using your gift to play house. Wanna play?”

“Yeah mama,” his whisper turned husky. 

“Oh Elvis it’s so strong,” you crooned.

“Think about me, mama. Think about my hands on your tits, pinching and sucking on your nipples, think about my hot breath on your thigh, think about my nose bumping your clit as my tongue dips inside you. Are you close?”

“Yes daddy!”

“Cum for me, mama.” He moaned. You moaned and came, having to kick the vibrator away out of fear of overstimulation. 

“That was real good,” you said, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Hey Elvis? Who’s on the phone?” A sleepy woman’s voice was in the background. Your heart began to thump in your chest.

“Just my mama, baby, go back to bed.” Elvis whispered back. You didn’t wait to hear anything else, you hung up the receiver and crossed your arms over your chest. It might have been time for you to stop playing house with Elvis. You put the vibrator back in the box and tossed it into the back of your closet.

“Hey darling, I’m back,” you heard someone call. You walked out into the living room and saw your boyfriend put his bags on the ground next to the door.

“Hi Will! How was home?” You asked, giving him a hug and a quick kiss. 

“Good! My little sister was raving all about that Elvis guy. I think he’s gonna be a huge hit. They were playing that Hound Dog song on the radio the whole drive back from the airport. He’s from Memphis too, have you met him?” William asked, taking his jacket and tie off. 

“Uh yeah, I’ve met him.” You needed to stop playing house with Elvis. For more than one reason. 

Now listen and I'll tell you baby

What I'm talking about

Come on back to me, little girl

So we can play some house

Now baby come back, baby, come

Come back, baby, come

Come back, baby

I want to play house with you (oh let's play house, baby)

Now this is one thing, baby

That I want you to know

Come on back and let's play a little house

And we can act like we did before

Well, baby come back, baby, come

Come back, baby, come

Come back, baby I want to play house with you (hit it)

Yeah

You were horribly nauseous on the plane ride from Boston to Memphis. Your stomach was churning like you’d eaten too much banana pudding. 

“You okay, darling? You’re lookin’ a little green,” Will asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“Just nervous about you meeting my family.” You said, trying to flag down a stewardess for some water and maybe an airsickness bag.

“I’ve met them before! I saw them when they came to visit last Fall.”

“I know. But you haven’t met-”

“Elvis.” Will cut you off, “I know. Don’t be nervous. I’m excited to meet him and get an autograph for my little sister. She worships you now that she knows that you grew up with him.” Will was laughing. You chuckled with him but felt like you were one sharp dip from throwing up. 

The nausea didn’t improve when you landed or when you got to your parents house. Elvis’s mama and daddy were already sitting in the parlor but Elvis wasn’t there yet. 

“Oh honey! You’re here!” Elvis’s mama and daddy got up and ran to hug you. 

“Who’s this?” Elvis’s daddy was the first to notice Will. Elvis’s mama also looked at Will with an indistinguishable expression. 

“This is my boyfriend, Will.” You introduced him. Elvis’s mama and daddy shared a panicked expression. You were going to ask about it when your daddy announced,

“Elvis! Good to see you, my boy!” 

“Great to see you too! Now where’s my baby?” Elvis saw you first, a giant grin on his face. Then he saw Will.

“Hi Elvis! I’m Will. I’m a huge fan of yours,” Will beamed.

“Who are you?”

“This is my boyfriend, Will.” You introduced them. You saw a number of expressions pass over Elvis’s face over the course of a few seconds before his expression went blank. 

“Will, always nice to meet a fan,” Elvis said, shaking Will’s hand. 

You all sat down to dinner and felt like things were finally moving in a positive direction. Elvis was chatting easily with Will but there was still a tense energy at the table. You excused yourself to the bathroom and was splashing a bit of cold water on your face when you heard a light knock on the door. You opened it and it was Elvis. 

“I think we need to talk. After dinner.” He said before heading back to the table. You finished dinner and then said, 

“I think Elvis and I are going to take a little walk. Is that alright?” You asked. Will and your parents nodded, but you saw that look again between Elvis’s mama and daddy. You and Elvis walked through the woods by your house in relative silence until Elvis cleared his throat.

“Listen to me, baby,”

“I can’t play house with you anymore.” You shook your head. Elvis put his hand out to stop you.

