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thriftedtchotchkes · 3 months ago

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how do you sleep?

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel's always there to comfort you with his words and a warm bed after a nightmare, but tonight, you need a little more

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, comfort, undefined relationship, getting together, mentions of nightmares & insomnia, smut, unprotected piv, slow/intimate sex, creampie

word count: 3.3k

“Whas’wrong?”

You didn't mean to end up here again. It's the third night this week you swiped Joel's key from under the doormat and found yourself standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Can't sleep," you reply, barely above a whisper. Exhaustion seeps into your voice, permeating your limbs the longer you remain standing.

He already knows why you're here. Ever since you, Joel, and Ellie arrived in Jackson and were offered homes of your own, rest evades you more than it ever did on the road. It's too quiet here, and your racing mind fills the silence with the horrors of a life lived in constant fear.

You know you're safe now. You know that, but it's not enough to convince your body or quell the ever-present tightness in your chest telling you to run, to hide. Your fears are more potent in the dark, and the shadows creeping from wall to wall have sharper edges. Teeth that threaten to tear you apart and rip away everything and everyone you've fought so hard to protect.

The walls and floorboards creak with life that shouldn't be present in an empty, two-story home—too big for a single person, and yet still yours—and quickly begin to sound like impending death.

Nowadays, more often than not, you seek out a different kind of shelter. The familiar, comforting embrace of the man who kept you warm and protected through harsh winters and from monsters prowling in the night. That's where you belong.

Crisp bedsheets rustle in the dark and then you hear Joel pat the mattress twice—an invitation to occupy the space beside him, the one he always leaves empty just in case.

"Well, c'mon then. Hurry up," he grumbles, still half-asleep. But he isn’t frustrated. He's tired, just like you, and he'll probably sleep a lot better knowing both of his girls are resting soundly under his roof.

You trudge over and waste no time burying your face in his bare chest, breathing in pine and cedar wood shavings before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. Throwing a leg over his thighs, you mold into him, rubbing your cheek into coarse curls and marveling at the calm, steady rhythm beneath you.

It feels good to be home. You're not sure why you let Maria give you an entire house to yourself when everything you could ever want or need was right across the street. Every time you end up back here, you wonder. And every time you leave, you wish you'd stayed.

He wraps you up in his arms and tugs you into his side, murmuring your name with soft lips that tenderly caress your forehead. They're so warm, just like the rest of him, and you find yourself aching to feel them on yours. It's a line neither of you have ever crossed, but tonight's been rough.

For what felt like days, you were forced to watch as your worst nightmares came to bloody fruition. You were dragged through the most brutal outcomes of events you already survived and could do nothing more than pray you'd wake up soon. When you finally came to and checked the clock, it had only been an hour and a half since you'd passed out. The moon was still high in the sky, taunting you with the promise of more. More dread, endless brutality.

Joel can make all of that go away, if only for a few hours. He always does, but tonight...you don't want to talk about it tonight. You don't want to think about it, about anything at all. You just want him.

You'd feel selfish asking for more if there wasn't already something between you. Something nurtured and gradual that's been building for months, beginning on your travels across the country and coming to an unignorable head here in Jackson.

Back then, it was stolen glances while you bathed together in streams and fleeting touches in your shared sleeping bag under star-filled skies. It's more intimate these days. He holds your hand when you're anxious, and you kiss away the frown lines and frustrated wrinkles that mar his skin.

Every day, you skirt the line between platonic companionship and whatever's starting to simmer below the surface. You're scared to hope he feels it too, but the thought of remaining in this undefined middle ground scares you even more.

The furnace drifting in and out of consciousness next to you radiates with an addictive heat you've told yourself to ignore for a long time, but it's quickly becoming an impossible feat. Pressed into his side, you're trying and failing not to writhe against him. But he's starting to notice.

His hips jerk every time your core drags against his bare thigh, a slow, repetitive grind you really shouldn't continue, but feels so fucking good combined with the slick pooling between your legs. You should stop—really, you should—but his breathing's changing and hitching, catching in his throat every time the growing tent in his boxers meets the friction of your inner thigh.

Then, he gasps something cognizant and urgent, and you know you've been caught. His hand snakes down to your ass and traps you against his side with a grip so firm, plush skin spills between his fingers.

“Woah, hold on there," he breathes out heavily, and his gaze drops to yours curiously. His eyes are wide open and alert, shining with the faint reflection of moonlight streaming through an adjacent window. Bright and yet pitch black as his sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up with his body. "What's goin' on with you tonight?"

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, debating whether or not to ask for his help. His expression is gentle but otherwise unreadable, and there's a chance this could go very, very badly. Maybe you'd be better off apologizing, but you don't want to. You're not sorry for needing him.

And the longer he waits for an answer, the more his body convinces you that he wants the same things you do. His hand is still on your ass, kneading as he urges you to rock into him, but he doesn't seem to realize he's doing it. Then, his thigh flexes and a rush of wetness coats your already soaked underwear. His expression falters, and you know he can feel it.

His voice is tighter when he speaks again, but that tinge of concern is still there. He wants to make it all better, but he can't unless you tell him how. Your hand tenses where it lies on his chest, and he covers it with his own.

"What can I do? Just tell me how to help you—whatever it is, I'll do it," he murmurs, brushing his thumb reassuringly across your skin. You tilt your chin up and suddenly you're close enough to breathe his air. Closer than you've ever been and yet still not close enough.

"I need you to...," Fuck me. But it sounds too crude. A quick fuck isn't what you need right now. You need to be full of him, to hold him deep inside you and keep him there for as long as this night will allow. "...make me feel safe again."

"Tell me how," he repeats as you struggle to bite back a moan. He's working you against him intentionally now, encouraging you up and down his leg, and it's making your brain go a little haywire. "What do you need, baby?"

"Joel," you whine at the endearment, an intense heat building at the apex of your thighs. That's new. You want to hear him say it again, to devour every word as he buries himself inside you over and over. You will him to understand. "I need you."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, steeling himself before nosing into the hairs at your temple. The gesture is so tender and affectionate even as he bucks into your thigh, and it's painfully obvious how hard you're making him. He nods slowly and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than before.

"Okay, baby. I got you," he murmurs, his lips trailing down to your eyelids, then the apple of your cheek. "I'll make it all go away, alright? M'gonna take care of you."

And you believe him. He rolls you onto your back and you gasp as his entire weight presses you into the mattress. It's more than just comforting. You feel protected. He's shielding you from this horrible, broken world, somehow managing to prove that there's still goodness to be found. And it's on top of you, broad and strong, and wanting you just as badly as you want him.

Big hands cup your cheeks and his lips meet yours, so much different than the familiar press against your forehead or the top of your head. You're in unknown territory, but he guides you carefully and moves slowly, taking the time to explore and savor. The taste of spearmint begins to overwhelm your senses as the kiss deepens, and you lick into his mouth impatiently, already craving more.

But after years of quiet observation, Joel knows better than anyone how to temper you. Ducking down to bury his face in your neck, he kisses along the underside of your jaw, regaining control of the pace with a sharp, halting suck. And while he refuses to let your urgency rush him, he still allows your hands to roam his skin and tug at his boxers, letting you take what you want—like his only goal is to make sure this lasts long enough for him to fulfill his promise.

A disgruntled groan bubbles in your throat, and you feel him chuckle. "Y'know, patience is supposed to be a virtue," he mumbles, amused, his beard scratchy and grounding against your skin. You huff in response.

Tonight doesn't feel like a night for virtues. Not when things are finally changing in your favor. After so much time, so much running, you actually have somewhere to go—and stay. You're not running away anymore. You're moving towards something that feels real, and dependable, and safe, and you're doing it together. And now that you're so close you can taste it, you're done waiting.

"You're really gonna start caring about virtues now?" you ask skeptically, slipping your hands past the waistband of his boxers to grab his ass.

He hesitates, then huffs out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough."

And with that, you both know the time for talking is over. Something shifts and you're on the same page, ready to take as much as the other is willing to give.

Joel begins to drag your shirt up to reveal more, but suddenly feeling stifled, you take over and remove it completely. The look on his face makes it more than worth it. It's not the first time he's seen you naked, but as his eyes rake over your bare curves, it feels like it could be. Reverently, he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply before charting a path lower.

His mouth feels hot as he laves and nips across your collarbone, and he shimmies further down the bed until he's just barely ghosting the swell of your breasts. You gasp, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a bruise below your nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue. Licking a wide stripe past the darkening mark, he captures the bud between his teeth, another hand sliding up your stomach to cup your other breast while he alternates between swirling and sucking.

Your entire body feels like it's on fire. The ache between your thighs worsens the longer he continues, but instead of squeezing them together for relief, you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him onto you. By now, you're so wet, there's no way you're not soaking right through your underwear and into his boxers, and you hope he can feel it. If your increasing volume isn't enough of an indication that you need him inside you, then maybe this will be.

He lets out a pained groan into your chest, and you clench in satisfaction. He immediately grinds down, thrusting into you like he's forgotten about the layers of clothing still separating you. You don't bother to remind him.

Bucking him off, you quickly wrench down your underwear then reach for his, yanking them off while he sheds his t-shirt. Your fingers close around his cock before his shirt hits the floor and he startles before melting into your grip, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting around a cross between a sigh and the neediest whine you've ever heard.

You feel that telltale whoosh between your legs again, and after pumping him a few times, you guide him toward your entrance. In the back of your mind, you know you're taking a risk without a condom. You should be safer, more responsible. But it's Joel. It's always been Joel.

His eyes shoot open once he realizes where you're leading him, but you only bite your lip and nod, your expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. An unspoken agreement passes between you, a quiet understanding cultivated through years of friendship and now something more. Then, he presses inside and your mind goes blissfully blank.

No more horrors, no more fear. Just Joel keeping his promise and doing exactly what you trusted him to do. He encompasses you entirely, pressing the length of his body flush against yours as he works himself into you. The stretch was nothing you ever could've anticipated, but it grounds you in the present moment. It's everything you told yourself not to hope for when you showed up on his doorstep tonight.

His movements are slow but powerful, and he rests his forehead on yours, eyes alert and acutely aware of every change in expression. The intensity of his gaze and the slick sound of him burying himself to the hilt should make you self-conscious—it's all you can see and hear, but that's the point, isn't it? To get lost in the way he drags so perfectly against your walls and grinds his hips into yours on every thrust, slow and steady.

He's attentive, cataloging whenever he makes you moan a little louder or your eyes roll, and repeats it again and again until you're writhing underneath him. Your nails rake down his back and scratch at his scalp, and he jerks forward whenever you're a little too rough, hitting so deep, it feels like he's grazing your cervix. But the longer he continues to give you everything you want, the more his body trembles with the effort of holding himself back.

You know Joel, and you can tell when he's resisting an urge. His biceps tense where he's propped on his forearms, bracketing your head, and there's so little space between you, you can feel his abs flexing every time he plunges back inside you. He needs more and you want to give it to him.

Lifting your head, you bridge the tiny gap to meet his lips. "Joel, c'mon. You can fuck me harder than that, I'm not gonna break," you mumble between open-mouthed kisses. That catches him off guard.

He accidentally lets himself go for a thrust or two, and you're cut off by a moan, your walls squeezing him so hard, it's painful. Somehow, you manage to recover just long enough to gasp out the rest. "It's okay if you need something from me, too. Just take it. I trust you."

For an agonizing moment, Joel pauses to observe you, waiting for something in your eyes to contradict the permission you just gave him. But when he doesn't find it, he shakily exhales the breath he'd been holding and his head drops to your shoulder. The groan that follows rumbles so deeply in his chest, it makes your stomach drop. Then, without warning, his hands are gripping your thighs and he's rutting into you like a caged animal finally set free.

There he is. The man who never hesitated to gun down anyone who threatened the safety of his loved ones and did whatever it took to bring his girls home.

Recognition washes over you and fills you with a familiar feeling of security. It's something only Joel has ever been able to give you. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his hair, hoping to return even a fraction of that feeling.

As he gives into his body, he starts to ramble, his words muffled and lost to your delicate skin. But you don't need to hear him to know what he's saying. With every thrust, the bed frame rattles and gets the message across loud and clear. Your heels dig into his back, encouraging him forward, begging him to keep going, and he obliges, quickly reduced to helpless grunts and curses.

The room gets increasingly hotter and more humid, and the cool air flowing through the window isn't nearly enough to provide relief, but neither of you seems to care. You're a little in love with the way your bodies slip together, sweat and slick intermingling seamlessly.

Everything is so wet, and it feels incredible—your skin against his, your walls pulsing around his cock. He's molding into you, so close that you can't do much more than swivel your hips into his, and it's sending you hurtling toward the edge faster than you can fully process. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit just right, and when he adjusts the angle to fuck you deeper than before, you hit your peak.

You dissolve into a whimpering mess beneath him, desperately riding out your orgasm as he groans and abruptly bites down on your shoulder. Releasing your legs to grab your waist, he forces himself impossibly further inside you and grinds into your spasming walls until he's coming with you. He gasps his way through it, stilling while he lets you milk him dry, then collapses on top of you and gathers you in his arms.

For a while, you both struggle to catch your breath. The mattress is bare save for the fitted sheet, your clothes, pillows, and blankets having been kicked or tossed onto the floor. It feels nice like this—to savor the winter air cooling your bodies and to just be held. Without letting you go, Joel lifts his head to kiss the teeth marks he left on your shoulder apologetically and then shifts higher to press his lips against the underside of your jaw.

"You alright?" he asks gently, his voice a little gruffer than usual from the exertion.

"Mhm," you hum, nosing into his temple. "More than." He sighs and almost sounds relieved.

The thought makes your heart ache. If he's worried he crossed a line, well. He did. You both did, but it was a long time coming and you don't regret a thing. You squeeze him a little tighter as if to tell him, and he allows himself to melt into you briefly. Then, he draws back to cup your cheek and guide your lips to his.

He kisses you slowly, taking the time to appreciate the sensation of your mouth against his without any urgency. "Feel better?" he murmurs after reluctantly parting from you. You keep him close.

"I don't think we have to worry about any more nightmares tonight," you reply with a small smile. He returns it, eyes crinkling fondly, then rolls you onto your sides to settle in for a good night's sleep.

As you start to drift off, you hear him chuckle and mutter something under his breath that you don't quite catch. But it sounds a lot like, "Might be time for you to finally move in."

thanks for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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polish-art-tournament · 4 months ago

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sculptures* round 1 poll 1

*and installations and some other stuff i didn't know where to put

Smok Wawelski (The Wawel Dragon) by Bolesław Chromy, 1969:

propaganda: This is a famous and beloved statue outside of Wawel Castle (pronounced Vavel) in Kraków. The story of Smok Wawelski goes that he'd been eating all the animals (and people?) in Kraków so the king ordered his sons to kill him, but obviously the dragon is very dangerous. The princes tricked him by filling animals with tar and leaving them out. He ate them and when he tried to breathe fire, his insides burned up. There is a second version that says a cobbler tricked him into eating a tar-filled sheep and the tar made him so thirsty he drank the Wisła (the Vistula, the river that runs through Kraków) until he burst.

Fun fact, those are not extra arms but rather extra heads. Also, you can text the dragon to ask him to breathe fire, and then he does. He gets thousands of texts a day.

about the artist: When I was a kid, I was sure this statue was the actual Smok Wawelski that had somehow carbonized over a thousand years, but alas no, a guy made it in 1969 out of bronze. Bronisław Chromy was an artist, a professor, and Dragon Mother. He passed away in 2017.

Pomnik Syreny (Monument of the Warsaw Mermaid) by Ludwika Nitschowa, 1939:

propaganda: The Warsaw Mermaid is the symbol of Warsaw, and her image is all over the city in various forms. She's a warrior and is depicted with a sword and shield. She lives in the Wisła River (the Vistula), which runs thru Warsaw. There are different variants of her legend, but they all have something to do with her involvement in the foundation of Warsaw and her eternal role in protecting the city.

There are several statues of Syrenka around Warsaw, but the one I picked was created by Ludwika Nitschowa in 1936. It is made of gunmetal, and it stands on the bank of the Wisła. The model for this statue was a Polish poetess named Krystyna Krahelska. Krahelska joined the Home Army during WWII and participated in the Warsaw Uprising. She was shot and killed while rescuing a wounded colleague. I think it's really special the way the myth of Syrenka played out like this -- she really did protect the city, like in the legend. Incidentally, this statue was one of the few pieces of art in Warsaw not destroyed by the war.

tldr: badass warrior mermaid, made by a badass woman, modeled on a badass woman. women!

about the artist: Ludwika Nitschowa is the creator several famous statues in Poland, including of Maria Skłodowska-Curie, Copernicus, and several of Fryderyk Chopin.

both statues were submitted by @slaviclore 🐉🧜‍♀️

#warsaw #warszawa #kraków #cracow #poland #ludwika nitschowa #bolesław chromy #ok nie zawiedźcie mnie... chcę tu zobaczyć porządną ogólnopolską rozróbę #i mean i remember how much yall loved pruszkowski's dragon painting so i fear you might be biased #but. go warsaw!!!#polls #sculptures #br3r1

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leah-lover · 2 months ago

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Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Summary: new job, old friends , and memories your tried to forget. Will you be able to dodge the past as you navigate your new job?

“ More news arrived from the RFEF who have promised that they were going through a systematic change after the Luis Rubiales scandal. They have announced this morning the arrival of a new head coach to lead the women’s team in the upcoming euro cup which will be held in switzerland. The 33 years old coach came from the united states where she led her team to victory in the nwsl. Her name may sound familiar to you because she was a part of Vilda's coaching staff until she decided to step away for unknown reasons. Although she has never coached a national team before, the new RFEF president is confident she will heal wounds left by her predecessor mostré tomé and restore the team to its winning ways.” says the reporter on the TV. you were sitting on your couch listening to her talking about your new job with player’s files in your lap. The international break was in 7 days and you needed to get familiar with everyone and have a clear plan of your strategy.

Being back in Spain brought back so many memories. You haven't come back since everything went down and you quit your job. You swore you would never come back to work with the RFEF however seeing everything unfold in the news you knew that agreeing to come back was more of a necessity than a choice. You loved the girls very much and you knew that they deserved better than what they got and you were adamant on giving them the best. Moreover, the new president was a woman you knew and was friends with. You trusted her and agreed to give her a chance. Besides Barcelona was the best city in the world, you couldn't pass up the chance to come back home.

As soon as you accepted your position, you contacted old colleagues, ones that you knew you could trust, and combined them with some of the existing staff that you were 100 percent sure were a safe fit for the new environment you were hoping to achieve and formed your new staff and announced it to the media. The fans were shocked at the amount of changes you made and their comments were very supportive of your decision which gave you a boost of confidence.

All you were thinking about was this team. You held and attended meetings all day long. You practically lived on your desk but it was all worth it because it all led to this phone call you were pursuing since the day you got to barcelona. You waited in front of your laptop anxiously waiting for your star player to join the zoom call. Shortly after you see her face pop on your screen.

“ hola.” you say enthusiastically. “ hola.” she replies. She looked much older since the last time you saw her, which was 4 years ago.

“ Thanks for agreeing to this call. It truly means a lot.” you say playing with a pen in your hands.

“ yeah it wasn't easy but i thought why not hear you out.” she replied.

“ So I am gonna get right to it. I want you to be back in the national team. You are the best center back i know, i want you to be in the te am, and you deserve to have a place in this team.”

“ I see you haven't changed, you are still as honest as you were but I would have to decline.” responded mapi.

“ I am turning things around maria. You know me, you know my story, you know everything. This time is different. I came back to make things different. You watched everything happen in front of your eyes. Do you truly think I could make someone feel the way I felt back then?”

Mapi stayed quiet, she was perhaps thinking about that night you decided to leave everything behind. The night the idea of las 15 was created.

“ okay.” you hear her say. “ I will come to this camp.” you are overjoyed “ you wont regret it leon.”

Your happiness was cut short because you remembered that you had to do this 2 more times with pina and leila. After 2 very long phone calls you got them to trust you and to agree to the return to the national team. You then drafted the call up list and sent it to your assistant.

The days leading up to camp went by quickly as your plans of the first steps towards rebuilding were coming to fruition.

You were sitting in your office when you heard a knock on the door, it was your assistant coach informing you that the players began to arrive. A wave of nerves watched over you but that was to be expected. You were a part of this team before and you hoped they would welcome you back with open arms. You were wearing casual clothes so that you won't be seen as authoritarian. You settled for a white t-shirt, black pants and shoes, and you wore your hair down. Your objective was to appear normal and friendly to the members of the team you weren't familiar with. You headed straight for the conference room and waited for the first people to arrive. Shortly after that Irene walked through the door. You were instantly transported back to 4 years ago which is the last time you and the captain have spoken. You closed your eyes briefly to try and get the bad memories away and open a new chapter with the captain. You shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with her and the rest of the barca group but quickly moved on to the other members that had joined. After they were all settled in their chairs you noticed the absence of the person you were most afraid to see, alexia putellas. Before you accepted the job you wrote down a pros and cons list. The first reason you put on the pros was the paycheck and the glory. However for the cons the first thing you wrote down was alexia putellas’s name. Seconds after you thought about her she appeared. She was just as beautiful and charming as you remembered. She immediately came to you but without sharing eye contact with you. She went in to kiss your cheek as a way to say hello and you did too. She still smelled like before and her smell still had a magnetic power over you. She then took a seat next to Irene and you pulled yourself together again and started your presentation.

“ Hello everybody and welcome. You all heard of me, some of you even were a part of my team when I was working here which feels like a lifetime ago. But in that lifetime this team has risen from the underdog to the most favored and feared team in the world. I am here to continue that legacy and help the team strengthen its roster. But I am also here to create an environment, a culture, and a safe space for you all. You all are the best in Spain and you deserve to be treated like it. This culture I am trying to create involves no tolerance for homophobia, transphobia, racism, or sexism. I urge you to report any case of abuse or mistreatment from my staff or your teammates. I tried my best to employ people I trust and are advised to report anything that made you uncomfortable. So Without further or do let's talk strategy.”

You go over everything you expect from the team and how the strategy is going to change. You then instruct your team to go rest so that training may begin tomorrow at 9 am.

On their way out you called for the captain to have a word with them. Once the room is empty you quickly say ” so you heard everything i said, i just want to make sure that you two know that i mean Plus the captaincy is going to change. Obviously, you two are the captain and vice. You can come with me with any concern or question about anything.my door is always open. I am appointing jenni as the 3rd captain.”

“ That wouldn't go over well with the federation,” said irene.

“ Well, I don't care. They knew who they hired. Plus I don't play by their rules.” you respond. The captains share a satisfactory look with you although you haven't looked at either of their eyes, then leave.

Your transition to head coach seemed to be seamless. The players were responding to your advice and strategies. The media seemed to be happy with the changes you made and especially with the arrival of mapi leon. The vibe of the club overall was great, and you were getting comfortable in your new spot. However, it was all about to change at the pro match press conference. The conference itself went great. You and the vice captain answered all the questions given to you without any mishaps. But once the media left and you were left alone with alexia, you felt yourself suffocating so you quickly got up to leave.

“ You can't avoid me forever,” said Alexia calmly.

“ Who said anything about avoiding you? The conference is done, so I am leaving. If you want to talk to me about anything, my office door is always open.” you say with a cold tone not bothering to look at her.

“ You don't talk to me like you never do. Besides you won't even look at me." Alexia sounded sad. All you wanted was to take away all her pain but you couldn't.

“ I talk like this to everybody.” you hear her get up and see her in front of you. Not looking her in her eyes would prove her point, and doing it would rip you to shreds. You suck it up and look at her hazel captivating eyes. “ Happy now?” you respond. “ We can't continue like this, we have to talk about that night.”

“ alexia there is nothing to talk about. I forgot everything that happened ,I moved on. I am your coach right now. If you have a concern about anything football related, come to my office.” you were lying straight to her face. You didn't move on or forget what happened. You just hoped your tough girl act would hold with her.

Game Day was always fun for you but this time around it had a little nervousness attached to it since it was your introduction as the new coach. You started your day witha call from the RFEF board wishing you good luck and re-stating their confidence in you. You revised your strategy, confirmed you starting 11, and headed to the bus so that you would head to the stadium. You decided on a blue suit and let your hair down. You looked both masculine and feminine which summed up your personality perfectly.

Once you arrived at the stadium you gave the girls a motivational speech, headed to your seat in the sidelines and waited for the game to begin. You weren't a loud manager. You just sat there, observed the play and took notes. You trusted the girl’s judgment and gave them some autonomy when it came to the style of play which rewarded you with a goal in the 8th minute by aitana bonmati. The 1-0 unset turned into 6-0 by the 76th minute which made you proud of your debut. However it all turned into chaos when alexia putellas fell on the field. You panicked as the paramedics ran to her. You watched intensely as they examined her and waited for the signal that informed you that you needed a substitution which you got almost immediately. Your heart broke for the recently healed midfielder but you had other things in mind. You called for Teresa Abelleira and subbed her in. The game ended in a 7-0 win. You shook hands with everybody, did an interview but the thought of alexia didn't leave your mind. As soon as you were done you semi sprinted to the locker room. Once you got there you found irene.

