#and jackson only commented on ONE of those things
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"
Great question I have a wonderful answer for you
to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?
here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory
Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change
then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character
Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.
what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it
and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her
and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up
oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important
... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.
You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.
Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.
If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.
Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.
#annabeth chase#leah is our annabeth#leah sava jeffries#hazel levesque#leo valdez#frank zhang#percy jackson#jason grace
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
A lot of controversy around what jackson said at his concert recently . And all i can say for sure is that some of u kpoppies really fucking hate chinese people.
#if u are not jumping down the throat of an idol who goes to the US and says i love america! and#questioning them on if they also loved the internment camps at the us mexico border or if they also loved women not having bodily autonomy#then you dont get to say shit about this#all jackson said was that western media promotes propaganda against china and hes RIGHT.#like western countries have a vested interest in vilifying china and the chinese govt has an imperialist agenda can COEXIST.#and jackson only commented on ONE of those things#anyway idec about him but he is so westernized and to see ppl react like this to even him saying hey most chinese ppl are good ppl.. well.#kpop fans do not deserve rights#sidney talks shit
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
splash
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
snapshots masterlist
summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33
Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.
She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.
“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”
He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”
But it had been too late.
Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”
Joel decided to put his foot down.
Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.
“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”
“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.
“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.
He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.
Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.
Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.
Like Rosie does.
Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall��it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.
“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”
Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”
“Joel—”
“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.
“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”
He’d found very little consolation in that.
Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.
“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.
“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”
“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”
Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.
“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”
She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”
“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”
She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”
Groaning, you shove through the front door.
You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.
It would take some getting used to—again.
“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.
There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”
“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”
“How long is a while, El?”
“She invited me to stay for dinner.”
You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”
Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you ask Joel for permission?”
“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”
Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?”
“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”
Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”
“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.
There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.
Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.
“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.
“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.
He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”
Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.
“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”
She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks.
After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”
“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”
“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”
“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”
“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.
“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”
You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.
He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.
“Joel? What happened to my child?”
“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”
“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”
Rosie beams. “Yeah!”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”
“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.
“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.
Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.
“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her.
“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”
About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply.
“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him.
Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”
“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”
His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”
Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.
“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”
Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”
“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.
He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”
divider credit to @/saradika 🩵
#fic: snapshots#girldad!joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller drabble#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
cause baby, you get me so...
dom!mascellie x sub!femreader
|| authors note: this is the first story I've ever actually felt proud enough to post || also sorry if it's iffy! I'm still new to writing but I've been taking awhile observing my favorite fic writers and have learned a few things so.. enjoy!! :) || (I made this because of shy smith's new song.) ||
|| CW: smut with a lot of plot, mdni, wlw, friends with benefits, ellie loves tits, LITTLE use of 'y/n', fingering, use of swear words, praising, ellie is soft, barely experienced reader, ellie shows reader true pleasure, and light masturbation. ||
you and ellie had been friends since almost forever, you've always been inseparable. and when you both grew older your innocent mind turned into something you never expected, you saw ellie in a different light and seemingly grew a liking to her. she's always protected you from everything and always treated you better than any other girl in jackson (which made you admire her even more), it was almost like she had a sweet spot for you, which you never understood why she did.
ellie was very proudly out, she loved having people know she was gay, she had multiple girlfriends but everything seemed to end up in the same way, ellie gets bored and she breaks up with them. and then there was you, a girl who was scared to come out, you had always pretended to like guys and even dated a few, but no one ever caught your eye as much as your bestfriend did. something about her made you tingle inside, you'd get the butterflies in your stomach even by just thinking about her, but you knew you'd never be able to tell her.
after every stressful day, you'd lay down in your bed, your gaze would shift from the wall to the window, trying to poke at every detail to entertain you. you'd shift and turn, trying to get comfortable, groaning when you couldn't find something to distract yourself with. you'd pick up your phone, scrolling through your messages, trying to find someone to talk to for entertainment.
and that's when it hit you, you saw ellie in your messages, the thought of her instantly creeping into your mind. a small smile formed with a curve on your lips, you'd sigh as you thought about her, putting your phone down as you stared at the ceiling. her being in your thoughts made your thighs rub together, you gently bit down on your bottom lip, picking at it with your teeth.
you couldn't lie to yourself, you always fantasized about ellie, thinking about all the things you'd let her do for to you. you always imagined her in between your legs, you'd yank at her hair as whimpers would escape your lips in a muffled tone. she'd always take it slow with you, making sure you'd adjust to her, she'd never wanna hurt you. she'd slide a finger into you, gently pumping it in and out of you as she swirled her tongue around your bud, making sure to be as gentle as possible. you'd whine and run your fingers through her hair, the sight of her fucking you always made you just wanna cum
you always gave in to your thoughts, everytime they got to intense, you'd gently swirl two fingers over your clit, biting down on your lip to hold back a hoarse whine, your thighs would press together when you got close, you were so very sensitive, a few flicks to your bud and you were done. you'd be a whimpering mess, making sure her name was the only word in your vocabulary in those moments. and when you were done you'd lie there, thinking as if she was the one pleasuring you. but you'd always think to yourself how much more you'd feel better if it was her and not you.
whenever you and ellie would hangout she'd throw flirty comments at you, being oblivious you never knew what she meant by the flirts, always thinking she was just being friendly. you never knew how she felt about you, you could've never imagined the fantasies she'd have, she always saw you as a pretty and delicate thing, like a porcelain doll. she always imagined how good it would feel to be the one to show you a real experience, something that your hand couldn't give you, something that only hers could.
you sighed, leaning back on ellie's couch as you watched her play a game, call of duty. you stared at the screen, smiling when she won and got all excited, you thought she was cute when the game fed her ego, and you rooted for her, giving out gentle and sweet praise to her. 'you're doing great- els.' you cooed as she got another kill. your gaze turned to her hands, she gripped the controller tightly as her fingers pressed the buttons at a quicker pace. you admired how patient she was with this game, how quick she would adjust after getting a kill, it was something you always admired about her.
'thank you ma' she'd say, smiling at you. "ma" was always a nickname she used for you, you liked it of course, it was special, something only she called you.
you'd giggle when she would call you that, a peachy tint covering your cheeks as you looked back up at the screen. "I don't understand how you're so good at this game." you'd tease, you were never really a big fan of video games, it was never something you were good at. but you enjoyed watching her play, you didn't know if it was just her being the one playing or if you actually enjoyed the game, but nonetheless you always found yourself loving watching her play.
'I'll teach you how to play one day, you'll be a natural I bet." she muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen. you looked over at you again, admiring her concentration on the game. "you got this 'els, you got this." you'd praise, the tone of your voice dripping with sweetness.
after your praise she got her last kill, winning the game before celebrating, a big 'ol grin always on her face when she'd win. she leaned back, man-spreading as she put the controller down on the couch, taking a deep breath as she looked over at you.
'do you wanna try, mama?' she asked, handing you the controller with a serious face, a smirk slightly creeping onto it.
"ellie no-" you obliged, 'I'd be humbled instantly.' I said with a nice little chuckle, pushing the controller back to ellie.
'no c'mon ma, I'll show you..' she said, her tone gentle. 'c'mere.' she whispered with a smile, patting her lap. you blushed, and you felt your eyes lightly widened, "okay.." you said with a soft smile, you sat up, crawling over to ellie. she grabbed your hips and sat you onto her lap, lightly rubbing her hands up your sides.
she handed you the controller, guiding you through the loading screen. she leaned over and whispered into your ear- 'this is the shooter..' she began explaining the "simple" instructions, you could barely focus, just the sound of her whispering in your ear and the feeling of her hands on your sides were enough to get you going. 'okay...' you mumbled, your voice lightly cracking. as you loaded in she moved her hands to yours, guiding yours on the controller, helping you get a few kills as she whispered a few praises in your ear. 'you're doing so well mama, look at you go..' she'd say, you'd bite your lip, rubbing your thighs gently together. you felt it, the same feeling, the feeling of being soaked.
after she helped you win the round she smiled, praising you more as she leaned back, her hands creeping back to your hips, rubbing them with her thumb. 'see? you're a natural.' she grinned, running her fingers over your hips, she pulled you back lightly. 'I love how easy you are to teach mama.' she whispered, her tone soft as she tried to get you to turn to face her. you smiled and turned around, facing her as you sat on her lap. 'I still hated it, it was stressing me out..' you giggled, putting a piece of hair behind your ear.
'that's okay, you don't have to play again.' ellie said, her hands now running down your thighs. 'but you did so good ma..'
god her voice.. you thought, everything she was doing made you feel amazing, the way she praised you and the way she stared at you. but oh the way she touched your thighs made you feel the best, it almost felt like she was just teasing you so she could get a reaction. but you didn't care, you got pleasure out of her touch.
you smiled at her, not saying anything as you just admired her, everything from her freckles to the details of her scars on her face. she looked up at you, her gaze softened slightly as she stared at you. 'do you know how beautiful you are, y/n?' ellie said as she lifted a piece of your hair out of your face, moving it gently as you let out a sigh. 'that's sweet, els..' you smiled, licking your lips slowly as you took a deep breath in.
'are you just gonna stare at me forever?' ellie muttered with a teasing tone, it snapped you out of your day dreaming. she giggled before putting a hand on your chin, gently pulling you in. you gasped slightly as she captured your lips in a kiss, she pulled her hand away from your chin, both hands on your hips as her gripped tightened.
you whimpered softly against her lips as her grip tightened on your hips, you put your hands on the side of her face, deepening the kiss more as the butterflies grew in your stomach.
as she kissed you she pulled her hands away from your hips, she guided them to your button up, gently unbutton-ing the buttons slowly, making sure to take her time. she pulled back for a second to slip the shirt off of your shoulders, you helped her, all with a smile on your face. you couldn't believe what was happening.
she smiled back at you, she guided a hand up to your chin again, lifting your jaw up before leaning in to kiss down your neck. she made her way to your collarbone, leaving behind pinky love marks. you let out a delicate moan as she kissed your collarbone, sucking another hickey onto it. 'wear these with pride, ma, they add to your beauty.' she whispered, her tone had a hint of playfulness as she pulled back.
'may i?' she asked, grabbing the hem of your skirt as she waited for your confirmation. 'yes, you're aloud anything..' you reassured her, you smiled as you adjusted yourself on her lap, helping her slide your skirt down your thighs.
as she got the skirt off of you she put it over on the other side of the couch where your shirt was. she turned back to you and leaned in for another kiss, taking everything slow with you. after a good minute she unlatched her lips again, she looked up at you as she made her way to the back of your bra, gently and slowly un-clipping it and guiding it off your chest. she smiled as she saw your perky breasts. 'mm so beautiful mama..' she whispered, gently putting her hands on them, fondling them. she took one finger and gently pinched at your nipple, making you let out a whimper in response. 'so responsive..' she praised, running her thumb over your nipple.
you let a few more whimpers slip as she played with your boobs, her fingers glided over your nipples before she leaned in and took one in her mouth, lightly sucking. 'mm that feels s'good els..' you'd whine, sliding a hand into her hair and gently playing with it.
with a pop she pulled away from your breast, smiling up at you as she kissed up your chest to your neck again, putting a hand on the other side of your neck. you lifted your head up, giving ellie more room as she claimed your neck, as she got closer to your ear she leaned in and whispered. 'mama, m'gonna fuck you..' her tone was smooth and it made your ears tingle, your breath hitched slightly while letting out a soft sigh. she giggled before kissing your neck again, as she was kissing up and down your neck, only leaving more hickeys she slid a hand down your thigh. you let out a gasp as you felt a hand rub at your clit, she rubbed in a harsh way as the wet spot on your panties only grew.
you let out a needy whine, gently spreading your legs more. you slid your hand back into ellie's hair once more, giving it a light tug. 'mmpph..' you moaned, slowly bucking your hips into ellie's hand. you honestly couldn't believe it, one of your fantasies actually coming true, the way she touched you so skillfully through your panties was just oh so fucking good, the way it was just as you imagined, gentle yet quick.
your thighs lightly shook as your head tilted back. she pulled away from your neck, leaning back on the couch with a lustful expression. 'gotta give you something real, princess.' she uttered as she pulled her hand back, guiding them to the hem of your underwear before slowing pulling it down your legs. you lifted yourself up slightly, helping her take them off.
she threw them to where your other clothes were with a grin, looking up at you. 'you're so beautiful..' she cooed, she leaned back again and ran a hand down your thigh. she took her ring and middle finger and gently slid them up and down your delicate folds. her touch making you squirm. she pulled her fingers back and put them in her mouth, tasting your slick, she moaned before pulling her fingers out, making sure they were really wet and ready for your cunt.
she pulled you by your hips, guiding you closer before slowly rubbing your nub with her thumb, 'you ready?' she whispered, looking up at you.