“Try to understand,” he walked closer to you, until he backed you up against a tree. His hand was on your throat and you cursed yourself for getting wet at the sensation. He leaned his face down so it was right above yours, “I’d rather see you dead little girl, than to be with another man.” 

Now listen to me, baby

Try to understand

I'd rather see you dead, little girl

Than to be with another man

Now baby come back, baby, come

Come back, baby, come

Come back, baby, I want to play house with you

Oh, baby baby baby

Baby baby baby be-be-be-be-be-be baby baby baby

Baby baby baby

Come back, baby, I want to play house with you

You completely dried up. Your heart plummeted into your stomach and your eyes widened as Elvis’s hand tightened past the point of comfort on your throat. 

[callsignspark]

holding hands during a stressful situation for the intimacy prompts with Mary and Bradley!!

hi anon! thanks for sending this one!! I got the best idea for this and I loved the way it turned out!

surprise?

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, mentions of cancer, pregnancy, alluding to abortion, this is set once they’re already together, so many goddamn pet names, also you don’t need to read Mar[r]y Me to read and understand this but you should anyway

word count: 1.6k

note: I'm wandering somewhere around Boston at the moment, but please enjoy this! I'll be lurking when I can so please send stuff! I’ll see you on Monday!

“Honey, please sit down.” Mary is trying her best to be comforting, even as she feels the annoyance creeping up in her chest.

I know you’re scared, but I’m fucking terrified. Is what she wants to yell at him; it’s been a tense week, and his pacing is not helping her anxiety.

But she doesn’t.

She knows how stressed Bradley has been, how stressed he is. He’s kept a brave face on for the girls, but now that it’s just the two of them, she can feel his emotions bouncing off the walls.

“Okay, so based on what you’ve told me, I think our best course of action is to run some tests and see what’s going on.”

“Could it be cancer?”

“Mr. Bradshaw, I won’t speculate on what it could be, there are several things that-”

“I’m just asking if it’s a possibility. Her family doesn’t have a history of cancer, but they’re also not the best at going to the doctor, so who knows.”

Doctor Hong leans back on the stool, crossing her arms over her chest. She must see the terrified look in his eyes because she softens. “Mr. Bradshaw, like I said. It could be several different things that are causing these symptoms. I won’t lie to you; there is a possibility that it could be cancer. But we don’t want to worry about that until we officially have a diagnosis. Other than her recent problems, Mary is very healthy, and I’m confident that we’ll be able to handle whatever is going on.”

Her words during Monday’s appointment had done little to comfort Bradley. He had spent the entire week with his eyebrows creased. It’s Friday, and Mary is starting to worry that it’s going to be a permanent expression on his face.

They both took the day off, leaving the girls in the care of Grandma and Grandpa Mitchell before heading to the healthcare complex. Mary had spent most of the morning going through the tests Dr. Hong had ordered.

Blood pressure.

Urine test.

Blood work.

Pap smear.

Abdomen ultrasound.

Then, she was released and informed that the doctor would review her results that afternoon and call them if anything urgent showed up.

Her phone rang halfway to the house.

Bradley made the first u-turn he could legally make, tires squealing, and now they’re waiting in an office. Mary’s leg bouncing as Bradley paces up and down, across the carpet and back, tenser than she had ever seen him.

“Please come sit with me.” The shake in her voice finally getting him to stop.

“I’m sorry.” He mummers, grabbing her hand and squeezing. “I’m just scared.”

“Me too, Bradley. But it’ll be okay.”

“You can’t promise-”

“Honey, we’ve handled a lot. We’ll get through whatever this is, okay? Because it’s us. We made vows to each other, and I’m not done with you yet.” Her voice cracks on the last part, tears springing to both of their eyes.

“Fuck, I’m supposed to be comforting you, baby doll. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad husband this week.”

“I get it, honey, it’s okay. It’s a bit too similar to your mom for comfort.”

“But that doesn’t make it okay! Shit. I wish I could talk to my parents about this. Dad wasn’t there, but I know he would have been so much better about this than me!”

Mary pulls him in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Breathe, handsome. We don’t know what’s going on yet.”

“Baby doll, I don’t want to sound like a paranoid asshole, but them calling us less than twenty minutes after we left can’t be good.”

