#siding company jackson

[hello-eden]

Cryptid kid

[ladynicte]

Concept, that during the months where Percy went missing, and the whole Camp was searching for him 24/7, Nico just sorta developed this habit of waiting around Percy's door.

Nico is not really used to spending time in Camp, he doesn't really spend time at Camp at all, and sure, he could go with Dyonisus, or Hestia, but he doesn't wanna bother.

Nico knows, they can tell Percy's dissapearing has really started to affect him.

And sure, he's got his own Cabin now, and he used to be so excited about that, but he's found out, he doesn't really like spending time there, to spend time alone with ghosts and bones, he could just go back home.

But still, Nico doesn't want to leave.

Because, what if they manage to find Percy, or he contacts them somehow, or some other threath comes near Camp, and maybe, just maybe, Nico still has this little hope, that the next morning the doors to the Poseidon Cabin will just suddenly open up on their own, and Percy will come out of them, yawning, with his hair all messy, asking for breakfast.

He knows that doesn't happen, and will never happen, but sometimes, Nico allows himself to dream.

And, Nico knows he could actually just enter the Cabin, it wouldn't even be trespassing, not really, either way, it was Percy who first asked him to stay there with him, who first begged him to stay there, before dissapearing.

But, Nico had said no back then.

And, regardless of whether Percy is there or not, it doesn't really matter, his essence of sea salt is everywhere.

Everything on his Cabin is so quintessentially him, and Nico knows, he knows he could never get too close, he could never allow himself that much indulgence, because otherwise, his bones and blood might just boil, and there will be no more coming back from there.

Nico knows he could get lost on Percy Jackson, and if he does, there will be nothing left to salvage of him, afterwards.

So Nico must tread lightly, stand right in front of the ocean, without ever walking in.

Which, to him, translates into appearing from one of his long travels to Camp Jupiter, jumping out of a shadow, and just sitting down, right in front of Percy's Cabin door.

Nico only allows his back to hit against it, he sleeps with his head between his hands, on top of the blue marble, and that's it.

That's as close to Percy as Nico will ever allow himself to get.

And on the other hand, there's Annabeth.

Annabeth, who's dying of worry, who's hair is greying once more because of it, who feels like everything in the world is her responsibility, and Annabeth, who for the love of all The Gods, just cannot find her boyfriend.

She doesn't let other people see her like this, (Or, she tries to not let other people see her like that, at the very least.) But still, she misses Percy.

Is not just the prophecy, or the end of the world, is not just that the Camp needs both their leaders, and is not just that it's a necessity.

Is that she loves Percy and she can't see him.

So, when she's sure everybody else is supposed to be asleep, and she's breaking the rules once more, just for him, she sneaks out of her Cabin, like any self-respecting Athenea Cabin Leader, shouldn't do, and she runs to the Poseidon Cabin.

And at first, she's not sure if it's the Mist, or it's the darkness, or if she's way too tired, and way too overworked, and her eyes are starting to deceive her, but she's sure she sees it.

A little dark shadow, cuddling to the door, like a puppy begging to be let inside, in the middle of a storm.

Against her own instincts, she decides the best tactic is to approach it gently, later on, she's thankful once more to her mother.

Because, Annabeth doesn't know what Nico di Angelo would have done to her, if she suddenly ambushed him while he was dead asleep.

They decide not to talk about it, Annabeth notices the trees and grass around them starting to die, she wonders if Nico can kill even the plants buried deep under the sea.

She doesn't ask.

Instead, they both sit in silence together.

This is probably the most accompanied Annabeth has felt in ages, which is really odd, because sure she knows Nico isn't a bad person, but he still scares her, like the night, and the spiders, back when she was little.

Nico understands neither of them wants to leave, but he would, if only he wasn't so damn tired all the time, he knows he shouldn't shadowtravel so much, but if his body, and his health, are the toll for finding Percy, then so be it.

This pattern repeats every night ever since.

Nico sleeps on the entrance to Percy's door, but never goes in, Annabeth always finds him, but she never speaks.

Eventually, Annabeth starts noticing the way Nico's bones pop, barely visible underneath his dark shirt, or the way his eyebags seem heavier and darker, like a growing bruise on his face every night, the way his veins show through his pale skin, and the way he never eats, well, anything at all, really.

And just the same, Nico notices her grey hairs, the chunks of it that just randomly fall off due to stress, her dirty clothes, the way she can go almost a week straight without remembering to shower, or brush her teeth, the bruises on her body, thanks to all the excersice she's forcing her body to stand, the eyebags that only grow, and grow.

They both know they need to actually sleep at some point.

And sleep for real, not just pass out from exhaustion on Percy's floor from time to time.

Nico has never been the sort to blink first though, so Annabeth understands, negotiations here, are gonna have to fall onto her.

She tells Nico that they need to sleep, like actually quality sleep.

Nico only nods, he doesn't look like he's paying attention to her, but Annabeth's brain has already come up with the most pragmatic, and powerful strategy, to achieve what she wants right now.

Annabeth stands up, and goes back to her Cabin, not without first warning Nico that she will be back in five minutes.

Nico doesn't look like he believes her. Annabeth understands he has got no reason to believe her, it makes the strategy all the more important.

But first, not without terrorizing herself with what she's planning to do.

She sneaks back into her bed, and quietly opens the tiny backpack, that her dad helped her put together, back in their house, before she arrived back home.

She grabs her precious little bag, she opens it, and she sighs.

Annabeth shuts her eyes, and forces herself, to carry her own plan to fruition.

She comes back to Nico, with Percy's shirt, well-carried, on her hands, well, one of his shirts, his preferred Camp Half-Blood shirt.

Percy had given it to Annabeth, before she left to go live with her dad, as a sorta remember-me-by, and Annabeth had never taken it out of its package, for anything at all.

She took it everywhere with her, like a sacred symbol, of some sort of home.

And Annabeth couldn't lie, and say she wasn't scared, mostly, because Nico's stare scared her a little, she thought, if anybody would be able to call her bluff, it wouldn't be Percy, it would be Nico.

(Annabeth was also sure, Nico had a completely clear sight from birth, but that was neither here nor there.)

Her fear wasn't of Nico, though, her fear was on holding the shirt, and not being able to let go.

Of holding onto it, and ruining it, with her strong warrior hands, and her desperation, that ran organs-deep, because she knew the logical outcome here, once she grabbed it, it would eventually stop smelling like Percy, and she would hate it, and then, the illogical outcome she feared so much, that if she lost this one shirt, she would lose all connection to Percy.

And that, would kill her.

And then, it would be like she had never even met him, gone with the wind, lost at sea, like a dream, she would be left with no way to prove, she once knew a boy named Percy who saved the world.

Who loved her just as she loved him.

After that, what would Annabeth even do with herself, anymore.

That all is completely irrational, Illogical, and impossible, Annabeth understands that too, so she forces her legs to keep on moving.

She stops before Nico, and presents the shirt to him, and it isn't lost on Annabeth, the way Nico almost backs off in surprise, and the way his lips open, just ever so slightly, and the way his one visible eye gets wide, and the way Nico's cheeks get this sorta, cutesy rosey, tint to them.

And she's sure she understands, but she cannot make herself deal with that right now.

She tells him "Let's find neutral territory for the moment." She's not sure if she knows what the moment even is.

But still, Annabeth grabs his hand, and against all odds, she's surprised, as Nico allows her to, and she has to force herself not to shiver, because Nico is cold as a corpse, and Annabeth knows way too well, just how quickly corpses get cold.

Nico knows it far far better.

Nico notices. He already knows. He always does.

He doesn't judge her for it, he hates himself too much for it.

Annabeth stops them on a grass patch, some pond nymphs near by, and she can see the nymphs snarling at Nico, and for some reason, she feels so angry all of a sudden, because Annabeth knows, it's not like Nico has ever actually done anything to them.

Annabeth is suddenly reminded of her first big fight with Hera, of screaming at her face, that Nico did belong, back then, it felt so instinctively true.