"as ready as I'll ever be..' you giggled, she smiled softly before slowly spreading your folds with her other hands, then slowly sliding the tip of her fingers into your entrance in a teasing way. you whimpered softly before she slid her full fingers into your tight sopping hole. this simple action made you moan, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip, your gummy walls lightly clenched around her fingers. she admired how your cunt swallowed them instantly, after a second she slowly pumped her fingers in and out at a weak pace, but the way they hit your sweet spot every thrust made it feel better than she thought it would.
you were messy as hell, she pumped her fingers into you, slightly increasing her pace as she whispered sweet praises into your ear. telling you how much of a good girl you were being and how well u were taking her. It made you melt, not only her voice but her touch too, you felt a pressure build up in your stomach, something you never truly felt before, and it made you glad ellie was the first person helping you feel that way.
'c'mon baby, you got this..' she'd whisper as she picked up her pace, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a more quickened rate, your walls gently pulsed at the speed changed but you adjusted quickly, gently moaning into ellie's ear as you rested your head onto her shoulder. 'm'gonna cum els, i can feel it..' you got a sentence choked out, it wasn't a cohesive one but it was good enough for these circumstances. she smiled at your words, only picking up her pace more as she rubbed her other hand up your thigh.
you couldn't help it, you lifted your head up and tilted it back with a moan, the way she was fingering you made you feel so fucking amazing. 'mmghh-- ellie..' you whined, you felt it coming, the pressure getting too good.. your eyes rolled back as your walls started to pulse, you felt it, coming down from your high as you let yourself come undone onto ellie's fingers. ellie was delighted, whispering more praise into your ear as she slowed down her pumping, after a few seconds she gently pulled her fingers out of you, licking them clean before she rubbed her hands up your thighs again, you laid your head back on her shoulder, panting heavily.
'good girl, ma, I knew you could do it..'
A/N: ahhh this is so bad but I love it so much!! writing makes me so happy and I hope this fanfiction made you happy too <3
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣��� 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
#jackson rippner x reader#jackson rippner smut#jackson rippner dark fic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#red eye fanfic
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
baby steps. l Joel Miller
Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols
Warnings: angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess
A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!
The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down.
Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.
Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.
"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.
"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.
Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"
A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."
Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?
It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better.
You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully.
The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.
You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.
After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."
"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."
The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."
Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."
"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"
The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"
He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.
"Is everything okay with you?"
Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.
"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."
"I saw. Good thoughts?"
Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly.
You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.
"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.
"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."
You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.
"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"
"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."
"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"
"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"
Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."
You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."
You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.
Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings.
Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.
"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."
"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."
"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"
"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"
"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"
And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.
When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."
Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.
"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."
"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.
"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."
But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.
"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."
That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.
"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."
No answer.
"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.
"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."
"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."
"Maybe I'm sick?"
"You don't seem to be."
And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care.
Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.
"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.
"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"
"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."
"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."
About me.
Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.
"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."
"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"
You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.
"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."
Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."
He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.
"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.
"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.
You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."
Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.
"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."
"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.
A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."
He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.
"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."
Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips.
"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."
"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"
Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.
"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."
"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.
"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."
"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."
"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."
You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."
"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.
"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."
For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.
"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.
You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."
He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out.
And then Ellie appeared.
"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."
The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.
"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."
Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.
You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.
He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.
"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.
"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.
You smiled and followed him.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
#joel miller#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader
746 notes
·
View notes
Text
campfire games
luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians
[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]
summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.
warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.
word count: 1.6k
(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)
(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)
(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)
——————————————————
there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.
campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.
clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”
“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.
“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”
you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”
she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”
with that, she left you sitting alone.
well, not really alone.
luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.
you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.
“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”
“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”
“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”
“always.” he said seriously.
you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.
luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.
“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.
you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”
he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.
you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”
you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.
andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”
“i am.”
“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”
“no, i think i’m okay.”
“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”
you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”
“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”
“i only play games with people i like.”
“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”
you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”
‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.
andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”
“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.
his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.
his hand was on your thigh.
gross.
you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.
“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.
“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.
he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.
he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”
you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”
he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”
“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”
he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”
you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.
he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.
“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“
you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.
“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”
he nodded, still hunched over.
“good boy,” you grit out.
“fucking bitch,” he grunted.
your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”
“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.
you laughed. “hey, luke?”
“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.
“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”
you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.
your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.
“what?” he asked quietly.
“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.
he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”
“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”
“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”
“good, because if you had stepped in—“
“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.
“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”
“ah, my bad.”
as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo x reader#pjo#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I been talking to a lot of ppl w cats lately (I volunteer at an animal shelter) and I didn’t know this needed to be said but
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT DECLAW YOUR CAT.
Declawing sounds very normal to people who aren’t educated on it so let me show you what it actually is.
As you might notice from the diagram, the claw is attached to a small bone at the very end of a cat’s paw. They are fused to this bone, which on a human hand would be where your last knuckle is (the one right before your nail). When someone gets a cat declawed, they aren’t just removing the claw.
The entire last digit of the cat’s paw is removed. (See below)
This severely impedes the cat’s ability to balance itself, is extremely painful for them, and can make the cat extremely aggressive because it no longer has one of its main defense mechanisms! It can also cause many other medical issues down the line including infection, necrosis, and some cats are never able to walk correctly again. Most cats that have this done never fully recover from the procedure and are in constant chronic pain.
It is extremely inhumane and is illegal in only two states at the time I’m writing this!!!! (Maryland and New York) Cats should only have this procedure if it is a life or death situation, never just because someone finds a cat being a cat inconvenient for them. Don’t get a cat if you don’t want to be scratched or have some ruined furniture. If you want more information on this topic, I’d recommend Jackson Galaxy’s YouTube video on it, and to read up on some articles I will link in the comments.
I know I don’t usually post about these types of things, but it’s made me extremely angry to hear people mention getting their cats declawed so flippantly as if it doesn’t ruin the cat’s life, and always for an asinine reason like “they scratched my couch” or “they scratch my kids” THOSE ARE YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES AS A CAT OWNER. Treat your kids and peers to treat animals with respect, or don’t get a cat.
#so sorry followers I’m just so upset about it#I want to strangle every rich white woman that comes in and laughs about mutilating their cat’s paws#or bragging about how they couldn’t find any vet willing to do it#if you didn’t know#you didn’t know. but you know now so dont ever let it happen again#pets#cat#cat info#pet information#animals#important#very important#medical procedure
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Mother's Day Surprise {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.4k
Warnings: Menstrual blood/cramping, violent attack, near death, surgery, comma, mentions of blood and disturbing scenes, recovery, assistance with basic needs, helping Joel shower, confessions of feelings, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, mentions of family planning, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, infertility, depression, feelings of worthlessness, death, harsh and cruel world, babies
Comments: Helping Joel Miller recover from a horrific attack leads to a life you never knew possible.
**🚨🚨 Contains spoilers for Season 2 of The Last of Us🚨🚨**
A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all those lovely moms out there and anyone wishing to become one in the future. Being a mom doesn't necessarily mean biologically. 💜
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
You grunt, squinting as you struggle to see in the dark. It's the middle of the night, the sun not yet peeking through the curtains, and you wonder why you woke up until your stomach twists and you realize you're wet between your thighs. "No. No. No. No." You cry, tears in your eyes as you scramble out of bed and rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You shove your shorts down and sob at the blood that's gathered there. You got your period. Again. You sit down on the toilet and gather some paper to clean yourself up while you try to smother your cries but there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice resonates through it, "are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks and you choke out, "the bed." Joel walks over to turn the lamp on, his eyes widening at the blood on the sheets. "Oh sweetheart." He sighs, resting his forehead against the door frame. "I'm sorry, baby. I - I am useless." You sob and he rattles the door handle, "let me in." He demands and you flush the toilet, washing your hands before you open the door. Joel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "We will try again." He promises, "I didn't give up when I was recovering and we won't give up now." He assures you while you sob into his chest.
He sighs, not even going to deny his own disappointment, although people who used to know him in the Boston QZ would never believe it. Joel Miller, disappointed that you aren’t pregnant. The very obvious sign of his seed not taking root staining the sheets of the bed you share. He shouldn’t want a child. He’s closer to fucking sixty years old than not, just a few years shy and yet he finds himself wanting to see you round with his child. His second child by blood, his third in his heart. Ellie is staying with Dina tonight, so he doesn’t have to worry about waking her up as your sobs wrack your body. “You aren’t useless.” He soothes, frowning when he remembers your emotional words. Standing in the bathroom, he wishes there was something that he could do, fertility doctors from twenty plus years ago were a thing of the past. Most people do not want to bring children into this fungi infested world, but here in Jackson, he has hope for the future. Hope for a chance to pass on a legacy.
You cling to him, knowing he's disappointed. Lord knows you've been trying enough but you just can't seem to get pregnant. It's like you are cursed and you wonder if Joel's injuries hurt your chances.
****
You gasp when you look up to see a mangled man carried into the hospital. You set your cup of coffee down and stand up, the resident doctor rushing around to try and stop the bleeding. "What the hell?" You ask and a teenage girl is clinging to his hand as the team try to wheel him into the surgery room. "Joel. Joel. Don't leave me." She pleads, tears in her eyes, and you reach for her. "He's in good hands, sweetheart. Come here. Let the doctor work." You manage to drag her away and she wraps her arms around you and sobs, "I didn't know - she nearly - they nearly- it's all my fault." She chokes and you rub her back, frowning at the doors where the man disappeared.
Hours later, the door swings open and the doctor comes back through, his work scrubs stained with blood. Ellie had been impatiently sitting and leaps out of her seat. “Is he alive? Where is he? I want to see him.” She demands, making the doctor lift his hands slightly. “He’s alive.” He reassures her, making her tense shoulders slump with relief and tears prick her eyes. “There was massive trauma to the head, and-“ Ellie interrupts him. “Of course there is, that bitch tried to beat him to death with a fucking golf club.”
Your eyes widen at the news that he was nearly beaten to death. You wrap your arm around Ellie’s shoulder. She had rambled about how Joel saved her, how much she loves him, how he’s the father she never had. Her words made your heart melt and you silently prayed he pulled through. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery. For now, we will monitor him and see if he pulls through the night. It’s touch and go still.” The doctor warns Ellie who nods, “he will pull through. Joel is a stubborn fucker.” You chuckle and rub her upper arm, “let’s get you something to eat and a shower and we can come back when he’s settled in a room.” You suggest and she’s reluctant to leave but the doctor nods, “he’s unconscious. Will be for a few days at least. His body needs rest. Go get some food and he will be waiting for you.” Ellie nods and lets you guide her to your house. Her home needs to be cleaned up and you don’t want her to see the aftermath of the battle that occurred in her home.
Joel had put up a fight. Furniture is broken, the mirror in the hallway - one he had grumbled about every day when it showed him how old he is - is shattered. Shards of glass and spurts of blood splash the walls. Ellie grimaces and stops at the blood stain on the floor right by the open front door. Obviously no one had cared about closing up the house when rushing Joel off to the hospital. “Right.” She sighs, turning when she hears someone running towards her. “Ellie! Fuck, is Joel alright?” Breathless, Tommy stops in front of the teenager and his face almost begs her to tell him that his older brother is okay. “I tracked her, but she got away.” He explains; that being the reason he wasn’t at the hospital earlier. “She went to the river and I couldn’t track her from there.”
Ellie straightens her back, shaking her head, “that fucking bitch.” She growls and you answer Tommy’s question. “Joel had surgery. He’s unconscious right now. Still in the air as to him waking up without brain damage. The doctor did the best he could but it…it was bad.” You admit and Tommy closes his eyes, needing to see his brother. “I need to see him.” He says and you nod, “he’s unconscious still. I’m going to get Ellie changed and get her something to eat.” You tell Tommy who reaches out to squeeze Ellie’s shoulder. “Get something to eat, kid. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Tommy promises and Ellie doesn’t say anything else, going quiet. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
You nod, “go clean up. I’ll get started on trying to clean this up.” You tell her and she makes her way upstairs. You sigh, looking over at the pool of blood and you feel sick. You’ve always had a crush on the older Miller brother since he arrived at Jackson, but you’re certain he doesn’t even know you exist.
****
You check Joel’s pulse, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He’s still unconscious, has been for a few days, and the hospital isn’t equipped with equipment to test brain function. All you can do is watch and wait to see if he will wake up.
Joel hurts, every inch of his body hurts and it feels like he’s trying to move mountains just to open his eyes. Fingers twitching and he opens his mouth, groaning quietly.
You gasp when you hear him groan, watching his eyes flutter, and you let go of his wrist, calling for the doctor. The doctor comes in and you gesture to Joel, “he is waking up.” The doctor nods, checking Joel over, his bandages wrapped around his head, and they had to shave his head to perform the surgery. You wonder if he will be angry about losing his hair. Ellie is in the waiting room so you head out to see her. “He’s awake.” You tell her and she stands up, “he is. I want to see him.” You shake your head, “the doctor is checking him over. Let’s give them some time.”