Dr. Hong enters the room, cutting off any further worrying. “Hi guys, thanks for coming back in so quickly. Just let me get your file pulled up, and we’ll go through the results.”

It’s a tense few minutes, the clacking of the keyboard grating on the couple’s nerves, before the practitioner turns to them and folds her hands on the big oak desk.

“I reviewed your test results, and everything came back normal. We did find something on the ultrasound.” Bradley’s hand starts to crush Mary’s. “But it’s nothing to worry about. If you could just look at the screen right here.”

All three heads swivel to the monitor on the wall, a grainy black-and-white image showing up. “So everything looks healthy in here, Mary. The only thing we found was a baby. Congratulations, mom and dad! It looks like you’re about-”

Dr. Hong keeps talking, explaining how far along Mary is and what the baby's due date will be, but it’s white noise to the Bradshaws, blood rushing in their ears.

“I’m sorry, wait.” Bradley croaks. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes, it looks like you’re about 13 weeks along. And everything is very healthy.”

“I don’t- I- I don’t…” Mary trails off, her heart racing at the news. “A baby?”

“Yes. If my interpretation of the scans is correct, you’re thirteen weeks pregnant.” Dr. Hong talks slower, used to patients’ shock at unexpected news.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Bradley can hardly catch his breath. “I had a vasectomy last year. I did all the follow-ups and was cleared. How is she pregnant? I mean, we’ve been having a lot of sex, but I’m shooting blanks.”

She’s heard a lot of things in her time as a healthcare professional, but for the first time in her career, Stacey Hong is unsure how to proceed. Mainly because if she opens her mouth, she’s afraid she’ll start laughing at the horrified look on her patient’s face. She has to bite her tongue when Mary slaps her husband’s arm, hissing his name as her face turns red.

Breathe. Don’t laugh. These are some of your nicest patients. Don’t laugh at them. Breathe.

She pushes through, ignoring the last part of his question and addressing the real issue. “Vasectomies are a very effective form of birth control, but unfortunately, they aren’t 100% effective. About 1 in every 1,000 vasectomies fail, and that failure usually reveals itself within the first year following the procedure. So you’re right in that timeframe.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Bradley bends over his knees, running his fingers through his hair before bouncing up like a Jack in the Box. “Mary? How are you feeling? You okay, honey?”

“I’m- I… I don’t know. So, all my symptoms were pregnancy-related? This is not how I was with the twins.”

“Every pregnancy is unique, so it’s not unusual that this time would be different than it was with your girls. We’ll have to wait for the results of your pap smear to be completely sure, but I’m fairly confident that we can attribute everything - including the exhaustion - to your pregnancy.” Dr. Hong stands up. “I’m sorry to rush you, but I do have another appointment to get to. I’ll have Ashley set up a follow-up appointment and get you set up in the system for this pregnancy. They can print off some ultrasound photos at the front if you'd like them. I’ll see you soon; congratulations again, you guys!”

They move at a snail’s pace, slowly making their way to the front desk in a daze. Mary stuffs the informational folder in her purse and grabs Bradley’s hand as they walk to the Bronco. They sit there staring at each other for a few minutes before Bradley pulls the ultrasound photos out of the folder.

“Another baby…” He stares in awe at the low-quality screenshots. “How are you feeling? I know we decided we were done after the girls, but this obviously changes things.”

“Are we too old to have another kid? We were already older when we had the girls, but we’re really gonna be old when this one comes.”

“So we had kids a bit later in life.” He shrugs, shuffling over the bench seat towards his favorite person. “We’re still the cool parents in our forties.”

The laugh she lets out is wet, tears streaming down her face. “Hey, are you okay? If this isn’t what you want, we don’t have to do this, Mary. I’m happy with either way.”

“No, it’s not that, Bradley. I know it’s not what we planned, but now that we’re here, I absolutely want this.” She squeezes his hand. “It’s just hitting me again that I never thought I’d get this life. A wonderful husband who supports me so much. A little group of kids.”

“Still no dog, though.” He mummers, kissing her tears away. “You think Lily will accept a baby brother instead of a puppy?”

“You think it’s a boy?”

“Yeah, I just have a feeling. Do we still have that list of baby names? We’re gonna need it again.”

“Mav is gonna cry again, huh?”