Now, Annabeth could see the way the Camp died away at his presence, the way the rest of the kids never approached him, unless they needed Nico's help for something.

And yet, Nico did always help them.

Before Annabeth can catch herself, she's already running towards the nymphs, her fists raised, and she knows there was a time where not every single little thing, disturbed her like this, but Nico just grabs her arm, and this time, Annabeth can't hold back the shivers because he's so so cold, and so strong.

Nico quietly tells her, for all to hear "They are just scared, it's fine."

Annabeth knows she can't blame them, because she's scared too, and Nico knows it.

Annabeth slaps her head, forcing herself to back down, she makes herself keep glaring at the pond, but her angry stare just doesn't hold, as she slowly, but surely, forces the shirt done her frame.

Annabeth wants so badly to hold onto it and make it eternal.

The shirt is old, it's only a little oversized on her, it smells exactly like Percy, exactly like the sea.

She's a strong girl, Annabeth doesn't cry, but if she does cry, Nico isn't gonna tell on her with anybody, either way.

After a while, where nobody says anything, where Nico only stares at her:

Annabeth lays quietly on the grass, her eyes wide open, on the moon, and she spreads her arms wide, she can hold them open for an eternity, if that's what it takes until Nico accepts it.

It does feel like an eternity, a little bit like holding the weight of the world in her shoulders, before Nico, looking like a mysterious shadow, slips into her arms.

They don't talk about it, but they can hear their hearts beating way too fast, and way too loud.

Nico has his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, and Annabeth has got to remind herself, that he's holding onto Percy's shirt, not onto her, there's a part of her, that's curious to see, to try to test Nico's limits, to toss the shirt at a fire, and watch Nico chase after it.

But she loves this damn shirt far too much to ever do something like that.

Slowly, Annabeth lowers her own arms, and she's holding onto Nico's hair now, his head heavy between her hands, and Nico is holding onto Percy, which leaves Annabeth wondering, what exactly is her excuse then, in their situation.

At some point, her eyes close, and she doesn't even notice it.

It's the first night of true sleep Nico has gotten in a really long time, for once, not searching for Percy even in his dreams.

The next morning he has breakfast, that he doesn't really eat, but he stays, and it occurs to Annabeth, that Nico staying anywhere, was everything Percy had ever wanted.

She would have to brag about it to him, once Percy got back.

Percy and Nico never admit it out loud.

They understand they are doing something odd.

But Annabeth keeps wearing the shirt, and Nico keeps falling asleep by her side, and there's no excuse to it, anymore, they both can tell the shirt has long since, stopped smelling like Percy and sea salt, and started smelling like shampoo, and Nico's rotten corpse, and pomegranates essence.

Somehow, Annabeth finds, she doesn't hate it that bad.

Nico despises it, but he can't let go of one of the very few soft things he's ever known.

And that's fine, because Annabeth keeps laying with her arms open without asking any questions, and Nico keeps falling asleep, while holding onto her waist, without offering any explanations.

They both know it will never be the same, not ever what they are actually craving, and searching for, because this whole situation has only made them hunt for Percy even harder.

But they can still keep each other company, until they manage to find Percy, somehow, that is.

Annabeth is surprised to find that now, instead of dying, the grass underneath Nico grows mushrooms.

Nico is too.

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[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

I WANNA BE HAUNTED / I WANNA BE LOVED

Richard Siken Wishbone // とつくにの少女 The Girl From the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún wr. Nagabe // Marina Tsvetaeva // Shirley Jackson The Haunting of Hill House // Fatima Aamer Bilal being unwanted is a language // Angela Carter The Company of Wolves // pinterest // Fariha Róisín How to Cure a Ghost // Morrissey in an interview with David Thomas // pinterest // Hanya Yanagihara A Little Life

[chaotic-mystery]

Call It What You Want

pairing: Joel Miller Jackson era x f!reader

summary: Who knew a storm would push you and Joel exactly where you wanted to be but never thought you’d end up?

content warnings: shocker shocker, Mads wrote fluff for once! There’s a slight mention of arson and your house burning down but ya know, the rest of it is fluff. Nicknames, implied age gap but it’s not specified, storms. NO USE OF Y/N.

authors note: this is almost two months late for the lovely @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge! I couldn’t find my moodboard unfortunately (it was beautiful) so I had to improvise. I got Joel + cheek kiss. It’s short and sweet 🖤 Jana ilysm. || word count: 1.1k || thank u always to @pedgito for beta reading & @wannab-urs for hyping me up to post despite how far I got derailed from life. Ily ily ily.

Two years. It’s been two years living with Joel Miller in Jackson. It wasn’t what you expected, given the week you moved into the smaller house just up the hill, someone decided to burn it down to get you to leave. It wasn’t really the warm welcome like you were promised. Joel was tasked with housing you until they could rebuild or find you somewhere else to shack up. Given he was Tommy’s brother and Tommy was with Maria, no one dared to even mess with anyone close to the Millers.

It took Joel a mere three months to decide he liked keeping you around, it wasn’t so quiet in the house anymore, and he had someone to share his dinner with because he could never figure out after all these years how to cook for one person. Either way, you both liked each other’s company and you didn’t want to live anywhere else. However, there was a mutual agreement between you two of house rules.

Keep up after yourself, do your work and do as you’re told, and no overnight guests.

Even if you didn’t talk about it, the third rule just kind of happened. It was never your house to get comfortable in and over the years you slowly started to feel more relaxed, but it was never going to be yours.

A nasty storm was rolling in during the middle of the night and knowing storms freak you out, especially living in a house surrounded by trees as tall as buildings, you laid in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating going into Joel’s room to wake him up. You just wanted to be held again, despite you starting to catch feelings for him. You knew the first night you climbed in his bed for relief of knowing you weren’t alone in the house, this was going to fuck you up. You just wanted to feel someone else there with you, anyone. It just so happened to be Joel who was half asleep but more than willing to let you sleep in his bed as long as you didn’t try anything with him.

With each sunrise, you’d wake up in his arms and his head nuzzled into your neck from behind. Had Joel known what was happening or how you’d wake up tangled in each other, he’d make a big deal about it and not let you come in during the middle of the night anymore. Before he’d open his eyes you’d crawl out of his room to let him think you left hours ago.

A ginormous crack of lightning lights up your bedroom and follows with booms of thunder loud enough to rattle the windows and causes you to jolt up in your bed.

You grab your blanket and run into Joel’s room, skipping the knocking that normally wakes him up. He jumps awake, fear coursing his veins as he looks around the dark room and seeing you standing there from the small flashes of lightning.

“What’s the matter?!” He asks and swings his legs over the side of the bed closest to you.

“There’s a storm and-”

“C’mon, get in here.” He lays back down and lifts the covers up, not aware you had your blanket.

Still, you jump in under them and lay your blanket over the top. He knew you were scared of storms, it was all he needed to know as to why you busted in the way you did. With no second thought, Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you against his chest to console you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” He murmurs tiredly as he rubs your back gently to soothe you.

His warm palms smooth over your t-shirt covering your shoulder, almost sucking all the anxiety right out of your body.

“I’ll forgive you for barging in here like that, even if you did scare the shit outta me.” His chin lays right on top of your head, tucking you in closer than you’ve ever been to him. Did he always smell this good and you’re just now realizing?

“I’m sorry, yeah I probably should’ve knocked. I’m sorry.” You try to cover your face in embarrassment but he catches your movements and tugs your arm down, tightening his grip on you as he rocks back and forth trying to get you to laugh.

“No no no, cut it out. I’m just messin with you. C’mon, get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

You couldn’t stop staring at the skin on his neck and thinking about how badly you wanted to kiss him. Cuddling with him never went further than what it was because if it did, you’d have to talk about what you two were and that would completely ruin everything.

“But I’m not tired now.”

“Too bad, if you just stop yappin’ you’ll get tired.”