It takes a long time to understand what the doctors are telling him, frowning in confusion and wondering why his head feels like it’s been squashed like a grape. Moving is slower and he hisses in pain when he learns that his ribs have been broken and his leg is also fractured. Opening his mouth, it’s hard to get a word out. “E-E-El-Ellie.” He manages, needing to see her.
The doctor nods, “she’s okay.” You escort Ellie into the room, wanting her to see her father is awake, and she rushes over to the bed. “Joel. Joel. I’m sorry.” Ellie chokes, reaching for his hand. He groans as he squeezes her hand, silently assured that she’s okay.” You watch their reunion with tears in your eyes from the doorway.
“D-d-don’t bl-ame y-your-self.” Joel rasps out, still fuzzy on what happened. He doesn’t remember anything much before waking up in the hospital. Although he gets the sense he was angry- desperate. He groans in pain when she lunges forward to hug him, but he doesn’t push her away.
You watch Ellie hug him and you know in that moment you’ll do whatever you can do to make sure Joel gets better. Ellie pulls back after several moments and the doctor checks Joel’s vitals. “He needs some more time here so we can observe him.” Ellie nods at the doctor’s words and you walk over to rub her back.
“I’m going be honest, Mr. Miller,” the doctor tells him as he pulls back. “I am surprised that you even woke up. There was significant bleeding and swelling of the brain. Tests seem positive but there could be damage that hasn’t manifested itself yet.” He tells Joel. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery for you.”
Joel doesn’t say anything. He was nearly murdered. He knows he shouldn’t be alive right now. Ellie sniffs as she steps back and Joel attempts to squeeze her hand. The doctor grabs his clipboard and looks at Joel’s recent vitals. “Waking up was half the struggle. Let’s monitor you and go from there.” The doctor says, “and we will keep running tests.” Joel grunts out an “okay” and you offer him a smile, “you’re a fighter just like Ellie said. She’s lucky to have you.”
You’re familiar to him, he can’t place it, but his thoughts are still fuzzy and jumbled. “How- how long have I been here?” He asks after a moment. “Three days.” Ellie answers and he frowns. “Who- where have you been sleeping?”
Ellie says your name, “I have been staying in her house. She has been cleaning our house because there was too much blood and - and it was a mess.” Ellie reveals and Joel’s eyes are hazy as they meet yours, silently saying goodbye thank you and you nod in response. “Just focus on getting better, Ellie and I are enjoying some girl time.” You tease, winking at Ellie who chuckles.
****
Joel stays in hospital for two weeks and you look after Ellie, preparing his home for his return, and when the doctor declares him fit to leave, he says that he needs someone to look after him. He still can’t shower by himself, he needs help eating and he struggles to walk alone. It’s going to be a long recovery for Joel. “I can help,” Ellie says without hesitation as Joel sits on the edge of the bed.
“You can’t help me do everything.” Joel grunts, knowing that he could never allow the teenage girl to help him shower or get to fucking bathroom. “I- Tommy-“ his brother has been by to visit every day, and he’s talked to him about taking Ellie. He doesn’t know how he will manage, but he also knows he can’t burden Maria and their baby with his convalesce.
“Tommy is out of town on a scouting mission.” Ellie says, knowing Joel’s brother was set on revenge for his brother’s condition. He just had to track Abby down. “I can help.” You volunteer, feeling close to him despite not having a full conversation with him. Spending time with Ellie, hearing her stories about Joel and his bravery had made you fond of him. “I can help him at home.” You offer and the doctor looks to Joel for his answer.
His eyes slide to you, unsure why you would volunteer to help him, but the doctor immediately nods. “That would be a good idea.” He agrees. “You can check his bandages and make sure that he doesn’t get an infection.” He smiles at the three of you like it’s a done deal and Joel frowns slightly, not sure if he likes the idea of you helping him.
You nod, noticing Ellie’s grateful smile, and you look at Joel, “it’s for the best. I can monitor your health and help you. I’m a nurse. It’s a medical decision.” You tell him and he grunts, knowing he doesn’t have a choice. He’s discharged and you wheel him to the doctor’s truck, knowing Joel won’t be able to walk home. You arrive outside of the house and Joel grunts, “I can walk.” He doesn’t want a wheelchair so you let him wrap his arm around you to guide him into the house. “Take your time.” You reassure him, “no need to rush.”
The shuffle is slow and painful, making him huff in irritation that he can’t move like he would want to. Even as he’s gotten older and been slower, he’s been able to move how he wanted to. Now, in a cast and recovering from nearly dying, he needs help. Ellie jumps forward to open the door and he’s glad to see that the scene that had been left from the attack you told him about has been cleaned away. He will have to thank you for that. “Fuck.” He pants, out of breath and in pain just because of the short walk from the truck to the house. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m getting upstairs.”
“We moved a bed downstairs.” You tell him, “you won’t be going upstairs for a while.” You escort him into the living room and help him settle down on the bed. He’s only wearing socks so he groans as he sits down and you help him lay on the bed. “You need to rest as much as possible. Let me get you some water. Are you hungry?” You ask, helping him settle against the pillows.
“Can you cook better than the shit they served at the hospital?” He grumbles, having not enjoyed the food there. He’s relieved to be home and his head hurts a little bit less today than before. He’s got a plate covering the fractured portion of his skull and they actually had to remove a large chunk of the bone.
You chuckle, “I like to think so. I’m glad your appetite is back. What do you feel like? I make a mean mac and cheese.” You adjust his pillow and Ellie comes to sit down next to him. “She’s a really good cook. Like really good. I’ve been helping make cheese and we even made a cake.” She tells Joel with wide eyes, shocked at how this place is like life in books she read.
“Sure.” Joel agrees, the little fissure of pain at the mention of a cake isn’t as rough as it might once have been. The last night she had been alive, Sarah had wanted a cake desperately for Joel’s birthday. “Make something the kid likes.” He suggests. “I eat anything.”
You smile, liking how he caters to Ellie, and you know that Ellie told the truth about the man she considers a father. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You ask her and she nods, “Mac and cheese.” You ask if she wants to help you while Joel gets settled in and Ellie follows you into the kitchen so you can get started on the food and you pour Joel a glass of water. “You want to take this to Joel?” You ask Ellie who takes the glass and takes it to her father figure.
Joel listens to the sound of people talking in the kitchen and it’s so strange. He can’t make out what’s being said, but he can hear voices. It’s almost unsettling that there is someone else in the safe, cozy home that he and Ellie have managed to carve out for themselves. Tommy told him that Abby, the girl who had attacked him, was the daughter of the doctor he had killed to save Ellie. His past sins were coming back to haunt him, but he doesn’t regret not letting the teen sacrifice herself for a lost cause.
Ellie comes back out to hand Joel the glass of water and he takes it, taking a sip. “Thanks, kid.” He says and she sits down at the edge of his bed. “I- I thought I was gonna lose you.” She whispers, her brown eyes meeting his, “I was scared.” She admits and Joel feels his chest tighten, tears stinging in his eyes. “But you didn’t. I survived and I ain’t going anywhere, kid.” He promises, reaching out to squeeze her hand with his free one. “She been looking after you?” He asks her, jerking his chin towards the kitchen. “Yeah. She’s been great. She cleaned this place up. Made sure I ate and showered and slept while worrying like fuck about you. She’s a good one.” Ellie says and Joel trusts her opinion. You hear what Ellie says from around the corner, some homemade chips in a bowl in your hand and you smile, liking that she trusts you. You carry the bowl in and set it down , “hope these are good. We fried them earlier today.” You say, looking between Ellie and Joel.
Joel’s brow raises and he nods. “Thanks.” It hurts to nod so he just sends you his thanks with his eyes. “For taking care of her and me now, I guess.” He sips the water and grunts when the cool liquid slides down his throat to quench his thirst. “I’m sorry for all the cursing I will be doing.” He warns you, knowing he’s never been a good patient.
You chuckle, “curse away. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” You promise and make your way back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. It’s going to be a long path of recovery but you’re happy to help Joel get back on his feet.
****
“Shit.” Joel hisses as you help him into the downstairs bathroom to shower. “Do you, uh, I can help take off your pants.” You offer, cheeks burning as you try and help him shower for the first time since he left the hospital.
Joel isn’t a shy man, never has been, but the idea that you have to help him bathe like he is a helpless baby makes him burn with embarrassment. There’s not a goddamn thing he can do about it though, his body is still healing and he can’t get his head wet because of the stitches and staples. “Fuck.” He grunt, hoping he doesn’t really embarrass himself. The fact that he’s not gotten an erection since he’s woken up makes him wonder if something is wrong with that function. “Fuck, what the hell else am I going to do? Shower with my fuckin’ clothes on?”
You shake your head, “no. I- I have to help. I’m a nurse. I am a professional.” You tell him even though that doesn’t hold much weight in today’s world. “Let me help you.” You reach in to turn on the water to heat it up and you reach for Joel’s shirt. “Keep still.” You murmur, working the buttons open. He probably prefers t-shirts but the button down is required so he doesn’t jostle his head. He is still weak so he lets you push the shirt off of his shoulders. “Pants next.” You declare and hook your fingers in the sweatpants, dragging them down his legs and he’s naked under them so it's easier for him to use the bathroom. He steps out of them and you try not to appraise his naked form. He’s still healing but he’s gorgeous.
“Sorry.” He huffs, knowing that the last thing you want to do is to help an old man bathe, his still bruised body on display. Luckily, there were still medical supply devices like a chair to sit in the shower to make it easier for him, although he knows you will get wet helping him. His dormant cock twitches slightly and his eyes widen at the sensation.
You focus on looking after him and not on his body, which even though bruised, is still beautiful. You know your clothes will get soaked but that’s okay, you don’t want to strip off and make him uncomfortable so you step into the shower and help him sit down on the chair. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the soap you made last week and hold it out. “You want to do it or shall I?” You ask, knowing you’ll need to wash his face so he doesn’t get his head wet.
He hates to admit that he’s so damn tired after getting into the shower, he just wants you to do it. Grunting, he shakes his head slightly and winces when he feels a little pain. “Just do it.” He tells you, not wanting this to become some kind of pissing match. “Feel like a damn baby.”
You nod, “I understand but this is the best thing for you, honey. You need to focus on healing. You nearly died so being showered isn’t the worst thing in the world.” You put it in perspective for him. You lather up your hands and work on washing his back. He groans and your stomach twists with forbidden arousal. He’s injured, recovering, you shouldn’t feel attracted to him.
“Does it hurt?” Your soft question is almost arousing, murmuring in his ear but he grunts. “No.” His voice comes out raspy and raw. “Feels good.” He’s still so damn sore and your hands on his skin feels like a massage. “It’s feeling really good.”
You continue working on washing him, mindful of his bruises. “Good.” You murmur, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You say as you massage the soap into his black and blue back. “Tommy tried to find them but they were gone.” You reveal, “they are gone.”
“It’s my fault.” Joel murmurs quietly, closing his eyes and trying to forget the moment he had killed that doctor, but it plays behind his lids. “How could you deserve something like this?” You snort, but he sighs softly. “I killed her father.” He reveals. “He was a doctor, for the Fireflies. They believed Ellie was the answer to a cure.” He opens his eyes, frowning. “They were going to remove her brain.”
You gasp, your hands freezing on his back. "They - does she know?" You whisper and Joel shakes his head. "She can't." You declare, having gotten to know Ellie enough to know that she would sacrifice herself. He nods, "I can't - I lied to her. I can't lose her." He confesses and you rub his back, "you won't. Secret's safe with me." You promise, "you didn't deserve this, Joel. No one does. This world...it's cruel but we have our little piece of paradise here. We just gotta protect it."
Even though he knows it would never absolve him of his sins, your words are a balm to his spirit. Soothing him and making him relax even more. “It’s nice here.” He murmurs softly. “Sarah would love it here.”
Ellie had briefly discussed the daughter that Joel lost on Outbreak Day and you rub his shoulders, “we are lucky. Not QZ, not the Wild West. We are safe and our commune is thriving.” You hum, “Ellie is lucky to have you.” You murmur and he hisses when you press a little too hard, “I’m sorry.” You grab the rag and lather it up, “you, uh, want to wash your -” Your cheeks heat up at the thought and he takes the rag without a word.
Joel washes his groin quickly, gritting his teeth when his long neglected cock starts to stir from the simple touch and the smell of your soap. He has noticed it every time he gets your help to use the bathroom and he is now covered in it. “Help me.” He grunts, trying to push to his feet so he can wash his ass.
You wrap your arms under his armpits, helping him stand and he grunts as he washes his ass. When he’s done, you rinse him off and shut off the water, grabbing the towel around his waist. “You good?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. Just feel like a fucking baby.” You chuckle, “at least you don’t need breastfeeding.”
“Fuck.” He huffs and blurts out, “that would be more fun,” before he even realizes how inappropriate it would be. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He grunts, blushing slightly.
You snort and smile, “I think we are beyond apologies now, huh?” You say, knowing you’ve helped him to the bathroom and now helped him shower. “Let’s get you redressed and I’ll heat up the soup I made earlier for you.” You tell him and grab the clean clothes you set aside for him.