“Give me a minute, and I will be too.”

The kisses they exchange are tender, identical to the ones they shared after they found out she was pregnant with the twins. Happiness radiates through the car.

“There is just one thing I need you to do.” Mary pulls back, smiling as Bradley presses kisses against her face, excitedly whispering about how they’re going to be parents again.

“Anything for you. Whatever you need, mama.”

“You have to call Dr. Lewis on Monday and schedule another vasectomy. This has to be the last one, or we’ll be 60 and still popping out kids.”

“You’d be so sexy as a pregnant 60-year-old.”

“Bradley…”

“I’ll call first thing, baby doll. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kisses him with all the love she has. “Let’s go tell our family we have a new member coming to join us in February.”

@gretagerwigsmuse | @bobfloyds | @hangmanbrainrot | @notroosterbradshaw | @princessphilly | @roleycoleyreccenter | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice

fic tag | Mar[r]y Me masterlist | credit for dividers here

[tradetobest]

dee's january 2024 fic recs

ok so. i thought i'd do a fic rec list every month this year of just my favourite fics that got bookmarked in the month (not necessarily written in the past month) that had just passed... i was a bit busy for the past few days but FINALLY i got the chance to sit down so!!

(if you want to play fic roulette here's some blind links otherwise!! enjoy under the cut

1 2 3 4 5 6)

3:30 by sevenfists

pairing: sidney crosby/evgeni malkin rating: E words: 11k summary: Napping with Sid would be inconvenient, embarrassing, and more than a little gay, and maybe Zhenya was a little gay, but he didn’t need to advertise it.

i LOVE "oh this thing we do together has become a routine now we Have to do it before games" fics and you should too!! this one is So cute i love it....

waiting for confessions of love by catchingpapermoons

pairing: jamie drysdale/trevor zegras/mason mctavish rating: M words: 41k summary: “I’ll be so real with you, man,” Trevor says, pulling back. “I had no fucking idea you liked dudes.”

one thing about me is that i am an absolute sucker for miscommunication and will love it at all costs and this fic DELIVERS!!!! and so well!!

high into the blue by idday

pairing: jack eichel/connor mcdavid rating: T words: 10k summary: Lieutenant John Eichel of the United States Navy – Boston to his squadron and Jack to the people who matter – is reckless and cocky and too smug for his own damn good. But even Connor has to admit that the boy can goddamn fly. (Captain Connor McDavid, Royal Canadian Air Force, is by the book in the worst way, conservative and careful and liable to get himself killed out there. Jack shouldn’t be impressed by him. He really shouldn’t.)

when i tell you i SCREAMED when i got the notif for this fic and then immediately went and watched top gun.,.... if you know me you know anything idday puts out i literally eat up like mceichel is the only thing that will ever sustain me ever again and this was NO exception,,,, always a pleasure to be able to experience an idday fic is what i say

play your heart out by ribena

pairing: leon draisaitl/connor mcdavid rating: M words: 4k summary: Connor loses his heart. Leon finds it for the both of them.

oughh./.. ouhhh.... what even to say.... clutches my heart (lol)...... beautiful..... i literally screamed cried went through it..... please read like literally begs you

nobody wins afraid of losing by adelphenium

pairing: tyler bertuzzi/dylan larkin rating: E words: 12k summary: It’s been almost a year since the first trade. It’s been just a few weeks since they last saw each other, facing off on the ice here in Toronto. In all the months since the Boston run, Tyler’s done nothing but read Dylan’s texts from the notifications bar like a sad and filthy sack of shit, too weak not to feel a thrill whenever a Saw that goal, what a beauty berts or a Hope you’re sleeping ok came through. Or: Tyler and Dylan during the 2024 bye week.

"hey you bookmarked this one on december 31st" IM PUTTING IT IN JANUARY!!!!! PLEASE READ THIS FIC!!!!! not only did jamie adelphenium write it but its just. it has shaped the way i view tyler bertuzzi and sparked a love for mr hockey butt himself..... what a good fic yall please read

reserve your ardors by wrightsworth

pairing: jamie benn/tyler seguin rating: E words: 9k summary: Jamie was in over his head. He had been out of his depth for months if he was being honest, ever since he picked Seggy up from the airport that first time in the humid Dallas air and his Omega genes decided to make themselves known, and loudly.

it wouldnt be me without some good old bennguin and RAHH pining and omegaverse and unrequited-requited and miscommunication like what else could you want in a fic its so good

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Hi! I would like to request number 16 from your prompts list for buckingham (and maybe platonic!stobin involved if you feel like it?)