“But-“

His hand comes up gently to your face and squeezes your cheeks together to keep you from finishing your thought. Your adrenaline was pumping as you could feel his face get closer to yours and his breath tickling your skin. A ghost of a kiss was pressed to your cheek, followed by him saying goodnight once more.

Your entire body was on vibrate, hands cemented to your torso where they’ve been since you climbed into his bed. Joel’s hand never left your face as he started to drift off to sleep but his grip loosened.

“Joel.” you whisper

No answer. You shuffle under him and he stirs softly.

“Joel.”

“What's the matter, kid?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Bracing yourself for him to kick you out for talking too much, you hold out for an answer and to your surprise, he answers.

“Because I wanted to.” He grumbles and blinks open his eyes, the thunder still rumbling outside.

Biting your lip trying to decide if you should keep going, to give into your temptations and tell him what you’re thinking about.

“What if I want you to kiss me…like…for real? Would you?” You shuffle around as he sits up enough to prop his arm up and hold his head steady in your direction.

“Why would you want that?”

You didn’t know how to answer. Maybe it was the mixed signals you were getting, the looks you’d catch from Joel every time he saw you talking to a guy, or maybe you just really wanted him to kiss you. It had been forever for you too, since someone glittered your skin with delicate kisses and touches from angels and every day that passed, it grew stronger and twined itself with whatever this was with Joel.

“If you’re going to kiss me, I’d rather have a proper one.” You whisper and the flash of lightning lights Joel’s face, exposing the stupid smirk on his face.

What happened that night was going to stay between you two, even if it meant complicating everything.

Thank u for reading! 🖤

[hms-tardimpala]

I think a side effect of de-aging Thorin in the movies and still presenting Fíli and Kíli as his definitive heirs is making him gay-coded. In the book, he's the oldest in the Company and it's too late for him to have children, but in the Jackson movies, he's perfectly young enough to get married and have an heir after he reclaims Erebor (as kings do), but nobody expects him to and everybody considers Fíli as the next king without a doubt for...reasons?

They made him look like the gay uncle is all I'm saying.

[jgracie]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS! — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF ERIS

masterlist | rules

❝ Could you write headcanons for Percy Jackson x Daughter of Eris reader? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of eris

pairing percy jackson x eris!reader

warnings percy gets hurt + in the infirmary for a bit

on the radio . . . crazy girls (toopoor)

an i can't remember if the stolls getting supplies thing is canon or something i read in a fanfic once and made canon in my head but if its the latter and ur the one who came up with it lmk so i can credit you!

Honestly, Percy was scared of you at first. He couldn’t help it, considering his first meeting with your mom was when she was competing with her siblings for darkest child. That did not leave a very good first impression

The rumours didn’t help either. All the other campers avoided you like the plague, not wanting to be anywhere near the child of discord out of fear

All except two: Connor and Travis Stoll, sons of Hermes. Your mom worked for their dad’s company, the Hermes Express, and while others cowered in fear at the chaos surrounding you, they admired it

After you helped them with their prank on the Aphrodite cabin, inspired by your mother’s golden apple, they decided to take you under their wing and hire you

You see, Connor and Travis were in charge of buying supplies from the outside world and bringing them into camp, since they’re two of the few demigods in camp who could drive. As the number of demigods increased, they realised they needed a third person to help them out, and who better than Eris’ daughter? 

Usually, you’d go in pairs for safety reasons. However, both Connor and Travis had gotten sick one day, leaving you alone

“What’re you guys doing? I’ve been waiting for you at Thalia’s tree for ages,” you said, huffing as you sat on the edge of one of the beds in the Hermes cabin, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you looked around the cabin you called home for years until they built one for your mother.

Travis coughed, and that’s when you really took a good look at them. Both their noses were bright red and their eyes were watery, “sorry Y/N, we can’t go with you today,” he said before blowing his nose.

“Oh, okay, we can go some other day then, when you two are feeling better,” you smiled. As you were about to walk out, you heard Connor mumble a faint, “nooo,” stopping you in your tracks.

Turning around, you watched as he laboriously got out of bed and took slow strides towards you. Putting your hands in his, he said, “you have to go. You have to continue our legacy. Besides, Will says the medicine we need ran out. You need to save us before it's too late!”

You blinked, unsure if he was joking or not. To you, he just seemed to have the common cold, “you’re not dying, Connor,” you began, “but really, I can’t go alone, I’ve never done this on my own before!”

Suddenly, you heard the door of the cabin open, and in walked Percy Jackson. He was good friends with the Stolls, having spent a couple nights in the Hermes cabin himself, and wanted to check on them after hearing they were sick

“Perfect! Percy can go with you!” Connor said, and that was that.

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. There you were, daughter of strife herself, driving to a nearby general store with the great Percy Jackson in the passenger seat

You were already a pretty reckless driver to begin with, always going as fast as the speed limit would allow, but with him at your side, you were worse. The more nervous you got, the more rash you became. 

You couldn’t help it though, having always thought Percy was a little cute, keeping your distance simply because you knew you’d never get a chance with him. Unlike all the other people part of the Percy fanclub, you were realistic. Why would he go for you when he could easily have some charming daughter of Aphrodite?

Eventually, you got to the store, and the two of you got out of the car (much to Percy’s delight, he was fighting the urge to vomit but didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of a pretty girl)

As soon as you entered, you felt a feeling of dread wash over you. Percy turned to look at you, and you immediately knew it wasn’t just you. He was feeling it too

You pointed to the right, silently telling him that’s where you were going to patrol, and he headed for the left. The place was eerily empty and quiet, but everything seemed fine on your end. You were about to yell out Percy’s name, when you heard him scream in pain

You ran to where he was, ripping your bracelet off and preparing for combat. The bracelet, a gift from your mother, turned into a beautiful stygian iron spear

In front of you was a Chimera. As soon as it laid its eyes on you, it forgot all about Percy, deciding you were much worthier prey. That’s what you wanted

Although the Chimera’s poison was infecting Percy’s body, he couldn’t help but admire the way you effortlessly moved with your spear, giving the Chimera a run for its money. As the battle got more heated, you seemed to get stronger, the chaos of it all fueling you.

Swiftly, you killed the Chimera, not bothering to watch it disintegrate as you were too worried about Percy

The materials you went out to get were long forgotten and you drove as quickly as you possibly could, desperate to get back to camp before it was too late for him. You’d given Percy some of the ambrosia you kept in the car for emergencies, but he needed proper treatment

You burst into the infirmary and watched as everyone stopped what they were doing. Setting Percy down on a nearby cot, you quickly explained the situation to Will and left, not wanting to be around anymore

It didn’t take much for you to go back though, all you could think about was Percy. You had to check on him. Every day, when campers called it a night and headed for their cabins, you hid yourself in the shadows and made your way to the infirmary

This happened for three nights until Percy woke up on the fourth

“Hey,” you heard a faint voice say. Immediately, you yanked your hand away from Percy’s, your face heating up. He smiled at you, his sea-green eyes twinkling in the dark

“Thanks for saving me back there, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” he continued, “you looked really cool with that spear. I could never use Riptide like that,"

Much to your own surprise, you replied, “I could help you, if you want. Swords and spears aren’t too different.” 