His bedroom is what used to be the downstairs office. It’s got some doors for privacy, but more often than not, they are kept open until he needs to change. It makes it easier. “I didn’t ask, how do you like that bed?” His bedroom upstairs had become yours since they had broken down the smaller bed from the third bedroom. Joel wouldn’t let you sleep on the couch, telling you he could piss in a bottle in the middle of the night if he needed to. You deserved to sleep in a real bed for helping him.
“It’s good. Nice and comfy. I have no complaints.” You tell him, knowing your roommate, Sandra, will be enjoying the peace and quiet on her own in your house. “I hope it’s comfortable here.” You help him pull the shirt over his head and you kneel down so he can step into the sweatpants.
“It’s a bed.” He’s going to be uncomfortable regardless of where he is because of how badly he had been beaten. The only reason he’s alive is because she had started swinging on other parts of his body besides the head. “I think I’ll appreciate it more when I can move without wanting to cry.”
“Not too long now. You’ve overcome the worst. You’ll get there in the end.” You promise him, “you’ll get better. Ellie needs you.” You pull the sweatpants up and stand up, patting his chest. “All clean.” You smile and guide him to sit on the bed. You swing his legs onto the bed and stand up, “I’ll go get your soup, Miller.”
He watches you go, his eyes dropping down to your ass, not for the first time either. This time though, there is a punch of lust that his body responds to. Making him grunt and reach down to adjust himself slightly. You are beautiful and now that he has spent time with you, he can see why Tommy called him a lucky bastard.
****
You spend eight weeks looking after Joel. Helping him bathe until he can manage himself, feeding him, making sure he has water. It’s your priority and you are so happy he’s recovering well. He can walk properly now and the bruises have faded. “You want some cake?” You ask Joel as he walks into the kitchen where Ellie is trying to lick the spoon of the jam you made to go in the sponge cake.
“God, yes.” Joel groans, the irony of cake not being lost on him. You have been positively spoiling him and Ellie and he hates to think about when you will leave. He’s getting better and it’s about time you go back to your own life. “Are we doing a shower tonight?” The stitches are out, but he still has staples and needs help in the shower.
You nod, “yes, sir. Gotta make sure you avoid a nasty infection. We don’t have any oral antibiotics left.” You sigh, knowing that even if someone found some, they’d be expired. You and Ellie put the cake together and you cut out a slice for each of you. Setting the plate down in front of Joel, you love the way he smiles at you. It’s been impossible to keep your affection for him at bay. You’ve fallen for him, knowing that you will have to return home at some point but the grumpy yet funny man has gotten into your heart.
“Thanks.” He sends you a grateful look and sets his elbows on the table as he waits for you to sit down. “It smells incredible. You seem to enjoy cooking, or is it just something you do because you know Ellie can’t?” He teases, making the teenager huff and roll her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve had a chance to learn, man.”
You giggle and nudge Ellie, “you’ve been learning. You’ll get there. No, I, uh, I love cooking. Always have.” You admit, “I missed it a lot when I was on the outside. Cooking rabbit on a fire isn’t quite the same as cooking in a warm kitchen.” You sigh, forking up a bite of the cake.
“Yeah, campfires are temperamental, and cooking on them is even worse.” He snorts. Ellie chuckles. “When you would let us have them.” Joel shrugs slightly. “It’s dangerous out there.” He reminds her. “Hell, it’s dangerous in here too, but it’s better than out there.” He glances towards the entryway where he had collapsed when Abby nearly beat him to death.
You notice his glance and you realize once again how close to death he was. “You’re here now. Hopefully you don’t have to go back out there anytime soon.” You reach out to squeeze Joel’s hand and he smiles at you, his fork in his other hand, “you are safe for now.”
You have been incredible, and it’s almost amazing to see how you have slipped past the shell of his heart, something that only Ellie has managed since Tess. It’s hard to believe Tess has been gone as long as she has, but Joel has been slowly trying to heal emotionally as he heals physically. Thoughts of you have crept into his waking hours, causing some embarrassing moments in the showers when he gets hard, or you wake him up from an erotic dream that features you.
****
“So, the doctor gave you the all clear. Just to be careful and not do too much.” You smile at Joel as you enter the living room after the doctor left. He had done a full assessment of Joel and called his surgery a miracle - the fact that he survived is a gift from God. Ellie is out visiting Dina and you sit down next to Joel on the sofa, “I guess I can get out of your hair now. You can have your bed back and I’ll go back to my place.” You finish softly, sad to be leaving him.
Joel wipes his hands on his sweatpants, still wearing them out of habit over the past few months. “You’re probably happy as hell to be getting away.” He snorts as he looks over at you and wonders how you have become even prettier than before. He’s crazy about you, how kind you are, how you have taken Ellie under your wing and how you never rebuke him for when he gets sad and introspective. You have helped so much and he hates that you are leaving. “Maybe I need to get the shit beat out of me again, make you stick around.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. "No need to do that. All you have to do is ask me to stay and I would." You confess and your eyes widen at the way you blurted that out. You close your mouth, turning your head to stare across the room, avoiding those dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry. I-" You begin but he interrupts you. "Stay." You turn your head to look at him again, "what? You - you want me to stay?" You ask, feeling breathless.
He rolls his eyes at your question and huffs. “Do you think that I’m getting hard every time you help me shower because getting clean turns me on?” He asks bluntly. “I’ve been trying to think about anything else but you, but nothing works.”
You stare at him in shock, “I- I can’t believe - I just thought you were horny because you couldn’t jerk off.” You snort and close your eyes for a second. “I think about you. All the time.” You admit, reaching for his hand, “I had a crush on you before I came to help.” You tell him honestly, “always thought you were handsome, but now that I know you? You’re - fuck, I love you.” You confess just as breathless as your prior revelation.
His own breath stops, caught in his chest as you confess your feelings. A year ago, hell - a few months ago, he would have been denying that you felt that way. Ignoring it or being unable to respond in kind because his world was still ground to a halt, but that had changed. You and Ellie, that attack, it had changed things and made him realize that even though he had lost so many, he still had those to live for. He lunges forward and presses his lips to yours. “Love you too.” He murmurs as you gasp.
You can’t believe he’s kissing you but you reach up to cup his cheek, pressing your lips back to his, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You shift closer, cupping his other cheek and you rest your forehead against his when you pull back, caressing his stubbled cheeks. “I love you, Miller.” You smile, unable to fathom that the man you’ve fallen for loves you too.
He's panting and his heart is beating wildly in his chest. Already turned on again and starting to tent his sweats and all you've done is shared one kiss. Reaching up, he caresses your neck and shoulder. "Are you sure? I'm fuckin' old, baby." He jokes. "And a little decrepit."
You shake your head, "you're not decrepit. Or too old. I love you, Joel. No matter what. Hell, if I can look after you like I have and still think you are sexy, you're good to go." You promise with a giggle, sliding your hands down to his chest. "And I haven't stopped thinking about you between my thighs. Inside of me." You confess in a hushed tone.
The kid is off with her friend and Joel groans quietly, having thought of nothing else for the past few days. "I don't know if I can perform worth a shit." He admits with a shake of his head. "Haven't cum since I woke up."
"I don't care. Just want to be close to you." You murmur, "don't care if you cum right away. I can ride you." You want to be close to him, to feel all of him. "I keep thinking about how you'd feel inside of me."
He's still in his downstairs bedroom and he nudges his nose against yours. "Close the doors." He rasps out, nodding towards the French doors that close off his makeshift space. "I don't want to tire myself out trying to get upstairs."
You stand up, hands shaky as you shut the doors and turn to face him. You take in the details of his face, his head shaved from his surgery so his hair is growing back patchy but he’s still so attractive. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and you swiftly remove your bra. Hooking your fingers in your leggings, you push them down along with your panties to stand naked in front of him. “I’ve seen yours, figured it’s only fair if you see mine.”
"It gets bigger." He jokes, aware that you have seen and politely ignored the times he's gotten hard from you helping him in the shower. "Fuck, you are beautiful." He praises breathlessly, eyes drinking in your body as he licks his lips. It's been a long goddamn time since he's been with someone, the last person was Tess, but he feels like he's about to bust if he doesn't touch you.
“So are you.” You respond as you walk towards him. “So brave. A fucking fighter.” You murmur, shifting to straddle him as he sits back on the bed. His hands immediately find your ass and you chuckle, knowing he’s watched it enough times. You cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss him, “wanna see if it gets bigger.” You joke, grinding down onto the tent in his sweats.
Joel groans, twitching underneath you and he knows he won’t have any problem performing. The problem might be that he doesn’t please you before he cums. His hand slides around your waist to dip between your thighs. Hissing when he finds you starting to get slick as he starts to slowly rub your clit.
“Oh God.” You pant, rocking down onto his hand. It’s been far too long since anyone touched you and you are whimpering at the way his thick fingers rub your bundle of nerves. You tilt your head back and he leans in to kiss along your neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you absorb every touch.
He groans as he learns your body. He and Tess had been comfortable, completely familiar with each other and what the other liked. The whimpers and groans rockets his arousal higher as you grind down against his fingers and he feels like he’s going to bust in his sweats. Turning his wrist, he presses his thumb against your clit and slides his fingers through your slick folds so he can press them inside you.
“I want to touch you.” You whimper and he shakes his head, “not yet. Otherwise this will be over sooner than you thought.” He grunts and you rock onto his thick fingers, stretching you out in the most delicious way. “Fuckkkk.” You exhale as he presses his finger against that spongy spot inside of you. He’s good. He knows what he’s doing.
He loves the way you respond to him, how wet you get. Sliding his hand up and down your back as he kisses along your shoulder and down to your tit. Wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your wet heat.
“Shit.” You hiss, caressing his head as he suckles on your nipple like he’s trying to root. It has you quivering and you’re so close. So many nights of imagining how he’d touch you has led to you getting worked up faster than you have ever known. “Joel. Oh God, Joel. You’re gonna make me - I’m gonna-” You don’t finish your cry as you cut yourself off with a strangler choke and clamp down on his digits, soaking them with your cum.
“That’s it, fuck, good girl.” Joel pants against your breast as he pumps his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm. “You’re so goddamn good to me, ain’t ya? You creamin’ all over my fingers, making me harder than a fucking rock.” He coos praises into your skin, enjoying the way your nails bite into his shoulder through the shirt. Your pretty cunt soaked his fingers and he can only imagine how good you will feel around his cock.
His words make you choke on your breath as he works you through your orgasm. You never imagined he’d be so dirty but you love it. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I need - I need you inside of me but I want to suck your cock.” You whine, reaching down to tug on the hem of his shirt, wanting him naked beneath you.
“You can’t.” Joel moans, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t last a minute. And I want to feel you, fuck, imagined it so many times.” He pants, pulling away from the back of the bed so you can pull his shirt off. “Maybe- later, if I can get it up again.” He chuckles.
You pull his shirt over his head, still mindful of his injuries, and you slide your hands down his chest, admiring his broadness. “You’re so sexy.” You murmur, reaching down to pull his cock out of his sweatpants, wanting to see him in this light. You’ve seen his cock plenty of times but now you know he’s hard for you and it’s intoxicating. You pump him and he groans out a warning so you shift to lift your hips, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.
“Fuuuuuuuuck.” His hands grip your hips harshly and he clenches his jaw as you take him. You are hot and tight like a glove around his cock, clenching around him as your walls flutter. Your ass presses against his thighs and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s - fuck, gimme a minute.” He begs, feeling like he’s about to cum. “Let me- calm down.”
You nod, stilling on top of him, and you caress his chest. He exhales shakily and you lean in to kiss him, “take your time, baby. I’m in no rush.” You promise and kiss along his jaw, loving how he stretches you out.
It’s been so long since he’s felt this close to anyone, your breath blows against his skin and he shivers. Closing his eyes as he holds you still. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs quietly, aware that this is something that he shouldn’t even have, he should have died. But he’s here and he’s going to live for the moment and bask in the forgiveness of your touch.
You close your eyes at his words, loving how he caresses you, and you tilt your head to look at him. “I love you too. You’re so much more than you think you are.” You murmur, caressing his cheek, and you experimentally rock your hips. His groan makes your stomach clench and you rock again, starting slow as he moves inside of you.
“Shit.” He hisses quietly, opening his eyes to watch as you start to move. “You’re so pretty, so fuckin’ pretty.” He promises as he starts to slide his hands up and down your back. “You feel so good, does it feel good for you?”
His words make your heart pound in your chest and you nod, “feels so good. You feel so damn big inside of me.” You confess breathlessly, “stretching me out. It’s been so long since I had sex. You need to- to pull out so tell me if you’re close.” You remind him, not wanting an accidental pregnancy right now.
Joel grunts, looking into your eyes as he nods. “I will.” He promises. Safe sex isn’t really a thing to be had but hopefully there’s not something to come of this. You are right to remind him. “I’m good baby, ride me.”