Thanks!

hello! I know it's been like a month, but I finally got around to editing this so here you are! I went the platonic stobin route because it fits well with the original situation, but I hope you like it

prompt: “Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” “The waitress was what now?” (from this list) Read Coffee Cures on ao3

Since she’d started college in Boston, Robin’s chances to see Steve had seriously diminished. 

Not that Steve was still in Indiana or anything, he’d moved with her, they just weren’t roommates like they were in Indy that one summer, and between her classes and his work schedule, they hardly saw each other. 

However when they did manage to get together, it was always an event. 

They were going to dinner and ice cream near Steve’s apartment, and were fully committed to a night of drinking and bitching about each other's love lives. 

It was going to be a great night. 

“I know I shouldn’t think about her, but you dated her didn’t you? How long did it take to get over her?”

“A while, Robs, but that’s why I’m telling you you need to let her go.”

“I’ve let her go, she’s gone, she hasn’t called me first in months, why should I care.”

Steve gave her an unimpressed stare, but before he could say anything, the waitress walked up to their table. Her name tag read Chrissy, which Robin thought was the perfect name for the bubbly blonde. 

“Did you have enough time to look at the menu?” she asked. 

 “We did,” Steve answered. “I’ll have the BLT please.”

“Alright, and for you?”

“I’ll have the house burger, but can I get that without tomatoes?”

“Absolutely, no tomatoes, got it. Is ketchup still okay?”

“Yeah, ketchup is fine, I just don’t like the texture of tomatoes themselves.”

“I’m right there with you, hon, I have the same problem with cooked peppers.”

“Oh my god, that’s the worst, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, we always find ways to deal, don’t we?” She winked at Robin, who smiled. “I’ll get that right in for you, and I’ll grab you another round of drinks if you’re ready.”

They both gave the affirmative, and she gave them another smile before she walked off. 

“You have been using Nancy as a distraction all night, I desperately need to hear about your roommate that you’re not at all in love with,” Robin told Steve once the waitress was gone. 

Steve stared at her for a beat before scoffing. “Sure, bring up the roommate, why don’t you? I’ve told you before, nothing can happen there. It look long enough to find a roommate, I can’t fuck this up.”

“Even if he’s hot as shit and acts interested in you?”

“And occasionally walks around in just a towel which leaves very little to the imagination,” Steve mumbled.

Robin shrieked and smacked him with a napkin. “Oh my god, you’re joking. Details, I need to know how this happened.”

“Jesus Christ, quiet down and I’ll tell you. My lord, people are staring, Robin.” 

“Sorry, sorry, please continue.”

Half way through his story about the hot water going out when he’d had an irregular day off from work that somehow was way more involved than Robin had expected, the waitress brought their food. 

“BLT for you, and a burger, no tomato for the lady,” their waitress said as she sat the plates down. “Let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

“For sure, thanks,” Robin responded, still mostly enthralled with Steve’s story. 

Steve barely paused either, only doing so long enough to smile at the waitress and focus back on Robin before he continued. 

Robin was putting money on Steve making out with his roommate within a week. Why are their mating rituals so intricate?

“It’s almost like he’s flirting with me, but I think he’s just being nice.”

“So I see we still haven’t unpacked your homoerotic friendship with that friend of yours from high school yet.”

“Leave Tommy out of this, jackass.”

The bickering continued until their food and drinks had all been finished, and the waitress dropped off their check. 

Robin sighed. “Alright, who’s turn is it to pay while the other person argues about it like we haven’t been doing this since high school?”

“It’s mine,” Steve said, pulling out his wallet. “Want to pick up ice cream on the way home?”

“You read my mind,” she said, grabbing her jacket and bag. “Let me go wash my hands before we leave, and then head back to yours for movies, more drinks, and a hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, don’t even say the word, Robs. But yes, exactly that, let’s go.”

The waitress picked up his card while Robin was still there, and evidently dropped it back off while she was in the bathroom. Steve grabbed his copy of the receipt and they went back to his car.