Once Percy was deemed healthy, you began your training. At first, you’d just spar, the only words spoken between you being tips you’d give him, but soon enough, you started talking about other things

Percy realised people were wrong about you. Sure, your mother really scared him, but you weren’t her. You didn’t like chaos that caused others pain, you just liked to have a little fun from time-to-time, playing pranks and teasing others

He also realised he liked you. Really liked you. In the past, he would’ve taken his time with asking you out, replaying all the possible scenarios that could happen in his head, but after literally going through Tartarus and back, Percy couldn’t leave things unsaid anymore. So, he asked you out immediately

And that’s the story of how you two began dating

Percy is your #1 defender. He dismantles all the stereotypes people have spread about you and is willing to fight anyone who speaks a single word against you

He introduces you to his friends, and although they’re hesitant at first, they begin warming up to you and soon enough they become your friends too. Next thing you know, the rest of camp becomes accustomed to you as well

Percy couldn’t be happier! You’re the apple of his eye and he loved seeing you light up as you helped around the infirmary (Will had asked you to after realising as daughter of chaos, you could take it away, giving campers some peace of mind as they were being healed)

You two are SUCH a fun couple. You remind Percy of how much fun he used to have as a troublemaker before war stripped him of all enjoyment, so he starts helping you with the pranks you pull on people

He also continues to get supplies with you. The Stolls barely leave camp anymore because as soon as one of them offers to go with you, he’s silenced by the sound of Percy revving up the car

You also make out a lot and everywhere. Being Eris’ daughter, you can’t help but love the thrill of potentially getting caught, and Percy doesn’t mind because he gets to kiss you so it's a win-win situation

Being your boyfriend didn't exclude Percy from your tricks. You would play pranks on him too, though to a lesser degree than what you’d do to others

Your favourites are the subtle ones. Stuff like replacing his camp t-shirt with one a size too small and waiting for him to notice 

“Babe,” Percy said, entering your cabin. Putting your bookmark - a polaroid picture of you and him - in your book, you set it aside and couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Percy.

His hair, once black with a grey streak, was now bright blue. The streak stayed, but you didn’t mind, your job was done. “Do you like it?” You asked, grinning

Percy crossed his arms, holding back a chuckle as he stared at your smiling face. Walking over to your dresser, you opened a drawer and pulled out a small bottle which you threw at him

“This should get rid of it,” you told him. You’d never pull something like that without being sure it was reversible, you knew how it could affect a person’s self-esteem. Percy smiled at your thoughtfulness. He couldn’t believe you were his.

[balletfilmss]

COULD YOU MAKE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUS?

✸ pairing: rockstar!percy jackson x ballerina! reader

✸ synopsis: you and percy jackson are absolutely, totally, by no means dating … as far as the public knows

✸ warnings: none!

✸ notes: THIS WAS THE CUTEST IDEA EVER, I LOVE IT SM!!! i’m down to do more parts if anyone wants… 👀 requested! also, pls understand the reference in the title 🙏

exhausting was the only word for it, your life. and as of lately, there was so much going on that you could barely see straight.

your ballet company had always had long hours, but now that the performance that you were not only in, but the star of, was quickly approaching, it was chaos in sparkles and pointe shoes.

wake up, rehearse, workout, rehearse, meetings, rehearse, costume fittings, rehearse, sleep, repeat.

you had just finished up with your final rehearsal for the night when your manager called you into an impromptu meeting and shoved a screen in your face.

eyes blurry from lack of sleep, it had taken a moment for you to see the image clearly, but when you did, your heart dropped all the way down to your sore feet.

a screenshot from a news article in some random pop culture tabloid with your name plastered across the caption along with another you knew: percy jackson.

international rockstar and lead singer of the sensational boy band, greek symphony, percy jackson was all the talk in gossip magazines and blogs, a modern-day heartthrobs for girls to go crazy over.

he was a troublemaker at best, holding the worst record yet best reputation among his band mates. he was dangerous, mischievous, and so undeniably hot. and therefore, so totally off limits.

in the world of shoebiz, the two of you fell on opposite sides of the spectrum. you were a peaceful black swan, whereas he was the thunderous wave that disturbed your peaceful gliding across the water’s surface, sending your world into a frenzy by a mere touch.

but as off limits and unlikely of an idea as he was, he also happened to be confined to the same home city as you in new york. could they really blame you if you said things just … happened?

“what is this?” you asked, looking dead at a photo that you knew was definitely you.

apparently, you and your clandestine lover hadn’t been as careful as you usually were and a photo had been captured by a rouge paparazzi.

luckily, it was dark and showed none of your face and about half of his side profile, and therefore, easy to play off as a mistake.

“according to the article, it’s you scurrying about with the rockstar percy jackson,” your manager told you, a sour look on her face.

“percy jackson? are you kidding me?” you gasped, lips twisted in a disgusted frown. “i’ve never even met that guy, much less been scurrying around the city with him!”

two lies in one sentence, you were on a roll.

“well, according to just about every celebrity news outlet right now, you’re his latest victim,” said the head of your pr team, piper. “and this picture is their proof.”

“that’s not me!” you argued. it was you.

you could pinpoint exactly when and where that photo was taken, actually. it had been last week, when you and percy had to sneak out the back of his apartment to avoid his bandmate, leo valdez, seeing you all piled up in percy’s arms while watching pride and prejudice.

apparently, paparazzis liked lurking around the backend of apartment complexes.

“yn.” said piper, giving you a pointed look. “are you sure?”

“i think i know what i look like, pipes,” you scoffed. “he may be running around with some girl, but it’s not me. please, make sure everybody knows that.”

at your words, your team got started on damage control, while you snatched up your things and headed home to your apartment, right where the very boy you’d just convinced everyone that you had never met was waiting for you.

you dropped your dance bag to the floor the second the door to your home closed, exhaling a deep breath as the anxieties and physical abuse of the day hit you all at once.

as you leaned against the closed door and blew a tuft of hair from your eyes, the familiar face of your boyfriend rounded the corner.

“there she is!” he grinned, wielding a spatula as he threw his arms out dramatically. “dinner’s almost ready. how’s my favorite girl?”

“exhausted,” you sighed with a smile. “sorry for being so late, something came up.”

“ah, don’t worry about it,” he told you. “i put the spare key back, by the way.”

you already knew that, of course. he put it back where it belonged every time he used it, but never failed to let you know.

six months you’d been doing this— sneaking around behind the backs of your friends and the media, falling further in love with someone you weren’t even supposed to be acquainted with inside the private four walls of each of your apartments and secret meeting spots.

you followed him into your little quaint kitchen, where he went to flipping a final pancake on the stovetop.

“looks good, honey,” you smiled tiredly. “but—“

“oh no, no buts,” he whined.

“but,” you insisted. “we have an issue. someone snagged a picture of us last week and today it was published. my team’s already working on getting it down, but it’s done some damage.”

you pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the article as he turned the heat off on the stove. he took a moment to squint and it and evaluate before saying,

“okay, that’s not as bad as i expected. jase called about an hour ago and told me all about it, but he said he denied that it was me to mr. d.”

thank the heavens above for jason grace (the bassist in percy’s band and member who had a better head on his shoulders than the other three of them combined).

“i dunno perce, it’s a pretty good shot of you,” you told him.

“i think all shots of me are pretty good ones, if i do say so myself.” he smirked, closing the already small gap between the two of you as he leaned a hand against the counter on either side of you, trapping you in.

“i bet you do, rockstar,” you replied, looking up at him through tired lids and half-smudged mascara. “I remember it being a pretty good view, personally. except for leo screaming his head off inside.”

percy chuckled, his breath fanning across your cheek. “the price we pay for privacy.”

“apparently not private enough,” you sighed, the headline of the article seared into your mind. gosh, you could already see yourself getting dragged on twitter. “oh, what’re we gonna do if people do find us out?”

percy could see the creases between your brows and the doubt swimming through your irises, a light, almost unnoticeable path of lilac underneath your eyes. you were worried and tired, and he couldn’t be having any of that.

“i don’t think it’d be so bad,” he shrugged, his hands closing in to rest on your hips. “i mean, i know both our bosses would be out for blood, but it’d be worth it for people to know i have you.”

“you want people to know you have me?” you asked, a small, trace of a smile creeping up on the corners of your lips.

“do i want people to know i have a beautiful, smart, sweetheart ballerina for a girlfriend? hell yeah, i do.” he answered. “eventually, y’know.”

your smile appeared now, reaching up to your eyes and hiding away the tiredness in them. percy loved that smile.

“how soon do you think eventually is?” you asked, draping your arms over his shoulders as his face leaned closer to yours.