You take his word and start to move faster. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you start to move on top of him, moaning at the way he twitches inside of you. "Fuck, you feel so good." You pant, chest heaving as his cock curves just right inside of you.
Joel grunts and leans forward to press his lips to yours, biting your bottom lip after he kisses you. Your breasts brush against his chest and he pulls you closer, craving the feel of your skin against his.
You moan into his mouth, loving how strong her feels, how he’s recovered and he’s stronger for it mentally. You rock down onto his cock, loving the way he twitches inside of you, and you are getting close. Just the feel of having the man you love inside of you is pushing you higher. “Oh shit.” You whimper when you find the right spot and you reach down to rub your clit, pushing yourself closer to the edge.
“That’s it pretty girl, making yourself cum.” Joel groans, watching you touch yourself with dark eyes. It’s so sexy and he can’t get enough of it. “Make yourself cum on my cock. I want to feel it, see it. Show me what you look like.”
You nod, mouth open as you work yourself higher until you finally fall over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as you cum, moaning his name and you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while your orgasm rocks through you.
His eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels you squeezing him and he knows he will be cumming any second. “Sweethea-rt, you gotta-“ he grits his teeth as he jerks your body up off his cock so he can keep his promise to you, panting as he spurts all over his stomach and chest.
You watch him as he cums and you love it. The way he looks is intoxicating and you lean in to kiss him. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him as he pants your name.
He kisses you back eagerly, reaching for his shirt to wipe away the mess so you can lean against him. “Fuck, that was- I can’t even-“ he chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “What do you think about moving in permanently?”
You smile as he looks at you, his dark eyes soft, and you cup his cheeks. “Yes. Absolutely.” Your smile turns into a grin, excited to explore this next step with Joel. “I was dreading going home and I would miss you and Ellie like crazy.” You confess, “I want to stay.”
“Good.” He pauses for a moment and then he admits, “it’s felt like a proper home with you here. Ellie, she loves you too.” He tells you softly. “I think she imagines we are a family.”
“I imagine that too. She’s like a daughter to me.” You confess, “I want to make this a home and I want to be yours. Be in your bed every night. Be by your side no matter what.” You promise and Joel smiles, cupping your cheek, “sounds amazing, baby.”
****
“Joel.” You say his name as he takes a sip of whiskey. Ellie is watching a movie with the other kids in the barn and you decided to cook a romantic dinner for Joel, wanting to ask him something. He looks at you and you tilt your head, appraising him. You pick up your glass and take a sip, your throat suddenly dry. “Everything okay, baby?” He asks and you nod, squaring your shoulders. “I want a baby.” You announce, bracing yourself for him to say no.
Joel freezes, waiting for the familiar ache to take over his chest. For this vision to blur and his breathing to turn into short bursts as thoughts of Sarah take over. As the sounds of her rapid, panicked last breaths fill his ears. It never comes.
He doesn’t panic at the thought of having a child that could remind him of Sarah. Ellie does in some ways, but she’s a completely different type of girl. One raised in the world outside the safety of the walls of Jackson. If you had a child here, they would be innocent in some ways Ellie was not, more like Sarah. “A baby, huh?” He murmurs after a moment. “With me?” He asks. “I’m nearly sixty, baby. You want that?”
You sense his hesitation and you feel like backtracking but you think about the nights you’ve spent awake pondering this, weighing the pros and cons of having his baby in this world. You reach for his hand, “I know and I still want it. Spending time with Ellie, helping with your nephew, it’s made me realize that I can do it. It’s hard, always hard being a mother, but I’m ready and I want a baby. I want a baby that will carry our legacy, a baby that will grow up safe and capable. We will make sure of it. Unless you don’t want that, which is - it’s fine. I’ll handle your decision. We both have to want this, Joel. Not just me. Don’t do it for me. I want you to want this too and if you don’t, then that’s case closed.” You promise, not wanting to pressure him.
Joel squeezes your hand gently, reminded of the nights he had woken in a cold sweat, sometimes from the broken memories of him being attacked or the memory of losing Sarah. You have been right beside him, offering him comfort and solace. He’s told you about that night, sharing with you memories that he has kept bottled for over twenty years. You had cried in his arms like you had been Sarah’s mother, assuring him that he had done everything right to try to protect his baby girl. The fact that he’s not immediately said no is very insightful and he bites his lip and watches you with a softness that even a year ago, he was unsure he was capable of. “It’s been a looooong time since 2 AM feedings and my hearing is shot.” He snorts, smiling slightly. “You’ll have to poke me to wake me up if you want me to get up with a baby.”
You smile, loving the way he has agreed to having a baby with you. “You’re forgetting the best part about deciding to have a baby….” You trail off and smirk, “the trying.” He returns your smirk and you giggle, standing up from your seat and you round the table to sit in his lap. “I love you.” You murmur when you’re settled in his lap, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I want you to fuck a baby into me, Joel.”
“Fuck, that’s hotter than I ever imagined.” Joel grunts, twitching underneath you. His sex drive isn’t completely on par with yours, but he keeps up and keeps you satisfied in other ways. You’ve told him you don’t regret being with him at all. Which is another balm on his battered soul. “You want me to cum in that pretty pussy?” He asks, squeezing your ass. “Imagined how you would look dripping me a few times.”
You moan, kissing along his jaw as his words wash over you. “I want you to cum inside of me. Put a baby in me.” You plead, wiggling on his lap. His hair has grown back now, more gray in it, but you love it, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair.
He groans and captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth immediately as the easy passion blooms between you. His hands move to start stripping you down.
It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to be naked. You stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, clothes scattered on the trail upstairs and when you lay down on the bed, Joel is immediately hovering over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest and his hand slides along your thigh, cupping your pussy. “I don’t want foreplay. I just want you. Want to feel all of you.” You murmur, caressing his shoulders.
There are times when you want the burn of his cock stretching you out and tonight is one of those nights it seems. That’s good because Joel is impatient to get inside you. He takes his cock in hand and pumps it a few times as he shuffles forward to press against your entrance. “I love you.” He murmurs.
He pushes inside of you, stretching you out, and you gasp out “love you too.” He pushes inside of you until he’s fully seated and you take a deep breath, enjoying the weight of his body on top of yours and the weight of the moment. Deciding to take this step together has your body primed and ready for him. He starts to move inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist, moaning at the way he rocks into you.
Nearly dying hadn’t had the lasting effects that the doctors had feared when Joel had been brought in. His thrusts are steady, if not a little harder than normal, although he keeps the pace sedate. Not rushing, but he enjoys burying himself as deep as he can go and watching your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Gonna knock you up.” He grunts out.
His words make you clench around him, your hands sliding down his back to squeeze his ass. His recovery has been a miracle from the man who was on death's door to the man currently making love to you trying to get you pregnant. You whimper when his lips find your neck and you rock your hips up to try and meet his.
Every time the two of you come together, Joel remembers how lucky he is. His kisses trail along your throat as he groans into your skin. Both of you give and take from each other. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moans, his body tensing when you clench down around him again. “You gonna cum before I fill you up? Love it when you soak my cock.”
You nod, "yes baby. I - shit - you always feel so good." You slide one hand down between you so you can rub your clit. He immediately bats your hand away after shifting his weight onto one elbow. You moan when he rubs your clit just right, his hips pushing into your ass as you take him deep inside of you. "Shit. Joel. You - I'm - God." You cry out as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him.
“That’s it, good girl, goooooood girl.” Joel moans, clenching his teeth as you come apart around him. He feels his own body is ready to cum, excited by the situation and it only takes a few more thrusts. Instead of pulling his hips back, he plunges them forward, embedding himself deep as he paints your womb with his seed. “Fuck, fuck.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm, amazed at how good it feels. “You’ll be pregnant in no time.”
You smile against his lips when he leans in to kiss you and you’re so hopeful for the future with Joel. A baby that looks like the two of you combined. You are excited and when he pulls out, you keep his cum inside of you, trying to make sure that it takes. You’ll be pregnant in no time.
****
“Sweetheart….I’m supposed to go ride the southern border and check the area.” You’ve quieted down over the past few hours, but he can still see the sadness lurking in your eyes. You’ve stopped blaming yourself but he knows those thoughts are bouncing around and he’s reluctant to leave you. “Do you want me to have Tommy go? Stay here with you?”
You shake your head, eyes sore from crying, “no baby. Just go. I’ll be fine. Ellie will be back soon.” You murmur, keeping your back turned towards him. You feel useless, you feel broken, and you feel exhausted. You’ve tried so hard to get pregnant. You even researched old wives tales about how to get pregnant. You’ve taken herbs, teas, anything you can to get pregnant and after trying for so long, you’re exhausted.
He worries about you, leaning over and pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible and I’ll make dinner tonight.” He offers. It’s the historical Mother’s Day today, and he knows you will be extra glum since you are once again not pregnant. Sometimes he wonders if he should just tell you that he’s changed his mind, taking the guilt and worry about it off your shoulders. You can blame him for not having a child. “Okay?”
“Sure.” You murmur, closing your eyes as a cramp contracts in your stomach, making you curl into a ball. You really thought this was it. Your period was two weeks late and you didn’t tell Joel because you wanted to surprise him and then you got your period. You sniff and Joel sighs, shuffling out of the bed to get ready for his shift. You can’t blame him. He’s had a kid. It’s got to be you that’s the issue.
He’ll look for some wildflowers for you while he’s out. They always make you smile and tonight, he will do his best to make sure that you know that no matter what, he loves you. He thinks about all this while he puts his clothes on and brushes his teeth, coming out of the bathroom to find you still curled up. “Go soak in a hot bath, baby.” He suggests, walking over to the bed and kissing your cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”
You listen to him go and you know it's technically Mother's Day today. Salt in the wound. You swallow harshly and wait until the front door closes before you allow yourself to sob again. You can't believe you aren't pregnant. You've tried so hard. Maybe you aren't meant to be a mother.
Saddling the horse and getting let out of the gates of Jackson has Joel on autopilot. Most often the scouting parties are in groups, but today had been just singles, most men in the community wanting to spend time with their wives and celebrate them. The grass is green and lush; there's a certain beauty to the mild spring transitioning into warmer weather. Urging the horse forward, he is eager to finish the patrol so he can get back to you.
You have your bath, eyes sore from sobbing, and you try to come to terms that you’re never going to be a mother. It’s just not in the cards. You love Ellie and you think of her as your daughter but you wanted a baby, a combination of you and Joel to love and care for in this new world. That isn’t going to happen and you curl around yourself in bed after you’re dry, trying to cope with that fact.
Pulling the reins, Joel listens carefully, certain that he has just heard a cry. His hand goes to his rifle to pull it off his shoulder. Wary of traps or ruses to draw unsuspecting people in, he scans the area. Silence lingers long enough until he’s almost convinced he was hearing things when there’s another, louder cry. A baby. His eyes widen and he nudges the horse forward again. “Hello?” He cups his hand and calls out, wondering if there is a group traveling nearby. There must be, if there is a baby. Mountain lions and things that can sound like a baby crying are farther up in the mountains. Instead of the sound quieting, the crying turns into screaming, giving him a direction to head towards. Joel keeps his rifle up and guides the horse with his knees when he almost stumbles upon the scene.
“Shit!” There’s a woman lying on the ground, face down with a carrier on her back, a small baby - no more than three or four months old - screaming from the restraints. He scans the areas again, looking for a trap, but there’s nothing moving. The baby's howls prompts him to dismount and move towards the woman, his rifle pointed at her until he reaches them and nudges her with his boot. Wondering if she’s been changed and cannot get to the baby, although he’s never seen one go dormant with a human around and making noise. “Hey…” prodding her doesn’t make her move and Joel scans the area again, the open range not a good spot to plan an ambush, but someone could be hiding in the tall grass. Carefully kneeling down, he grabs a bony thin shoulder and turns the woman enough to see that her gaunt face and shrunken eyes are lifeless. “Shit.” He hisses, looking back at the baby who is almost as bad as the mother. From what it looks like, this poor woman had been traveling to find shelter, food, anything for her and her baby and she collapsed less than two miles from salvation.
Joel sighs as he sets the rifle down and rolls the body on its side. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, his heart clenching at the reality of the situation, reaching out to close the woman’s eyes before unbuckling the strap for the carrier that is across her chest.
Ellie returns before Joel does and you offer her a smile as she says hello. “I, uh, I made you something.” She says, handing you a piece of paper. It’s a card. “Happy Mother’s Day” it says and your heart clenches. A genuine smile on your face as you realize she made this for you. You open it and tears sting in your eyes as you read her scrawled handwriting. “Thank you for being the mom I never had.” She wrote and you choke, reaching for her. “I love you so much sweetheart.” You pull her close, reminded that you have a beautiful daughter who loves you. “I love you too.” She murmurs, holding you just as tight. The front door opens and you pull back as you hear a baby crying. “Joel?” You gasp when your partner walks into the kitchen.