“ Is it the acl again?” you ask worryingly.

“ No, it's just a muscle strain and her knee is acting up again.” you breathe for the first time in an hour.

“ This is happening because of you.” she says harshly.

“ Excuse me.” you couldnt believe what you heard.

“ You shouldn't have come back here. You taking this job was a mistake. You have opened up an old wound and this is just the beginning.”

“ I am going to have to stop you right here. First, I am your boss not your buddy from back in the day so you are going to have to take a step back and show some respect. Second, you have the nerve to talk to me about making mistakes knowing that you ruined my life not too long ago.

“ She didn't sleep last night. That's why she got injured today. I am worried about my friend.”

“ You should have thought about your friend 4 years ago.” you say as you enter the medic’s room leaving her behind.

You found alexia with tape on her knee and achilles. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see you come in and sit next to her.

“ I am willing to talk about that night this time only. Say everything you need but once I leave this room you are never going to bring it up again.”

The only way to make it out is through. You thought.

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso request #alexia x reader #alexia putellas fic #woso smut #alexia putellas #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt

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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

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fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before.

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it?

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name.

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face.

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them.

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that.

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened.

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah.

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing.

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him.

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol.

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit.

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late.

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head.

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse.

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?”

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig.

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly.

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?”

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door.

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone.

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself.

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet.

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening.

Kent was going after you.

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around.

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent.

That couldn’t fucking be good.

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh.

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two.

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist.

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear.

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard.

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face.

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley.

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more.

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you.

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet.

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it.

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest.

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you.

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face.

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours.

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards.

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you.

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?”

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.”

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin.

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side.

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted.

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship.

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring.

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls.

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk.

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered.

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar.

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else.

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it.

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world.

A fucking slab of carved wood.

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder.

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt.

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers.

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church.

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly.

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words.

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him.

He was right, after all.

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?”

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.”

It had been a statement, not a question.

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone.

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse.

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee.

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest. “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables?

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone.

Want, sure.

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther.

But Joel didn’t just want you.

He fucking needed you.

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain.

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?”

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you.

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek.

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body.

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.”

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours.

You heard him chuckle softly.

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle.

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss.

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

And what about you?

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it.

None.

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench.

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss.

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you?

He couldn’t. Simple as that.

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself?

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further.

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance.

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat.

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt.

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline.

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise.

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt.

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else.

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t.

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.”

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle.

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest.

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t.

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson.

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God.

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?”

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression.

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller self insert #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters #fic: fall into temptation

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xmalereader · 1 year ago

Text

DI Leon Kennedy X Bunny! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: The horny police came for me. Also expect a lot of hybrid shots.

Summary: Leon is in need of a vacation and wants to spend more time with his bunny boyfriend, perhaps start his vacation with some welcome home sex?

Warnings: Fluff, backstory, mentions of Jill and Carlos, death island spoilers-ish, NSFW, MDNI 18+ only, kissing, dirty talk, pet names, collars, mentions of heats, sensual sex, Leon’s a tease, more romantically sex then rough, reader is a hybrid rabbit, rabbit traits, bunny ears and tail.

Word count: 3.3k

Leon wasn’t kidding when he said that he needed a vacation.

After the events of Alcatraz and going against Maria and Dylan, Leon knew that he needed a break from everything to at least get some time on his own before Hunnigan finds him another mission to take.

Once they were picked up from the island and flown back out, he returned back home with the rest of the others, making it to the airport in one piece as the all board off. Leon had already told Hunnigan that the minute he lands home he won’t be accepting any missions since his vacation starts now. Jill had reunited with Carlos an ex-umbrella agent who’s she’s been seeing for awhile now, while Chris and Claire had each other.

Leon didn’t really expect anyone to wait for him at the airport since he actually never told anyone that he would be home early. Before he could leave he’s invited out for some drinks by Jill, waving him over while the others wait for him only for him to turn down their offer.

“Leon S. Kennedy turning down a drink?” Said Chris while chuckling, “Are you still infected?”

Leon shakes his head with a laugh. “No infected, Rebecca cleared me up.” He responds back, holding his duffel bag in his left hand while he slows walks backwards and away from the others. “Besides, I’ve got somewhere to be.” He adds on, eager to get home while he gives everyone a smile, leaving them all confused and asking themselves why Leon was so eager to leave.

No one would have thought that Leon had a partner waiting for him back at home. After everything that he’s been through, no one would think that he would find someone that he would settle down with or perhaps devote his time too due to him being busy with the work and the amount of things that he goes through a daily bases.

After the events in China, Leon had given up on chasing after Ada, chasing after someone who he knew he couldn’t have and finally made the choice to move on with someone who he could actually have a possible future with. Imagine his surprise when he ends up finding a special experiment during one of his missions.

He was assigned to locate an old lab that belonged to umbrella searching for classified information that could help them for any future bio weapons that they were to stumble upon only to find a special experiment locked away in the deeps of the lab. Leon didn’t expect himself to find someone there alive still, but when he took a good look at the lab he noticed how recent the technology was used and the different types of medicine and chemicals that were used.

He had reports back to Hunnigan, letting her know that the lab he was assigned to search was still being used and had found someone still alive. He thought he had stumbled upon another dangerous bio weapon only to find a man with animal characteristics chained up to a wall, looking very malnourished and thin. What caught Leon’s attention was the pair of rabbit ears on his head along with a tail that peaked out from underneath his shirt and pants that he wore.

Leon had freed him that day and took him back to base where Rebecca exams the man and get further medical attention. Both Hunnigan and Leon were able to search through the files under the lab and found various files under the name Project Zero giving them further information about the hybrid that lied asleep in their own lab. Turns out that the man wasn’t entirely human since he was first found but a rare hybrid that hid from society, taken from his home at a young age only to be experimented on for who knows how long.

They kept the hybrid a secret in order to keep him safe until they found out more about his species and where he came from. When the hybrid first woke up he was in shock and panic, destroying the lab and fighting back whenever someone approached him. Leon had stepped in to help only to be caught by surprise when the hybrid jumped into his arms, holding onto him tightly and not letting go. The agent himself was in shock by the sudden move.

It wasn’t until later that he finds out that the hybrid felt safer around him since he remembers him rescuing him from the lab and taking him out of that awful place. Rebecca was able to check up on the hybrid without any issues due to Leons presence in the room and from then on it took time for them to find out more about the hybrid and finally getting him to talk and to give them his name.

Y/n was able to tell them everything from the time he was take to the time that he was rescued by Leon. He was very young when he was taken along with his family. Being experimented on and losing everyone but himself, due to him being the youngest the scientist kept him alive the longest in order to see how he grew and developed with time.

Even though Y/n was able to tell them very little he still held a fear of being used by them and closed up every few days. They knew that they couldn’t keep the hybrid locked inside a lab forever, triggering his traumas whenever he was around the room it wasn’t until Leon volunteered to take care of him, getting Hunnigan to find him a secluded area for the both of them in order to grant the rabbit a bit of freedom without society knowing about him just yet.

When Hunnigan found them a place to stay for both Leon and Y/n for the time being until they were able to figure out more about his species and with the time that Leon and Y/n’s spent alone in the cabin he was able to find out more about the hybrid, reporting back to Hunigan and letting her be know that Y/n reacted in the same manner as a rabbit.

He had a great sense of smell, hearing, very calm and of course, faster than Leon whenever they went on runs together. His ears were sensitive to him along with his tail, having to cut holes in all of the clothes that Leon got for him. He also discovered that even though Y/n was a rabbit he was able to tolerate meat and not always relied on vegetables only eating small amounts of it before focusing back on something he can eat without any problems.

The one things that Leon never reported back to Hunnigan due to embarrassment was Y/n’s heat.

It started off with Leon’s shirts going missing, surprising the man whenever he opened his drawer or closet only to notice the shortage of clothes. He ignored it at first and simply bought himself more clothes.

The next was how much the rabbit was eating, finishing his plate rather quickly and getting seconds without needing to ask. Leon told himself that he was perhaps getting adjusted to getting proper meals again due to the amount of time he was locked away and fed very little.

The breaking point was when he noticed how close and affectionate Y/n was being towards him. He was either leaning in close to him whenever they would watch a movie together or would find the rabbit in his bed the next morning, curled up to his side without a care. That’s when Leon looked into his behavior only to find out that it all pointed towards the hybrids heat, knowing that its something that rabbit have all year round, but for Y/n it was only every few months.

Leon never reported back to Hunnigan the things he did that night with the hybrid the way he sounded and the way that Y/n’s back would arch whenever Leon fucked into him. The agent knew that he should have said something, but didn’t.

Ever since then the two have grown closer, deepening the bond that he had with Y/n until he was finally off the hook.

The Hybrid stayed with Leon after 3 years the two have gotten closer than ever and knew each other like the back of the hand. Leon needed someone that he could talk too that he can come home too whenever he completed a mission instead of coming home to an empty house full of silence.

When Leon arrived home from the airport and stepped inside his home he’s greeted by a faint smell of his favorite food being cooked along with some music playing. His lips twitch into a faint smile as he sets his bag down and closed the door behind him and makes his way towards the kitchen where he finds his little bunny cooking.

He’s humming along with the music while stirring the pot the smell of various different spices that he’s cooking blinding his sense that he doesn’t notice the familiar scent that belonged to Leon until his floppy ears perked up when he hears the sound of his familiar heartbeat causing him to turn around in surprise.

“Leon!”

He turns the heat down and rushed over to Leon, hugging the man and smiling widely as Leon returns the gesture and chuckled. “I’m back…” He breaths out tiredly, clearly jet lagged from the long flight back home.

“You said you wouldn’t be back until next week.”

Leon chuckled. “I finished earlier than I thought.” His fingers brushed against Y/n’s check, holding him close before leaning down to capture his lips into a soft kiss when the kiss is returned he doesn’t stop himself to deepen it. Y/n can feel Leon’s hand trail down his back and pull him closer he tries to break away from the kiss, but Leon keeps leaning in. “Leon..the food…” he’s able to breath out between kisses only for Leon to guide them towards the stove, reaching over to turn the knob off.

“Food can wait.” Leon finally says then went on to remove his jacket and Y/n swore he was salivating at the sight of the man’s broad shoulders and biceps now out in better view. His shirt clung well to his form and made his waist look smaller and his torso bigger and god, Y/n was about to hyperventilate. “Missed you while I was gone, missed the way you feel against me.” Leon had mumbled out, lips hovering over his as he guides him towards the living room, hands on his hips while he walks them over.

“Finally got that vacation, told Hunnigan that if she needs someone for a job she will have to bother someone else.”

Y/n whimpered, unsure what to do or say next. “Y—you—we-“

The man pounced.

Leon’s arm shot out to pin him against the large couch, getting the hybrid to gasp in surprise by his sudden strength. His ears falling back against his head while he stares up at Leon who towered over him. His skin on fire, with his back pressed straight against the couch underneath him and his insides burning for anything to happen. He could already feel his thoughts officially turn to mush and his instincts just come alive with want, please, want, want, want.

Y/n hadn’t been aware he would be so desperate for something like this after Leon’s return. He’s handled longer missions and never felt such way until now. His head was light, almost to the point of dizzy, as he found himself looking up at Leon. “Look at you, baby. You’re so ready for me. You’ve been starving for this for some time, hm?”

“Y-Yes.” Y/n groaned, face growing hot in embarrassment as Leon got closer to him, one large hand reaching down to his thighs. Leon can only smirk, leaning down close in order to continue teasing his rabbit. “Eager I see, want me to fuck you?” Y/n could moan like a dying man, “Yes.” He can feel Leon’s hands trailing down his legs, eyes roaming down his body.

The agent can only chuckle by Y/n’s squirming, knowing how much he missed and craved for the hybrid as he slips his hand underneath his shirt, fingers exploring his chest and stomach until his thumb grazed over his nipple. “I’m going to make you feel good, back blowing--”

“Leon!” Y/n whines out in desperation.

Leon chuckled and blew against his ear, “Let me finish, baby.”

Y/n was about to cry.

“I’m going to make sure that our neighbors are able to hear you from here, let them know that you are all mine and how much I missed the tight little hole of yours.” Leons hand founds its way between the hybrids legs, cupping him over the shorts he wore while his middle finger stroked over his entrance.

“P-Please.” Y/n whimpers out while fighting back a moan from escaping past his lips. “You’re cute when you beg.” Said Leon and the hybrid is quick to know what he wants, knowing that he won’t do anything until he hears him beg for it.

“Please…j-just fuck me. Please. Fuck me. God, Leon, please, please. Want you. Please!” He could paw at Leons pants if he didn’t feel like it would be too much effort to try and move. “Ok, baby, whatever you want.” And then he gripped Y/n and hoisted him up pressing himself against him. “Legs around me. Now.” Y/n scrambled to do so, wrapping them around the man’s waist, and whined.

Instantly, Leon started to move. He gave a few experimental grinds between Y/n’s legs and the hybrid nearly shrieked with joy. Then the sinful mouth found its way to Y/n’s neck and without any sort of timidness or pause latched on to it. Leon nibbled and sucked to the point Y/n knew it would leave a bruise and nearly orgasmed right then from the thought. Y/n’s fingers found their way into Leon’s hair, tugging on them and is rewarded with a bite.

“Fuck, been waiting to have a taste of you ever since I got back.” Leon gave him another bite on the neck before he lapped at it with his jaw. “How about we remind our neighbors your pretty sounds, hmm? I want to hear my name spilling from your pretty lips more but let’s just hear how good it sounds.”

Y/n broke out into a drawn-out whine as Leon positioned himself to angle right up against Y/n’s short covered cock and began to slowly, but with more authority, thrust up against it.

“Say my name.” Leon ordered.

“L—Leon.” Y/n fumbled out and gave out another cry when that earned an even harder thrust. Leon moaned out. His voice sounded like sin. “Now, lets get started on getting you filled up.” Y/n’s face grows bright red. “Gonna stretch this pretty hole of yours and make sure that my cock is the only one you need.”

Y/n released a broke, high-pitched whine that dissolved into a moan which caused Leon to start rutting against him, grinding as if they were in some filthy club, and Y/n did his best to keep up but he felt himself just losing his mind. It was like he was floating away and getting drunk. Leon’s mouth and attention was actually making him go insane and he couldn’t help but love it.

He wanted more.

The two kissed like they didn’t have enough time together, tongues battling against each other, lost in the moment while Leon works on getting the hybrid undressed. Finally getting rid of the shirt he wore and quickly fumbling with the shorts he wore. Y/n moans when he feels the cool air once Leon removes his shorts along with his boxers and Leon smiled and went back to kiss over his face, trailing down his neck, to his chest.

He licked at a nipple and growled when his hybrid lover gave a gasp. His fingers trailed up and down his side, tickling over his chest and hips.Leon went back up to the hybrids chin and began to nibble, it was one of his favorite places on his lover, and smiled to himself when he earned another little rush of air. It was adorable.

With another nip he pulled back, smirking to himself when he gave off a little whine, trying to reach out to him in desperation. “Hold on, impatient little thing.”

Leon was quick to remove the blue shirt he wore. He started to unbuckle his belt when he heard another little noise. Staring down, he smirked when he saw those eyes looking at his bare chest with clear want and hunger. “You’re staring…you can’t hide anything can you?” Y/n’s eyes snapped back up to him in embarrassment.

Leon chuckled, “You have nothing to be ashamed about. I like it when you stare.” When Y/n avoids his look he smiles with amusement and leaned down to kiss him again, barely able to resist the skin. “A-Ah…” Y/n whimpered and Leon paused a moment over the hybrids collarbone but then trailed up to the neck again, lips playing over the collar. “Baby,” Leon began to push his pants off, groaning when they came in contact with each other completely bare and with a whimper, Y/n’s clenched his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath.

Y/n bites his lip when he felt Leons harden cock graze against him and tried to keep his breathing under control. The man was large, probably larger than Y/n ever handled before, and he simultaneously felt excited. With a noise that sounded like a squeak, Y/n’s body arched slightly as those larger hands wrapped around him and pressed against his back, smoothing down till they grabbed his backside and squeezed and pushed the cheeks apart. Y/n released a silent choking sound, surprised at the aggressive grip, eyes wide towards Leon. “Oh, gods.” He moans out.

Leon doesn’t need to prep him due to how wet he already is and easily slides inside, earning a chocked out moan. It takes Y/n a few minutes to adjust to Leon’s size again after not doing it for some time before he finally grows comfortable and gives him a nod to move. Leon doesn’t need to be told twice as he began to move his hips, leaning down to capture his lovers lips into a kiss.

Y/n meets him thrust after thrust, finally breaking their kiss when he’s doing little more than gasping and panting and moaning Leon’s name over and over and over again into his mouth. Leons eyes begin to burn, he’s so overwhelmed and frantic and on fire that he’s not sure how much longer he can last. He ducks his chin to press his lips to Y/n’s flushed chest, before Y/n curses and drags Leons mouth back to his.

“I love you,” Leon breathes when he can’t take it anymore - his blood is searing through his veins like lava, he’s surrounded by Y/n in breathtaking ways he never could have hoped to be. On top of it all, amongst their slapping skin and gasps and moans. He rests their foreheads together, bringing a trembling hand up to Y/n’s face and pressing his thumb against Y/n’s cheek. Y/n swipes his tongue against his swollen, kiss-bitten red lips and flutters his eyelashes Y/n rolls his hips on Leon’s cock only once more before he’s coming, too, impossibly tighter around Leon while he’s still riding his own high. It draws a long, satisfied moan from deep in Leon’s chest that has him wondering how soon he could go again, or how quickly he could coax Y/n to hardness again.

“I love you, too,” Y/n breathes against Leon’s lips, trembling and panting and sweating. “Welcome home, too…”

That causes Leon to laugh, hearing the sudden welcome home after everything. “I am home.” Leon breaths out while claiming the hybrids lips into another deep kiss.

#male reader #Leon Kennedy x male reader #rabbit hybrid #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x hybrid reader #hybrid reader #resident evil #resident evil x male reader #death island Leon Kennedy #DI leon Kennedy x male reader #Leon Kennedy x reader #kinktober

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 month ago

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Teen Villain Alliance Chapter 6

When Fenton had given Damian his task of attending classes and picking a team, he hadn’t expected to start enjoying it.

Which was a miscalculation on Damian’s part. Damian had always enjoyed learning; his mother had been indulgent with what he learned as a child, sending tutors in everything that caught his interest, from art to world history to veterinary medicine. It wasn’t until his education in assassination began in earnest–around his 7th birthday–that his interests were stifled. And when he’d been sent to live with Father, it ground to a halt.

It took months for Father to deem him “tamed” enough to introduce him to the public, and even then he was not allowed an education. While Damian was grateful that he wouldn’t endure public schooling, Father didn’t even allow tutors on the premises. Instead, Damian attended “online school” which consisted of video lectures and multiple choice quizzes on topics he’d covered years ago. In addition to the online school, he had daily lectures on “ethics” and “societal norms” from either Pennyworth or Grayson, neither of which were experts in the area. He’d asked.

The TVA was different. Better, if he were honest, but he’d never admit it aloud. The teachers were ghosts, experts in their fields. Who else could say that they learned chemistry from Maria Skłodowska-Curie, or battle tactics from the first Amazonian, Pandora? The ghosts around him were not stuck in the past, nor apathetic to life on earth; instead, they kept learning, kept evolving, with a careful eye on the world outside the Infinite Realms.

And despite himself, Damian even enjoyed having classmates. No class was large–most didn’t have more than 10 students per teacher–and many classes involved a debate aspect that allowed them to get to know each other. Just the other day, Damian had spent over an hour discussing the methods for creating a locked door murder with Shadowblade, a 14-year-old ninja from Japan.

There was no competition, with the exception of combat classes. In the League, and at Wanye Manor, he was always competing. To be the best so he wouldn’t be replaced, to be strong to live up to the name of Al Ghul. Competing for Father’s attention, his approval, over the ingrates that make claims to a birthright that is not their own. With Grayson, Todd, Cain, Drake; each of them stronger, faster, better trained, better behaved.

Trusted.

Was it any wonder that Damian had jumped at the chance to prove himself?

Dr. Fenton–Danny, the man had insisted–trusted him. He wanted Damian to lead his team in the field. In his hand was a list of all the members he would work with, and the paper was tacky with sweat. Taking a deep breath, Damian knocked on the door to Fenton’s lab.

After a few minutes, Fenton opened the door. He looked frazzled, hair astray and lab-coat half on. “Damian!” He said, smiling brightly. “I wasn’t expecting you, come in! I just reached a good stopping point for my latest project.” He invited Damian into the lab. “What can I help you with?”

Damian held out his list. “These are the four members of the TVA that I thought will work best as your infiltration squad.” He’d thought long and hard about who had the skills to join and, more importantly, who he could tolerate working directly under him.

Fenton smiled. “That’s great! Have you started talking to them? Making friends?”

“...Some,” Damian decided on, thinking back to Shadowblade. “Everyone on that list has skills or abilities that would enable easy information gathering. I have yet to approach them though; I thought you’d prefer to determine if I’ve made the right choice.”

“Fantastic! I’ll give them to Jazz in a bit, see if there’ll be any conflicts. How’s everything going for you? Have you enjoyed all your classes?”

Damian nodded, but looked away. There was another reason why he was here. “May I… ask you something? I’ve encountered a conundrum that I could use advice for.”

“Of course! I’m always willing to ask. But if I may ask, why don’t you ask Jazz? She’s mentioned that she hasn’t seen you in her office once, and she gives fantastic advice.”

Damian made a face. “I see no reason to submit myself to brainwashing when I am already a loyal member of this organization. There’s no need for me to attend.”

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, we’ll come back to that eventually. But what’s bugging you, Damian?”

Damian swallowed. Suddenly, all the anger from the thought of therapy drained out of him and he sagged. “Is it… bad? That I am happier now than I was before?”

“What do you mean?” Danny asked, leading Damian over to a couch near the entrance of the lab. It was clearly a recreational space, with a gaming system in front of a TV. Damian sat beside him as he considered his words.

“I… enjoy my time here. I like it more than I’ve liked anywhere else. And I should not. I shouldn’t be enjoying this life while leaving the people who raised me behind. My mother, my grandfather—this feels like a betrayal.” His father would be so disappointed in him if he learned how affected these villains made Damian.

Danny’s face softened. He took in a deep breath, turning in his seat to face him. “I can understand that. Did something similar to my folks when I joined Phantom, you know.”

“...Really?” No one knew about the Wolves' pasts. Many of his fellows speculated, but no one knew for sure. The top theory for Fenton was that he was a mad scientist on the run from the government.

“Yeah.” Danny nodded, glancing down for a moment before meeting Damian’s gaze. “When I was your age, I... betrayed my parents too. Not in the same way as you, but... my parents were ghost hunters. They spent their lives teaching me and my sister that ghosts were dangerous, evil. And for a long time, I believed them. But then they built a portal to the Ghost Zone, and ghosts starting coming through, and Phantom happened, and…” He looked away, swallowing. “I realized how wrong they were.”

He paused, gauging Damian’s reaction. The boy was listening, quiet but intense.

“I ended up siding with the very things they want to destroy,” Danny continued. “They want to indiscriminately massacre an entire species. They even co-authored a law that makes it legal to experiment and execute ghosts in American territory.”

“What?” Damian couldn’t believe what he was saying. There couldn’t be a law that so blatantly breaks the Metahumans Protection Act, right? The Justice League–Father–would never stand for it.

“It’s true,” Fenton said, as if to counter Damian’s thoughts. Damian boosted his mental shields just in case Fenton was a telepath. “There’s a whole government organization dedicated to ‘researching’ ghosts. Of course, they’re more interested in dissecting them.” Damian shuttered. “See? It’s clear that they’re in the wrong in this instance. That helps me some, when I keep thinking about how I betrayed my parents. But even knowing I was doing the right thing, it still hurts. Sometimes the people who are supposed to protect us and put us first end up hurting us the worst.”

Fenton placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid. You’re so smart, and you have so much potential. But what your grandfather did to you was wrong. What your mother did was wrong. And you have every right to distance yourself from any situation where you feel unsafe.”

Damian looked away. “They were just trying to make me stronger,” he muttered.

“Would you ever do what they did to someone else? Even to make them stronger?”

Damian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his mind swirling with memories of training, the endless demands for perfection, the blood on his hands. He thought about how much he had been shaped by the League, how much he had been forced to be something he hadn’t chosen. And then there was his father. He had felt so out of place, constantly trying to meet expectations he didn’t fully understand, let alone agree with.

“No,” Damian whispered, the answer clear. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Danny said, smiling gently. “It doesn’t matter what they wanted for you. You’re not betraying them by living a better life or by choosing a path they wouldn’t have chosen for you.”