“as soon as you want it to be, pretty girl,” he answered. he then leaned all the way in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that melted away all the tension in your muscles as he pulled you in close.

when he leaned away, you chased his lips and landed another peck to the corner of his mouth and then another to his nose, just for good measure.

“now,” he smiled. “let’s forget about the stupid public for a little while and eat, yeah?”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

keep it on the low

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism

word count: 3k

a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.

Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?

Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.

You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.

And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.

You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.

Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.

The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.

“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”

He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.

You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.

You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”

He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”

You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.

Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.

“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

He doesn’t.

Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.

“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.

"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.

“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.

"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.

“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.

"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”

His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.

“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.

“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.

“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”

And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.

Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.

More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.

He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.

His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.

"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.

He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.

"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.

And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.

"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."

You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.

"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.

But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.

You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.

His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.

It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—

"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.

But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.

"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.

It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.

"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.

Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.

"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.

"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.

Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.

"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."

And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.

The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.

"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.

"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.

No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.

"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"

You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.

"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."

At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.

It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.

Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.

This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.

He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.

Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.

Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.

He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.

And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.

He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.

"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."

You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.

"I'm yours."

thanks for reading! 💕

[bradleybeachbabe]

Ok so there is a serious shortage of Tim Bradford stuff on tumblr and the gasp i gusped when i saw you were taking requests was very big.

So how about him being his usual hard and grumpy self and his pregnant wife coming to the station angry about something and him turning into a big softie. Like she’s almost scolding him about something and the others staring like ‚who is this man?‘. Obviously Angela knows what’s up but the rookie are like 🫨

Thanks so much!!💗

here you go anon <3 hope i did you justice on this! also i really enjoyed writing this!

warnings: pregnancy, not beta read

a/n: i haven’t posted in blurbs in forever, so please bare with me on this!

you have been angry at the slightest things lately, whether it being how hot it is outside, not being able to put on your shoes, not having your favorite ice cream in your freezer, etc. the list could go on, and yet it could be to the fact that you’re seven months and half pregnant, because ever since you entered your third trimester the slightest things have been making you angry. and now you’re even angrier than you have been throughout your third trimester, and it’s all because the air conditioning has decided to stop working in your house, so with that being said you have decided to head down to the station to tell tim, your husband, all about it.

when you arrived at the station, you were lucky enough that you didn’t have to wait in the front lobby of the station for tim to come out and talk to you. the officer who was working at the front desk knew who you were, so you were able to just go to the back where all of the officers’ desks are, to find tim.

when you entered the back, you were lucky enough to find tim sitting at his desk, talking to angela about whatever. when you were walking over to where his desk was, angela spotted you.

“looks like you got some company,” angela nodded her head toward your direction.

tim turned his head and saw you waddling towards him.

“i’m gonna give you two some privacy,” angela said as she left tim’s desk and walked over to where john, lucy, and jackson were standing.

“who’s that?” jackson quipped when angela approached.

“tim’s wife, y/n,” angela answered.

“tim has a wife?” lucy, john, and jackson all asked at the time.

“yeah, they have been married for about three years now. and of course, they are now expecting their first baby in a few months.”

“wow, i did not know that,” lucy said.

“yeah, tim tends to keep his work and personal life separate,” angela said.

“hmm…now i’m wondering why she showed up to talk to tim,” lucy said.

“honestly, whatever it is, it’s gonna look good on his end,” angela smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“what are you doing here?” tim asked with a confused tone when you approached his desk. “is everything okay? is the baby okay?” he added.

“no, everything is not okay. the bright side is, that the baby is okay.”

“well, what’s wrong then?” tim asked.

“what’s wrong is that the air conditioning has stopped working at the house, and now i’m super hot, sweaty, i'm upset, and especially angry because of that,” you explained.

tim just looked at you with soft eyes. he felt bad for you. he hated seeing you angry and upset. he knew how irritated you could get whenever you’re hot.

“i can try and fix it when i get home later today,” tim stated.

“what time will you be home?” you questioned him.

“maybe around five, it all just depends if i can get all this paperwork done before that time.”

“oh,” you frowned.

tim sighed, “you want me to leave work right now, so then i can fix the air conditioning? don’t you?”

“please.”

you already knew what tim’s answer was gonna be. he wasn’t gonna, ‘no’ or anything like that. plus, if he did, most likely he would end up sleeping on the couch for the night.

“okay, i’ll leave right now,” tim said. “let me go inform sergeant grey that i’m gonna leave early.”

tim got up from his seat at his desk to head to sergeant grey office. and when he did get up, he quickly kissed your temple, and quickly laid one of his hands on your bump, before he walked off.

while you were waiting for tim to get back from sergeant grey’s office, you saw out of the corner of your eye, angela and by the looks of it, three rookies standing with her. the three rookies had shocking looks on their faces while angela couldn’t help herself from smirking. you already knew why angela had that smirk on her face. she already knew that tim has a huge soft side, and that soft side is only reserved for you, and your baby who is gonna be born in a few months. on the other hand, the rookies didn’t know tim’s soft side at all, so of course all of them had shocking looks on their faces.

“sergeant grey is okay with me going home early today,” tim said as he approached you.

“did he ask why you’re going home early today?”

“yes,” tim nodded his head.

“did he think your reason for leaving early was kinda odd and crazy,” you asked.

“yeah,” tim nodded. “but luckily he isn’t giving me a hard time about this,” he added.

“well, that’s good then.”

tim turned off his computer and pushed his desk car in, and you two walked out hand in hand with each other.

“told ya,” angela said as she walked off. while lucy, john, and jackson were still standing there with shocking looks on their faces, trying to gather the pieces together that tim has a soft side.

blurb night!

[heartpascal]

check under the doormat

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?

▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)

▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.

But you hated it.

You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.

With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.

In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.

Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.

You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.

“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.

“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.

“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.

“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.

He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.

You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.

Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.

“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.

“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”

“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.

“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”

“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”

Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”

“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.

It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.

You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.

For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.

Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.

You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.

As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.

“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.

“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.

“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.

“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”

“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”

You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”

Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.

“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”

“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.

“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”

“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”

“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.

“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”

“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”

You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.

“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.

“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.

“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.

“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”

You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.

He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.

“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t. You know why?”

“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.

“Because we’re friends.”

You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.

“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.

“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”

You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”

“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”

Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”

“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”

“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”

“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.

“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.

“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”

Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.

“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.

“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”

“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”

“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.

“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.

“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.

With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.

The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.

A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.

“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.

“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.

“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.

You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.

You didn’t mind it, really.

The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.

Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.

The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.

With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.

“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.

“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.

“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”

He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.

You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.

The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.

“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.

You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.

It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.

Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.

Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.

When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.

“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.

Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.

It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.

The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.

“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.

You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”

He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.

Finally, Tommy realised that, too.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.

His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.

“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.

He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.

“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.

“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.

Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.

He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.

Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.

Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.

“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”

“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.

Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.

“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.

“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.

“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.

“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”

It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”

You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.

When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.

“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”

You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.

As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”

Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”

“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.

“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.

Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.

This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.

“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.

“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.

“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.

“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.

You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.

“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”

Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.

“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.

The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.

“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”

Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”

You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.

“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”

Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.

You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.

The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.

Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.

You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.

And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.

With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.

“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”

“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”

Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.

The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.

You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.

A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.

With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.

“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.

Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.

A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.

You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”

When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.

Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.

It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.

Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.

The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.

“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.

You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.

“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.

You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.

From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.

Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.

Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.

“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.

He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.

You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”

“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”

“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.

“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”

He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.

Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.

You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.

“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”

You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.

With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”

His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.

“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”

Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.

“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”

“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”

Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.

“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.

He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.

You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.

When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.

He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.

PART FIVE

▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch

[alexwritingspot]

hii!! I was wondering if you could write percy jackson x reader with prompt 3 or 7? I know that you wrote an enemies to lovers recently but those are the vibes that these two prompts give me. maybe it can be something else! feel free to do whatever you're comfortable with!! love you, thank u!!