“Ellie….go to Tommy’s and get a bottle.” He orders the teenager as he starts to pull the baby carrier off his own chest to take the baby out. He had brought the body back, but this baby needed milk as soon as he could get it for her. “I found her,” he explains. “A woman collapsed two miles away from Jackson, she starved to death.” He motions you over. “At least, I think it’s a girl.”
Your eyes widen as he cradles the baby and you reach out to take them into your arms. The baby’s diaper is dirty and you shush them as you walk over to grab an old dish towel from the drawer as a makeshift diaper. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” You coo, unwrapping the baby on the kitchen table and you tell Joel to get a wet cloth. You work on cleaning up the baby, “it’s a girl.” You announce and wrap her in the dishtowel, using the pin from her old diaper. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay, sweet girl. You’re safe and we are going to get you milk.” You promise, cradling her as you turn back towards Joel. “Her poor mother. So close to salvation.” You sigh, shaking your head at the tragedy.
“I brought her back.” Joel tells you quietly, watching as you bounce the baby girl in your arms and coo at her to calm her down. “Hoping something in her bag would tell us where she’s from, what the baby’s name is.” He sighs softly. “I couldn’t leave her out there.”
“Her mother deserves a service, a burial. We must give this little one a place to visit her mother.” You murmur, stroking her cheek. She’s gorgeous, her eyes watching you, and you try to not get too attached to her, knowing that Maria and Tommy will be handling the situation.
Ellie comes bursting into the house. “Got a bottle!” She yells, thundering down the hall to rush into the kitchen. “Tommy and Maria are coming too.” She pants, quickly handing the full bottle of milk to you. The baby is obviously hungry because the second that you brush the nipple against her mouth, she shakes her little head furiously as she tries to get it in her mouth, crying out before the nipple is in and immediately starting to suckle hungrily with great, greedy gulps.
“We will need more. Tommy and Maria have everything for a baby. We - they should take her.” You murmur, knowing it will be hard to hand the baby over but she isn’t yours and the leader needs to make a decision on her placement.
Joel takes one look at the way you hold this baby while she’s eating and knows that’s not what needs to happen. This baby is your chance to be a mother, to feel like a mother. It’s like it was fate for him to be out there and find her today, to bring her to you. “I think we should keep her.” Joel tells you, coming up and laying his hand on your shoulder. “Tommy and Maria have a lot on their plate with one baby already.”
Your eyes widen as you look at him then back at the baby. “We - us - are you - Joel.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you dare to hope that you can keep the little girl. It feels wrong. Her mother just died, but she can’t be left alone. She needs someone to look after her.
The front door opens. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice floats through the house and Joel keeps looking at you with the baby. “In the kitchen.” He calls out. The guards at the gates had kept his horse with the poor woman’s body and he had known Tommy and Maria would come to find out what the hell happened, but he wanted to get the baby here first. Footsteps quickly sound out, two sets of them like he expected and the baby is still greedily sucking away at the milk when his brother and sister in law come into the kitchen.
You look up as Maria walks in, her baby strapped to her chest, and she immediately comes over to see the baby in your arms. “Oh, she’s a sweet little thing. She needs fattening up. Poor girl, her mom was so close to our gates. She needs a mother. You should be her mother.” She says and you stare at her, “are you sure?” Maria smiles, stroking the head of her son. “She needs a mother and you are a more than capable applicant.” She gestures to the way you’re holding the baby. “I- I know this sounds insane but I feel like this is my purpose.” You murmur, looking down at her as she suckles.
Tommy smirks at Joel, who is obviously relieved by the decision. He’s talked to Tommy about the issues you’ve had trying to conceive and wished that there was some way for you to figure out what was wrong, but there just aren’t the medical resources here in Jackson. Joel had even been thinking about trying one of the universities, but couldn’t risk it again. “We both feel that way.”
You smile, cooing at the baby. “Did we find out what her name is?” You ask and Tommy nods, holding up a note that was in the mother’s satchel. “Her name is Hope.” Tommy reveals and you smile, “Hope.” You murmur, pulling the bottle away when she’s done. You shift her to your shoulder to burp her and you cradle her once she’s burped. “She’s our hope.” You declare as you look at Joel and he comes over to wrap his arm around you, looking down at the baby. “Our new daughter.” Joel murmurs, kissing your hair and he beckons Ellie over. “She’s kinda cute.” Ellie says and leans in to stare at the baby. “Hi Hope. I’m Ellie. Your big sister. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Especially about our grumpy dad.” She jokes and Joel chuckles and rolls his eyes. “We will gather everything you’ll need and we will make sure her mother has a proper burial. For now, you guys settle in as a family.” Maria says, stepping back towards Tommy. “Oh and Happy Mother’s Day.” Maria says to you and you smile, “you too.” You may not be able to have a biological baby but you have Ellie and you have Hope. The two girls who have made you a mother.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#hbo the last of us#tlou#Happy Mother's Day
729 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Did the love affair maim you too? | Final part
Joel miller x f!reader
previous part
chapter summary: Joel and you perhaps can have a happy ending.
w.c: 14,6k
warnings: angst, fluff, smut and poorly writing because I wrote in a rush and no proofreading.
a/n: Thank you to each one of you who read and enjoyed this fic. The amount of love was overwhelming and I'm thankful for it. This is the last chapter and I tried to make everyone happy with it. By the end, I realized I lost the main plot, but still, it was fun to write but I got bored AND I became a people pleaser with this chapter. Perhaps there will be more of them, some drabbles or things, but thank you so much for reading. I don't think I will write more series for a while, only one shots. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading, so much love for you. 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
You felt the beating of your heart racing as Joel kept staring at you. Those soft brown eyes on looking at you with delicate love now seemed to be a picture you wanted to save and remember as along as you could.
You wanted to find that sense of belonging to someone in a romantic way again, to be protected, to be loved.
“Good morning, Joel” You smiled at him
Joel shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace, pulling you against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, feeling safe and content in his arms.
Joel’s hand gently traced patterns on your back, and he chuckled softly. “You know… we forgot to go to Tommy’s last night,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
You looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I think we had more important things on our minds,” you teased lightly, your fingers brushing against his chest.
Joel’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I guess we did,” he agreed, his voice filled with warmth.
You laughed softly, feeling a sense of lightness and happiness that had been missing for so long. “I’m sure they’ll understand,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.
Joel sighed contentedly, holding you a little tighter. “I’m just glad you’re here.” he murmured; his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “That’s all that matters.”
But as he kept his arms wrapped around you, you felt your thought drifting away. You knew you should feel content, but you couldn’t help but think this was a moment of weakness or that may everything you had lived with Joel had been like this.
You didn’t feel the warmth enveloping your heart, but a heavy sense of guilt settled in your chest, weighing you down.
Your thoughts drifted back to your fiancé, to your son. The memories of them were still vivid, the pain of their loss still fresh. How could you let yourself find comfort in someone else’s arms? It felt like a betrayal, like you were somehow dishonoring their memory by moving on. The guilt gnawed at you, making it hard to fully embrace the happiness that Joel was offering.
And then there was Lori. The guilt of her leaving Jackson, of the part you played in her departure, hung over you like a shadow. She had been hurt, her actions driven by a broken heart, and now she was gone because of it. You had wanted her gone, yes, but now that it had happened, it didn’t feel right.
You shifted slightly in Joel’s arms, the weight of your thoughts making it hard to stay still. Joel noticed, his grip on you loosening just enough for him to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.
“Nothing,” you lied, avoiding his gaze as you tried to push the guilt and unease to the back of your mind.
Joel didn’t press you further, but the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. Instead, he shifted slightly, his grip on you loosening just enough to give you some space. “Do you want to sleep a little bit more?” he asked, his tone gentle, as if he was trying to offer you an escape from whatever was troubling you.
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. The weight of your emotions felt overwhelming, and the last thing you wanted was to burden Joel with your fears and doubts. But the way he was looking at you, with so much care and understanding, made it hard to keep everything bottled up.
Joel’s hand found yours again, his fingers lacing with yours in a comforting grip. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Sleep a little bit more. I’ll wake you up, later”
You hesitated for a moment, then gave in to the exhaustion that had been weighing on you. You turned back onto the pillow, feeling Joel’s warm presence beside you, and let your eyes close.
As you drifted off, you felt Joel’s hand still holding yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin.
A little while later, you woke up to the sound of hushed voices in the next room. Blinking sleepily, you realized Joel was no longer beside you. The warm spot where he'd been lying was now cool, and the faint murmur of conversation piqued your curiosity.
Quietly, you got out of bed, slipping on the oversized shirt Joel had given you the night before. You moved toward the door, careful not to make any noise as you approached the source of the voices.
You leaned closer to the doorway, straining to hear the conversation.
“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Joel said, his voice tinged with concern.
Tommy sighed, the sound carrying the weight of the situation. “I saw her this morning,” he replied. “She was at that old cabin near the outskirts—the one we used to take Ellie to when she was younger.”
Joel was silent for a moment, likely processing the information. “And she’s alright? She didn’t try to come back?”
Tommy hesitated before answering. “She seemed... lost, Joel. But she didn’t make any move to come back to Jackson. She knows she’s not welcome here anymore, but she’s not exactly stable either.”
You felt a pang of guilt hearing this. Despite everything that had happened, part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lori. She had lost so much, and now she was completely alone.
“Do you think she’ll stay out there?” Joel asked, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to Tommy.
Tommy let out a weary breath. “I don’t know. She’s unpredictable. But as long as she’s not causing trouble in Jackson, we might be able to avoid any more problems.”
Joel didn’t respond right away, and you could feel the tension hanging in the air. You knew he was torn, worried about what Lori might do next but also reluctant to push her further away.
Tommy spoke up again, “I know you care about her- “
“Don’t” Joel cut in sharply, his voice rough with emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's not about that, Tommy”
Tommy nodded, understanding the weight behind Joel's words. "You can't carry all this on your own. She made her choices, Joel. You can't save everyone."
Joel looked away; the strain evident in his clenched jaw. He wanted to protect everyone, to make sure no one else got hurt, but deep down, he knew Tommy was right. Lori was a wild card, and he couldn't control what she would do.
Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his voice gentler now. "You’ve got something good here, Joel. Don’t let the past mess that up."
Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Tommy. I just… I don’t want her to come back and cause more trouble."
Tommy squeezed his shoulder, then released him, giving Joel space to process. "We'll keep an eye on her. If she comes back, we'll deal with it. But right now, you need to focus on what’s in front of you."
Joel finally nodded, the tension slowly easing out of his body. "Yeah, you're right."
But as the conversation faded, you stepped out from where you'd been standing, your heart heavy with the burden of what you'd overheard. You didn’t want to cause more strain between Joel and Tommy, but the mention of Lori staying out there worried you just as much as it did Joel.
you quietly stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, making your presence known. Tommy’s eyes flickered towards you, surprise momentarily crossing his face before it softened into something more understanding.
Joel noticed Tommy’s gaze shift and turned to see you standing there. His expression instantly softened, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes, as if he was concerned about what you might have overheard.
Tommy offered a small nod in your direction, a silent acknowledgment that you were part of this now, whether Joel fully accepted it or not. "I’ll give you two a moment," Tommy said, his tone gentle as he glanced back at Joel.
"Thanks," Joel muttered, his eyes never leaving yours.
Tommy patted Joel on the back before turning to leave. As he passed by you, he gave you a reassuring smile, one that carried the weight of unspoken support. Then, with a final glance at Joel, Tommy walked out, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was quiet now, the only sound being the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Joel’s gaze was heavy on you, filled with concern and an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He took a tentative step towards you, his hand reaching out as if he was unsure whether he should touch you.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice low and full of meaning.
"Hey," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. "You heard us, didn’t you?"
You nodded; your heart still heavy with everything you’d overheard. "Yeah, I did."
Joel let out a slow breath, his hand sliding down your arm to take your hand in his. "I didn’t want you to worry."
You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Joel, letting him wrap his arms around you. His embrace was warm, but the tension in the air was undeniable.
After a few moments, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a serious expression. “Joel,” you began, your voice quiet but firm, “where’s this cabin Tommy was talking about? Where did Lori go?”
Joel’s expression tightened, and he sighed heavily. “It’s an old place, just outside Jackson. We used to use it as a lookout spot, but it’s been abandoned for a while. Lori… she’s been staying there since she left.”
You nodded, processing the information. “Is she okay?”
Joel rubbed the back of his neck, clearly conflicted. “Tommy saw her this morning. She’s alive. That’s what matters for now.”
You felt a knot forming in your stomach, a mix of guilt and concern churning inside you. “I feel like this is my fault,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel immediately shook his head, his grip on your arms tightening slightly. “Don’t you dare think that,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “Lori made her own choices. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. This isn’t on you.”
“But she’s out there, alone,” you argued, the worry evident in your tone.
Joel’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “You didn’t push her away. She wasn’t safe to be around, and you know that. We can’t save everyone, no matter how much we might want to.”
Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, a mix of emotions he seemed to be wrestling with. He didn’t answer right away, as if he was carefully choosing his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “Lori… she was important, yeah. But not in the way you’re thinking.”