Damian stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing Danny’s words. A small weight lifted from his chest. He didn’t need to feel guilty for enjoying this life—this better life—away from the constant pressure of the League, or from the expectations of his father.

Danny leaned back again, folding his arms behind his head, the familiar goofy grin returning. “And hey, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing pretty awesome here. You kicked butt in those combat drills last week.”

Damian flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “You saw those?”

“Yup,” Danny popped his lips, grinning smugly. “Sam and Phantom are so jealous you’re on my team instead of theirs. They’re planning to poach you, but I trust that you’ll dismiss their bribes.”

A small, rare smile tugged at Damian’s lips.

#teen villain alliance #dcdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #c: danny fenton #c: damian wayne

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tortilla-of-courage · 3 months ago

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so i have just now learned that the English and Japanese versions of Twilight Princess, in the Hidden Village cat-finding minigame, only give you a generic "you found me!" message and a counter when you talk to the cats

this is NOT the case in the Spanish (and French) versions of the game (AFAIK! maybe others have it. i could imagine Italian doing it too). in those, most cats have unique names, and feature personalized messages about how much fun they're having playing the game with you

I'll only cover the Spanish ones in this post. if you wanna see the French ones, you should check PikZel's thread over on Twitter/X!

you'll see a lot of miaus (Spanish for Meow) and -ifú/-fú (common suffixes for cat names) in the names! they all give their little message followed by "¡# gato(s), miau!" ("# cat(s), meow!"), and if you talk to them again they say "¡Ya has hablado conmigo, mirrimiau!" ("You've already talked to me, mrrmeow!")

I'll try to translate the puns as best as possible 🫡

¡Qué guay! ¡Soy Manolifú!

"This is so cool! I'm Manolifú!" (Manolo (name/nickname for Manuel) + -ifú)

¡Llámame Mario! ¡Qué divermiau! ¿Estará mi hermano por aquí?

"Call me Mario! I'm having so meowch fun! Is my brother around here?" (missed opportunity for Miaurio/Meowrio imo)

¡Cómo mola! ¡Mis amigos me llaman Michel!

"This rules! My friends call me Michel!" (could also be Michelle, so either fem or masc leaning. also Mewchel/Miauchel maybe?)

¡Qué miauy! ¡Me caes requetemiau! Soy Isabel, y me encanta el atún.

"So ameowzing! I like you a meowt! I'm Isabel, and I love tuna!" (meowt → meow + lot. just in case lol)

¡Cómo mola! ¡Eres un tipo muy molón! ¡Yo soy Fridavid!

"This rules! You're a really cool guy! I'm Fridavid!" (this seems to be mixing Frida + David into one name. gender icon)

¡Konnichi miau! ¡Yo ser Miaumoto!

"Konnichimeow! I be Meowmoto!" (Meow + Miyamoto, in broken Spanish)

¡Cómo mola! A mí me llaman Amalia. ¡A que mi pelambre es elegante!

"This rules! They call me Amalia. Isn't my fur divine?" (come onn, Amiaulia??)

¡Yo soy Marco! ¡Qué diver!

"I'm Marco! This is a lot of fun!" ("diver" in this case being a shortening of the Spanish for fun, "divertido")

¡Qué divergoromiau! ¡Llámame Goromiau! ¡Este goropueblo me gusta, goro! Perdona, es que mi amo era un Goron...

"I'm having so meowch gorofun! Call me Goromeow! I like this gorovillage, goro! Sorry, my owner was a Goron..."

¡Qué bien me lo estoy pasando!

"I'm having the time of my life!" (One of the few kitties without a name!)

¡Qué divermiau! ¡Soy Danifú!

"This is so meowch fun! I'm Danifú!" (Daniel + -ifú i think)

¡Yo me llamo Luisifú! ¡Qué guay!

"My name's Luisifú! This is so cool!" (Luis + -ifú)

¡Qué diver! ¡Yo soy Mariau!

"How fun! I'm Mareow!" (Maria + meow)

¡Qué diver! ¡Me caes muy bien! ¡Soy Miaunuel!

"How fun! I like you a lot! I'm Meownuel!" (Meow + Manuel)

¡Qué bien me lo estoy pasando!

"I'm having the time of my life!" (yep, a repeat. shocking. yes it is a different cat)

¡Qué guay! ¡Soy Carlos!

"This is so cool! I'm Carlos!"

¡Cómo mola! ¡Soy Enriquito!

"This rules! I'm Enriquito!" (Enrique + -ito making it Tiny Enrique, with Enrique being the spanish equivalent of Henry. lil Henry)

¡Qué guay! ¡Mi nombre me gusta mucho, soy Margamiau!

"This is so cool! I like my name a lot, I'm Margameow!" (Margarita/Margaret+ meow)

¡Qué chachipiruli! Esa espada... ¡No queda sino batirnos! ¡Es brooooma! ¡Me llamo Diego!

"This is the best thing ever! That sword... Our only option is to fight! I'm jooooking! My name's Diego!"

(Chachi is slang for Cool, pirulí is one of many words for candy. so basically the best of the best, or the bee's knees, etc)

¡Cómo mola! ¡Gracias por tu tiempo! ¡Llámame Miauigi!

"This rules! Thanks for spending time playing with us! Call me Meowigi!" (Meow + Luigi. that one Mario cat's brother probably!)

whew, that's all of them! had to shove two per image because of tumblr mobiles image limit lol. but now you can share the joy of twilight kitties :3 they aren't Game Changing but they made this one of my favorite places to play in when i was a kid

#twilight princess #legend of zelda #localization #tortilla posts #tortilla rambles #long post #hidden village

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barcaatthemoon · 8 months ago

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changes || mapi leon x reader ||

the natural changes in your relationship with mapi.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

mapi could tell that something was up. the locker room was a weird mix of tense and seemingly excited. there were rumors of new signees, but mapi hadn't had time to look at them. however, when she arrived at her locker to see a jersey sitting next to it with your last name on it, she realized what was going on.

"are you fucking kidding me?" mapi turned to alexia, as if the woman had personally sought you out to sign. alexia tried to ignore mapi, but the brunette's glare was too much to ignore. "her?"

"she's good, and we could use the extra help on the field with jenni leaving," alexia reasoned. mapi huffed as she hurriedly changed into her kit to get out onto the field. the less time that she had to see you, the better. if mapi was ever to have an enemy, it would have been you.

she knew that there wasn't really a good reason for the two of you to hate each other, but it had been that way for years. whether it be through playing internationally or in your clubs, you and mapi had always clashed on the field together. she knew that alexia was hoping that things would be different with the two of you on the same team, but mapi knew better.

"what is the deal with her?" ona asked as she glanced over to where mapi was glaring at you. everybody knew about you, but they didn't really know you personally. this was a brand new club to you, and you were going to keep your distance because surely these girls were all already mapi's friends.

you didn't understand the rivalry between the two of you. it had started back in international youth teams, and spiraled since then. emotions had run high for you back then, and in the year since, you had mellowed out a bit. many girls who you had once played against were now your friends, with the exception of maria.

maria seemed to hold onto the resentment from your youth. for you, it all stemmed in a single game. it was your chance to show how good you really were, and mapi had shut every single one of your attempts down. you knew how that it was just her having you marked, and that it wasn't personal, but back then it felt personal.

"go away ona, i don't want to talk about it," mapi practically growled. she was much closer to snapping with you around, and it was something that ona realized they'd all have to get used to. ona just hoped that it wasn't going to be a permanent change in attitude.

…

"fuck, come on!" you shouted as you rubbed your thigh. you thought that you were alone in the training room, so when you heard footsteps, you jumped. you looked around the room, surprised to see mapi limping around with an ice pack on her knee. "oh, it's you."

"don't sound too happy," mapi muttered. your face fell, unsure of why she was still being so mean to you. the two of you barely ever interacted during practice, but today had been put on the same team for the 5-v-5. mapi had played things a little high for a couple of the drills, which meant she had gotten you some great passes. if it wasn't for the bad blood between the two of you, there would be a lot of potential for a team up.

"what's wrong with your knee?" you can't help but ask. it's not that difficult to tell yourself that it's just because you're teammates. there was no way that you cared about mapi outside of the pitch. it wasn't like you had been catching yourself thinking of her randomly throughout the day or anything.

"pina, she jumped on my back and my knee buckled. it's no big deal. what's wrong with you?" mapi didn't hide the concern in her voice. you had hobbled away early during practice, and mapi knew you better than to think it was just to get out of drills. they had been ready to start your favorite one of practice when you left.

"it's an old injury that acts up sometimes. i'm good though, barcelona didn't waste their money signing me," you reassured her. mapi's face fell, wondering if that was how you thought she felt about you. truthfully, she hadn't been happy to learn that you came all the way here, but she respected you as a player. mapi knew firsthand how good you were, more often than not having been a thorn in her side when the opportunity arose.

"do you need ice or something?" mapi asked. you shook your head. icing your leg hadn't helped it at all. the tapes would help for a bit, but you needed something more. mapi tilted her head as she watched you try to rub your discomfort out. it was risky, but she stood up and stood in front of you.

"what are you doing?" you asked as you watched mapi move your hand away. hers replaced yours, working through the knots much better than you had been able to. "mapi-,"

"don't mention it, please," mapi said quietly. you nodded and closed your eyes as you leaned back against the bench. mapi was grateful for your eyes being squeezed shut because it allowed for her eyes to roam over your body. things seemed to be just fine between the two of you until her fingers pressed a little higher up than she meant to, pulling a very breathy sigh from your lips. "lo siento."

"don't mention it," you told her. mapi noticed the way that your voice shook like you were barely holding it together. it wasn't the first time that you had crossed her mind, but it definitely was the first time that she had ever really thought about putting her hands on you like this.

…

there's a definite shift in your relationship with mapi over the next couple of weeks. the two of you aren't exactly clambering to spend time together outside of training, but everybody could tell that something had changed. you opened up more to your teammates, no longer afraid that they'd all follow maria's lead and decide to hate you.

"hola maria," you greeted happily as you sat down across from the woman. she furrowed her brows as she looked at you, a slight pout on her lips. "it's rude not to say it back."

"don't call me maria, it makes me feel like i'm in trouble," she said.

"that's your name though," you said. she got up and stood in front of you, encroaching on your personal space. "what am i supposed to call you then?"

"mapi." she grabbed onto your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there had been a weird bit of tension building up between the two of you that everybody was waiting to come to head. alexia seemed to watch the two of you with a particular closeness, occasionally with a look of disbelief on her face.

"fine. hola, mapi," you corrected. mapi smiled down at you, leaning in almost close enough to kiss you.

"hola, (y/n). are you coming out tonight? the girls want to go dancing." the invitation had been extended to you in the parking lot, but you hadn't accepted it just yet. you knew that tomorrow was a recovery day, but you also knew that meant twice the amount of drinks as normal. the spanish girls could handle their liqour a lot better than you could, having spent most of your adult life not drinking much.

"promise to keep an eye on me and make sure i don't drink too much?" you asked her. mapi nodded, smiling as she let go of your head. the two of you paired up for some of the drills during practice, something that had become fairly normal. after practice, mapi walked you out to your car, promising to pick you up whenever it was time to go out.

…

the club was absolutely packed, and you hated it. somehow, the entire team had been talked into going, which meant you knew a good amount of the people there, but it was still far too crowded for your liking. that was why you had sat down in a booth across from alexia and refused to move no matter what.

"are the two of you having fun?" you and alexia both glanced over to jenni, who looked disappointed. mapi and leila were right next to her, both of them looking at the two of you expectantly. "come on, it won't kill you to dance with us."

"it might, you don't know that it won't," alexia shot back quickly. you smirked as you watched jenni's face harden a bit. there wasn't a doubt in your mind that alexia would be in for it whenever they got home. jenni didn't like to brag about the things that she got up to with alexia in their bedroom, but the two of you had a habit of chatting in the gym.

"well, if you die, i'll just give you cpr," jenni said as she tugged alexia out of her seat. leila followed the two of them, trailing close behind jenni. that left you and mapi to stand there and stare at each other.

"come on, if ale can get up, so can you," mapi said. she was much more gentle in getting you onto your feet. she also seemed to be content to wait until a slower song started to get you out there.

you didn't fight with mapi as the two of you swayed to the beat of the music. her hands fell onto your hips as she pressed herself up against you. you welcomed the warmth of her body, not having realized how long it had been since someone touched you like this. your mind quickly went elsewhere, but when you felt the press of mapi's lips against the side of your neck, you realized that maybe she wanted this too.

"kiss me," you said as you turned around. you knew that mapi couldn't hear you, but she could read your lips well enough to know what you wanted. and even if she couldn't, you weren't being subtle at all. your eyes hadn't left her lips, not until she was leaning in. excitedly, you surged forward and closed the gap between the two of you.

mapi's lips were soft, a contrast to the way that her teeth nipped at your lip. you let out a little yelp, one that had mapi laughing as she held you in her arms. you swallowed as you looked at her before nodding towards the door. she nodded, and the two of you left the club wordlessly.

"my place or yours?" you asked mapi. she got into the passenger's seat of her own car, having given you her keys after her second drink. you were pretty sure that she hadn't drank much more after that, but in your mind, it was always better safe than sorry.

"yours. i have never been there before," mapi answered. you started her car, jumping a little as the engine roared to life. mapi laughed at that, placing her hand on your thigh to calm you down a bit. she knew that her car could be a bit much for someone driving it for the first time, but she trusted you. you had proven yourself to be one of the very responsible members of the team, especially tonight when everybody else had chosen to get nearly blackout drunk with a few expections.

mapi seemed surprised to see where your apartment was. you had truly gotten a good location, extremely close to the training grounds and nearby several restaurants and stores. mapi was a bit jealous, even if she did like her apartment. it was close by alexia and jenni's, so she could always go annoy them whenever she felt like it.

"it's a bit messy. i had a hard time finding something to wear tonight," you warned her. mapi didn't seem to care. her eyes dropped down to your outfit, appreciatively checking you out once again. it had been hard to keep her eyes off of you earlier in the night, and she was beyond relieved whenever you hadn't pushed her away on the dance floor.

"with how good you look, we'll be lucky to make it to your bedroom," mapi told you. you clenched your thighs together as you unlocked your door. once the two of you were inside, mapi pulled you in for another kiss. this one was firm without being rough. mapi established her control very early on, but you had expected as much.

you kicked your heels off before jumping up into mapi's arms. she carried you down the little hallway, stopping momentarily to press you against the wall to kiss you a little harder. you moaned into that kiss, grinding your hips against her just a little. mapi could already feel the heat coming off of your core, and she realized that she couldn't wait to have you.

"bedroom?" mapi asked. you pointed at the door at the end of the hallway. mapi pulled you away from the wall and walked you right over there. she set you down just long enough to let you move the dresses and clothes scattered about on your bed. you turned around to see her half-naked in front of you. "like what you see?"

"fuck yes," you breathed out. mapi smirked as she moved towards you. your hands immediately flew down to touch her stomach, fingers running along the taunt and toned muscle of her abdomen. mapi's head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, breathing heavily as your hands moved along her body.

"touch me." mapi guided your hands down between her legs. you were surprised, having assumed that she wouldn't have let you in so quickly. you had heard the way mapi talked about having sex with the girls she had picked up before, and it had all sounded very one-sided. although, you supposed that her letting you touch you like this was even more exciting because you did't expect it.

your fingers were met with skin made slick from arousal. mapi was panting in your ear as your fingers teasingly stroked between her lips. mapi bucked her hips forward as your fingers approached her clit. mapi's hands grabbed onto your shoulders for support as she tilted her hips just enough for your fingers to wind up at her entrance.

"one at a time," mapi told you. she sounded desperate, so you let one of your fingers slip inside of her. mapi hiked her leg up as she bucked her hips to try and ride your finger. you quickly lifted her with your other arm, pulling both of you back onto the mattress.

mapi stayed on top of you, riding your finger as you tried to comfortably adjust yourself beneath her. you could tell whenever the one finger wasn't quite enough for mapi, and slowly added a second. once again, you were patient as mapi set the pace that she wanted. you matched her thrust for thrust, not daring to go faster than what she was.

"please, i need more. i'm so close," mapi begged you. she was a lot more prone to whining than you had originally thought, but it didn't bother you one bit. you liked the vulnerability that mapi was willing to show to you, especially considering how volatile your relationship had been in the beginning.

"do you want another finger?" you asked. mapi shook her head, and suddenly, you realized what she needed. you dropped your other hand from her hip down between her legs, allowing for your fingers to brush against her clit. you felt a surge of wetness along with the first spasm of her cunt around your fingers. the next few came in controlled little waves, matching the rhythm set by the fingers against her clit. there was only so long that she could hold off on cumming, and once she had let you, you felt her body tense up around you.

mapi lifted herself off of your fingers before settling down in between your legs. she placed her hands on your waist and bunched them around your dress. you lifted your hips up off of the bed, allowing for the bottom of your dress to move up around your waist. mapi licked her lips as she looked straight ahead to be met with the sight of your definitely ruined underwear.

"i can't wait to taste you," mapi said as she leaned in. your breath hitched as you felt hers ghost across the insides of your thighs. it wasn't fair to see her so composed immediately after an orgasm. you felt like a wreck, turned on and no longer distracted with something interesting to focus on. you were left to lay there and think about how uncomfortable the now-sticky fabric of your underwear felt.

"please hurry," you whined. mapi hooked her fingers around your underwear and pulled them down slowly. she gave a quick teasing little lick between your lips, moaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"so sweet, i could spend all night licking up every drop." the thickness of mapi's accent made you want to clench your thighs, but her hands kept them apart. she kept you spread open as she took her time to admire you. it was touching her that had gotten you so worked up, and once the two of you were finished, mapi planned on being insufferable about it.

"just please, i want to cum so badly." you looked at mapi with a pout. she bit her lip as she pushed her finger against your entrance. "two, not just one. i need to be fucked, mapi, fucked."

she gave you a quick nod and pushed another finger inside of you without hesitation. her fingers moved at a quick pace, nearly fucking the breath out of you. you threaded your fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, directing her so that her mouth was on your clit. mapi didn't need instruction past that.

her tongue worked magic on your clit, moving with fluidity and precision. your hips were bucking wildly as you ground yourself against mapi's face. she let you push yourself closer and closer towards an orgasm until you were on the edge of it. that was when she wrapped both of her arms around your hips, keeping you still so that she could truly control when you came.

you hadn't meant to scream her name out at the top of your lungs, but it had still happened. mapi relished in the sound of it echoing off of your bedroom walls. your neighbors would be pissed, but you'd apologize later on, if you could even face them again. mapi liked the sound of her name spilling from your lips that she didn't stop there. you were physically pushing her off of your body to get her to give you a break, and even then, she was looking at you as she "patiently" waited for another turn.

"in the morning," you promised. mapi pouted as she settled in the bed next to you.

"that is so far away," mapi whined. you rolled your eyes at her as you pulled her in for a kiss. "just one more?"

"no, it's late, and i'd like to actually get some rest now. god, you're so needy, maria," you teased. mapi's brows furrowed as she stared at you, obviously not happy with the use of her full name.

"well, now you owe me one in the morning," mapi told you. you laughed it off, already having planned on having sex with her again in the morning. you knew that the two of you had opened up a can of worms, one that you'd be exploring for at least a couple more weeks. you hoped that it would blossom into more, but you didn't want to push mapi for anything too serious when you'd only recently become friends.

#minors do not interact #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon smut

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 9 months ago

Text

Mistakes

Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)

Wordcount: 6.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood

A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao

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It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.

People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on.

Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely.

The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy.

But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name.

If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy.

It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life.

Tommy, Joel and you grew up together.

When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water.

The little shit.

Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief.

And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you.

It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point.

You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl.

God, you had been so heartbroken back then.

He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot.

It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again.

Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend.

You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father.

He had been scared but so happy.

And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own.

Sarah was his whole world.

Until the world ended.

The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again.

Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.

Until he left without a word.

Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces.

“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off.

He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller.

Joel had found him.

His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief.

For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?

You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving.

You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again.

“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind.

You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry.

Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously.

The nerve he had.

Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father.

You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it.

You could only imagine what he had told her.

He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make.

You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode.

Of course life had other plans.

You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel.

“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.

“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.

“So then you understand my concern.”

“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him.

“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?”

You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair.

“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you.

“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow.

“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down.

“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath.

“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said.

You scoffed.

“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”

“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.

“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you.

“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed.

“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”

“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots.

“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled.

“I know the feelin’,” he sighed.

You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

You felt his lips on your temple.

„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head.

„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled.

„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.

You both sat there in silence for a moment.

„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him.

„What do you mean?“

He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes.

„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly.

You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.

„What kinda dreams?“

„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking.

„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks.

„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.

„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position.

„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder.

„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head.

„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled.

He said your name, pleading but you shook your head.

„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away.

You took a deep breath.

„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him.

„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down.

You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you.

You just walked faster, not bothering to stop.

„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much.

„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him.

„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house.

You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open.

You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road.

She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by.

You were broken, you had been for a long time.

The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel.

He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you.

He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left.

He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.

He was always there.

And along the way you fell in love with him.

You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you.

It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips.

„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you.

When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.

„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down.

„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head.

„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“

„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath.

Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours.

„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded.

„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.

He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you.

Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants.

He stopped you before you could get any further.

„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead.

„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours.

Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs.

His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching.

„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.

He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.

„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you.

No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply.

He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him.

He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach.

He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep.

While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him.

You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise.

You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag.

You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.

You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.

Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in.

The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside.

Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon.

„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty.

A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel.

Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in.

Empty.

Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake.

Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you.

Tears were springing into your eyes.

He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?

Not after he….

A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words.

„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered.

Tommy only nodded.

Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly.

„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“

You scoffed.

„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.

He said your name, almost pleading.

„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“

You wanted to tell him then.

To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were.

Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you.

And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet.

It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him.

„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said.

„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him.

„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff.

An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened.

„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked.

„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you.

As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.

„I know you love him,“ he startled you.

„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you.

„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson.

The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it.

You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them.

It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.

You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse.

You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you.

You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob.

It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.

And he was not awake.

„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit.

Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you.

„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“

You were closer to the university than you thought then.

You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.

Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound.

He didn’t even stir.

„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“

„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes.

„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could.

She mirrored you.

„Can I help?“ Ellie asked.

„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.

„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs.

You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in.

„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open.

It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.

But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here.

You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it.

It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips.

You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up.

It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop.

Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them.

A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.

„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek.

„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly.

„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.

„Ellie?“ He asked.

„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly.

„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head.

„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head.

„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted.

„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin.

The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes.

„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.

„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage.

The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door.

You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house.

You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body.

„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping.

They were looking for Joel.

For Joel and Ellie.

You had to get out of here.

You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.

Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.

The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived.

Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room.

„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“

„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded.

„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot.

You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected.

„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.

It was a four day ride back to Jackson.

Four days that felt like four weeks.

Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.

You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse.

On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder.

It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel.

More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it.

When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight.

But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out.

The next hours were a blur.

You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in, your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room.

Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating.

You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes.

Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you.

„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer.

„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you.

„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man.

„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin.

„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.

„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.

„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.

„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh.

„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room.

It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy.

Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.

„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers.

For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.

„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in.

„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded.

„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed.

„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered.

„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded.

„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again.

„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left.

„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you.

„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath.

„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained.

„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered.

„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked.

„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek.

He looked wrecked.

„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair.

You shrugged.

„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow.

„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again.

„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile.

„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you.

You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent.

„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep.

„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead.

Six weeks later

„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.

„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle.

„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder.

„Why do I have to learn it then?“

„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing.

„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake.

„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat.

„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her.

„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck.

„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck.

One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast.

„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck.

„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter.

„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass.

„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled.

„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Tommy Miller x fem. reader #Tommy Miller #Pedro Pascal #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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millerscoffee · 1 year ago

Note

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?" You roll into the dining hall in a huff. Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?" Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door. His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way. Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you. Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town. It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back. No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ." He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort. Conversation over.

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table. The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain. Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know." Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me. Listen, this is a family dinner. Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less. Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel. So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs. You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry." It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example. Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction. You sound meek, scared to say something wrong. A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment. Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast. Now." Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer. A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others. Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much. You consider it a win. Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner. The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey? It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you. You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk. Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol. Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon. Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer. "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate. You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria. He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that. The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off. You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard. Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly. "Yea, he was drunk this morning. Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale. "Shit. We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything. It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them. That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest. You don't think about his experiences that often. But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that. You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out," you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out. You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them. They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up. And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared. They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's? Please?" Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was. It seemed to do the trick, though. Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something. The look is inculpatory without you doing anything. As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you. "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria. She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you. "What'd I miss?" You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel? Not so much. His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him. You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening. Or at least trying. It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other. More arguing than speaking. And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions." Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction. It makes you scared and delighted at once. Like he was back to normal. Your normal.