Hidden feelings…

An unexpected convocation from the gods leads to a messy confession behind the closed doors of a elevator…

Prompts 3 and 7: “Wait- are you jealous?” “You wanna kiss me so bad~”

pairing: Percy Jackson x reader

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

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A/n: Hi darling! I deeply apologise for making you wait so long! 😓 In the start I had promised myself I would have written your story pretty early, but then I didn’t have a scenario in mind! So I’m really sorry if you waited like- two months, before getting your request done, hope you won’t unsubscribe because of this 🧡😭 anyway, enjoy your reading!

P.S. I tried making this a bit longer as an apology

————————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe it. You were walking to the Empire State building with Percy Jackson, the famous son of Poseidon, the hero of the Olympus and also your enemy. You didn’t really hate each other, you simply couldn’t stand him because he always took the spotlight on himself, leaving the others with no time to shine. Even if he claimed that he didn’t want all the attention for himself and that he even tried to hide from the spotlight you didn’t quiete believe him. But here you were, walking by his side after a flash convocation from the Olympus, what did they possibly want?

You had tried to figure that out since Chiron had called you over at the big house, but you didn’t give yourself a proper answer. You kept walking and you tried to ignore the glances that sometimes Percy sent your way. “Today the sky is really cloudy” he said in a attempt to try and make conversation “I bet the king himself didn’t wake up with the right foot” he joked, trying to ease at least a bit the palpable tension between the two of you. “I bet that he’s going to fulminate you one day if you keep talking about him like that” you said with a sharp glare threw in his direction.

After walking for about ten minutes more you both arrived at the entrance of the enormous building. “Here we are” you said, and before Percy could add anything else you were already inside the skyscraper.

You entered the building and went straight to the receptionist “600th floor” You simply said, giving the poor employer a death glare. He looked back emotionless “we don’t have a 600th floor” he was doing his job, you didn’t really blame me for it. “Look, you’re talking to a child of g/p and a son of Poseidon so you better let us in-“ before you could finish Percy stepped in, gently pushing you aside.

“Sorry for my friend here, but you see, they are having a bad day and a convocation from the gods really was the cherry on the top, but we need to get on Olympus as soon as possible, you wouldn’t want Poseidon or g/p mad at you because you didn’t let their children up, would you?” He pulled out a confident smile and you rolled your eyes.

The man looked between the two of you before stamping something on a paper sheet. “And what might your names be?” He asked, and you were starting to lose it “Listen here you little-“ but before you could add anything else Percy pulled you back again “Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N, now may we enter the elevator… please?” He looked at the employer expectantly.

He stamped something else before getting up and starting walking “this way” Percy let out a sigh of relief. You and the son of Poseidon followed him until you were arrived “Have a nice trip to Olympus” he said flatly, before walking back to his desk.

The two of you entered the elevator and when the door closed leaned over the mechanical box’s “wall” to catch your breath.

”I’m not your friend” You suddenly blurted out “I didn’t come here to keep you company or anything, I came here cause I was summoned by Zeus himself, so don’t make up strange ideas in that head of yours.” You warned and crossed your arms.

He looked at you slightly hurt “Has a manticore stung you or something? You’re more bitter than usual.” You shot him a death glare but said anything, his eyes had caught your interest, they were beautiful… For Hades, what were you thinking?!

You quickly looked away and waited as it played in the background an old song named “You make my dreams (come true)” by some old singer you couldn’t remember the name of. You wondered who had chosen the elevator playlist, it had probably been Apollo or one of the muses.

You glanced around and found Percy staring over at you, he had a strange look on his face, and you couldn’t quite place the emotions he was feeling. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, not because you were actually worried about your appearance, more to break the strange atmosphere that was building up.

He quickly shook his head “no no, I was just looking at you… you’d be even prettier if you smiled more sometimes” he stated, and you looked at him, your mouth slightly agape. You tried to hide the forming blush of your cheeks, but you failed miserably. At that he let out a chuckle.

That only made you blush more, the tips of your ears red from embarrassment. “I…” you tried to come back at him with something, but you just couldn’t, he was too handsome in that moment. “Just shut it, would you sushi prince?” It was meant to be a sort of mocking insult, but it came out cuter than you expected.

You saw Percy take a step closer “Sushi prince?” He ask, trying to be serious, but barely managing to hold in a laugh. “Yeah, cause you’re a son of Poseidon, and fish call you prince, and you use fish to make sushi-“ I looked up at him “you know what? Drop it, it wasn’t that great of an insult” You simply concluded.

“No why? No one had ever called me that, it’s… creative, let’s say” he tried. You gave him a look that said ‘really?’ And them the two of you bursted out laughing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

You unintentionally took a step closer to the boy, there had always been something that had attracted you to him in the years, but you denied it behind the excuse that you didn’t like him, but oh boy if you did, liked him. But then something he said pulled you out of your thoughts. The elevator had stopped. Why? You asked yourself. Of course it would have been you.

He looked at you “there’s no need to worry, Annabeth explained me once how these things work, we just have to call in the emergency” he stated calmly as he pressed the yellow button. “Annabeth, huh?”you asked him. You couldn’t quite place what was the strange feeling that you felt in the pitch of your stomach when he named her, but you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, Annabeth” he replied and you just stared at him “you and her are pretty close, aren’t you?” You ask, annoyed. Percy just looked at you, slightly confused. “Well, yeah, but we’re only friends.” He stated, and you could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. Then why didn’t you believe him? “Oh yeah, just friends, got it” you retorted back, and you cursed yourself for not having held your tongue.

He seemed surprised but then… a sly smirk formed on his lips. “Wait- are you jealous?” He smiled like a little kid on Christmas day. You looked away “No…” but your redness was hard to hide now. “You’re jealous! Oh gods, you’re all red” he laughed, and maybe, but just maybe, his voice wasn’t as annoying as you remembered.

“What if I am?” You then asked him, still leaning on the wall of the elevator. He smiled even more cheekily “No nothing, I just think it’s cute” he said, and leaned closer. You didn’t push him away, yet you didn’t lean in.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked “I don’t hate you” you paused “I just think you are incredibly self-centred sometimes” you admitted. “Oh, thank you” he replied sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes “Just so you know, I don’t find you self-centred, annoying or anything like that, you’re just impulsive” he stated, and he was standing so close…

You glanced at his lips, because how could you not? You then forced your glance back on his. His usual smirk returned “You wanna kiss me so bad~” he teased and then leaned over the wall, pinning you to the elevator wall, but you weren’t intimidated. “So, what if I do, Jackson?” You asked in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Oh nothing” he answered and leaned closer, your lips just a few inches away “maybe I want too” and then his lips crashed onto yours, and nothing else mattered, it was only the two of you, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else.

[bluebeary-jay]

Hold me close and hold me fast

Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!

Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️

Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.

But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.

“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”

He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.

He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.

“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”

Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.

“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”

“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.

“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”

“Get lost, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”

“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”

That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.

“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”

“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”

“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”

“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”

He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.

Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.

Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.

No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…

He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.

He did. In theory.

So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.

But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.

Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.

“You’re quiet.”

Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.

“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”

“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Listen here, you little tease…”

A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.

But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.

An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.

Not that he minded.

There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.

Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.

“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”

There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.

You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”

“Joel…”

The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”

“Joel.”

No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.

“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”

Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.

“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”

“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”

“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”

“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”

“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”

“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”

He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.

But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.

“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”

“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”

Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”

“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”

Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.

It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.

“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”

“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.

You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.

“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.

“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”

You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.

So, so loving.

Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.

There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.

[lilrainbowcloud]

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Comfy cozy fluff

Word count: 567 [masterlist]

a/n: i live for soft percy fics🩵

[13:23]

Sitting during lunch period together, both leaning on the trunk of an old rain tree at the campus park, you both enjoyed the company of each other in silence. Well, not in complete silence, there was the buzzing of passing conversations of the other students and the sound of the rustling leaves from the gentle breeze of wind.

But you and Percy were in your quiet bubble together. You felt like it was your own world. Being with him, sharing earbuds as your favourite playlist played on shuffle, it felt as if the bubble was a vacuumed space, shutting out the outside world. For like, an hour.