You felt your heart tighten in your chest, but you held his gaze, needing to hear the rest.
“She was a part of my life, a part of my past,” Joel continued, his hands still gently holding your face. “But that’s what it is—my past. We went through things together, things that bonded us in a way, but it was never like this.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “What I feel for you… it’s different. It’s real, and it’s now.”
You searched his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity and something deeper—something that made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.
“Lori’s out there because of her choices, not because of anything you did,” Joel added, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a soothing motion. “And if she ever decides to come back, we’ll deal with it together. But right now, I’m here with you, and that’s what matters to me.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with lingering guilt. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason she’s hurting.”
Joel shook his head again, his expression firm. “You’re not. And you can’t carry that burden, okay? She left you out there to die.”
Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation sinking in even deeper. He wasn’t sugarcoating it—he was telling you the harsh truth you’d been trying to avoid. Lori had left you to fend for yourself and abandoned you in a way that had nearly cost you everything.
“She made her choices,” Joel continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And those choices weren’t about you—they were about her. She’s got her demons, her reasons, but that doesn’t excuse what she did. You did nothing wrong by protecting yourself.”
You looked down, the guilt still gnawing at you, but Joel’s hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face so you had to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering. “You’re here, with me, because you survived. Because you fought to live. Don’t let her take that away from you.”
A tear slipped down your cheek, and Joel was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, his touch tender. “I know it’s hard,” he whispered. “I know it’s gonna take time to let go of the guilt. But you have to try, for your sake. For us.”
You nodded, feeling a little more of that heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Joel was right—you couldn’t let Lori’s choices define you or what you had now with him.
“I’m trying,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m really trying.”
Joel’s expression softened even more, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as if sealing a promise. “That’s all I ask,” he murmured against your lips.
You kissed him back, but this time his lips didn’t taste to a sweet fruit you crave on summer but like the bitter liquor you drank after a hard day as it a sip could take your demons away.
Joel pulled back from the kiss, his gaze lingering on yours with a mix of concern and affection. He could sense the turmoil still brewing inside you, even as you tried to put on a brave face. He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair, clearly reluctant to leave you like this.
“I’ve got to head out for patrol,” he said, his voice laced with reluctance. “But please�� don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” His eyes searched yours, silently pleading with you to stay safe, to not let your guilt drive you to something reckless.
You nodded, giving him a small, tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten.
Joel hesitated, as if debating whether to push further, but eventually, he nodded. “I’ll see you later,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he turned to leave.
You watched him go, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. As soon as the door closed behind him, you felt the quiet settle in, amplifying the thoughts swirling in your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to do something—something more than just waiting and hoping things would get better.
Your mind kept drifting back to Lori. Despite everything Joel had said, the guilt gnawed at you, relentless and unyielding. She was out there, alone, and even though you knew she had made her choices, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.
The more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. You needed to see her, to talk to her, to try and make things right in whatever way you could. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was reckless, but you felt like it was something you had to do.
You couldn’t bear the thought of a woman out there alone, just as you were not long time ago. You didn’t want anyone to go through that pain.
Without giving yourself time to second-guess the decision, you got up and quickly changed into clothes more suitable for the cold outside. You grabbed your jacket, slipping it on as you glanced around your small home, making sure you had everything you needed.
You knew Joel would be furious if he found out what you were planning, but you couldn’t let that stop you. This was something you had to do, for your own peace of mind. You left the house, pulling the door shut behind you, and started making your way toward the outskirts of Jackson, where you knew the old cabin Lori had been staying in was located.
As you walked, the snow crunched beneath your boots, and the chill in the air seemed to match the cold knot of anxiety in your chest. You couldn’t predict how Lori would react to seeing you again, but you knew you had to try. You had to at least make the effort, even if it was dangerous, even if it meant facing whatever might come next on your own.
The journey to the old cabin where Lori was staying felt longer than it actually was. Every step you took was weighed down by the uncertainty of what awaited you. The cold bit at your skin, the wind whispering through the trees like a warning, but you pressed on, driven by a need to confront what had been gnawing at you since she left.
The cabin finally came into view, tucked away in a secluded area surrounded by thick trees. It looked as worn and isolated as you remembered, with smoke lazily curling from the chimney, indicating that someone was inside. You hesitated at the edge of the clearing, taking a moment to gather your thoughts and calm the racing of your heart.
With a deep breath, you moved forward, your footsteps careful and deliberate as you approached the door. You paused, hand hovering over the wooden surface, the reality of what you were about to do sinking in. But there was no turning back now. You had come this far, and you needed to see it through.
You knocked lightly, the sound echoing in the stillness. For a moment, there was no response, and you wondered if she was even there. But then, you heard movement from inside—a shuffling of feet, the creak of old floorboards—and the door slowly opened.
Lori stood in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw you. She looked different, more worn and tired than the last time you had seen her, but there was still a fierceness in her gaze, a hardness that hadn’t been there before. She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you as if trying to decide whether to slam the door in your face or let you in.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, her voice flat, but with an edge of suspicion.
You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “I came to talk,” you replied, forcing yourself to meet her gaze.
“Can I come in?”Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might refuse. But then, with a sigh, she stepped aside, allowing you to enter. The cabin was as sparse as you remembered, with only the bare essentials scattered around—a small table, a few chairs, a cot in the corner, and the fire crackling in the hearth. It was warm inside, but the tension between you made the air feel heavy.
Lori closed the door behind you, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching you with a guarded expression. “Does Joel know you’re here?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.
You shook your head. “No,” you admitted. “I came on my own.”
Lori raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of your motives. “Why? What do you want?”
“I want to talk,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervousness you felt. “I wanted to see if… if there’s any way, we can work this out.”
Lori’s expression hardened at your words, and she shook her head almost immediately. “I’m not going back,” she said firmly. “There’s nothing for me there.”
“Lori, please,” you implored, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can find a way to make it work. You don’t have to stay out here, isolated from everyone.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head again. “You think it’s that simple?
“I don’t think it’s simple,” you replied, your voice softening. “But I don’t think it’s impossible either. We’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all done things we regret. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep punishing yourself.”
Lori’s gaze softened for just a moment, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that same hard look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, turning away from you and staring into the fire.
“I know you’re hurting,” you said, taking another step closer. “I know you feel like you’ve lost everything. But running away won’t fix it. It won’t make the pain go away.”
Lori’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time since you arrived, she seemed to waver. She didn’t respond, just stood there, staring into the flames as if searching for answers in the flickering light.
“You don’t love him,” Lori said, her tone laced with bitterness. “I bet every time you see Joel, you wish he were the one you lost when this world went to shit.”
Her words hit you like a slap, the accusation stinging deep. You stood there, unable to respond immediately, the truth of her statement gnawing at you. Lori finally looked up; her eyes hard as they met yours.
“Am I wrong?” she pressed; her gaze unwavering.
You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but the guilt you had been carrying made it difficult. “It’s not like that,” you finally said, your voice shaky.
“Isn’t it?” Lori challenged, standing up and taking a step closer to you.
You felt your chest tighten, her words cutting deeper than you expected. “Lori, you don’t understand,” you started, but she cut you off.
“No, you don’t understand,” Lori spat, her voice rising. “You’re just using him to fill the void left by whoever you lost. You’re not in love with him—you’re in love with a memory.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the truth in her accusation tearing at you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t entirely true. Yes, you had lost someone, and yes, the pain of that loss was still with you. But what you felt for Joel was real.
She took a step closer, her eyes fierce and unyielding. “I know it because I had my Joel before,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “I lost him when the outbreak happened, and I spent years crying over him, wishing he was still here.”
You could see the pain in her eyes, the same pain that had haunted you for so long. “And then Joel came along,” Lori went on, her voice now softer, tinged with regret. “I wanted Joel to be my lover because I felt broken, and he was the only one who made me feel whole again. But it wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to me.”
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori, understanding now that you weren’t the only one struggling with feelings of loss and confusion. But that didn’t make her words any easier to hear.
“Lori,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “I know what you’re saying. I know I’ve been holding on to the past, and maybe I haven’t been fair to Joel. But what I feel for him...I love him and he loves me.”
Lori's expression shifted, the hardness in her eyes softening ever so slightly. You could see the conflict within her, the struggle between the pain she carried and the understanding she was trying to find.
"The world is too shitty for us to be fighting over a man," you continued, your voice steadier now. “We’ve all lost so much, and I know you’re hurting too. But this... this isn’t worth tearing each other apart.”
Lori looked away, her gaze falling to the floor as she let out a long breath. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been through too much to waste our energy on this.”
There was a long silence between you, the tension slowly ebbing away as the weight of your shared pain settled between you. Finally, Lori looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of resignation and acceptance.
“I just... I just wanted to feel like I mattered again,” she said, her voice breaking. “And Joel... he made me feel that way, even if it was just for a little while.”
You took a step closer, your heart aching for her. “You do matter, Lori. To Joel, to Jackson. But you can’t find your worth in someone else. You have to find it in yourself.”
Lori nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know,” she whispered. “I know that now.”
The two of you stood there for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the cabin. It wasn’t forgiveness, not completely, but it was a step towards understanding—a fragile truce in a world that had taken so much from both of you.
“Come back to Jackson,” you said gently. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be alone.”
You looked at Lori, seeing the pain and confusion in her eyes. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the raw vulnerability she was trying to hide. Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what had happened between you.
“I know what you did,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the memories that threatened to surface. “And I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, or that I wasn’t scared. But I also know that this world has twisted all of us in ways we never could have imagined.”
Lori’s gaze dropped to the floor, shame and regret evident in her expression. You took a deep breath, knowing that what you were about to say would expose a part of yourself you usually kept hidden.
“I’m doing this because I don’t want to be the kind of person this world wants me to be. I don’t want to be consumed by hate, or let fear rule my decisions. And I don’t want you to be that person either. We’ve lost so much, Lori. But we don’t have to lose ourselves.”
She looked up at you, her eyes wide and searching, as if she was trying to understand why you would offer her this chance at redemption. “But how can you forgive me?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “After everything I did... how can you just let it go?”
“I’m not letting that go,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “But we keep moving forward. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can choose what we do next. I’m choosing to believe that there’s still good in you, and that you deserve a chance to find it again.”
Lori blinked back tears, her tough exterior cracking just enough for you to see the pain and guilt she carried. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.
“You can,” you assured her. “It won’t be easy, but you can. And you won’t have to do it alone. Come back to Jackson. We can figure it out together.”
Lori hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “And what about Joel?” she asked, her voice laced with fear. “What if he doesn’t want me back?”
“Joel’s angry,” you said honestly, “but he’s also someone who cares deeply about the people in his life. If you show him that you’re willing to change, I think he’ll find a way to understand. But you have to be willing to take that first step. Both of you will.” You paused, “Not romantically anymore, but as people living in the same place.”
Lori’s gaze lingered on you for a long moment, as if weighing your words. Finally, she nodded, a small, tentative movement that signaled her agreement. “I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Let’s go back to Jackson. Together.”
“They voted me out” she said.
Your smile faltered as Lori’s words sank in. The realization of what that meant hit you like a punch to the gut. Being voted out of Jackson was more than just being asked to leave—it was a declaration that the community no longer trusted you, no longer believed you were safe to have around.
“They… they really did that?” you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and sadness.
Lori nodded, her expression a mixture of bitterness and resignation. “Yeah. After what happened with you, and… everything else. They decided I wasn’t worth the risk.”
You could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain of being rejected by the only place that could offer any semblance of safety. And despite everything she had done, a part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
“Lori, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, the weight of her situation pressing down on you. “But maybe… maybe we can talk to them. I can vouch for you. Tell them you’re willing to make things right.”
Lori shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s too late for that. Even if you could convince Joel, the rest of them won’t listen. They’ve made up their minds.”
You didn’t know what to say. The idea of leaving someone out there alone, especially someone who had been part of your community, felt wrong on every level. But you also knew how fragile trust was in this world, and how quickly it could be lost.
“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.
“I don’t know,” Lori admitted, her shoulders slumping as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe find another group, if I can. Or just… survive on my own. It’s not like I have a lot of options.”
You took a deep breath, your mind racing for any solution that might keep Lori safe. "Come with me," you suggested, your voice urgent. "If they see us together, maybe it'll be different. Maybe they’ll understand, see that you’re willing to make things right."
Lori looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and doubt. For a moment, she seemed to consider it, her gaze flickering with a faint hope. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening as she looked away.
"No," she said firmly. "I can’t do that. If I come back with you, they’ll just see it as me hiding behind you. It’ll look like I’m trying to manipulate my way back in, and that’s not going to work. They’ll never trust me again, not unless I earn it on my own terms."
Her words stung because you knew she was right. Trust was fragile, especially in a world where survival depended on it. The community needed to see that she was willing to stand on her own, to prove herself without relying on someone else’s influence.