The rest of the night went exactly as described. It was their tradition, and neither of them had to work in the morning. 

Even if they did feel like shit the morning after. 

Steve handed Robin a cup of coffee and a painkiller. 

She grumbled her thanks and flopped down at his kitchen table. “I’m really glad Eddie is out of town, I love the guy, but I don’t know him well enough for him to see me like this.”

“He definitely wouldn’t care, but I get it. He’s a real sweetheart, I promise.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t wait for this guy to fuck you.”

He smacked her lightheartedly, but seemed to brighten as if he realized something. “Speaking of getting fucked-”

“If this is about Nancy, I don’t want to hear it, I will throw up on you.”

“It’s not about Nancy, it’s about someone else who might be interested in you.”

“Literally who else do I know who likes women that I have a shot with?”

“Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” 

“The waitress was what now?”

“Flirting. With you, Robin Kathrine Buckley.”

“The waitress from last night?”

“Yes, that waitress.”

“She was not flirting, Steve, what the hell. Why on earth would you even say that?”

“First of all, did you not notice she didn’t look my way the whole night? She looked at you every time she came to the table. Also, you talked to her about vegetables.”

“So?”

“Robin, platonic love of my life, that’s a conversation you only have with someone you’d be interested in having other conversations with.”

“I thought it was a normal conversation,” Robin muttered. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Fine.” Steve got up and walked towards the door, as if to leave. 

“This is your apartment, Steve, you can’t just storm out.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” 

She heard some shuffling and a noise of triumph before he came back in and slammed something on the table in front of her. 

“That’s our receipt from last night. I’m going to take a wild guess and say I wasn’t the one she left her number for.”

Sure enough, Robin was staring down at the set of numbers scrawled in the same neat, black pen their order had been, alongside another message. 

‘If you need help with the hangover you’re planning, I know a great place for coffee.  X, Chrissy’’

“What.”

“I’d take her up on that,” Steve said. “You look like shit but you can use my shower if you want.”

“I should call her?”

“Robin, if I have to dial the number for you, I will. Call her.”

She dialed the number and prayed to anyone listening that Steve was right. 

“Hello?” a feminine voice answered. 

“Um, hi, I’m sorry, Would your name happen to be Chrissy?”

“Yes,” the voice answered slowly. 

“Okay, okay, sorry, hi, I’m Robin, I think you were our waitress last night, and you left your number on our receipt.”

“Tomato girl!”

“Yeah, that’s me, I’m tomato girl.”

Steve snorted from where he was clearly eavesdropping. 

She ignored him. “Listen, I’d love to take you up on that cup of coffee if you’re still interested.”

“Definitely still interested. How soon can you be at The Brewery coffee house?”

“Give me 45 minutes.”

“Perfect, see you then, cutie.”

The line clicked, and Robin sat frozen in her seat. 

“Are you okay over there?”

“She called me cutie.”

“You’re meeting her in 45 minutes, you need to snap out of it and get in the shower.”

“This is true. Go through my overnight bag and find something suitable for a coffee date and substitute whatever you have to with things I’m sure I’ve left here.”

“Got it,” Steve saluted and went off to find her bag while Robin made her way to the bathroom. 

20 minutes later she felt loads better, and Steve had left a change of clothes on the counter for her. 

“Is this your shirt?”

“Not sure, it’s one of ours though.”

“Cool.” 

She changed and made a checklist of everything she needed before running out the door, promising Steve she’d text him updates and be back for her stuff later with a full debrief. 

As she raced down the stairs, she almost knocked Eddie over as he came home. 

“Eddie!”

“Robin, how are you?”

“Great, can’t stay and talk, but I’ll see you later. And actually,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t do this and let you morons work things out at your own pace, but Steve did something nice for me this morning so this is me returning the favor.” 

She took a deep breath, allowing Eddie’s concerned face to ground her. “You’re not delusional, the feeling is mutual. You should definitely kiss him when you walk in the door.”

“Okay?”

“Great, hope you two finally bang it out! Put a sock or something on the door though, I’m coming back later and would rather not see your bare naked ass.”

“Noted.”

“Bye Eddie!”

And with that, she flew down the staircase and put the door in the direction she knew the coffee shop was.