"I was listening to her?" You retort, and everyone's quiet now. Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out. "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–" "Hey, now." Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad. Reflective. Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age. People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in. You truly felt alone. Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room. Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult. It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around. Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas. Cotton shorts and a loose tee. Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric. A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep. Needing release. Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down. It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different. You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts. You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact. What that would sound like against your ear. Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt. A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from. The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass. One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace. He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny. A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was. Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used. Of... making him proud.

"What?" His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside. The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you. You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly. It locks you in place.

"You came here. Why? Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position. You can't think, you can't nod or say words. You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans. "How about now. You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?" His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment. Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid. Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour. You can't think of a thing to say. Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts. Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him. Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right. You answer to me." The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance. He doesn't own you, he never fucking could. The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose. "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes. Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl. You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think. Meaningless, even. What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house. You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie. It's dark, a single lamp upstairs. All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin. It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close. His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me. Don't say sorry when I know you're not." His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface. Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit. "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use. I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?" The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees. Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away. Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants. You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light. You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock. "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?" The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise. And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age. You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him. After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further. "Fuck. You hear that? Nothing! Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it? Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it. Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want. The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place. His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was. You wanted to scream, kick him. Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day. A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips. And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock. Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit. It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely. Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way. Your gone expression. All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth. You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard. "Nuh uh. You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl. Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it. Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound. Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself. He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee. Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass. "But somebody better teach you better manners. Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth. You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else. "Lucky I ain't making y'count. You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway. He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms. Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him. "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished. I talked so bad about you, and you liked it? You’re as desperate as I thought. Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.” And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view. Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again. His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs. Right where he wants you. Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds. He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder. Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done. It’s over. All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him. It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough. “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring. He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him. You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with. And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds. The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft. He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down. “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her. You want that, kitten? Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?” his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is. “Put a baby right here. Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought. It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before. Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this? Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you. How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples. When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise. You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge. So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you. Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard. His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body. “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate. Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin. “No, no, please. Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you. Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you. And he likes what he sees. Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you. Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing. “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age. But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment. It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming. To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please. Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it. Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder. Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place. “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now. Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure. You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s. You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it. He had it. He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily. “Please, daddy. Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya. Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice. Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you. Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it. He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full. “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt. All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat. It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides. It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,” Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him. Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging. “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl? Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.” Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him. “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise. As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix. “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you. You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does. The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you. His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls. Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you. It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture. Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this. His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit. You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock. You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it. Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still. You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him. Did he say you could do that? As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck. Without his permission. You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips. He looks so menacing like this, scary. You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you. You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you. Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect. A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do. He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react. He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is. As unwilling to give away freedom. Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it. Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much. When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts. You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you. You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it. His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing. He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure. “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it. “Please, pl– it’s too much! Daddy!” That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone. Again and again. As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely. His cock, his finger. His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock. How did he get hard again?! He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something. A release, a grind. You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?” He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel. “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod. “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk. “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are. “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did. Belong to me now, you understand? Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words. You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?” You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear. Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole. He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

#bee's requests #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #dom!joel #brat tamer!joel #brattamer!joel #bratty reader #bratty f!reader

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pearlessance · 2 months ago

Text

Lust Among Thieves [part two]

[part one]

Summary: Fifteen years after escaping your captors, leaving them and the cabin in the woods behind, you end up in a community named Jackson and find yourself repeating the same old habits. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, angst galore, mild infidelity (Tommy is with Maria but he and reader share one [1] kiss), canon typical violence, mention of kidnapping, mention of blood, angssssttt but with a happy ending (reader ends up with one brother!!!) NOTE: this is a cowrite i've done with my BFF joelmillersgirlfriend!! make sure to go and read her other stuff on A03! thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on this one, I'm glad you guys are liking it! let us know what you think about the ending <3 [MASTERLIST]

The sun is so warm that it’s beginning to melt the snow, turning it from soft and fluffy to a wet sort of slush. A comforting relief, because the winter holds memories you’re better off leaving behind. Memories of scowls and whittling knives, of the taste of whiskey and lighthearted laughter.

After fifteen years, you thought you’d grow out of the feeling, that you’d grieve the loss and go on instead to appreciate the recovery of your autonomy. But every winter, without fail, you remember your time in that cabin. You remember them.

You’d never grown out of the feeling and you’d never grown into the now tattered canvas coat. If you closed your eyes and imagined the burn of the winter snow grazing your skin, you could remember how Joel smelled. You could remember how Tommy’s lips tasted.

But years had passed. The memory was now a faint one and one that you tried not to dwell on for too long. You have met a lot of people over the years and had dangerous encounters daily. Why was this one different?

Joel and Tommy had turned you into a new person within the four walls of that cabin. You weren’t the same afterward, now you were sculpted into a being with a sharp tongue and a toughed exterior yet… the core of you was soft. If you dug deep enough, the creature that Joel and Tommy had created was still inside of you, tender and vulnerable.

For a while, you considered what you would do if you ever encountered them again. You were so far away from the outskirts of the Boston QZ, the death of your father and the weight of the situation turning into a calloused scar instead of a leaking wound over time. Over the past fifteen years, you had made your way across the country, searching for something. Whatever that something was, you weren’t sure of yet.

If you saw the brothers, would you be angry? Would they? They were heavy on your mind that morning as you made your way through the abandoned, ice-covered streets of Jackson Hole Wyoming.

You had left a compound back in Nebraska weeks ago. The people there weren’t bad, but it felt like another washed-down version of living under FEDRA. Constant patrolling, ridiculous rules. It was no surprise that you felt trapped because you had always felt trapped. It was only a matter of time before you ran away. It was the only thing that you were good at.

You jumped from house to house in Wyoming, occasionally spending a couple of days if you were tired of the constant headache of moving every day. Most of your days consisted of you laying on an old, lifeless mattress, staring up at the ceiling and asking yourself ‘What if I never left?’ Would you have more of a purpose now? Would you not be alone?

You practiced your regular routine of bouncing through dilapidated houses, grabbing what supplies were still left, which was practically nothing. For an area where you had encountered absolutely no one, the houses were surprisingly scarce.

It was getting late in the evening, and you had picked a house to settle down in for the night. The house had a rough exterior, similar to yours, but the inside was surprisingly still in good condition. You crept through the house, picking through each drawer and cabinet to once again, find nothing.

Truly, the master bedroom should have been an indicator to leave, but you were always a sucker for taking things that did not belong to you.

Just when you were about to call searching the house quits and crack open a book from your bag, you noticed a shifted floorboard in the bedroom. You hummed to yourself in curiosity, reaching down to investigate the suspicious piece of wood. It came out of the floor easily, revealing the contents buried inside.

Ammo, water, packaged food, medicine.

But most importantly, a bottle of Jack. Jesus, how long had it been since you had seen one of these? You laughed to yourself when you pulled it out of its hiding spot, half empty but still the perfect amount for a lone wanderer.

You grabbed your pack, slipping all of the things you had found into it before you heard the voices.

Fuck.

Moving swiftly, you grabbed everything you could before glancing around the bedroom. Footsteps and conversations were coming up the stairs, and you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for not checking the perimeter of the neighborhood before poking through the houses.

“Jesse, go get the stuff from the master. Maria is gonna be pissed that we weren’t able to find more. Might as well bring back what we can,” you vaguely heard a gruff voice say.

Into the closet you went, quietly tiptoeing across the room. Your hands were shaking as you grasped the straps of your bag, praying that luck would be on your side, just this once.

The second you faded into the darkness of the shadows in the closet, a man stepped into the bedroom. You could see him through the panels of the closet door, especially if you squinted in just the right way.

He appeared young, with long dark hair that fell into his eyes when he glanced around the room. You held your breath when his sharp, determined eyes shifted to look over at the closet momentarily. It didn’t last long, which you were grateful for. You could feel your pulse ticking in your neck as he moved away to check the floorboards, knowing that he wasn’t going to be pleased with what he found.

He was turned away from you so you couldn’t physically gauge his reaction, but his voice told you all you needed to know.

“Uh, we have a problem here. Stuff’s gone!” he shouted, standing back up quickly to unholster his gun. He glanced around the room once more, waiting for his partner to shout something back.

The voice was distant when it spoke, most likely still downstairs, waiting. “What do you mean, gone?”

The man who was only a few meters from you sighed, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s gone, someone must’ve taken it!”

You could hear heavy footsteps, every movement clearly laced with annoyance as he climbed the stairs. And then they stop a short distance away, and you hear the familiar click of his gun.

In the holster strapped around your thigh sits your pistol. You have only two bullets—enough to kill a clicker in a pinch, but not enough to fend off two grown men who are also armed. You tighten your fingers around the handle of the old knife, leather now cracked with age, formed perfectly to the hills and valleys of your fingers.

Heart hammering, you know and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take your chances and run. You could already see the shadow of the man entering the room, grumbling at having to come up the stairs. His back was to the closet, approaching his partner.

“It was here two days ago,” he began before quickly stopping. His hand reached out, gesturing towards the ground. Your eyes squinted, following the gesture down until you saw what he found. Wet footprints.

You lunged out of the closet before anyone could even move, and latched onto the man's back like a starfish. You looked at the first man, Jesse, before pressing your knife against the second man's throat.

“Just let me leave. Let me leave and I won’t kill him,” you said coldly, the tip of the blade pushing into your prisoner.

Jesse’s eyes widened, his hands spread in an attempt to calm you. “Hey, wait a second. We’re not looking for a fight. It doesn’t have to be like this,” he spoke, loosely holding his gun in his hand. You glanced at it with hesitation, which was enough time for your prisoner to grab your wrist and whip you around.

He was much larger than you, probably almost three times your size. There was no way in hell you would’ve been able to keep him restrained for long.

You whimpered in pain at the feeling of your wrist being twisted, the knife dropping out of your hand and clattering to the ground below.

“Stupid girl,” the man said, turning slowly to face you. There’s something about the way the words sound in his mouth that twists up your insides, a timbre that makes your hands tremble and shake. “Shouldn’t make threats when you’re outnum—” He stops.

And your heart does, too. “Joel?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just narrows his eyes and clenches his teeth, jaw feathering. His hair has gone a little gray and there are defined wrinkles around his mouth and a scar across his nose that didn’t exist the last time you’d seen him, but you’re sure of it. As sure as you are of the ground beneath your feet, you’re sure that a ghost stands before you.

His eyes soften as the realization hits. You know you’ve aged, too—though perhaps not as drastically.

Jesse is the one who speaks. “Do you know each other or something?”

“Yes,” Joel says, in perfect time as you answer, “No.”

“O…kay.” Jesse shifts uncomfortably on his feet before he closes the space between himself and the place you and Joel stand in what seems to be an eternal face-off. He plucks your knife up from the ground and hands it to you, hilt first. “Here. We don’t want any trouble.”

The shine of the blade catches Joel’s eye, and he scoffs as he processes what he sees. He takes the knife from Jesse’s hand before you get a chance to do so. He raises it in front of his face, no doubt inspecting the two letters etched into the metal.

“T.M? Tommy?” Jesse’s brows furrow as he turns his attention to you. “Is this Tommy’s knife?”

Neither of you answer him. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and sweat beads your hairline. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and every cell in your body urges you to run as far and as fast as you can.

“Joel,” Jesse says, voice a little more firm.

“Just let me go,” you plead, staring Joel in the eye, trying to hide your fear. Not of him, but of the feeling that rises in you upon seeing him. The yearning, the desire, the familiarity. You’d convinced yourself it’d be gone by now, eviscerated. But feeling the warmth of his skin, smelling the pine scent of him—it all comes flooding back with a vengeance. “Please. Just give me the knife and I’ll walk away and we can pretend—”

“She’s coming back with us,” he tells Jesse. “Feed her. Get her some new clothes. If she wants to stay, there’s that empty house over by the cemetery. Fixed it up last week.”

“Stay? Where?”

“A town,” Jesse answers. He smiles at you and it’s warm and inviting, something you haven’t seen in some time. “A community.”

Your stomach growls at the thought of a decent meal, but your fear has you shaking your head. “No, I can’t. I’m—”

“You what?” Joel’s voice cuts through you. “Don’t got anywhere else to go. God knows how long it’s been since you last ate.”

You want to protest, to argue with him, to prove him wrong. But you can’t, because he’s right, and that fact enrages you more than anything else.

Still, you agree. One night, you tell yourself. A good meal and a good night’s sleep and then you’d leave, never to be seen again.

Jesse helped you onto the back of his horse, leading the way back to the settlement while Joel followed. Every time you glanced back, unable to prevent yourself from looking at Joel, you saw his icy gaze watching your own. You swallowed nervously, pulling back into Jesse. You wondered what Joel was thinking. If he remember everything, if it meant anything to him.

Jackson was huge. There was food and people and walls. It wasn’t like the QZ. People lived like a family, working together for the better of humanity. It brought tears to your eyes to see.

You felt overwhelmed as you trailed through the streets of Jackson, still mounted upon Jesse’s horse. Random strangers on the street greeted Joel as he led the way like he was some sort of beloved member of the community. All you could do was force a smile and nod during the random greetings, wondering if they knew who Joel really was.

“That jacket looks real familiar,” Joel spoke, gesturing at the worn coat swallowing your shoulders. It was large and had outlived its life, but you couldn’t let it go. It had been with you during some of the coldest winters, keeping you warm.

“Looks a lot like the one my daddy gave me before he passed. I went crazy, thinkin’ I misplaced it. All this time, it was just you stealin’ shit that don’t belong to you,” Joel scoffed, but without malice. You stuttered, closing it around your body to cover your chest, a habit stemming from pure nerves.

It had been your jacket for years, your only source of comfort during cruel winters. It belonged to you just as much as it belonged to him. You were the one who had taken care of it all of the time.

Joel chuckled at your reaction, grinning down at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask for it back. I’m happy that you’ve gotten some use outta it.”

It was bewildering, how one sentence he spoke could come across filled with resentment, with ire, and the next be filled with something that felt sort of like relief.

But even back then, even fifteen years ago, you’d never been able to quite understand him. And though his anger was a kindred spirit to yours, Joel was so confusing.

Once in the stables, Jesse helps you dismount. Before you even swing your leg over the horse, Joel’s handing his reins off to the stable hand and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

Jesse sees your attention follow him, no doubt reading the expression of confusion on your face. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “Joel can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”

You think that might be the understatement of the decade, but you keep that to yourself.

“C’mon. Let’s go meet Maria to see where we should place you for housing and then I’ll let you get settled in.”

As Jesse leads you through the streets of Jackson, you can’t help but feel a bit of shock at the way things operate here. There are so many people you can’t keep their faces straight. Children of all ages, people your age, and��elders. A rare occurrence these days.

There’s electricity powering lights strewn between the buildings. A carpenter and a grocer and a bar. It feels like something out of a dream.

Jesse leads you into what looks like a cafeteria. There are a handful of tables with hundreds of mismatched chairs around them, and a low chatter that greets you the moment you step through the doors.

You notice him in a second.

Tommy’s laughing. His hair has grown out long enough that he can tuck the dark blonde strands behind his ear now, curling just slightly at the ends.

He’s got a couple more freckles and wrinkles around his soft eyes. And seeing Joel was jarring, but it’s Tommy and his boisterous laughter and that wide grin on his face that makes your chest crack wide open.

You love him, and you’ve always known it. You love them both, but it’s the loss of Tommy’s warmth you’ve felt the deepest since escaping from that cabin. It’s taken you a long time to accept it, but you have—and seeing him brought back a burning feeling that you thought was long gone.

Tommy notices Jesse, waving at him wildly, looking past you as if you were transparent. He didn’t recognize you yet, which wasn’t surprising. You were standing a handful of meters away, and from what it appeared, you seemed to be a ghost from a past life. One that he never anticipated seeing again, with how settled down he appeared to be now.

“Jesse! You have to hear this shit, man! Get over here,” Tommy gestured, a shit-eating smile still filling his face. You noticed the way Jesse looked at you first, evaluating your reaction, which was little to none. You’d grown good at hiding your emotions over the years, a calloused exterior being your own personal form of protection. A shell.

Your brain felt like it was pounding against the walls of your skull when you followed Jesse over to Tommy’s table. You kept your eyes glued down at your feet and prayed, that maybe, he wouldn’t notice you. But, of course…

“Hey, Tommy. I think I found an old friend of yours,” Jesse starts off with, the bastard. Tommy’s soft eyes move over to you, staring blankly for a couple of beats. The noise from the cafeteria droned out as you looked into his eyes, locked on those deep irises that you had dreamt about for years.

The sound of Tommy’s metal chair scraping against the floor pulled you out of your haze. His arms wrapped around you, engulfing your frame - swallowing you in his own body. He was so warm and firm. You hadn’t touched another person for so long, not like this.

But you still were so uncertain. Your hands wavered, shaking nervously as you considered hugging him back. Things were so complicated, incredibly taboo, and filthy. You shouldn’t want to hug him back. You opt on loosely hugging his waist, too nervous to match the pressure of his embrace.

He pulls back, his large palms coming up to cradle the sides of your face. It reminded you of that night all those years ago when you first kissed him. You could still taste the bottle of Jack on his lips, warm and heavy against your tongue.

Tommy was contemplating kissing you, you had seen the look before. It was all too familiar.

His eyes were heavy, but the look left almost as quickly as it had appeared. He awkwardly shifted back, pulling out of your incredibly loose embrace. Jesus, Tommy was just as conflicted with you. His remorse for what had happened was clear on his face, those heavy puppy dog eyes searching your face desperately, praying that you would forgive him. Forgive Joel.

It was all too much - your head was spinning and your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth. Tommy glanced over at the table he had jumped up from, directly at a woman who was sitting next to his seat. Her freckled face was etched with a frown, one that was full of confusion about the situation.

“Christ, you’re alive?” Tommy whispered, wavering away from you. His disbelief wasn’t one that you had expected, nor had Jesse. The young man was still standing beside you, watching the events unfold with wide eyes.

“I’m not really hungry, Jesse,” you turned and said, needing to get out of there immediately. Something was unraveling deep inside, what that something was, you didn’t know. Your palms felt slick with sweat, your legs unintentionally pulling you back, protecting you from the conversation.

“Please,” Tommy begged, “Let’s talk. Settle in, get used to everything, but don’t leave town without comin’ to talk. And for the love of God, eat .”

You nodded, backing away from Tommy like a scared puppy. The sound of your heart beating filled your brain as you turned and walked away, Jesse hot on your heels. You heard Tommy’s voice speak, “Maria, come on, we gotta go over some things.”

The air is cool against your heated skin, and you greedily swallow the icy air. You press your palm against your sternum, trying to will your heart to slow and your blood to settle in your veins.

“Hey,” Jesse says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you jump out of your skin.

When you turn to face him, you don’t even remember unsheathing your knife from the holster strapped to your belt. He has his hands held up in surrender, that friendly smile on his face, and guilt begins to trickle down your spine.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You lower the knife quickly, returning it to its rightful place at your hips. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, too. Uhm…instinct, I guess.”

“I get it,” he says, and for some reason, you believe him. There’s such understanding in his voice that it’s hard not to. “Jackson is a lot to adjust to. Doesn’t happen overnight.”

You nod slowly in response.

“There’s an empty house over by the cemetery. I can show you, and you can rest or look around or…you know, do whatever you need to. There’s hot water, you can shower, and some staples in the pantry if you feel like cooking. I can run to the community hall and get you some new clothes and drop them off if you want some space.”

The words sound foreign in your ears as if he’s speaking a different language. Cooking, showering, hot water …the thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow died and this is all some kind of strange hallucination.

But a moment along sounds like bliss, and a shower sounds like heaven, so you find yourself nodding and following him through the streets of Jackson. Jesse tries to make small talk, but you’re not in much of a talking mood and he seems to pick up on it and doesn’t press for much more information.

He tells you there are towels in the linen closet in the hall upstairs and promises to return in less than ten minutes with a basket of clean clothes. “I’ll set them just inside the door,” he said. ”Take what you want. If there’s anything that doesn’t fit, I’ll bring it back to the hall later.”

The house is nice, bigger than any of the places you’ve ever holed up in for a few days, and more secure, too. Upstairs there’s a massive bathroom and before you do anything else, you turn the handle to the hottest setting. The water spits and spudders and is freezing at first, but the second it begins to warm you’re stripping off your clothes and stepping beneath the stream.

And you’re not quite sure why, but the sensation of it brings moisture to your eyes, salty tears mixing with the warm spray from the showerhead. The water that pools at your feet is dark and grimy, ridding you of the dirt that clings to your skin.

You scrub your skin raw and still don’t feel clean enough. But when the water runs cold, you leave wet footprints on the wood flooring of the stairs and find that Jesse stayed true to his word.

Just inside the front door is a laundry basket full of clothes; denim and fleece, cotton t-shirts and undergarments, socks, and even a half-decent bra. You settle on jeans and a hoodie that’s just a little too big, but still hold tight to the old coat you’d stolen.

He also left a plate of food, which you assumed was from the cafeteria. Even though you didn’t think you could’ve eaten earlier, not after seeing Tommy, you were suddenly famished. The food was gone in under a minute. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had something fresh, rice, green beans, onions. It was life-altering.

There’s a big bed in the center of one of the bedrooms upstairs, and you tell yourself you’ll rest just for a few seconds. A few minutes. But the moment your head hits the pillow, you know it isn’t true and you don’t have the energy to convince yourself otherwise.

When you finally wake, the room is dark, and the rays from the rising moon are silhouetting the bedroom in a blue haze. You sigh, relaxing into the bed sheets. It was crazy to reflect on your current circumstances. Just a day ago, you were starving, sleeping on an old rotted mattress with a gun held tightly in your hand. Now, you could hear the laughter and shouts of children from the street outside your window.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you stood up, deciding to leave the house and explore. It would be beneficial to know where everything is, you think. If for nothing else than to know the best escape routes, to become familiar with the routine of the watchers on the walls.

You brush your teeth before heading out, the night air rushing against your face when you step onto the front porch. Even though it’s late in the evening, the streets are still filled with people; families walking back home together, couples holding hands. It almost feels unreal.

Walking past the cemetery, you notice some people crouched at the gravestones, crying. Even when you were somewhere safe, you could never escape the horrors of loss.

It felt like you were floating through the streets of Jackson, an outsider peering in. The closer you got to the center of town, the more people you stumbled upon. Icicle lights were strung across the powerlines and street before you, random strangers greeting you in passing.

You finally grew tired of the attention, the stares, the forced conversations. You ended up pulling up the hood of your jacket over your head, shielding yourself from gazing eyes.

A small church was planted near the center of town, and the doors cracked, allowing you to glance in. Though it wasn’t entirely full, many people filled the pews and watched the priest give his sermon. You could pick up a few words from where you were standing, but you didn’t really care to hear. You gave up on a religion a long time ago.

A couple of meters away was an open space that had a bonfire square in the middle, with a handful of picnic tables spread across the space. The hum of the people talking drew you in, despite not knowing anyone, or so you thought.

“Settlin’ in good?” you heard from behind you, the voice making you jump in surprise. You turned back to see Joel, his dark eyes watching you from a couple of feet away. Those dark eyes still made your palm sweat and your cheeks burn bright. He had always held something in him that made you docile.

You cleared your throat, subconsciously pulling at the strings of your hoodie. “It’s surreal here. Not like the QZ.”

Joel huffs, nodding in agreement. “Thank God it ain’t.“

There is an awkward pause where you stand shyly in front of Joel, uncertain of what to say next. Making small talk with him was never your forte, because typically he never even wanted to speak with you. Now, here he is, actively trying to pull a conversation out of you. He had changed.

“You’re not like how I remember,” you say, your lips moving quicker than your brain was able to think. Joel stiffened, rubbing the scruff of his beard.

“Yeah? And how do you remember me?”

It’s a test, one to see how you would describe your relationship with both him and Tommy. A mutual romantic bond? Or something much more sinister, much more taboo? You don’t fall for the trap because you aren’t even sure how you want to interpret everything. Not entirely.

“Quieter. Less gray hairs too,” you said, not expecting the warm sound of Joel’s laughter to hit your ears. He smiled down at you, the grin boyish and full of hidden memories. It made you ache for something you never even had.

“It’s been a long time. When you left…” Joel trailed off, his expression morphing into a dark cloud. You knew that leaving would hurt both of the brothers, and it felt shameful to admit that sometimes you regretted your escape. Yes, you were free, but what difference did it make? You had lost companionship. Love?

“We both hated to see you leave, but we understood.” Joel was no longer looking you in the eye but was instead staring down at his feet. “What happened there? It wasn’t right, the things we did with you. I can be the first to admit. It was the actions of two desperate, lonely men. But I’m not here to make excuses.”

His eyes moved back to look at your face, to gauge your reaction.

“I’m sorry. Tommy sure as hell is, he beat himself to death over all of it. You don’t have to forgive me or forgive either of us. But, please, just hear him out. He wants you to come over to dinner tomorrow so you can meet everyone. Then maybe we could all talk?”

You stepped back, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you tried to explain. The idea of being trapped in a house with people you didn’t know didn’t exactly sound appealing. Joel had apologized for both him and Tommy, truthfully, there wasn’t much of a point to even go now. What more was there to talk about?