Shoulder to shoulder, you sat sketching on your little sketch book. Determined to commit to finishing the entire book for the semester and not abandoning it like.... the last 4 times. Hey, it wasn't your fault that artist block came knocking on your dorm room's door after a couple of days. Keeping up with the motivation to do something can be challenging okay!

As your pen scratched the paper with black ink, you were sketching a portrait of a woman you saw from your trip to the flower market yesterday. Mind in deep focus as you tried to recall the angle of her face, the deep hooded brown eyes, and the dark curl of her hair. She was very pretty enough to be your subject of art.

Being deep in your creative headspace, the person who was leaning himself onto your shoulder took hold of your non dominant hand which didn't catch your attention at first, but the cold and blunt tip of a pen gliding on the skin of the back of your hand sure did.

Tilting your head down to your intertwined hands, you smiled at the sight of Percy drawing an outline of a star on your hand, matching his blacked out one.

Glancing at his face the best you can, given your position, you could see the little smile on his face as he carefully traced the star's outline, darkening it.

You thought he was done, but under the star, Percy being Percy, wrote a cliche line of "You're the star of my life." Which got an amused scoff out of you. And a proud smile on his face as he let go of your hand only to take it in his other one to hold them up beside his as he examined his 'masterpiece'.

"You're such a dork, you know that?"

"At least I'm your dork," Taking your hand in his again, he brought your knuckles to his lips, "M'lady."

Groaning, you rolled your eyes as you pushed him, making him fall to the side. His melodious laugh filled your bubble.

"Oh my god Percy, I swear on your dad I will-"

"What? You will what, hm?" Giving you a raised eyebrow in question. Sometimes, your mind can't think of a fast retort to him, you stutter, thinking of something.

"I'm telling him that his son cheated on a carnival water gun's game to win a stuffed bear." With a proud face, you crossed your arms over your chest. Feeling defeated already from your poor attempt at a clapback.

You hoped he didn't notice the change of subject matter?

"Okay, I won a stuffed bear for you!" Okay, he didn't notice, "If you don't want him, I'll kidnap him back from you."

"No! He's mine!"

[raspberrybesitos]

mistletoe kisses | joel miller x f!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: M - 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: You decorate the Christmas tree with some help from Joel and Ellie.

Warnings: established relationship, post-outbreak, Jackson era, canon divergent bc nothing bad ever happens to them ever 😁, sickening fluff, pet names (honey, darlin’, baby, babydoll, etc), allusions to smut, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: surprise!!! i know i said this would be up on the 22nd, but i’ve got something else that will be up on saturday 🤭 and i just couldn’t stop thinking about giving this man a happy ending, including healing and starting new traditions with his family 😔 i wish joel was real 💔 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @/saradika

Grumbling, he treks behind you, snow crunching beneath his work boots as he cautiously lugs the saw in his hands.

You’re rambling about finding the perfect tree in front of him, Ellie asking a million questions about the tradition.

He hadn’t expected, intended, to find a partner in Jackson. That is until he saw you, lugging a heavy crate of harvested crops across the town, your wagon having been broken. Tommy had told him about you, how you were single.

“She’s sweet as pie, brother. She might be good for you. Real pretty too.” Joel recalls the conversation he had with Tommy before he stormed off to the barn.

His Southern hospitality lay dormant until he saw you struggling. The urge to help creeped up on him. His typical quite observant demeanor tossed out the window as he approached you.

“Need some help?” He asks.

You wipe your brow, huffing before laying your eyes on the broad, handsomely rugged man in front of you - it’s Tommy’s brother. His name escaping you briefly.

You beam. “Oh. Sure. Thank you…” you trail off, slightly off guard by his kind gesture. His large gloved hand extends out towards you.

“Joel,” he finishes your sentence. “Thank you, Joel,” your hand shaking his, giving him your name. It rolls off his tongue with a certain sweetness, sending a flurry of butterflies to swirl in your belly. You knew of him, but knew he was also not a man of many words. You had yet to make acquaintances with him and who you assume is his daughter.

“You’re Tommy’s brother right?” You curiously ask, attempting to make small talk as Joel grunts while picking up the crate.

“Yes ma’am.”

Smiling at his Southern drawl, you run to help him carry one side of the heavy crate, feeling bad letting him do all the work.

“Uh uh, what do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, brow raised as you both stop in your tracks. “Helping you,” you state. He chuckles, shaking his head as he begins to walk.

“I asked if you needed help, darlin’. ‘Sides, what kinda man would I be letting a pretty girl like you carry all this shit by herself? My momma would have me by the head, ‘s for damn sure.”

You open your mouth to detest the notion that women need any assistance from men, but he stops you before you can.

“‘N I know ya don’t need any help from any man. You women are tough as shit, met a lota you over the years. Jus’ wanna help, ‘s all.” He kindly explains. You don’t understand why he wants to help, why he’s approached you specifically.

You’re aware that he’s typically very reserved, not leaving his house if he doesn’t have to. You’ve heard things about his past, and Tommy having confided in you at times, but the world has gone to shit. Who are you to judge? Everyone’s done some horrible stuff to stay alive.

He’s also painfully handsome. Opting to not object to his help and company, you sigh.

“Well, at least let me take some of the vegetables,” you protest, grabbing bunches of carrots. He chuckles quietly.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” he mutters. The nickname catching you both by surprise as a sort of tension falls over you two.

Flashing him a grateful toothy grin, you gather the vegetables in your arms. He gives you a small smirk in return.

“So how are you liking Jackson? I don’t see you ‘round much,” you ask as you begin the trek to the dining hall.

“‘S good. Big change, learnin’ the ropes of patrol. Makin’ sure Ellie’s settlin’ in,” he states. “And Ellie’s…”

“My family,” he says firmly. You nod, internally assuming she’s not his biological daughter.

“Well, I hope you both settle in nicely.” He feels his heart soften at your kindness.

He thought you’d have shied away from him, that you’d have listened to what people are saying about him around town.

But you didn’t. You took to him kindly, warmly.

He’ll be damned if he told Tommy he was right about you, He’d never hear the end of it… but shit, was he right. You were so kind and open-minded, and so beautiful.

The both of you making small talk as you trek to the dining hall, Joel lugging the crate into the kitchen for prep as you follow behind. He places the crate on the floor with a grunt. You drop the carrots in the box afterwards.

Rising to his feet, he sighs as he wipes his hands on his jeans, you copying his actions.

“Thank you again, Joel. I really appreciate it,” you tell him again. “Ain’t no problem, darlin’.”

Silence fills the air, save for the clanging and clattering of utensils in the kitchen.

“Would you… would you like to have a drink sometime? As a, uh, form of repayment for helping me today,” you timidly ask. A small smile breaks out onto Joel’s face.

“You ain’t gotta repay me, darlin’. But I’d love to grab a drink with ya,” he says.

Smiling from ear to ear, you nod happily. “It’s a date,” you say, before slapping a hand over your mouth as your eyes go wide. “I-I’m sorry. It’s not a date, it doesn't have to be. I mean, u-unless you want-,” you nervously ramble before Joel cuts you off.

“‘S a date,” he rasps. A soft smile on both your faces. The rest is history.

He wouldn’t trade that moment for the world, as he’s got you by his side now. He just didn’t expect that drink to lead him to trudging through the woods in the freezing early morning to cut down a tree.

He’d much rather be sleeping right now on his day off, but he can never say no to his girls.

Making your way through the woods, you and Ellie wind through the path while Joel stands and watches. There aren’t many trees, but just enough to scour from.

Not seeing any you like, you continue to walk down the path. “What about this one?” Ellie asks, standing next to a fir no taller than Joel.

Your eyes light up, a sparkly smile illuminating your face.

“It’s perfect. Great find, Ellie!” You yelp, high fiving the girl who’s equally excited.