“Joel!” shouted a voice from where the bonfire was taking place. Both you and Joel turned to watch a young girl run over to where you were standing. When she arrives you’re able to get a good look at her - pretty blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose that reminds you of the constellations.

For a moment you considered that maybe he had a kid. She looked no older than sixteen - it could be possible. But she didn’t look like Joel, much too soft in the cheeks. Joel had strong features while this girl was the epitome of a cherub, her rounded lips turned up into a smile as she grinned at you.

“Joel. Is it alright if I spend the night at Cat’s? I don’t have garden duty until the afternoon so I’d have plenty of time to get back,” she explained. Well, if she wasn’t Joel’s daughter then she was certainly Joel’s something. The sick thought crossed your mind that maybe something was wrong here, but the moment Joel reached over to tousle her hair, you knew that you were wrong.

“Of course not, El. Be back by dinner tomorrow,” he said, shooting her away, back towards the crowd at the fire. She gave you a farewell wave, one that you returned, as she ran off to find her friend.

Your face was warm when you thought about how you had considered that Joel might’ve been in a relationship with her. Joel noticed your embarrassment, watched the way you huffed into your palm, and shook your head.

“What?” Joel questioned, the distant fire casting a fire over his face. It reminded you of the cabin, of the fireplace. Of his warmth.

“You kidnap her too?”

The small grin that he had on his face disappeared in an instant, replaced with rage and disappointment.

“Of course not,” Joel sputtered, scoffing at the accusation. “I would’ve never- I mean, she is just a child,” he hissed.

“And I wasn’t?” you whispered back just as angrily, pulling your hood off of your head. You wanted him to look at you, to see you.

“I told you, I’m sorry. I’ve had fifteen years to reflect and I can admit that I was,” Joel pauses before snarling, “a goddamn monster back then. But, Ellie, she’s like a daughter to me. She gave me a purpose. With her, things were different,” he sighed, shaking his head in frustration.

Tears were burning the back of your eyes, but you forced yourself to keep it together. You weren’t going to show Joel that he had hurt you. That you had missed him.

“And why wasn’t it different with me?” you questioned, a genuine curiosity behind the words.

Joel only stood, looking down at you with his lips pressed into a frown. This girl, Ellie, had broken Joel, but you hadn’t. What was so special about her that she was able to receive his empathy?

The answer to that question was easy. You knew that deep down, it was never about you. It was about Sarah.

You hated that you weren’t able to watch him grow and change, to help him change. He never gave you the chance.

“I’m going to go,” you said, turning to leave both Joel and the conversation behind. Before you could walk off the sidewalk, you felt a familiar hand wrapped around your arm. A heat rose in your chest and settled in between your thighs just by being touched by Joel.

His dark eyes softened as he took you in, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, your body, your palms. His large hands dwarfed yours when he pulled you towards him, wrapping you in a hug. It was different from Tommy’s, one that was full of surprise and longing.

Joel’s was tender and soft, his large palms moving in small, gentle circles as if he was afraid he’d break you.

“Is this okay?” Joel questioned, one that took you by surprise. He had changed, that’s for sure. You nodded, melting into his touch, practically cemented between the pressure of his arms. It had been so long since you had been touched, focused purely on survival. It felt good, to feel wanted.

“When you left we searched for you,” he spoke into your hair. “With the raiders and all, we thought that maybe more had come and taken you. Took us a little while to realize that wasn’t the case. We understood why you left, why you felt like you had to leave, but… fuck .”

He had pulled back now, unable to meet your eyes. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be by your side until it was too late. I fucked up. We both did. But it was me who treated you badly, who excused it. So, I’m sorry.”

It was Joel’s third and final apology of the night. You had decided that you did forgive him, for all of it. There was no point in wallowing in anger forever. You had to let it go.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching to hold his palm in your hand. He wasn’t a bad man. He had never been, and it hits you only now that maybe you’ve always known from the very first moment that he’s not bad …he’s just like you.

Quick to anger, quicker to self-preservation. Neither of you has ever seen the best in others before the bad, your psyche molded always to expect the worst, tragedy burned in like a bad memory.

“I know,” you say again. “And I forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as if setting down something so heavy he’d become accustomed to the weight of it after all these years. He gives you this smile, but it’s sort of sad and the sight of it quietly breaks your heart.

But Joel regains his composure quickly, casting his eyes away from you and clearing emotion from his throat. Your hand still sits in his, a firm, warm hold on you, full of surety, devoid of hesitation. You try not to think about how much it feels like home.

“So, would you think about dinner then?”

You don’t know these people. You know Joel and Tommy but everyone else remains a mystery, and though nothing about Jackson raises any immediate red flags, there’s still a nagging warning that rings in the back of your mind. Don’t get close. This is only temporary. You don’t belong here. Yet still, you find yourself nodding, pleased with the look of further satisfaction that finds its way onto Joel’s face. “Okay. Dinner.”

When he releases your hand, it feels like a loss all over again. You swallow it down, bury it deep, pretend it’s not there like you’ve always done. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he says. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. Been a long day.”

You nod and force the words out of your mouth even though all you want is to beg him to stay, to wrap his big hand back around yours and pull you into his side. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Even though it makes you feel a little pathetic, you watch him walk away. But he’s turning back to face you, slowly walking backward as he quickly says, “You’re free to take any leftovers, by the way. No, uh…no thievery needed.”

It makes you laugh, the joy of the tender moment seeping deep between your bones. “Good to know,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind, but don’t be surprised if I pocket a silver spoon or two.”

You hardly sleep the entire night. All you can think about it the weight of his calloused palm, of the timbre of his voice as he told you they looked for you.

No one’s ever looked for you before.

Just before sunrise, you allow yourself a moment to regret running. It’s the first time in all your life that you think maybe flight was the wrong response.

Tommy knocks on your door early. He’s got on a pair of Levi’s and a black and red flannel, and there’s a long-barrel rifle slung over his shoulder with a scope attached to it. “Morning, sweetheart,” he says. The familiar sobriquet sends a warmth slithering down your spine. “Thought we could go out today. Just the two of us. That sound okay?”

Before you have the chance to think better of it, you're stepping outside and closing the door behind you. Tommy chuckles softly at your lack of hesitation and throws an affectionate arm around your shoulders. You can’t resist leaning into him, can’t think of another place you’ve ever felt safer.

But then you think of that day so long ago, with Joel wrapped around you, his strong arms encircling your waist, and you think tucked into Tommy’s side might be the second safest place in the world.

The streets of Jackson are relatively empty compared to yesterday. The sun is up, casting orange shadows over the puddles of melting snow, and the lack of prying eyes makes you curious. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s Sunday,” he says simply. “For one day of the week, no one’s got any jobs to do.”

Truthfully, the concept of a weekday or a weekend has been foreign to you for so long you’d nearly forgotten its existence. “Oh,” is all you can rebuttal. And then a few moments later, “Where are we going?”

“Hunting trip,” Tommy explains. “Just like old times. Joel says you still got my skinnin’ knife.”

The words hold some accusation, making you flush, but there’s a proud smile on his face and you know he’s not angry for your stealing. You can feel the weight of it at your hip, and pull it from the sheath attached to your leather belt. Slowly, you turn it in your hand, polished silver glinting.

“Figured you’d taken it when I couldn’t find it. Looked everywhere for that thing. Looked everywhere for you, too. But…I just hoped it kept you safe. Wherever you were, I kinda liked the thought of, ya know…just being able to protect you somehow. I’m glad you had it.”

His confession cracks your chest wide open and leaves you bleeding. You think of all the times his knife had done just that; protected you, fed you, saved you.

“S’alright,” he says. “Go on an’ keep it. S’yours now, sweetheart.”

You slide the blade back into its home on your hip and follow Tommy as he feeds and speaks softly to an all-black horse in the stables. He saddles it quickly and with precision before pulling you up onto the horse behind him.

Instinctually, you wrap your arms tight around his waist and rest your cheek against his spine, inhaling the familiar but long-forgotten scent of him. The watchers on the walls let the two of you pass with only a nod to Tommy, and you ride slowly through the wet grass until you come to a clearing in the woods.

There’s a tree blind, hidden at the edge of the brush. Tommy ties the horse’s reins to the post and he lets you climb up the ladder first.

Once you’re both safely inside, the horse grazing on the grass below, Tommy sits the end of his rifle on the edge of the window before settling into one of the rickety wooden chairs that have been hauled into the blind.

You take the one beside him. Even though you know a big part of hunting is the silence, a million questions press against the back of your teeth. After a few minutes pass by, you can take the pressure no longer and ask, “Who’s Maria?”

A smile climbs onto his face. Unsure of what to expect, it surprises you as he answers simply, saying, “My wife.”

“ Wife ?” It raises a plethora of new questions. How long have they known each other? Did Tommy ever tell Maria about their time in the cabin? Did the two of them build Jackson together? Why does his answer sting?

He seems to sense the confusion and reaches across the open space to squeeze your hand in his. “After you left. Jesus, I think both Joel and I had a moment of realization. I missed you like hell, the feelin’ of you, the warmth. To think that you had gone back out there, with raiders and God knows what else, because of me and Joel? Christ.”

Tommy sighs, pausing before staring out into the wooded distance. You could see how much he had on his mind, an unbearable weight that he had been holding for years. It was wearing him down, weakening his bones.

“I know Joel talked to you, but I really can’t explain to you how sorry I am,” Tommy began. You glanced down at his palm which was still holding your own, large and heavy against your skin.

“There’s no excusin’ it. You were so young, and innocent. Something that we hadn’t been around for so long. We had seen horrible things, had done awful things. We took advantage of you. I took advantage of you.” He turned to look at you, a deep sincerity held in his eyes. “Please, forgive me. I don't know how I’d be able to keep livin’ with myself if you don’t.”

There wasn’t anything to forgive. You had wanted everything that happened, at the end of the day. You had missed both him and Joel.

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me for stealing from you,” you said in an attempt to break the ice. You knew it worked from the way Tommy’s face broke out into a toothy grin.

“You’re forgiven.”

Tommy explained to you what had happened after you ran away from the cabin. How he had gone back to the Boston QZ in search of you, eventually abandoning Joel there to join the Fireflies. From there he had ditched the Fireflies, deciding that their methods were too extreme, and then, he met Maria. She had saved him, washed him of all of his sins, and gave him a purpose again.

“She’s a good woman. An amazing woman, Jackson wouldn’t even exist without her,” he said, but it felt like he was convincing himself and not you. Tommy looked over at you, a dark lust behind his eyes that you hadn’t seen since the last night you shared in that faraway cabin.

“She is,” he breathed. “But… sometimes I think about how different things would’ve been if I made better choices back then. I’m happy here in Jackson, beyond happy, but-“

You closed the distance quickly, knocking your wooden chair into his own. His lips were warm and soft, just like you had remembered them. It was easy kissing Tommy, like second nature. He hummed into your mouth and didn’t push you away. There was no huge rush of passion behind it, but something much more important. Catharsis. A conclusion.

“For closure,” you whispered into his lips. Tommy nodded, kissing you once more before leaning back in his seat, his hand still holding yours.

“For closure.”

On the way back, Tommy fills you in on Joel’s relationship with Ellie. They met in the QZ, where he agreed to take her across the country to Salt Lake City. When you ask why, Tommy insists it isn’t important, that if it was he would tell you. “It’s Ellie’s secret to tell, anyway,” he says.

You let it go, far more interested in something else entirely. Your arms are wrapped around his waist on the back of the horse and you’re breathing a little easier now as you ask, “Does she make you happy? Maria?”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Or rather contemplation, perhaps. But then he nods slowly and says, “Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

You’re glad to hear it. Truthfully. Even with all that’s transpired, you’re thankful Tommy was able to find this slice of bliss in the hellish affairs of the world.

“Does she know? About what happened?” you asked shyly. Tommy sighed, nodding.

“She knew bits and pieces but not at all of it. After Joel and Jesse found you, I told her everything. It wasn’t fair for her not to know.”

You would’ve guessed that he told her. He seemed to really love her, to trust her. If Joel even trusted her, then that showed the strength in the relationship. It didn’t bother you that she knew. It was for the best.

“And…Joel? Do you think he’s happy?”

This time it’s definitely hesitation. Tommy’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. He lets out a long breath, misting in the cool air. “He hasn’t been the same since…”

“Since Sarah, right?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, but…”

There’s something he’s holding onto, and you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or for Joel’s. Either way, this is the secret you decide you need to uncover. “Tell me.”

“When you left…I mean, I know I already said it was hard but it was different for Joel. I had the Fireflies and then I had Maria and Jackson, all things that filled the emptiness but Joel…I don’t know. S’like he never came back from it. From losin’ you.”

You can see Jackson in the distance now. A silhouette of a town, of a home. Your stomach turns, thinking that all this time you’ve both been suffering from the same plight and the cure has simply been forgiveness.

But can you live with entirely forgiving Joel? Completely? He advocated for your death, held you hostage, and shot you in cold blood. You can acknowledge and accept the fact that he’s changed, that you all have, that you’ve grown and matured and established a firm line between what’s right and what’s wrong, something the three of you once lacked.

You’ve finally found closure enough to move on from this, but if you let go of your anger, let it dissolve into nothing, what would be left of what you feel for him but longing?

If you let it all go…there would be nothing left inside you for Joel Miller but love, and you’re fairly certain that that would be even more difficult to navigate than your anger.

Once back in Jackson with nothing to show for your hunting trip but ease in your shoulders, Tommy secures the horse back into the stables and offers to walk you home. You laugh and joke the whole way and it feels natural, just like old times but perhaps even better now that you’re here of your own volition.

Once in front of your house, Tommy takes your hand in his and kisses your palm. “I’ll always care for you,” he whispers, dancing around a word far more intense. Once again, you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or for his, or if it’s for Joel’s.

You lift his hand to your face and lean into his caress, feeling the warmth on your cheek, the roughness of his skin brought on by age and hard labor. “Me too,” you admit. And then quieter, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I know it was…”

Tommy shakes his head. “No, sweetheart—don’t you ever apologize for that.” He used his free hand to thread his fingers through your hair, not dissimilar to the way you’d first touched him all those years ago. “You needed it. I needed it.”

He wraps his arms around you and you lean in close, soaking up his warmth, his safety.

You share so much in one embrace—longing, lust, regret, forgiveness. And when he pulls away, it all fades into the ether, leaving nothing behind but this deeply rooted fondness for him, a desire for him to be happy above all else.

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, come and find me. We live next to the daycare. Maria said to be there after nightfall tonight,” Tommy spoke, knocking his shoulder across your own playfully. “I hope you’re ready for a home-cooked meal. How long has it been?”

You stand, truly considering his question. Eating in the QZ wasn’t exactly pleasant. Typical meals consisted of stale bread and watered-down soup. You couldn’t even remember your last fresh meal.

“Too long,” you sighed. Tommy smirked, his warm smile making the skin of your cheeks burn.

“Soon enough. See you tonight.”

The day goes by quickly. You fill the empty space with exploration, walking through the greenhouses, around the buildings, and through the one currently being constructed in the northwest corner within the walls.

The people begin to emerge a little after midday, socializing with one another, smiles on their faces and ease in their shoulders. You see Jesse at one point while you’re walking the perimeter, checking for weak spots, and he waves at you and it feels so strangely normal that it startles you.

When the sun begins to set behind the heavy clouds, you find the house beside the daycare and stand a few feet away. You can see through the open windows that you’re likely the last to arrive—and for a second, you consider turning back and running as far away as you can.

Because beneath the yellow light, they all look so happy. Maria, Ellie, and someone else you can’t put a name to, all work together setting the table, six place settings with mismatched cutlery.

Joel and Tommy can be seen in the kitchen, sharing a few concerned looks between warm smiles, once in a while knocking the neck of their glass bottles together. They’re all at home here and have all curated a routine, a familiarity.

And you know without a shadow of a doubt that if you walk in there, you’re going to disturb it. You’re going to break the tranquility they’ve worked towards, you’re going to be the odd one out, the sore thumb in their causal, familiar cacophony. No matter what, you’re not going to belong.

The only hope you have is trudging through the unfamiliarity until it becomes familiar, hoping to integrate yourself into their already established lives.

But after all you’ve done since leaving that cabin, after all the blood on your hands, is that the sort of thing you’ve earned?

It’s not. You know it. You turn to leave.

The front door swings open, yellow lighting silhouetting his familiar frame.

He must see the terror in your eyes, must see the flight response kicking in because he’s off the porch in a second and taking your hand in his.

You’re shaking your head and your breath feels stuck in your throat, amassing into a stone of instinct that sits heavy on your chest.

“Tell me,” is all Joel says.

The words come spilling out, mechanical, one after another. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve this. I don’t belong here. I’ve killed people. I’ve lied and stolen and—”

He takes your face in his strong grip and forces you to look at him, the sight of adoration in his eyes like a balm to your heart. “It doesn’t matter if we deserve it,” he says. “Do you want it?”

More than anything.

Tommy’s voice cuts through the intensity between you and Joel. “Dinner’s ready,” he says. “Come eat, sweetheart.”

You do. Maria’s made a whole platter; roast and vegetables and some sort of broth soup with rosemary. There’s red wine and whiskey and sweet tea. Joel sits beside you at the table. Ellie sits across from you, beside her girlfriend who you learn is named Dina.

They’re all incredibly nice, asking you questions about your life before Jackson, never pressing too much, sensing when a topic is brought up that you don’t particularly want to recall and quickly changing the conversation.

The chemistry flows far easier than you’d imagined it would. You find you even like Maria, and you especially like that fond look in her every time she glances over at Tommy.

The food is delicious and you’re bringing a forkful of roast to your mouth when Dina asks, “So, how did you meet Joel and Tommy?”

The table goes quiet then, and Dina and Ellie share a confused glance. You chew slowly, hoping someone else will answer the question or, better yet, ask something else entirely.

But then Ellie jokingly says, “What? Did guys kidnap her or something?”

You nearly choke, Tommy lets out a long breath, and Joel is stone still apart from the feathering of his jaw. Even Maria looks uncomfortable.

Ellie sees the unsaid words and quietly mutters, “Oh shit.” She turns to Joel then, eyes narrowed into slits. “You kidnapped her?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you supply. “Not exactly. I stole from them first. Back when food was a lot more scarce.”

“So you held her captive,” Ellie corrects, unrelenting.

“A story for another day, maybe?” Maria suggests. “How’s the soup, El?”

You can tell she’ll circle back to the conversation the moment she can, but for now, Ellie lets it rest. And you’re thankful for it, because you’re not sure how to explain a moment of your time spent in that cabin even to yourself, let alone someone else.

After dinner, you help Maria clean while the brothers drink beer out on the back porch and watch Ellie play guitar. From the kitchen you can see Dina stretched across the wooden floor, propped up against the rails of the porch. The sound of Ellie missing a couple of strings makes Maria hum in amusement.

“Joel’s been teaching her for a couple of weeks now. She picks up quickly,” Maria informs you, taking a now cleaned dish from your hand to dry it. It didn’t feel weird, being around her, despite the fact that you had kissed her husband just a couple of hours ago.

“Yeah. She seems like a good kid.”

Maria places the plate into the cabinet before turning to you. She leans against the counter, taking a moment to look you over.

“You weren’t how I imagined you when Tommy told me about everything.”

Her words didn’t feel rude or passive-aggressive. They were more so honest, and revealing.

“How did you imagine me?” you asked, continuing to wash the dirty dishes in the sink. Focusing on the soapy suds melting off the plate the more you scrubbed it distracted you from the conversation. You knew that Maria was trying to understand you, but it made you feel anxious either way.

Maria sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not so quiet. Fiery, like Ellie. I suppose you are, deep down, especially if both the Miller brothers like you.”

You used to have more of a spark inside of you, but over time, it had slowly fizzled out. You had killed too many people, done too many awful things. After your father was murdered, you lost the majority of the fire that was meant to burn in your chest. You learned how to be a drifter and not get attached, because getting attached meant losing them someday.

The only exception were the brothers who you could hear laughing loudly from the back porch. Even after all this time, after leaving them, they had found a place to call home where they could love freely.

“They both care a lot about you. You had Joel pacing back and forth, wondering if you’d actually show up.”

A warm blush washed across your face and didn’t stop until it reached the bottom of your spine. Joel was waiting for you? How was it that he had shut you off, practically hated you all those years ago, but now, suddenly was worried about you? What had changed?

As if she could read your mind, Maria spoke. “Ellie helped him open up a lot. According to Tommy, she’s got that same spitfire energy as Sarah. Maybe back then, it wasn’t the right time. Joel was too far gone. But now, it could be different. You could take advantage of his weaknesses this go around if you think it would make you happy.”

You understood why Tommy loved Maria. She had created this town, a haven, and even cares about people she doesn’t know. She allowed her husband’s people to be her own.

“Maybe,” you agreed, focusing your attention back on washing the dishes. Maria didn’t pry and instead moved back into the pattern of taking clean dishes from your hands.

Once you finished, you followed Maria onto the back porch, trailing through the sliding doors. Ellie and Dina were so focused on singing a Foo Fighters song that you hadn’t heard for years (that you were sure Joel introduced them to) that they didn’t notice your approach. Tommy and Joel did, Tommy smiling at Maria before extending his arms. She walked to where he was sitting and joined him, sitting on the edge of his lap.

You were glad that you didn’t feel anything but happiness to watch the intimacy of the couple.

Joel’s eyes were watching you, dark and full of thoughts you wished you could understand. You wondered how he would react if you closed the space and sat on his lap - not that you had nearly enough courage.

“I think I’m gonna get ready to head home. I gotta organize the pantry in the morning,” you said, glancing over at the two girls who had moved on to singing some song you didn’t recognize.

All three of the Millers looked disappointed in your confession. “At least let me walk you back,” Joel begged, but you shook your head.

“No, stay. Don’t wanna miss out on this,” you said, glancing back over at Ellie and Dina singing.

There was something like hurt that flashed across his face, but it didn’t linger long.

“Feel free to come back any time,” Maria said.

“For anything,” Tommy adds.

Joel says nothing, even though you linger there on the porch for several seconds, secretly hoping he would. But you nod silently, thank them for all their hospitality, and compliment Maria on the food, before parting ways to the soft sound of Ellie’s strumming on the guitar.

For several days, you find yourself grappling with a decision. Should you stay, or should you do what feels most natural and flee?

Fleeing would be what you’re used to. A rehearsed, calculated event. Premeditated. You’d been thinking about it from the moment you set foot in this place. Take a backpack full of supplies; food, medicine, water. You’d probably even get away with taking a horse and a couple of guns from the armory.

You’d do it first thing before the sun rises on a Sunday morning when the whole of Jackson is sleeping apart from the watchers on the walls. You wouldn’t say goodbye because you know Joel and Tommy both would convince you to stay.

Instead, you’d leave a note on the table in your kitchen. One Saturday night you even sit there with a pen in your hand, but all you can manage to scribble down are the words I’m sorry.

You trash it before sunrise. And that morning, Ellie stopped by to ask if you’d help her tend to the greenhouse. “It’s an eight-hour shift,” she explained. “Four with an extra set of hands. They have that dance going on tonight, down at the community hall. Dina really wants to go.”

Of course, you agree. And as the hours tick by, you understand Joel’s attachment to her. Ellie is probably the funniest kid you’ve ever met. Intuitive too, and so smart it’s jarring. You like her, mostly because she reminds you a little of yourself when you were her age.

She talks briefly about her journey with Joel to Salt Lake City. Says he started out as this gruff, overbearing man, but towards the end, he was the only source of comfort remaining in her grasp. She says Joel saved her life but then gets really quiet for a while afterward.

You don’t pry. The silence is comfortable, the dirt between the creases of your palms and beneath your fingernails is warm, and you realize that fleeing is going to hurt an awful lot more than you thought.

After your shift in the greenhouse with Ellie, you begin to consider staying. Jackson is a good place, a safe place. One without the tyrannical rules of a standard QZ.

The following weekend, a fight breaks out between two men at the Tipsy Bison. One is drunk and sloppy and he has a knife strapped to his belt. You watch from a far distance as the drunken man stabs his opposition between the ribs, blood pooling in the mud beneath his feet.

You don’t see Joel right away, too focused on the commotion that breaks out over the event, but the moment he steps in he’s hard to miss. He has that strong, domineering energy about him. He breaks up the fight in a second and has the man with the knife unclenching his fist, silver glinting in the pool of blood as the weapon drops to the ground.

Maria and Tommy arrive a short moment later and the man with the stab wound gets carted off to the infirmary. Joel towers over the man with blood on his hands but says not a single word.

You’re not sure why, and you’re too exhausted to attempt unpacking it, but the way he just… controls the situation so easily has your thighs pressing together.

Joel and Tommy take the man someplace, but you don't stay around long enough to find out where. You half expect them to make some scene of it; whippings in the center of the town, a public execution as a display of power. You’ve seen such things before in the QZs you’ve drifted through.

But nothing like that happens, and all anyone can talk about is Rick’s miraculous recovery and what they plan to bring to him in the infirmary.

You ask Jesse what happened to the drunken man who stabbed him, wondering if they killed him someplace away from prying eyes.

Jesse laughs and shakes his head. “No, we didn’t kill him. He was exiled.”

You’re not sure why it surprises you, but it does.

The next time you see Joel, he’s in the stables. The first taste of summer has presented itself, spring slowly giving way, the earth thawing further each day. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt that stretches tight across his biceps and a good-fitting pair of blue jeans, and you watch from a safe, non-conversational distance as he moves haybales from one end of the stables to another, making room for the new ones loaded into the back of Tommy’s truck.

A light sheen of sweat coats his sun-kissed skin, and it makes your mouth water. All you can think about is that first time with him, how he’d gripped your hips with calloused fingertips, how he’d kissed your lips until they were swollen, how he’d pressed himself between your spread thighs.

You run home so fast you’re out of breath when you close the door, and the moment you make it up the stairs and to your room, you're slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your jeans to alleviate the ache that has settled and made a home between you legs.

Telling yourself it was a fluke, you don’t think of it again. In fact, you try very hard not to think about that day in the cabin, you try not to think about the way he looked at you before leaving you and Tommy in the bed on that last day, you try not to think about the way his muscles flexed in the stables.

You fill your time with chores. The greenhouse, watch, patrol, shifts at the Tipsy Bison. Anything that keeps your mind from Joel you greet with ready and willing hands.

But it happens again. Of fucking course it does.

It’s raining hard and has been for several days. The western wall begins to flood, and it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, moving sandbags from one end of Jackson to the other. Everyone is running around, moving as fast as they can, piling them into the back of one person’s truck and then someone else’s the moment one pulls away.

Maria woke you up in the middle of the night with a yellow raincoat in her hands, and of course, you didn’t waste a moment before you put on your sneakers and ran out the door with her.

She stations you at the western wall with a handful of others, unloading the sandbags and stacking them as high as possible to detour the pooling water.

Joel stands two feet away from you, yelling orders over the sound of the rain, commanding the situation in that way of his. You’re shivering, even with your raincoat, and as Joel’s hand brushes yours when he helps you lift a sandbag onto the pile, it sends an electric jolt down your spine. “Jesus,” he huffs. “Here. Take off your jacket real quick.”

You do, in time with him as he removes his canvas coat, soaked through with water. He pulls his flannel off and hands it to you, and normally you would argue he needs it more considering your dry t-shirt, except you’re freezing.

The soft fabric is warm and it’s a little too big but it’s the most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn. It smells like him, like pine and rain and Joel. For a moment you consider not returning it back to him and adding it to your collection of clothes you’ve taken from him. But for now, you relish in its heat, in its softness.

He goes right back to instructing others after shrugging his coat back on, as if the act of kindness was nothing, as if he’d give just anyone the shirt off his back. And maybe he would, but you’ve never stuck around long enough to find out.

It’s still dark when you finish, sunrise still a while away. Maria and Tommy thank everyone for their help and send you home, telling everyone to try and get some extra sleep, that shifts will start an hour later than normal.

You do as she says, noting the way the muscles in your back ache from strain but finding it strangely satisfying, feeling less like you’d lost sleep and more like you’d protected something that was worth protecting.

Joel’s flannel remains on as you climb back into bed. And though you’re exhausted, all you can think about enveloped in his scent is how he would feel beside you, on top of you, between your legs. Heavy and warm, strong and so incredibly safe.

It doesn’t even feel like there’s a choice when you wiggle your fingers beneath the elastic of your panties. And even though it only takes a matter of minutes to make yourself reach the pinnacle of bliss, it feels unsatisfying. Like it’s not enough, like it’ll never be enough.

You still wear Joel’s flannel while on patrol with Jesse later in the day. You vow to return it, promising yourself this is your chance to change. To be a better person, to reinvent yourself here in Jackson, to stop running, to stop thieving.

But you don’t return it. Several days go by and you practically live in the goddamn thing.

You lost count of how many times you squirmed against your pillow with the flannel pressed against your lips, imagining that Joel was there.

“Just like that, baby girl,” Joel would say gruffly, his strong palms pressed against your thighs to make your hips rock. “Missed listenin’ to those little moans.”

If you squeezed your eyes closed just enough, you could feel him on you, guiding you. You prayed that he still thought about you, but you were scared to know what it meant if he did. It would mean that Joel reciprocated your lust, your feelings.

One evening you walked past Joel’s house after a long, tiring day of helping create concrete for the expansion of the South wall. The summer project was to create space for new houses. Jackson was growing day by day, getting stronger.

You stopped outside the concrete steps, looking at the path to the front door. Would you have the courage to walk up that intimidating trail and knock on Joel’s front door? Would you have the courage to ask him to kiss you, to show you how much he missed you?

Your question was answered once Joel’s front door opened, and a dark-haired woman stepped out. She was turned back, telling Joel something that you couldn’t quite make out. The steps of your sneakers crunched across the gravel of the road, your feet carrying you as far away from Joel’s house as possible.

One last glance back allowed you to witness the faraway silhouette of Joel passing something over to the woman, something that you were much too far away to see. You had done something stupid again - assumed that Joel was single. You weren’t trying to jump to conclusions but Tommy was married after all. It would make sense that Joel had found someone too, someone to settle down and raise Ellie with.

The happiness that you felt seeing Tommy and Maria together was not what you felt when watching Joel with another woman. A big, ugly, green monster bubbled inside of you and threatened to crawl out of your throat.

You hated this feeling. You hated it so much that you’d ended up going to Joel’s house later that, shortly after his bedroom light had turned off. The streets were completely empty except for the night shift patrollers walking towards their posts, the day saying its last goodbyes in the same way you meant to. A basket with Joel’s flannel and his original jacket from fifteen years ago was left on his porch. They were rejected and discarded, like how you felt.

The basket mocked you when you walked away from his porch, a visceral reminder of what you were actually returning. Your devotion.

It was impossible to sleep that night, too many rampant thoughts running wildly through your head. You stayed up the remainder of the night, a scratchy wool blanket tucked beneath your chin as you sat on the couch.

The moonlight streamed in through your living room window, painting colorful silvers and purples across the peeling walls. It was eerily peaceful to watch the earth sleep.

A stark opposite to the peaceful moonlight was the sudden rough knocks banging against your front door. You couldn’t help the way you jumped up, your bloodshot eyes glancing over to watch the wooden frame shake with each knock.

You move over the back of your couch to glance out the front window to see who is pounding at your door. The top of your head peeks over the blanket, your eyes straining to see. It’s Joel, of course, it’s Joel, and seeing him with that frantic look in his eye has your heart in your throat.

When you open the door to ask what he wants, you see both his flannel and his coat clutched in a knuckle-white grip. “Is this your way of saying goodbye?”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” You open your mouth to speak but he raises his free hand and stops you. “An’ don’t lie to my face, don’t…don’t look at me and tell me you’re staying just to disappear in the middle of the night.” There’s a kind of aggression in his voice you’ve never heard before, even when he shot you. “You’re leaving.”

It’s not a question this time. And you know he’s reliving it, remembering every moment in that cabin, the same way you’ve been since setting foot in Jackson.

The urge to comfort him rises in you, to promise to stay, but you can’t. Not when all you can see is that dark-haired woman on his doorstep. So, you swallow thickly and cast your eyes away, staring at the clothes you’d return instead. “It doesn't matter. Keep them, Joel.”

“It does matter,” he insists. “How can you say that?” He pushes into your house, this desolate place that suddenly comes to life with him in it. “After everything we’ve done, after everything we’ve seen… it matters. This place matters. You —”

Your breath catches at his near confession. It’s the first you’ve heard it from anyone, and the young girl you were fifteen years ago silently begs for him to finish it. She begs to be seen, cared for, and loved.

But you’ve spent so long shoving her into a box in your heart that it’s second nature when you do it this time. Joel shakes his head. He begins to speak, stops, and tries again. “I…you…”

“What, Joel?”

He runs an exasperated hand down his face. Whatever it is he’s trying to say is bothering him, an irritation dug in deep like a tick. “Don’t…”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s none of your business, yet you still find yourself crossing your arms over your chest and saying, “Should you even be here right now? Isn’t there someone else you should be giving the pleasure of your company to?”

Confusion sinks in quickly. “What are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, so I can’t lie to you but it’s fine if you lie to me? Typical, Joel. You’ve always been a hypocrite.”

"Hypocrite? What are you talking about? I’m here, trying to convince you to stay in Jackson because it’s safe. Even if you want nothing to do with me, if you want me to…to stay far away, that’s fine. But this place needs people like us and we need it.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel—I saw her. Don’t fucking play dumb.”

“Saw who? ”

You throw your hands up, anger rising to the surface of your skin. “I don’t know! And I don’t want to know! She was leaving your house with a really big smile yesterday so I guess I should say congrats, right? To you and Tommy both, for finding whatever it was you were looking for in me fifteen years ago.”

Joel shakes his head. “No, no—you’ve got this all wrong. It’s not like that.”

“Right,” you say indignantly. “Because that’s believable.”

He closes the space between you and wraps his hand around your elbow, holding tight enough to bruise. Joel stares at you with his eyes filled with intensity, so much of it that you actually start to believe him when he says so quietly, “There’s been no one. No one since you.”

“Oh, so it’s just the start I interrupted then? My bad, Joel, should I apologize?”

“Will you stop?” His jaw ticks, and you can see his irritation as it rises, a near palpable thing. His neck flushes, and his eyes narrow. “She’s Dina’s mom. She came over to meet me formally since Ellie’s been staying over there so often. She doesn’t mean anything. Not like…”

“Like what, Joel?”

“Not like you,” he finally says. It feels like a breath of fresh air, and you think he must feel that way, too. Because his grip on your elbow loosens, his shoulders drop, and his eyes soften instantly. “You…you mean something. To me. An’ I don’t…I want you to stay. I’m…I’m askin’ you to stay. Please.”

In all your life, in all the places you’ve passed through…not once has anyone ever asked you to stay. Not once has anyone seen you like this, seen and known you well enough to know when you’re tempted and have enough time to deter your decision.

Well, until now. Until Joel.

“Don’t do that,” you say, shaking your head, trying to clear the moisture that pools in the corner of your eyes.

He takes your face in his hands, calloused palms rough and warm against the tender skin of your jaw. “Stay,” he says. And again, softer this time, a plea. “ Stay.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t give me false hope.”

Joel presses his forehead to yours. “I mean it,” he promises, and you want so badly to believe it, so you do. “Do you have any idea how long I looked for you? And even when I stopped lookin’ I saw you everywhere. Saw you in everything. That first winter without you…Christ, couldn’t think about anythin’ else.”

All you manage to say is his name like an escaped breath. Your skin prickles at his closeness, and you’ve never been good at resisting your impulses so you don’t even try to keep yourself from pressing your lips to his.

His hands slide into your hair, pulling you in closer, his tongue running across your bottom lip. You grant him access in the form of a moan that he echoes the moment he tastes the inside of your mouth.

You forget everything. Everything. All you know is the way this feels, and you suddenly think that maybe all this time you weren’t running from anything. Maybe you’ve been running to him.

“It’s always been you,” he says against your lips. His hands trail down your spine, gently caressing your soft curves.

The pad of his thumb brushes against the bare expanse of your spine where the smallest bit of your shirt has ridden up, but you feel the touch like lightning skittering across your skin. You wrap your hands around his neck, anchoring yourself against him, and it feels like second nature when he pulls you closer and lifts you off your feet.

In fifteen years nothing has changed—you still melt against him, defenses giving way, legs wrapping around his waist. You break the kiss long enough to whimper direction, saying, “The bedroom is upstairs, second door—”

“On the left, I know. Tommy and I fixed it up a couple months ago. Talked about you the whole time,” he says. And you’re not sure why but the knowledge has your heart flipping in your chest.

It’s almost like he knew, like they both did. Like they could feel you somehow, out there, wandering, finding your way back to them.

Joel lays you down and strips your clothes off slowly, fingers familiarizing themselves with every inch of your skin as if he’s learning it for the first time. He kisses your lips until they’re swollen, leaves marks in the shape of his mouth down your chest, and leaves moisture from his tongue over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

When he parts your thighs and tastes you, he’s still fully clothed. And you begin to feel exposed, like the two of you are standing on uneven terrain, but then he lets out a feral-sounding moan and you think maybe he’s suffered in your absence even more than you yourself have.

His tongue is soft and hot and makes your back bend off the mattress. Twice he makes you come undone with nothing but his mouth. And when he rises to his knees, peering over you, he looks sated. Relieved, somehow. As if being this close to you has healed him, stitched up some long-opened wound.

Unhurried, he begins to discard his clothes onto the floor beside yours. His flannel first, and then his t-shirt, and you let out a pathetic moan as you drink in the sight of him. His scarred, masculine hands working at the metal buckle of his black leather belt, his toned arms and his soft tummy, and that trail of thick, dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Everything about him ignites you, calling to you like some sort of beacon. Your skin prickles as he discards the remainder of his clothes.

And before you have a chance to speak aloud your fervent need, he’s settling between your thighs and pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. He cradles your face in his hands, gently smoothing your hair away from your face, and there’s so much devotion in his voice that it makes you tremble as he says, “You were made for me, little girl. Do you know that?”

You think you do. You think you’ve always known it, always known that whatever god-like, mystical being that resides in this world had crafted you with Joel in mind. All you can do is nod and bask in the moment, in the sanctity of your creation, in the wickedness of his. Carefully, he pushes his cock into you.

The stretch is painful at first, even with how wet he’s made you. But it’s a bearable pain, a sweet ache, especially with the way he whispers in your ear and presses soft kisses to your cheek with each breath. “S’okay, you can take it. I know you can. See? There you go. So fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You’re so perfect. Perfect for me.”

Joel rocks his hips against yours at a gradual pace. There’s nothing rushed about it, no aggression in his movements. It’s so different from the last time but the change in him just brings the two of you closer. Your orgasm builds like a fire in your belly, burning more and more with each thrust, heightened by the gruff moans that escape him, by the pressure of his body on top of yours.

He’s so warm and he feels like home. A sensation you’ve never felt since leaving that cabin, a safety like you’ve never known since. You love him. You forgive him. And so you tell him.

And as the words escape your lips, as you make that final confession that will alter the course of your life forever, his breath stutters in his chest, and that fire that’s been building in your belly reaches its full height, flames licking at your skin. He says, “I love you, too, little girl,” and it tips you over the precipice.

You reach the high of bliss together, at the same exact time, and everything but this feeling fades into nothing. All that remains is you and Joel and this otherworldly closeness. There’s nothing left to forgive, nothing left to navigate. As one, singular soul, you simply are.

He takes the time to clean you up afterward. You shower together, and he massages body wash into your skin, relieving the ache from your muscles. You don’t ask him to stay because you don’t need to; he just does. Because he knows you like no one else ever has.

You fall asleep quickly. It’s late and you’re exhausted, but for the first time in fifteen years, you feel stable. He holds you through the night.

But when he shifts just slightly, it wakes you a few hours before sunrise. His eyes are wide open and bloodshot, clearly straining to stay awake.

Shifting on your elbow to lean up, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

Joel just shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “Nothing,” he says. “Just go back to sleep. Get some rest.”

It’s clearly a lie. Something is tugging at him, and you’re determined to fix it. “Tell me,” you say.

He hesitates for a moment, working over his words in his head. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and tries again. And then he says quietly, unable to look you in the eye, “I wanted to be able to talk you out of leaving. If you changed your mind again.”

The words break your heart, cracking open your ribcage and allowing a trace of bitterness to settle there. It’s your fault, you know. Your fault he worries about you leaving so much, that he allots time to talk you down from a ledge you’re not quite sure even exists anymore. You swallow down the tears that threaten and crawl into his lap. You kiss his face a hundred times, leaving no space untouched until you’re both quietly laughing. “You can sleep easy tonight,” you say.

He nods as if he believes you, but you can tell there’s still anxiety lingering within him. It’s quiet for a long time. He just holds you tightly, arms wrapped around your middle. You think he may have fallen asleep, but then he whispers into your hair, “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Just don’t leave me behind again. Please.”

It’s a plea. He’s begging, in his own way. You kiss him hard, and in only moments he’s snoring with his arms locked around you.

You only wiggle out of his grip when the sun rises, yellow and orange hues cast across your bedroom through the glass pane of the window. You pull Joel’s t-shirt over your head and make your way down the stairs as quietly as you can.

This will be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You know it will be. You know Joel will pull things out of you you’ve been shoving down deep, know he’ll poke and prod in an attempt to heal all within you that’s been broken.

Because that’s the kind of man he is; one who takes care of those he loves, who sacrifices his own comfort for others. You don’t deserve someone like him and you know it. No matter how much you forgive, no matter how many times you try to wash your hands clean, you know it’ll never be enough for his devotion.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, eyes glued to the front door. It would be easy to leave, you know. Second nature. Instinctual. You wouldn’t have to face all you’ve done, wouldn’t have to unearth all you’ve buried, wouldn’t have to open that closet with all those skeletons.

Hands trembling, you try to catch your breath. Try to make that final decision, try to forgive a little more. Not to forgive Tommy or Joel, but to forgive yourself.

The longer you stand there in the kitchen, the less you believe you’ll ever possess that sort of absolution.

But it’s worth a try, isn’t it? To find mercy in a place it’s never existed.

You take a slow breath.

And then you put on a pot of coffee.

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#joel miller #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #ao3 fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ao3 writer #joel miller fanfic #smut #tlou #tommy tlou #age difference #fanfic #joel miller fic #angst #angst with a happy ending #lust among thieves

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ilovetulips · 2 years ago

Text

fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson

part 2 !

WARNINGS : smut 18+ pls ,, age gap (ages aren’t rlly mentioned but r is 21, e is 39) ,, p in v and all the stuff that comes w it ,, lots of petnames ,, use of yn!

A/N : first smut ive ever written. so scared rn. hope u all like it

———

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely petrified walking into the small hallway containing each tattooist’s room. your legs were shaking and your heart was pounding, so much so that your vision blurred as you stepped up to your assigned room.

“eddie munson”, you could eventually make out from the sign on the door.

entering the spacious room, you look around and take in the darkened walls littered with various drawings, the long bed on the left side covered in cellophane and the faint sound of music playing.

it took you a while to finally catch sight of the mess of dark curls on the right hand side, bopping his head to the music slightly, small grey hairs shining in the light and his hand scratching his pencil against the paper below him.

“h…hi.” you voice squeaked out in a stutter, sounding completely different to how you usually speak.

“can i help you?” he barks out rudely, not even turning to look at you.

“oh i’m sorry, i must’ve got the wrong room. sorry for disturbing you.” you begin to back out of the doorway behind you, before his brown eyes shoot up and meet yours.

“shit- sorry sweet thing, thought you were maria from next door. c’mere, sit down.” he gives you a cheesy smile while his eyes widen slightly. “you my 2 o’clock, yeah?”

your palms shine with a thin layer of sweat, originating from both excitement and nerves. “mhm, should be under the name y/n.”

“gottcha sweetheart, beautiful name. what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hm?”he rolls over in his chair to where you’re sat on the bed, placing his large palms over your trembling knees.

he smirks down at them before focusing on you, his pupils blowing out and looking at your lips every now and then.

“it’s m’first tattoo… can you tell?” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, his face intimidating you - not that you were scared of him, he was just really attractive.

“yeah, you’re shakin’ like a leaf doll, but i’m here to help ya stay calm. whattcha thinking of getting?” he tucks a stray hair of your behind your ear before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

god his arms were consumed in ink, only adding to his attractive qualities.

———

you spoke to eddie about the design, placement and all necessary paperwork before you were relaxed on the bed, laying on your side and watching the boy prep his tattoo machine.

you had a few voice cracks and stuttered a bit while talking to him, mostly due to his stare shrinking you, but he had made you feel extremely calm while prepping you.

“mkay doll, gonna need you to lift that shirt up a tad for me n’ we’ll get started. no rush, you tell me when you’re ready and when you wanna stop. can you do that for me darlin’?” his chair rolls back over to you, his gun ready to go.

you nod your head and reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. you’re stopped, however, when eddie’s calloused hand covers yours.

“words, sweetness. need you to use ‘em.” he taps your skull with his other hand, and pinches the hem of your shirt with the other.

you can’t deny the blush tickling your face is because of him slowly driving you insane, but you’re not going to stop him. “i can do that.”

“for me?” he tilts his head, crows feet creasing around his eyes as he smiles.

“for you.” your lips stay in the oval shape as he moves your shirt himself, yet you can’t take your eyes of his own lips. you have no idea how old he is. late 30s maybe? is this wrong? you shouldn’t feel attracted to someone like 18 years older than you… right?

he catches sight of the band of your bra, all cute and lacy. now it’s his turn to blush slightly. he can’t help the wicked grin spreading across his features, such a pretty girl wearing such a pretty bra.

“now you tell me if it hurts too much, wouldn’t want to cause such a precious girl like you so much pain.” he’s good at this. really good at this. your face was now beet red, and your thighs were unconsciously clenching together. you hoped he wouldn’t notice - he did. and it went straight to his ego.

———

you’re about 15 minutes into the tattoo itself. eddie taking his time and meticulously placing every line with care. you can’t help the small noises you make when it becomes particularly painful, once again hoping he didn’t notice.

he stops with a sigh, the faint bzzing making the silence grow louder, and the tension more suffocating. “sweetheart, if you don’t stop making those pretty noises i’m not gonna make it through this tattoo.”

his darkened pupils look up at you through his curls gracing his forehead. you didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at him with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. you, luckily, were too oblivious to notice the amount of times he had to adjust himself in his pants, and the prominent boner he was sporting right now.

he knew it was “unprofessional”, but he had never had a client like you before. you walk in with a cute little shirt and skirt, lacy underwear and give him doe eyes while moaning to yourself and expect him to not react?

“m sorry… didn’t realise i was doing it.” you look away from him, trying to focus on the artwork on the walls, but only being able to focus on the growing wet patch in your underwear. he has a way with words, and he’s incredibly attractive.

“don’t have to apologise, i like ‘em. but they’re driving me insane over here princess.” he leans down to meet your eyes in front of your head. the tension was so intense you were practically choking on it. he can’t help but reach over and trace your lips with his thumb, pulling your bottom lip down while you let him do it.

“so pretty.” he mumbles, leaning back and patting your thigh before reaching to finish the tattoo. “want you to lie just on your back now, yeah? nearly there doll.” and so you do, until the pleasure pain was so much that you were arching off the bed, your breasts nearly spilling out the top of your shirt.

eddie was glad he was wearing jeans that day, so the wet patch of precum in his boxers wouldn’t soak into their material. you, however, were not glad to be wearing a skirt with such easy access to your underwear, and the larger wet patch soaking them.

“fuck- baby you can’t keep doing that. you’re makin’ it real hard to concentrate over here.” he rubs his hand over his face and reaches for the cup of water on the small table next to him.

“…sorry.” you smile sheepishly. “can we… uh take a break?”

“course princess, you want anythin’?” by anything he means a snack or some water - but you’d hoped the offer was for something else.

you shake your head no before looking back up at the ceiling. that didn’t last long until you could feel someone’s eyes on you - eddie’s.

he was sat, legs spread and arm leaning on it, his veins prominent in the hand pinching his lip. but his eyes were the most captivating, as they were black. full of lust and desire. you saw the affect you had on him, and to be honest you have never felt so attractive or turned on.

you turned your head to look at him, lolling it to the side before contorting your body fulling to the side. your skirt flicked up and caught your hip as you did, revealing your panties and causing eddie to groan.

he clamped his eyes shut before walking over to you, gripping your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and forcing you to look up at him. “i can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose, or you’re just dumb.” his words shocked you.

“m not doing anything, eds.” you tilt your head to the side slightly, smirking as you did so. you weren’t doing it on purpose yourself, but maybe your body was just reacting naturally to him and doing it to make him look.

“eds? we’re on nickname basis now sweets?” he leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your lips as you squirm under his gaze. you nod dumbly as his hand travels to grip your jaw and rub his thumb across your lips again. you were practically panting, desperately trying to relieve yourself without him realising.

“you gone all shy now? after that whole performance?” he presses his lips to the base of your throat, peppering slow kisses up it’s centre before meeting your lips. “maybe i’ll just let you sort yourself out. who knows who else you’ve been a little slut for.”

a whine escapes your lips as he pulls away from your lips, missing his warmth. the name going straight to your cunt and making you needier.

“jus’ you. i promise. couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“don’t act all innocent with me angel, i know what you want, and you know what you were doing. want you to tell me what you want from me.” he crouches down in front of you, hands on your thighs and inching up slowly.

“need you to touch me. want you so bad.” you squeak out, shuffling about on the bed.

“oh yeah? want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” he peels back your skirt, your panties on full display as you lean on your elbows to look at him curse under his breath. he grips your knees and spreads your legs further apart, eyeing the wet patch between your legs.