“Hey, Joel!” Ellie shouts through her hands, her cheeks rosy and nose frosted. He clambers through the trees, saw in hand with his signature scowl. “Find one?”

“Mhmm,” Ellie says while beaming, you nodding in agreement. Joel sighs as he begins to saw down the tree. The trunk’s not very thick, the branches skinny, but still full enough to mimick the times before.

It falls to the snow covered ground, you and Ellie taking a few steps back. Joel stomps over to it, hoisting it up over his shoulder.

“Thank you, honey,” you whisper against his ear before placing a kiss on his patchy beard. His body flushing hot red from heat despite the cold air.

“Sure thing, baby,” he says bashfully, smiling a smile only reserved for you. Lacing his fingers with yours, you walk hand-in-hand back to the house with Ellie rambling ahead of you, vibrating with excitement.

“Joel, could you move it a little to the left?” You ask, hands clasped together over your lips. Joel grunts, red in the face as he shoves the fir to the left.

“A little more, please?”

Another grunt.

“A liiiitttllleee more.”

With a sigh, he shoves it once more.

“Perfect!” You clap. Joel rises to his full height, groaning as his bones crack and ache. You stride to him, leaning in for a kiss.

He could never stay annoyed at you.

“Thank you, honey,” you mutter with a dopey grin. Joel mirrors your expression, wrapping his hands around your waist and pressing his lips against yours. A saccharine kiss, your fingers curling in his grays.

His heart flutters as you sigh into him, your contentment radiating through your chest and into his soul.

When the fuck did his heart ever flutter?

“You guys gonna do that all fucking day or what?!” Ellie shouts, cutting ribbon and twine for the decorations.

You both startle at the sound of her voice, jumping in Joel’s arms. Joel glares at Ellie as laughter bubbles over your lips.

“Sorry, Ellie,” you call out. “Seriously, thank you, honey,” you tell Joel with a pat on his broad chest.

“No problem, darlin’,” he says softly with a swift kiss to your forehead before releasing you from his grasp. Joel strides into the kitchen to heat up some milk, with you rushing over to Ellie who sits at the dining table with an array of supplies.

You’re so good with Ellie, so patient with her while gently explaining how to string the dried oranges on the twine. She gets the hang of it pretty easily, holding it up and beaming with pride. Your giddiness mirroring hers, praising her as you waltz into the kitchen with Joel.

Placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, you flit around him as you pop some kernels in a hot pan. Transforming them into popcorn to make more garlands, and working in comfortable silence alongside each other.

You dump the popcorn into a bowl, you place a tender kiss on his shoulder before returning to Ellie.

Joel feels warm, and it’s not from the heat of the stove.

He preps mugs of hot chocolate for all of you, the chocolate powder stale but still good - the novelty of the gesture still there and just as sweet.

Padding into the living room, the sight of you two making decorations at the table and placing them on the tree tugs at Joel’s heart strings. Remembering how he’d help Sarah decorate their tree every year. Swallowing his grief, he allows himself to enjoy this moment while remembering his daughter.

That’s something you’re teaching him - not to take moments, things, people for granted.

Despite the pain, he knows he’ll confide in you later tonight about it when you’re alone. He sets the mugs on the table, making you pop your head up to flash him a dazzling smile.

“Thank you, honey.”

“‘Course, baby,” he says with a wink. Your smile grows wider, Ellie looking up and rolling her eyes. She playfully gags, Joel smacking his lips as his smile morphs into a scowl.

“Knock it off, kid,” he scolds.

“You knock it off, old man. We’re working here, and you keep distracting my partner,” she retorts. He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You can’t help, but laugh at their banter.

“Sorry, Ellie. I promise I’m listening,” your laughter dissolving into giggles. Joel rolls his eyes before getting a fire going in the fireplace.

Standing back and taking in the scene playing out in front of him. Hot chocolate, a tree, decorations being strung upon it - how is this possible? What did he do to deserve this?

He shakes the thought from his head, not questioning the good thing – the very good thing – in front of him. Instead, he enjoys watching his girls flit around the tree.

Ellie excitedly attempts to place the makeshift star on the tree that she crafted out of some stray branches and extra paper she had in her sketch pad.

She can’t reach, being significantly shorter than the tree. Huffing in defeat, she shoots you a look - both of you thinking the same thing. She whips around, paper star in hand.

“Joel, wanna do the honors?” She asks, holding out the star. Joel swallows thickly, never having thought he’d be doing this again.

“Sure,” he softly says, taking the star from Ellie and setting it atop the tree. The three of you stand back, admiring your hard work in silence, as you tightly wrap your arms around Joel’s middle. He holds you tighter.

“Looks good,” he mumbles. You nod, soft smile on your face.

“Hell yeah, it does!” Ellie giddily yells before cutting off her next thought. “No way, is that hot chocolate?!” She shouts, rushing to the table to grab a mug.

“Yeah, careful kid, it’s still hot,” Joel warns, still wound up in your arms. Ellie blows caution to the wind as she gulps it down.

“Ellie, slow down! You’re gonna get a stomachache,” you scold lightly. “It’s hot chocolate! When the hell am I ever gonna come across this again?!”

“I’ll find some more, jus’ slow down! Gonna be all fuckin’ hopped up on sugar,” Joel begrudgingly says. Rolling her eyes, she glances at the clock. Her eyes bug out of her head.

“Shit! I told Cat I’d meet her at 6!” She shouts before gulping down the rest of her hot chocolate, slamming the mug on the table.

“Be back later!” She says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Be back by 9!” Joel shouts. “Mhmm,” her tone dismissive. “I mean it, Ellie,” he warns.

“Sure thing, old man!” She says before reaching for the doorknob. “Ellie, 9 o’clock, okay?” You chime in, asking.

She turns around, taking in the both of you. “Okay,” she says with another roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh before heading out the door. It slams shut, making you and Joel wince.

Joel rolls his eyes. “Girl don’t listen,” rubbing his face as he grumbles.

“She’s just excited, can you blame her? Besides, she’s safe here, Joel,” you say, comfortingly rubbing your hands up and down his broad flannel-covered chest.

“I know. Just still getting used to all this,” he rasps. The two of you still stand in the doorway, wrapped up in one another before a grin breaks out on your face.

“Oh, could you help me with one more thing?” You beam at him. His brow quirks up in confusion. “‘Course, baby. What do ya need?”

You unravel yourself from his embrace, padding into the kitchen. He hears you clambering, his curiosity peaking. You return with something behind your back, smiling wider now.

Whipping the sprig of mistletoe from behind your back, you hold it above your head. His features softening.

Joel immediately recognizes what you’re holding, beaming at your antics.

“Could you help me hang this up please?” You ask, drawing out the last syllable, batting your lashes at him with a sly smirk.

“Y’know, if ya wanted a kiss, all ya gotta do is ask, babydoll,” he rasps as he takes it from you, not missing the chance to place a teasing kiss on your cheek. Waves of heat run through you from head to toe.

Joel hangs the mistletoe with ease on a nail that’s been conveniently placed above the kitchen entryway, right where you’re both standing.

You must’ve put it up there when he was on patrol a few days ago.

The red ribbon you tied around the plant stands out against the dark framing, the fire crackles in the background and illuminates the house.

“Well would ya look at that,” his voice low and husky as he locks his gaze with yours. A goofy grin on your face. “Huh. Guess you gotta kiss me now.”

“Don’t need mistletoe for that, babydoll,” he whispers. The two of you connect your lips with each other’s. Sighing into him, you finally have a moment alone with him today. You card your fingers through his hair, a satisfied groan escapes him.

You pull away breathlessly, both yours and Joel’s eyes heavy and glazed over.

“Ya know… Ellie won’t be back til 9. We’ve got some time left,” you teasingly whisper in his ear while he places a kiss to your neck.

“Lead the way, darlin,” he rasps, the two of you rushing upstairs.

just felt like writing some tooth rotting fluff for my Joely, i love him sm 😔

i hope y’all enjoyed! 🫶🏼 thank you for reading 🩷

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