“god you’re so wet, i can see it from here. got you all worked up hm?” he presses kisses on your inner thighs, watching you squirm until he roughly grabs your hips. his stubble scratching your thigh slightly as he kisses higher.

you hum in agreement, focused on the growing tension about to snap. that was until you felt his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear, pulling them down to show off your glistening folds.

he growls slightly, groaning at the sight before pulling your panties off and basically diving into your pussy. licking strips from your hole to your clit, humming and rolling his eyes back at the taste.

he was eating you out like a starved man, sucking at your clit and poking his tongue into your hole while you were a moaning mess above him. writhing and wriggling your hips, grinding into his face while you were overcome with intense pleasure. he brought his hand up, inserting a finger inside of you before lifting his head up and smiling.

“tastes like heaven, sweetheart. so so sweet f’me fuck.” he reaches that spongey part inside of you, your moans growing whinier as you reach your climax. he roughly covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sounds you’re making before watching his finger plunge in and out of you.

he starts sucking at your clit again, mewling at the taste of you before adding a second finger to thrust into you. your eyes were rolling back into your head as he coached you to your climax. you failed to notice the poor boy practically grinding the floor, trying to find any way to relieve himself while relishing in your pleasure.

“you gonna cum baby? yeah? go on, cum all over my tongue darlin’”. he poked his tongue back into your hole before making his way back to your clit. he was sloppy, the sounds of him and his tongue filling the room and probably the hall next to it. you didn’t have time to think about it though before white fuzzies took over your vision, and the coil inside you snapped.

eddie slowed his pace down, but lapped at the hot white liquid spurting from your hole. he was basically kitten licking it by the time you’d snapped out of your intense climax. you’d slept with guys before, with women before, but none had ever made you feel like this.

so you grabbed him by his hair into a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. you hum sweetly at the taste of yourself being transferred from him to you, trailing your hands down his chest and towards his bulge. he looked big, but nothing could’ve prepared you what he was actually hiding.

he sat down, spreading his legs as you knelt down in front of him, holding his cock in your hand and staring at it. he hissed as the cold air hit his sensitive tip, sticky with precum. he chuckled darkly at your expression, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your cheek lightly a few times.

“you okay there, doll? you can take me.” he smirks, smug from your expression. you lean in, licking a stripe from his base to the tip and taking extra time to lick the prominent vein pulsing on the side. he groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips up into the air before you grasp him with both hands and lick his tip a few times.

you watch his face the whole time, scrunched up in pleasure and making him look so much more attractive. swirling your tongue around his tip and licking the precum away, you start to take him down your throat until your nose hits the base.

“fuuu-uck. where’d you learn that you little slut? used to suckin’ big dick are ya?” his groans are sent straight to your core, making you wetter than before.

you pull away with a ‘pop’, and look into his eyes. “you’re so big, eds. biggest i’ve ever seen.” you’re about to go down again until he grabs your face harshly, puckering your lips while he stands and looks down at you.

“don’t believe that. you gonna let me fuck your face now, sweetheart. quit teasin’.” he holds his cock, guiding his tip to your parted lips and thrusting his hips in slowly until you’re gagging. strings of curses tumble out of his mouth at the sensation as he pulls out and fucks your face harshly. his balls slapping on your chin while you moan and clench your pussy as he uses you as a fucktoy.

“such a good girl, letting me ruin your pretty mouth like this. fuck- perfect angel.” he’s holding your chin as tears flood down your cheeks from gagging so much. he’s thrusting so intense that your jaw is starting to ache.

“shit shit shit - gonna cum sweet girl. swallow it all f’me, be a good girl.” and so you did. hot ropes of his salty release coat your tongue and the back of your throat. you stick your tongue out at him, so he can see the dollops of him cum he left there before you swallow it all happily and sit up to kiss him again. watching you, eddie could feel himself getting hard again.

his tongue swipes over yours, both of your recent releases mixing together in your mouths. salty residues left at the corners of your mouths before you pull apart.

“bed. now.” he pants at you, walking you towards it until your back reaches it and you fall back. you spread your legs again, giving him a look at your pussy dripping with arousal again. he watched as a bead of the liquid travels down your thighs, before he laps it up and rubs his tip through your folds.

the sensation of his tip hitting your clit almost had you screaming, but you bit down on his shoulder instead as he sharply sucked air through his teeth.

“eddie- please.” you pant, the words coming out strained from desperation. hearing you beg for it did something to him, blood pumping to his tip more than before.

he plunged into you slowly, the burn of the stretch adding to your pleasure as eddie groaned. he went all the way in and stopped, kissing your collarbone before looking at you.

“feels so fuckin’ good. so tight for me.”

“move. please move- fuck.” he pulls his hips sharply, before slamming them back into pace and setting a rough pace to fuck into you at. he was so big, it felt like he was ruining your pussy and your organs. his tip prodding against your cervix, creating a bulge in your stomach that he pressed on.

“look at that. too big for your pussy to fit. fuck” the rough pace he set had led your moans into an incoherent string of words. you couldn’t process what was happening, just the intense pressure building in your stomach causing you to clench around him.

“y’fucked all dumb up there, angel? fuck- clenchin’ around me like that m’ not gonna last.” his hips stutter before falling back into their pace.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck” high pitched screams sound out of you, not caring who can hear anymore because it feels so good.

“my dumb girl, pussy’s made f’me isn’t she. god you’re perfect.” you can’t help but drool at his words, being fucked so dumb that you can’t remember words.

you clench harder around him, indicating you’re close as your moans mush together. his hips falter again, becoming overwhelmed by the wetness squeezing his cock. he reaches his hand down to your clit, and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around and rubs it in circles around the nub.

the sensation is so overwhelming, your orgasm crashes over you with no warning. you hadn’t even got a chance to warn eddie about needing to pee - which didn’t matter anyway as you squirted all over his dick. the lewd sounds still filling up the room as eddie doesn’t slow down.

“squirting all over me, fuckin’ slut. you’re gonna stay here till i cum, use you as my own little toy.” you were falling into being overstimulated, the climax still having it’s effects on you. but you notice him slowing his pace down.

“shit- gonna cum. can i cum in you, doll? feels so good i don’t wanna pull out. please?” he flops his head to your shoulder.

“please cum in me, eds. want you to cum so deep in me.” before you knew it, his warmth was spitting out of his sensitive dick, painting your inner walls white and mixing with your own release as he pulls out of you slowly.

the white liquid of both of your releases drips out of your hole, before eddie quickly puts your panties back on you to prevent it from dripping out, giving the puffy mound a few playful taps and causing you to hiss from overstimulation.

“want you to keep it all in there for me, like the good girl you are.” he kisses you sweetly before flipping your skirt back down and making sure you’re okay.

———

“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” the man says next to you, arm around your shoulder as you trace the tattoos on his chest.

“me too. felt so good eds.” you smirk at the new nickname. you sit up and grab a pen from the table next to you. finding a space between the collage covering his body, you write your number down.

“i wanna see you again. call me?” you rest your chin on his chest.

“course i will sweetness.” he kisses your head before standing up and sitting back down in his rolling chair.

“y’wanna finish that tattoo now?”

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sleepyangelkami · 1 year ago

Text

TRUTH OR DARE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 8.7K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - it started out innocently enough. a sinless sleepover shared between two best friends, one much more experienced than the other. but nothing would have prepared the innocent girl for the events led from a simple game of truth or dare, started by ellie williams who knew exactly what she was doing.

☆ WARNINGS - smut, oral + fingering (r. receiving), strap sucking (e. recieving), strap fucking, use of 'my dick' and 'my cock' when referring to ellie's strap, tinsey bit of humping, dom!ellie, sub!reader, innocence kink, size kink, spanking, slight age gap (17 - 19), daddy kink (oops), ellie's lowk the town whore, use of pet names, kinda overstimulation, dumbification, inexperienced reader, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams was known in jackson, and not only by the way everyone may think. sure, the girl certainly had been known for the amount of work she put into the town by all of it's residents and of course she was known as the cheery girl, joel millers daughter, the same girl that wouldn't even hesitate to help someone unload bags if she spotted them struggling. ellie williams was known as one of the 'glues' of the town, keeping it put together. but how she was known by the teenage girls of jackson was a very different story.

ellie was fourteen when she came to jackson, she had matured much since then and everyone could see that, especially the girls.

It was no secret that ellie williams got around, nor was it a secret that she had slept with more than half of the girls in jackson, some even straight. but what she wasn't known for, was relationships. she was a hit and dip kind of girl, the one that never stayed the night, never attached herself to anyone, she wasn't the kind of girl to be a girlfriend, and believe me when i say... she rejected too many girls to so much as begin to count.

then there was always you.

you were another one of the glues of jackson, respectful and polite, hardworking but in many different ways than ellie was. you were sweet and kind yet awfully shy, hiding into yourself for the most part. sure, you got on well with the elderlies but when it came to actually having a conversation with a teenager, you ran before you could see the light of day. even the thought of it seemed merely impossible. but that wasn't to say that you couldn't handle everyone. you often went on patrols with dina and jesse, you always helped maria and her husband, along with joel miller too. and you never hesitated to help out with the younger kids, feeling much sympathy for them seeing as they had to grow up in the apocalypse, alike you, and you knew it wasn't too peachy yourself.

then there was ellie. oh, how you loved the girl.

when she first got to jackson, you were beyond admiration, fawning over her every move. when you met her it wasn't romantic, no definitely not, but she was older than you were, so fearless of anything in her path, so good at keeping conversation with everyone she met. she was so... cool.

she had girls practically crawling all over her, she was loved, adored, you weren't jealous of the attention in the slightest. you simply admired it, the way she didn't have to move and it seemed that every girl was fawning over her. she had been with at least half of the teenagers in jackson, and it was no help that most of the girls were... well gay.

you had never really thought about it for you never thought about being in a relationship but when ellie constantly spoke about being lesbian, about all the girls she had been with and i mean.. just look at her! you knew then and there that you too had the very same liking towards girls, after all, you had never really seen yourself getting with a boy anyway, not that you had thought about it.

when ellie noticed your admiration, she instantly took you under her wing, she became the best friend you had always longed for, she and you did everything together, spending all your time with one another down to the very last minute when you finally went to sleep. more often than not, you were sleeping at your house with her. your parents always away on guard duty or even on night patrol and you obviously had the bigger house of you two, so naturally, that was where the sleepovers occured.

just like now as you dressed in your shortest shorts in your wardrobe, pretty and pink, silky and slightly flowly though rather tight against your skin as well as your small tank top, pretty and white, little flowers dotted across the fabric. there was nothing worse than those warm nights in jackson, when everyone was asleep and you were left to deal with the heat alone, no one to complain to.

luckily, you were always attached to ellie's hip.

"I'm so warm!" she groaned in front of the fan, her chin on the palm of her hand in which had been propped up on your bed by her elbow, eyes shutting closed, she couldn't stick the heat any more than you could.

"same." you mumbled, lying on your back with one arm over your eyes, the free hand fanning your face, seeing as the girl had practically hogged the fan, snatching it right from you. the short and skimpy clothes did absolutely nothing to sooth the terrible heat sticking to your skin. you were just thankful that the windows were wide open and the fan was spreading cold air across your room for there was nothing worse than legs sticking together with the heat, or sweating in your bed.

ellie sighed, moving from the fan as she propped herself up next to you, she on her stomach, you on your back, however you couldn't so much as notice her with your arm strewn across your eyes. she was in a black wife beater tank top (one of which, when she had told you the name of, you stared at her with your mouth agape stating that it couldn't be true because who on earth would name a t-shirt that) along with grey sweatpants that looked too hot for this weather. you always mocked her for this, stating that she dressed like a twelve year old boy. "let's play a game to distract ourselves from the heat." she suggested and yet... you knew that playful tone from anywhere.

lifting your elbow, you crained your head up just enough to give her a questioning look. "what kind of game?" voice light and unbothered as you slowly put your arm down, looking up at her while she, face still in her arm, looked down at you.

she grinned―no, she smirked down at your pretty face, hand moving away so she could sit up. "okay." already beginning the game. "truth or dare." your groan and you pushing an arm back around your eyes had her pushing your arm back and rolling her eyes at you. "cut the dramatics." she warned in this tone that had your stomach feeling rather strange, not that you'd ever tell her that. "c'mon, don't you trust me?"

that smirk that played on her lips would be the absolute death of you. you sat up, hair falling down over your chest to hide the shape of your nipples through your shirt... you weren't wearing a bra. you didn't think anything of it, it was just ellie, your best friend, she wouldn't care. "truth." but oh, how it drove her crazy.

"boring." she rolled her eyes, settling on the bed as she criss-crossed her legs, elbows falling on each knee. a smile suddenly spread across her face as she picked the perfect question from her mind. "what's your biggest turn on?" oh, she was jumping straight to the point? you couldn't deny the way your eyes blew wide and instantly, heat spread across your cheeks at her question.

instantly, you turned your face away, hands pushing up in a 'no' motion. "mm-mm, no, can't do this with you ellie-" though it wasn't the first time you spoke about sex. of course, ellie would always tell you every detail of her latest conquests and while you should have been disgusted, you were more intrigued, after all, ellie was your personal sex ed guide. ellie couldn't deny it either, that sick obsession with the way your eyes squinted at her, confused, innocent, oh how she would melt on the spot.

yes you can, her hands grasping at your own, stopping them from moving away. "yes you can!" the hands on your own caused you to go impossibly more red, eyes almost begging, but for what? you were still unsure.

you looked at her, eyes falling as you stared straight forward at her. "i don't even know what my biggest turn on is." but that only had the girl scoffing at you.

it was as if she could read you better than you could yourself. "yes you do!" she almost groaned out, throwing her head back, as if you were annoying her, as if you ever could.

"i don't- i guess, uhm..." you bit down on your bottom lip, thinking back to everything she had ever told you about sex, what was your biggest turn on? it was funny, you don't think you have ever thought about it until that very moment when your hands began to brush against your own skin of your arms. "probably... praise?" you mumbled, barely audible. yes, that seemed like you knew what you were talking about for ellie and jesse had explained it in great detail in front of you before, not directly to you, but you heard anyway, while you and dina were busy looking at a photo album. all you knew was that when those certain words were uttered from ellie's lips, you couldn't help but push your thighs together.

ellie smiled, a smile that had her tongue pushing between her teeth. "yeah?" almost teasing you with that look in her eye, but you knew she wasn't judging either, there was a fine line between teasing and judging, ellie would never cross past the mockery.

"yes, now shut up!" you giggled excitedly, tossing the pillow into her face. however, you remembered to take note of the fact that your parents were home tonight and you didn't wish to make too much noise, otherwise they may come in and the last thing you needed was them overhearing this conversation.

ellie caught the pillow, chuckling as she set it aside, grinning at the funny look on your face. what you thought was awkward, what she thought was downright adorable. "your turn." she nodded at you.

you sat up straighter, moving your hands to stretch out your arms. "truth or dare, els?" the position you were in was anything but comfortable, straining your back.

"fuck it." she spoke, pushing her back up against your many pillows on the bed, you were envious of her. "i'll go with truth too."

now it was your turn to roll your eyes, seeing as she had called you boring for doing the exact thing she was doing now. "hmm, lemme see." you placed a finger on your chin, jokingly, though you were, in fact, in deep thought. you wondered what you'd ask her, there were many questions you wished to ask her before, all about the same topic she just loved to bring up, sex, but you weren't as outgoing nor as confident as she was so when you asked, you were sure it sounded too awkward, not as 'seductive' as she. "what does shower sex feel like?" you suddenly questioned, like an inquisitive student to her teacher.

ellie laughed in your face. "what?"

"what?" you threw your hands up in defence, though you couldn't deny the heat that spread across your cheeks and the embarrassment through your body. "i wanna know and you're like... the sex god?" and now you were really embarrassed.

ellie barked out laughter, throwing her head back again as her hand came down on her stomach, after all, you had called her a sex god, despite the way you meant it. "fuck, i can't!" turning over on her stomach, burying her face into your many plush pillows.

your cheeks were stained crimson. "that's not what i meant!" you protested, simply meaning that she knew so much, not that she was that good. you kicked her leg and just as you were about to toss a pillow at her, you realised you had no more. "just answer the question and save me my pride." hiding your face away in your hands.

"your pride is swallowed, angel." sitting up straight with a simple grin on her face, however, you didn't remove your hands from your own. "it feels good." you peeked through your fingers, she saw that and grinned. she slowly lowered her hand, your eyes watched as her her fingers came down to trace the skin of your leg, you ignored the goosebumps it left, she didn't. "usually starts off with... little massages, gets you all relaxed, you know?" she was practically whispering, suddenly, her body seemed so much closer. "and when you're all relaxed like that, soaking in hot water, the smell of soaps... everything's just so much better." her eyes moved up to your own, your hands had fallen by your side, you gulped gently, a smirk returned on her lips. "truth or dare, angel?"

your body almost let out a whimper, instead, your lips pressed into a thin line. there was a feeling in your throat, though, one that screamed at you to make a noise. but you knew you couldn't, of course you couldn't. "dare." you mumbled, exciting and yet surprising yourself.

you must have surprised ellie too, judging by her face, you definitely did. "oh... someone's confident." shock washing from her face almost instantly, she was well prepared, you weren't. "hmm... okay, I dare you to call me the nickname of my choosing for the rest of the game." okay, you thought, lips turning upwards as you nodded, that wouldn't be hard at all. "and if you mess up... i get to spank you." shrugging as she moved her body backwards, back against the pillows once again.

your eyes blew wide and your mouth fell agape, and yet still, ellie seemed completely unphased. "that's completely absurd el-" she watched you, her mouth opening, waiting for you to mess up. you glared at her. "what's the damn nickname." you grumbled, eyes cast down, though you couldn't deny the sudden excitement rumbling in your stomach, yet also nervousness, itching at the back of your throat once more.

"drop the attitude, will you, bun?" leaning forward again. she knew she could turn the situation around for the worst and she would, why wouldn't she? it was ellie williams for god sake. "the nicknames' daddy." and that was your final straw, eyes almost popping out of your skull. "something wrong? can't handle a simple dare?"

"no." you deadpanned, eyes squinting at her. "i can handle it just fine... daddy." the word seemed foreign, weird, you internally cringed and while ellie smirked, she didn't say another word, she'd wait to embarrass you about it later. "your turn, truth or dare?"

with sudden confidence, one of which it seemed she always had, she answered the question rather swiftly. "dare." without so much as hesitating.

"i dare you to...." looking around the room, you had to get her back but in what way? your eyes suddenly fell on your wardrobe and a grin spread across your face. "show me your polaroids." sure, it was your room but in a box at the bottom of your wardrobe, behind all your clothes and hidden away was all ellie's 'things'. at first, when the girl had practically begged you to keep all of her 'sex things' in your wardrobe, you instantly shut her down, shaking your head and stating that you wouldn't have her strap or other slutty belongings hidden away in your room. however, when she told you the story of joel threatening to tear her room apart to find what he was looking for, you couldn't exactly say no. your parents never entered your room without consent, let alone searched it. it was a place ellie knew her stuff would be safe, and you were her best and friend and oh how you admired her, how could you say no?

ellie stared at you momentarily. "fine." she moved her hands underneath her and made her way over to the wardrobe, opening it and fishing her hands in behind your clothing. you sat on the bed, watching as she opened the box, grasping the polaroid pictures and pushing the box back behind your clothes again, covering it altogether. "now." tossing them onto the bed, right next to you. "do with them, what you please."

you ignored her poor use of grammar and picked up the one closest to your leg while grimacing. you didn't want to look at photos of ellie and her sex buddies but you wanted her to care, to suddenly get nervous and anxious, to twitch and blush the way you do. but she never did, an amused look on her face as she watched yours. you flipped over the polaroid, eyes turning wide. there sat a picture between your finger tips, something strapped into ellie and... inside someone else. you couldn't see the strap really for it was plunged too deep inside some blonde girl, one of which ellie was tugging the hair of. "ew." the look on your face doing nothing to hide the pure distaste you had or the photograph. "who even is that?"

you're question caused the girl to turn around, settling herself right next to you. your knees that were propped up slowly slipped and she took a hold of the polaroid only she didn't take it from your hands, instead she placed hers on top of yours to turn it her way. "no idea." she shrugged and you placed the picture back on the bed.

"what do you mean?" you all but stretched out your sentence. "you just look at someone and say 'you're hot, I wanna have sex with you' and that's... it?" it baffled you, how you could just have sex with a nobody, someone you had no connection to at all, a face you couldn't even remember.

ellie shrugged her shoulders once more. "pretty much." she shrugged her shoulders. you gave the polaroids a look of slight disgust as she picked them up off the bed, rolling her eyes. huffing, she found her way back to the box, placing them back inside before seating herself back onto the bed. "truth of dare."

"truth." deciding that the last dare was much too far, you needed to get it back to the normal tension, not this one for it was much too hot, you couldn't handle it. then again, ellie was anything but casual, she was sure to make this hard for you.

she looked as though she had already planned this out, which she had, a thousand times in her head. "who's the first person you fantasised about?" eyes going wide for a moment as she grinned at you. yes, she surely was not going to make it easy.

you. the simple answer, to the simple question however none of this was truly simple, so you answered. "katy perry, obviously." rolling your eyes as if she had known this already, which she had, she just didn't know that it was a lie.

"oh, come on." she placed her hands on her knees to stabilize herself. "you saw her showing a little too much skin in one magazine and your frigid ass went ballistic." it was true, you had seen her in a magazine one day on patrol and you simply stared, a little starstruck.

"shut up, that's so not true." but oh how it was. you were a prude, at least that was what the teenage boys called you. you didn't engage in any 'activities' nor did you hear much about them unless it were from ellie, but seeing something? well it was graphic enough for your eyes to blow as wide as saucers. "truth or dare?"

"truth." ellie answered almost instantly, without missing a beat.

"stop copying me." you rolled your eyes at her. "uhhh..." rocking forward and backwards with your hands on your knees. "do you think anyone could ever think of... me that way?" tilting your head, sudden insecurities slapping you right in the face. you didn't wish to sound whiny, or insecure but it was ellie williams, she was your best friend and she knew you better than anyone and she had probably the most experience in the entire town, she'd know if you were capable.

"y/n l/n!" she almost shouted, a wide smile stretched across her face, she fawned shock. "are you asking me if i think you're hot."

"my god." you groaned, shoving your face right into a pillow because ellie williams truly never knew when to be serious, and you hated the way every time she laughed, your face felt hot and flush. the sound of a knock on the door caused you both to stop, heads instantly whipping towards the door. "come in!" you yelled out to your parents, you knew it was them for there was no one else home.

"hi, sweetheart." in came your mother, a smile on her wrinkled face, you made an effort to smile back. "hi, ellie." she was met with a wave before she turned back to her daughter. "me and your father are going out for night patrol now, alright? you and ellie might fancy watching a movie down in the living room now that you have the dvd player all to yourselves."

"okay, thank you, mom." you rose from your bed, giving her a short hug. you were touchy like that, especially with your parents, always making sure to give them hugs whenever you saw them, it was just the way you were. "love you, you and dad be safe, okay?"

"always are." she grinned, placing a chaste kiss on your head. "see you later." and just like that, the night turned around, maybe for the better, maybe for the worst, you weren't too sure. all you knew was that at one minute you were sitting in your bedroom, clenching your legs together and ignoring your scratchy throat with your parents downstairs and the next they were gone further beyond the walls while you and ellie sat on the couch, watching some shitty western movie she had borrowed from she and joel's house before, she never did give it back.

for the entire movie, you sat at one end of the couch, curled up with your head laying on the arm rest, knees almost against your chest while ellie sat at the other, legs spread wide and her elbow resting against the back of the couch, fingers toying with the bottom of her mullet like hair.

the rest of the night passed by smoothly. after the movie, you and ellie had agreed to go to bed seeing as you were both awfully tired. however, upon slipping into bed, the lights off and curtain drawn, you realised you weren't actually tired, no, for it was only mere fake tiredness from staring at all of those pixels on the screen.

you stared into the black abyss, ignoring the awfully silent room. you turned, uncomfortable so that now you weren't facing the wall but ellie's back. but you knew from the lack of snores filling the room that ellie too was not asleep for she usually snored rather loud. she sensed you turning around and undoubtedly did the same, eyes open. she gave you a grin. "hi." she whispered into the dark.

you couldn't help but give a toothy smile back. "hi." whispering back, though you weren't sure why you were whispering for it was just you two in the entire house. perhaps it was the dark making you feel as though you should be asleep, so you gently turned around, flicking on the small lampshade next to your bed before plopping back to your original space, huffing out a breath. your eyes fell on ellie's in which were tracing your entire body over. "what?" you giggled.

but she looked up at you with an almost baffled look. the light illuminated her skin and it seemed to make her impossibly more pretty despite the fact you could barely see her face through the darkness. her hand came to your face, two fingers pushing your hair behind your ear. "people think of you like that." she whispered, answering your truth question from much earlier. "i know they do." she knew she did. "truth your dare, baby?"

you ignored the way your stomach twisted in nerves and your cheeks felt as though they were on fire. "We're playing that game again?" almost groaning as if you didn't want this, as if your heart wasn't in your mouth, as if there wasn't something pooling in your underwear.

ellie's mouth turned upwards into a little smirk. "we never stopped." she spoke in an agonisingly teasing tone as she moved her face closer to your own. if she moved another inch or two, your noses would be touching. "so, truth or dare?"

you found your own hands fumbling with one another. "truth." answering, attempting to start it off easily, however, ellie wouldn't make it easy for you, you knew that.

her fingers moved to your arm, stroking up and down your exposed skin due to your white spaghetti strap top. "do you touch yourself a lot?" her voice a low mumble, you wondered how she could say it so casually, as if she wasn't effected by the spoken words, and that alone seemed as though it were impossible.

your cheeks flamed a hot crimson colour. you would have protested, stating that it were too inappropriate to speak of, but you didn't, why? you didn't know. but you didn't protest, you couldn't because you knew deep down that you had dreamed of this moment since you met her. "sometimes..." you muttered back, voice wavering. "not a lot." but on the nights you did, it was a feeling unlike you ever could have imagined.

"yeah?" you nodded your head dumbly. "how?"

and as badly as you wished to answer, as badly as you wanted her to know everything, you couldn't for your embarrassment prohibited you from it. "it's not your turn." you mumbled, embarrassment thick in your veins as the girls lips curled upwards once more. "truth or dare?"

you wanted her to pick dare, you wanted to choose something completely wild but you knew she wouldn't because for every question in this game, she's chosen the very same as you did. "truth." she responded swiftly.

"have... you ever thought of me like that?" had she ever fantasized about you, is what you wanted to know, what you needed to know. you needed to know if she felt the same, if she too spent her nights with dirty thoughts occupying her mind. dirty thoughts about you, like the ones you had about her.

"all the time." She mumbled and your heart dropped to your ass. "sometimes when i'm... with someone-" her hand still stroking up your arm. "i have to imagine it's you to finish- no, not sometimes." she corrected. "every single fucking time." and you didn't know how to breathe. "truth or dare?"

thankfully, ellie had moved it right on, so you could be free of those smothering thoughts, the ones that had your thighs clenching together right now. "dare." because if you choose truth, she'd simply ask you the very same thing she did beforehand. 'how' did you touch yourself, that was something you didn't know if you were ready to say or not.

ellie's lips curved upwards into a smug smirk. you had walked right into her trap. "show me how you touch yourself." and this was worse. way way worse.

"wha-" suddenly all your breath had left your lungs. "i can't just-"

but ellie was quick to cut you off. "a dare is a dare, angel." shrugging her shoulders as she sat up, you followed in suit. "unless you're too scared." she shrugged her shoulders and if there was one thing you hated more than this situation altogether it was backing down to ellie, her thinking that you were 'scared' even when you were.

you huffed out, staring at her with her big dopey smile spread across her face. "fine." you spoke, voice wobbling once more. "but you can't make fun of me."

"me?" ellie fawned shock. "I'd never." and you rolled your eyes at that one. "whenever you're ready, baby." you'd never be ready but there was a certain haze over the room, a certain gloss over your eyes that told you to do it, maybe it was your cunt talking, you didn't much care, simply huffing out a breath as you prepared yourself. nothing would prepare you for this moment, the moment you had fantasized about since you were twelve. you moved to grab a pillow, a pink, satin one to be exact. ellie couldn't stop her smirk, you have got to be kidding me, she thought, unable to contain her smug features. you truly had no idea what you were doing. you couldn't look at her, not when you lowered yourself down onto the pillow, still clad in your pink shorts that pushed out by your ass. "it's okay, honey, take your time." her soothing voice actually helped and you finally lowered yourself down onto the pillow which you had done a thousand times before... but now that there was someone watching, you couldn't contain your nervousness.

you let out a shaky breath as your hands fell down, grasping at the pillow to hold it in place. ellie watched your small form get comfortable before rutting your hips forward. at first, you were met with mere ruts, small pathetic breaths until finally, the sensation began to built up in your tummy. maybe it was because of the pillow or maybe it was because she was watching. you don't know what possessed you but it was almost as if you had forgotten she was in the room with you. you rolled your hips against the pillow again and again, this time with more force and much faster, no stops in between. a mewl fell from your lips as you pushed your ass out again, the friction from the pillow against your clit was... good but surely not enough.

luckily for you, ellie could see right through you. she knew you better than anyone and she knew just how to make you feel good. "poor baby." she cooed causing you to rut your hips again, pathetic whimper falling from your lips. "you've never came with this, have you?" you eventually slowed to a stop, the feeling of her hand on your thigh enough to cause the heat in your panties to pool further. you shook your head, holding back an embarrassed whimper. she moved up, lips against your ear. "need daddy to help you feel good?" you had forgotten all about the nickname from before but hearing it roll of her tongue, uttered from her lips, you found yourself audibly whining as you nodded your head swiftly. she placed a chaste kiss against your neck. "words, bun."

"need you to help me." your voice turned into a whine, one you had never heard from your own lips, in fact, you had never heard anybody so needy, you were almost embarrassed. almost. the haze over your eyes stopped you from feeling like that. "please." ellie had enough.

she was quick to flip you over, pushing the pillow from underneath you and out onto your bedroom floor. she wasn't hovering over you for a second before she had dipped her head down, roughly kissing your lips. this was the first kiss you had ever recieved and you found yourself never wanting something more. her hands were on your waist, yours around her neck as you pushed your head up to kiss against her lips just as roughly, needy, sloppily. she herself couldn't get enough. making out with you had been what she dreamed of since she had become friends with you and now she was here, she wasn't going to let you go easily.

ellie didn't know how to tell you something, so instead, she let you feel it. she grinded her core against yours allowing you to feel the strap already strapped to her beneath her sweatpants. you gasped at her, mouth detatching from her own. "when did you-" shocked as you felt it grind against your core, letting out a whimper that cut you off instantly.

she breathed heavily against your lips, a grin on her face. "when you went to the bathroom." she stated as if it were some little secret she had been dying to share with you. you couldn't contain your noises as she grinded against you again, this time slower, raking up your shorts as she did. "fuck, need to take these off you." she spoke, pulling at your pink shorts. "can i take them off you, angel?"

"please." you whined, watching as she nodded her head, moving her hands so she could grasp at the waistband, pulling it clean off you and simply leaving you with your white cotton panties on, a very much so obvious wet patch on them.

"fuck." she grunted, tossing the shorts somewhere on the ground, presumedly with the pillow. "all worked up already?" she moved her hand, finger gently tracing over the circle on your panties, your little wet patch that drove her absolutely insane, almost over the edge.

you weren't stupid, you knew what happened next and you simply couldn't wait. "please." you begged, whimpering into thin air as you bucked your hips forward. "please just t-touch me." and ellie waited, you knew what she was waiting for so you didn't keep her waiting long, after all, you didn't much like to wait either. "please, daddy." words almost a whispered whine.

"good girl." she praised, grasping at your panties so she could pull them down your legs. you shifted, squirming as your core met the cold air of the bedroom. ellie shoved the panties into her sweatpants pocket, you didn't bother say a word, too busy waiting in anticipation for what she would do next. ellie's eyes met your core, a small grunt leaving her mouth as she dipped her fingers down. her head turned up, watching your face contort at the feeling of her fingers pressing against your lips, one finger sliding through to collect the slick. she turned her head back down, pulling her fingers away and spreading them, looking at your slick that coated it, she found herself laughing. "fuck, you're so wet, aren't you?" you didn't wish to respond, hands falling on your face to cover your blushed cheeks. "nuh-uh, none of that." pushing her clean hand up to pull your own away, you stared at her with crimson cheeks. "use your words." she whispered against your ear, placing a kiss right beneath the lobe. "use your words or i'll stop."

you whined with your lips shut at that. "a-all for you." you mumbled out embarrassingly but you never took your eyes off of her.

she hummed, a smirk on her lips. "I'm sure." she pushed her fingers back down again, pointer finger rubbing tight circles around your clit, she watched as you moaned out, flushed cheek against her shoulder as she practically hovered over your side. she did it again and again, watching your face change and listening to your pathetic little mewls falling from your lips. the sight was straight up pornographic. so, of course, the girl just had to push you even further. she moved her middle finger, lining it up with your core and plunged a finger in.

"oh my god!" you held onto her biscep, listening to her laugh as she pumped the finger in and out of you, you had never done anything like this before. you should have been scared, but you were too busy thinking about the feeling building up in your stomach, the one that was familiar yet oh so foreign. you had felt good before but this... this was very different.

"yeah? you like that, hm?" almost teasing tone as she pushed another finger in causing you to squeal loudly. the feeling of her two slender yet very long fingers pumping in and out of you caused many different sounds to fall from your lips, ellie wondered how many she'd be able to get out of you. she picked up her pace, sliding them in and out with ease as they were coated in your thick juices. she thanked god you were so wet, it made it so much easier to play with your pussy. though, she did hope god was nowhere near that bedroom in that given moment. "feels good, angel?"

you whined, nodding your head. "s-so good." you clutched at her shirt, hoping for something to bring you back down to earth, but it wouldn't work. on the contrary, it only fuelled her to go faster. "i think, i'm gonna-"

you had never orgasmed before, but this was the best you had ever felt. surely, this was how it felt to being close. and ellie could tell you were too for your core clenched around her fingers, practically swallowing them whole. "i know, angel, it's okay." she moved her thumb up, rubbing circles against your clit as she continued to move her fingers in and out of your tight hole, she wondered how on earth her strap was supposed to fit inside there. "let go f'me, bunny." and you did. there were a string of moans leaving your mouth, including... her name. she smirked up at you, knowing you hadn't the slightest clue of the mistake you made by moaning out her name. however, she was sure to have fun with it nonetheless.

she waited until you came down from your high, until your moans had just turned to harsh breaths, quick pants as you laid on your back, blinking heavily. never in your life had you ever felt so good, your core almost felt strange without her fingers inside of it. you had gotten a taste, you needed so so much more, you needed everything.

you felt ellie bend her head down, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you breathed out another pant, eyes chasing hers. she returned her face towards yours, a knowing smirk plastered on it, your brows furrowed. "think you called me by the wrong name, honey." your jaw went slack at the realisation. "games not over yet." at the same time as fear entered your body, excitement ran through it.

ellie was quick to move, pushing you instantly so that you were draped across her lap, she manhandled you, as if you were a toy, so easy to pick up and toss around. and in her eyes, you truly were. after all, she had picked you up and thrown you across her lap as if you were, in fact, a doll. "wait." you whined out, suddenly scared. you knew that you had agreed to the dare but the thought of her hand coming in contact with your ass, the thought of her hurting you, it was rather scary. " 'm sorry daddy." you cried out pathetically, as if it would save you now.

"i know you are, bunny." her hand came down on your bare ass gently, rubbing along your skin as if you were a china doll made of glass, she grinned as you practically held onto her leg. you almost thought that she was going to let you off, but you knew better. "that's why daddys gonna be really nice to you tonight. i'll only give you five, 'kay?" you nodded your head despite your wobbling lip, this earned a small swat to your bottom. "words, angel."

"okay, daddy." mumbling out adorably as you held onto ellie as much as you could, scared that if you let go she'd disappear. your eyes shut close together at the feeling of her hand lifting from your ass. you squinted them close, ready for heavy impact and well.. pain. but as her hand came down, slapping your skin harshly, you didn't feel all too much in pain. it was a sort of elevating, almost gratifying feeling. you wondered, why would something that was suppose to cause pain, actually cause pleasure? or, was that the whole point in the first place? your thoughts of rambling were cut off by another slap. you flinched, despite the feeling of pleasure, it still stung and you could only imagine how red your ass would be now. you flinched in her lap, causing her large hand to have to hold you in place so you didn't move. you whined out as the third hit came down on your pretty skin. ellie smirked to herself, her plan working out gracefully.

she rubbed your skin once more, placing a chaste kiss on the bottom of your back before returning. "you're doin' so good for daddy, baby, you'll get a reward later, m'kay?" but this time, she didn't offer you a chance to respond, didn't even give you time to do so for she was spanking you once more. you wondered if this was her plan all along, why she had ever bothered to play truth or dare in the first place. but despite ellie's wild imagination about you, and about this very moment, you across her lap and her own hand spanking you, she didn't actually intend for it to go this far, however, she loved it more than she could ever explain. "one more, bun." and that was it, one more sharp stinging slap as you flinched once more, teary eyed and pouty lips as the girl allowed you to crawl into her lap.

ellie's lips were far from a pout herself, on the contrary, there was a pretty smile playing on it. she pushed your hair behind your ear. "was so good for daddy, weren't you baby?" you nodded your head as you pushed it into the crook of her neck. she began to rock her hips slightly, knowing that her strap was bumping against your already soaked and sensitive pussy. "yeah, my good girl." rubbing your sides up and down. "what do you say i give you that reward now, hm?" you sat in her lap, nodding your head briskly.

it didn't take long to get to where you were. sitting on your knees completely naked in front of ellie who too was now completely naked all except for the strap that was strapped to her lower half, dangling in front of you as your mouth completely covered it. it was neon pink, pretty and... very long. your eyes were shut as your tongue felt around the silicone toy, whimpering as it hit the back of your throat.

ellie had earlier stated that she was going to fuck you with it and of course with big eyes and a watering mouth, you indefinitely agreed to it but when she told you that you'd need to prepare first, you had no idea what she was talking about. you were scared, nervous, completely gone timid, worried you'd mess up in some way. nonetheless, when you finally had her strap in your mouth, you couldn't get enough.

ellie was sitting on the bed, legs spread apart as if she were man spreading while you knelt on the ground, hands holding onto her thighs after she had guided the toy in between your lips. you moaned into it as she pushed your head down further. her hand had somehow would up at the back of your head, fingers interlacing your locks of hair.

she pushed your head down on the strap, bobbing it so that the strap moved, bumping against her own clit. "fuck, just like that." her voice tight, her throat closing up. but she could feel it, the stimulation becoming oh so much, so she forced your head up, allowing you to stop. you watched her closely, moving your head away so that a string of spit connected your lips with her strap. "fuck, baby, y'look so pretty like this." she mumbled, her thumb swiping across your glossy lips, she groaned, she couldn't get enough. "c'mere." patting the bed as she too readied herself.

" 'kay." you mumbled, standing up on your wobbly legs. you felt them become like jelly beneath you, whether it was from your first orgasm, whether it was due to the spanking you had recieved from earlier or it was simply because you had been on your knees for rather long, or perhaps it was a combination of them all. you sat yourself on the bed, instantly becoming attacked by ellie's kisses.

her hand came up to sooth your cheek, fingers softly padding against your lithe skin. she sloppily kissed you, hot, open mouthed and messy kisses. you moaned into it, finding it hard to kiss back, the heat in your core suddenly returning as you felt your own hand sitting between your legs, you found yourself almost grinding on it. you couldn't take it, though, not when you felt so high and yet recieved no friction in where you needed it the most.

ellie noticed this, however, she never scolded you, instead she simply pushed your shoulders back gently. the kiss was detatched as you found your body falling limp against the mattress beneath you. however, the girl instantly towered over your frame, lips pushing down to meet your own. there was a sense of need, one of desperation as you kissed her back, finding your lips completely chasing her own.

she made a move to stand her hands on either side of your head, trapping you while she also lined herself up, making it easy to slip in, but she didn't. she moved one hand down, not breaking the kiss as she slightly pumped the silicone dick, lining it up with your entrance but only allowing the tip to tease at your hole. you whined out harshly, grasping at her shoulders and looking up at her with big doey eyes.

"what's wrong baby?" she asked in such a condescending voice, knowing how desperately you needed her. but how dumb you felt now, you couldn't even speak, words becoming a complete mush inside your brain. "c'mon, can't give you what you want if you don't tell me what it is, bunny." fingers stroking at your inner thigh.

you simply couldn't help it anymore, despite as dumb as you felt. "please, daddy, please— need it so bad, please, just want you in me please, please!" you were a babbling, waffling mess as you tried anything you could, even bucking your own hips in hopes of slipping her strap in further.

her lips came down to kiss against your neck, cutting off your babbles with a whimper. "as you wish, love." and slowly, she entered. you moaned out, wincing slightly as your hands clawed at her bare back, not so much as covered in a bra by now. you couldn't help the way you clenched around it, sensitive area already so stimulated. you felt dumb, completely and utterly fucked out by just her fingers. "fuck." she grunted, her head bent down low to meet the crook of your neck, hovering over you as her strap made it's way inside. "fuck, that hurt?" but you didn't respond, simply shaking your head with an 'mm-mm' because, truly, it was all you could muster.

however, it did hurt, just a slight stinging feeling but it soon went away. ellie could tell this, despite your answer because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself and she certainly knew your body. so, she didn't move for a brief moment, allowing you to collect yourself and breathe a breath out. "c-can you move?" you asked feebly, you knew she was awaiting your command, but you found it so incredibly hard to ask, you knew you shouldn't feel so embarrassed. after all, it was ellie, your best friend, the girl you had been so utterly in love with since you laid eyes upon her. there was no one you'd rather be doing this with.

" 'course i can, baby." pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before she began to move.

it began slow, the way her hips slowly pulled out, not the full way, of course, then slowly pushing back in. the pace began to pick up after that and her thrust was a little more powerful. her eyes strained down on where you met, she couldn't help the groans that left her lips at your pitiful whimpers, the ones in which it awfully hard to stop herself from letting go completely.

but soon after she found you both comfortable. she did, in fact, let go.

she was soon enough slamming her hips against your own. it didn't take long, for her self control to be thrown right out of the window. she didn't stop her swift pace at anything. the room had a lingering smell of sex, there were beads of sweat on both your foreheads. "fuck, yeah, taking my dick so well." she grunted out, shoving her strap into your pussy further, allowing it to reach your g spot as you moaned out loudly.

your legs had soon found themselves wrapped around her waist, her hand on the bottom of your lower back as you found your own arms holding her shoulders close. she could feel your tits against her own, pushing up against her as she fucked you with everything she could, free had on your thigh, prodding and squishing at the loose fat while her strap pumped into your tight hole. you were a babbling mess, moaning and mewling, fast whimpers falling from your lips and all rather loud. but how could you fight it? when her 'dick' felt so good inside of you, when she pumped it so hard yet so delicately. you felt as though you were on fire, you were sure, there was no better feeling than this. you felt so good that you couldn't even form coherent sentences.

with your whines and mewls she only picked up her pace, strap bumping against her clit as she fucked you hard, practically fucking you right into the mattress. "you like my cock?" she panted out, heavy and quick. she took your mewl and went with it, a big smirk plastered onto her face. "fuck, yeah you like daddy's cock." and you couldn't even deny it, for it was very true.

there was a feeling building up in your stomach, one of which had you screaming. you knew exactly what it was, for you had felt it the same way you did beforehand, the very same feeling you felt when her fingers were buried into your tight hole. and ellie too, could feel her own stomach building up with tension. she glanced down, to where her strap disappeared inside your tiny hole, a creamy ring sitting at the base of where you connected. down to every girl she had ever fucked, this was undoubtedly the best. she had never felt so euphoric in her entire life.

your high pitched whine, attempt to babble out words, it alerted ellie just what who was coming. "i know, i know." shushing you like a baby as he held onto you as tight as she could, her knuckles turning a white colour instead of her naturally olive skin. she too let out more grunts than she could afford, barely able to keep her noises contained as she rammed her hips against yours. "come f'me, angel, come on daddy's cock." and that was it, once again you were falling apart like mush in her hands.

the sight of you, turning to putty in her very own arms, she couldn't help herself, she too felt herself letting go. she turned her hips into sloppy slaps against your body, lips chasing yours as she attempted to kiss you hard yet messily, you could barely kiss back, however you did your very best, wanting nothing more than to please ellie.

finally, she slipped her silicone strap outside of you, turning to lay on her side as she still held you in her arms. your own hands came up to grasp her strong bicep, tired and droopy eyes not bothering to so much as look up at her. you couldn't move, too dumb, too fucked out, you couldn't so much as utter a word. at that, ellie grinned a wide grin, knowing only two orgasms had you so fucked out and overstimulated, she felt pride booming in her chest for after all, she did that. "truth or dare, baby?" she joked causing you to roll your eyes.

with all the energy you could, you shoved her chest a little. "shut up." you mumbled before sticking your head right between her arms and her chest, allowing yourself to burrow.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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starkwlkr · 1 year ago

Note

Hey love your baby Leclerc serie i have maybe a idea for the serie

Maybe where yn gets her hair dyed and ruby wants also her hair dyed maybe 2 locks of her hair and when they got home ruby is like daddy look my hair

little miss rainbow hair | charles leclerc

changed it just a little bit here it is :)

Y/n wanted a change. At first she wasn’t sure if that change meant getting a tattoo or dyeing her hair. She then realized that she wasn’t ready for a tattoo yet so a trip to Pascale’s hair salon was on the top of her to do list. When she arrived to the salon, some of the nice older women said hello to Ruby and Y/n since they visited Pascale many times. Y/n greeted her mother in law and talked to her about having a change in her hair.

“Hi! Hi! Hi!” Ruby greeted each women as she passed them by. When she got to a woman who she remembered had brown hair, she gasped since the woman now had red hair. “Your hair! It’s red!” Ruby excitedly told the woman, whose name was Maria.

Maria chuckled. “It is. My favorite color is red so I decided to change it.”

“It’s pretty. I want to paint my hair rainbow colored, but papa says I can’t because I’m too little but when I grow up this big,” she showed her desired height with her hands. “I’m going to paint my hair rainbow.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful!” Maria said.

“Does painting your hair hurt? Do you miss your brown hair? What if you want a different color?” The little girl continued with her questions. Maria laughed, she didn’t mind answering any question that Ruby had.

After talking with Pascale, Y/n decided that cutting and dyeing her hair was her desired style. “Ruby, come here for a minute.” Y/n told her daughter.

Ruby skipped towards her mother, who was seated in the stylist chair. “Are you painting your hair too? Paint it red!”

“I am painting my hair but it’s not going to be red, babe. Maman’s hair is going to be (whatever color you want). And I’m going to cut it just a little. What do you think? Is papa going to like maman’s hair?” Y/n asked.

“He’s going to love it!” The girl said rather aggressively. She then saw bottles of hair dye on the counter and ran towards them. She saw the color red and immediately grabbed it and ran to Pascale. “Can you paint my hair, grand-mère? Please!”

Pascale took the bottle away from the girl and placed it on a shelf. “This isn’t meant for little girls, amour, sorry.”

“So I have to wait a hundred years? That’s so long!” Ruby whined.

“You don’t have to wait a hundred years, that’s silly. Maybe when you’re fifteen, your papa and maman can let you dye your hair.” Pascale replied.

“Die? I don’t want to die.” Ruby’s eyes widened.

“D-y-e. Dye. The bottle you had is hair dye and what I’m going to put on your maman’s hair is hair dye. Basically paint for your hair. It comes in all colors for all types of hair.” Pascale explained as she walked with the girl to where Y/n was.

“Oh. Well . . . Maman, can I dye my hair?” Ruby asked innocently.

“When you’re older you most certainly can, Ruby Jules,” Y/n replied as Pascale began to wet Y/n’s hair. “And don’t get any ideas about painting your hair with actual paint or markers. It’s not good for your hair.”

“But I want rainbow hair.” She said defeated.

Suddenly Maria walked up to the Leclerc family. “Sorry, I heard little Ruby wanted to ‘paint’ her hair and obviously hair dye isn’t for you yet. My daughters always ask me to dye their hair so I bought this,” Maria gave Y/n a little bag with colored containers. “They’re called color chalk. It’s a fun way for kids to color their hair in a safe way. It lasts long which surprised me but if you want you can keep those for Ruby. I have more in house. My daughters love them so much, I have plenty.”

Ruby then looked at her maman with a little smirk. “Rainbow hair.” She whispered.

“You win, you little rascal.” Y/n sighed.

When Charles got home, he didn’t expect both of his girls to be sporting new hair looks. He first saw Y/n’s hair and immediately loved it. He couldn’t keep his hands off her hair. He loved to run his fingers through it. As he was about to give her another compliment, Ruby walked into the living room with rainbow colored hair.

“Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Charles asked.

“It’s me, papa! It’s Ruby, but with rainbow hair.” She flipped her hair and walked to sit beside him.

“Okay, Ruby but with rainbow hair, I hope that comes off because you have school pictures in a month.” Charles informed her.

“Maria said it lasts long so I guess little miss rainbow hair is going to be colorful for her school pictures.” Y/n smiled at her daughter.

“I’m so much cooler than you, papa. I have rainbow hair and you don’t.” Ruby teased.

“Y/n, get me the scissors.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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chvoswxtch · 10 months ago

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Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to.

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different.

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them.

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie.

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight.

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years.

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy.

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now.

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt.

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment.

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home.

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago.

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic #matt murdock #daredevil

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