"But what if something happens to you out here?" you pressed, the thought of leaving her alone gnawing at you. "You’re safer in Jackson, with people who can help you."
Lori smiled sadly, a wistful look in her eyes. "I know the risks. But if I’m ever going to have a chance at getting back what I’ve lost, I have to do it my way. I’d rather have their approval than their pity."
You could see the determination in her eyes, the fierce independence that had kept her alive for so long. It was the same trait that made her both strong and dangerous, and you realized that there was nothing you could say to change her mind.
"Just… be careful, okay?" you said finally, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t want to see you get hurt."
"I will," Lori promised, her voice softening as she met your gaze. "And thank you, for coming out here. For trying."
You nodded, a heavy sense of resignation settling in your chest. There was nothing more you could do, no more words that could bridge the gap between the two of you. All you could do was hope that Lori would find her way, that she would survive long enough to prove herself.
With one last look at her, you turned and made your way back to Jackson, the weight of the conversation lingering heavily on your shoulders. You knew that this wasn’t the end, not for Lori, not for you. But for now, all you could do was return to the life you had built, even as the echoes of the past threatened to pull you back.
As you walked away, Lori stood at the entrance of the cabin, watching you go, her expression unreadable. The distance between you grew, both physical and emotional until she was just a figure in the distance, a reminder of the choices that had brought you both to this point.
You arrived back in Jackson, the familiar sight of the town coming into view as you crossed the threshold. It was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the day beginning to wind down as the sun dipped lower in the sky. But as you approached the center of town, you could hear raised voices—Joel's voice, loud and angry, cutting through the stillness.
Following the sound, you found Joel near the gates, his posture tense as he argued with a couple of men who had been on watch duty. His face was a mask of frustration and fury, his fists clenched at his sides as he spoke.
"What the hell were you thinking, letting her go out on her own?" Joel barked, his voice carrying an edge that sent a chill down your spine. "You know damn well how dangerous it is out there!"
One of the men, looking both intimidated and defensive, tried to respond. "We didn’t think she’d go far, Joel. She’s handled herself before—"
"That’s not the point!" Joel snapped, cutting him off. "It’s not about whether she can handle herself. It’s about the fact that you let her go out there alone without telling anyone!"
The other man, clearly trying to diffuse the situation, spoke up. "We’re sorry, Joel. We didn’t think—"
"No, you didn’t," Joel growled, his anger barely contained. "And if something had happened to her…"
The rest of his sentence trailed off as his gaze shifted, and he finally noticed you standing there. His eyes narrowed, but unlike usual, his expression didn’t soften. Instead, there was a mix of relief, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite place.
"Where the hell were you?" he demanded, his voice low and rough as he took a few steps toward you.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the weight of his anger and concern made the words stick in your throat.
"I was…" you hesitated, knowing how furious he would be when he found out. "I went to see Lori."
Joel's eyes widened in shock, and then they darkened with anger. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to process what you’d just said.
"You what?" he finally said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You went to see her? After everything that happened?"
You nodded, feeling small under the intensity of his gaze. "I had to. I needed to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. She’s out there, Joel, and she’s all alone."
Joel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to keep his anger in check. "And you thought it was a good idea to go out there by yourself? Without telling anyone?"
"I knew you’d try to stop me," you admitted, your voice wavering. "I thought if I went alone, I could handle it."
"Handle it?" Joel echoed, incredulous. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was? What if something had happened to you? What if she had—"
"She didn’t," you interrupted, your voice firmer now. "I’m fine, Joel. I’m here, and nothing happened."
"But it could have," Joel shot back, his voice thick with frustration. "You can’t just go off like that, not when there’s so much at stake."
You could see the fear behind his anger, the desperation in his eyes as he looked at you. He was scared, not just for you but for everything you represented in his life. And that fear was fueling his anger now, making him lash out because he didn’t know how else to deal with it.
"I’m sorry," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I couldn’t leave things the way they were."
Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained out of him. He looked at you, his expression torn between anger and something softer, something more vulnerable.
"I can’t lose you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You won’t, but you need to stop being an asshole to everyone” you said.
Joel blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, clearly struggling with his emotions. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.
“I know I’ve been hard on everyone,” he admitted, his voice low. “But it’s just... I’ve been so damn scared of losing you, of losing anyone else. It’s like every time I think about what could happen, I—”
“—you push people away,” you finished for him, your tone gentle but firm. “But, Joel, you can’t protect everyone by building walls around yourself. You have to let people in, let them help you. We’re all in this together, whether you like it or not.”
“And you need to stop being weak” he said, as if he had found the words to get back at you for something.
The words cut deep, and you felt a surge of anger and hurt rise within you. You took a step back, your hands clenching into fists at your sides as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.
“Stop being weak?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly. “Joel, I’m trying my best to handle everything that’s been thrown at me. I’m not perfect, but I’m not weak.”
"Being weak got your boyfriend killed, right?" Joel’s words echoed in your mind, the pain of them mingling with the pain of your past. It felt like a knife twisting deeper into a wound that had never fully healed.
“Don’t you dare use that against me,” you said, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’ve been trying my hardest to move forward, to deal with everything that’s happened. You can’t just throw my past in my face like that.”
Joel’s face softened, his eyes wide with regret as he saw the effect of his words. He reached out as if to bridge the gap you’d created, but you took another step back, shaking your head.
“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t do that. You can’t keep using my pain to justify your own frustrations. We both have our struggles, and we both have to face them. But that doesn’t mean we get to hurt each other.”
Joel’s shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to a weary sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Just stop,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are this how things are going to be between us?" You asked, no payback, just a tense voice.
"What do you mean?" he asked, regretting lacing on his voice.
"Every time I do something you don't like you will throw something at me?"
Joel looked away, his gaze shifting to the floor as if searching for the right words. The weight of your question seemed to hit him hard, and he struggled to meet your eyes again.
“No,” he finally said, his voice low. “That’s not what I want. I don’t want to hurt you. I just... I’m dealing with a lot, and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But that’s no excuse for pushing you away or being unfair.”
You could see the conflict in his eyes, the internal battle between his pain and his desire to make things right. It was clear he was struggling, and for a moment, you felt a pang of sympathy despite the hurt he’d caused.
“Then we need to figure out a way to communicate better,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “If we keep doing this, hurting each other, it’s never going to work. We need to be able to talk without tearing each other down.”
Joel nodded slowly, his expression softening. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. I just… I need to do better. For us.”
“Joel, I… I think we need to take a step back,” you began, your voice gentle but firm. “We can’t be together as a couple right now. Not until we’ve both done some healing—on our own.”
Joel’s brow furrowed, and you could see the hurt flicker across his face. “What are you saying?” he asked quietly, his grip on your arms loosening.
“I’m saying that we’ve both been through so much, and we’re still carrying all that pain,” you explained. “It’s not fair to either of us to try to make this work when we’re still so broken inside. We’re just going to end up hurting each other more.”
Joel looked down; his jaw clenched tightly. He was silent for a moment, clearly struggling with your words.
Joel’s silence stretched, and you could see the emotions warring within him. Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and resignation.
“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I do. It’s just… hard to accept. I don’t want to lose you, but I understand if we need to take a step back.”
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “I don’t want to lose you either, Joel. That’s why we need to do this. We need to heal separately so we can be better for each other, if we decide to come back together.”
Joel sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll try to do better. For myself, for us. And… I’ll see the therapist. Maybe it’ll help.”
“I think it will,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s a good step. For both of us.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening a bit. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot. But just know… I care about you. A lot.”
“I care about you too,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “And that’s why we need to do this. We need to take care of ourselves first.”
With a final, heavy sigh, Joel gave you a small, bittersweet smile. “Alright. I’ll see you around then.”
You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, and reached out to gently touch his face. His eyes met yours, filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
Before either of you could say more, you leaned in and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. It was a gentle, tender gesture, a promise that despite the distance you both needed, the feelings between you remained.
Joel’s eyes closed momentarily as he returned the kiss, his grip on your shoulders tightening just enough to convey his emotions. When you finally pulled away, you could see the depth of his feelings in his gaze—a silent acknowledgment that while things were changing, the connection between you was still strong.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “For understanding. For everything.”
You gave him a small, encouraging smile. “We’re both doing our best. That’s all we can ask of each other.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I’ll see you around,” he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.
With one last, lingering look, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a heavy heart and a sense of resolve. You knew it would be hard, but you were hopeful that with time and effort, both of you could find the healing you needed.
++
When Joel woke up, the world seemed disjointed, fragmented. He was greeted with concerned faces, but the familiarity of their voices felt distant. As the days passed, it became clear that Joel had lost significant portions of his memory. He struggled to piece together the events leading up to the ambush, and his sense of self was clouded by confusion.
The emotional impact was profound. Joel had always been someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but now he found himself grappling with an added burden: the loss of his own past. He could remember fragments—snippets of conversations, fleeting images—but the continuity of his life felt like a puzzle with missing pieces.
In the midst of this struggle, Joel faced the raw, unfiltered emotions that had been buried under layers of anger and pain. Without the anchor of his memories, he found himself confronted with feelings he had tried to suppress or ignore. The realization of what he had lost, both in terms of his past and his relationship with you, hit him with an intensity that left him vulnerable and exposed.
The days were a whirlwind of emotions for Joel. He felt anger at his own helplessness, frustration at not being able to remember crucial parts of his life, and deep sadness for the connections that seemed to have slipped away from him. His interactions with you were strained. He knew you were important, but the specifics of why were obscured by the fog of his memory.
Joel’s struggle was evident in the way he reached out for fragments of normalcy. He would sit quietly in the corners of the community, trying to piece together his past by observing others. Conversations with you were tinged with an awkward formality, as if he were trying to bridge a gap that couldn’t be fully crossed.
As time went on, Joel began to lean on you more, searching for comfort in your presence. Your patience and support became a lifeline for him, a way to ground himself amidst the confusion. He struggled to reconcile the past he could no longer fully recall with the present he was living through.
You, too, found yourself grappling with the new reality. Seeing Joel in such a fragile state was heartbreaking. You wanted to help him, to be there for him, but the dynamics of your relationship had shifted. The boundaries you had set were still in place, but the lines between them were now blurred by Joel’s struggle and your own feelings of helplessness.
Despite the pain and frustration, there were moments of clarity and connection. The more Joel leaned on you, the more he began to remember the warmth of your presence, the comfort of your touch. Though the memories of your shared past were fragmented, the emotional bond between you was something that transcended the gaps in his recollection.
++
Joel’s journey through therapy was arduous. Each session was a test of patience and introspection, peeling back layers of his past and the wounds he had kept buried. The process was slow, and the progress often seemed incremental. He confronted painful memories and learned to navigate his emotions, guided by the therapist’s steady support.
Despite the difficulties, Joel showed up for each session, driven by a desire to heal and a growing understanding of the importance of addressing his issues. He learned to articulate his feelings and confront his fears. The therapy sessions began to shift something within him—a deeper recognition of his own vulnerabilities and a burgeoning sense of hope.
In the midst of this, Joel's thoughts frequently returned to Lori and you. He knew that if there was any chance of reconciliation or understanding, it had to start with bringing Lori back into the fold. His own healing process had taught him the value of second chances and the importance of confronting unresolved issues.
One crisp morning, after several weeks of therapy, Joel set out to find Lori. He had been keeping tabs on her location, and while he understood the risks, he was determined to make things right. When he finally located her, she was in a makeshift camp on the outskirts of a small, struggling community.
“Lori,” Joel said, his voice carrying concern as he approached her. “We need to talk.”
Lori looked up; her expression wary but curious. “Joel,” she said, her voice tinged with both surprise and apprehension. “What are you doing here?”
Joel took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been working on myself. Trying to make things right. And I think... I think it’s time for us to address what happened between us.”
Lori’s eyes softened slightly, though she remained guarded. “And what does that mean?”
“It means,” Joel said, taking a step closer, “that I want to try and bring you back to Jackson. There’s a chance for reconciliation, but it starts with making amends.”
Lori studied him for a long moment, the hesitation clear in her eyes. “Why would I go back there? They’ve already decided I’m not welcome.”
Joel nodded, understanding her reluctance. “They might have voted you out, but people change. And I think there’s a chance for you to make things right. I can vouch for you. I’ve been through a lot of my own healing, and I believe in second chances.” He paused “And I believe on her” he said, referring to you.
Lori’s gaze softened further, the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. “And what if they don’t want me back? What if they still see me as a threat?”
“We won’t know until we try,” Joel said firmly. “I believe in giving people a chance, and I’m willing to stand up for you.”
After a long pause, Lori finally nodded. “Alright. If you’re willing to vouch for me, I’ll give it a try.”
Joel offered a small, hopeful smile. “Okay. Let’s head back to Jackson.”
The journey back was quiet but filled with a tentative sense of hope. When they arrived, the tension was palpable. The community was wary, and the reception was far from warm. However, Joel’s presence and the commitment he showed in standing by Lori’s side made a difference.
Lori had to prove herself, and the community had to come to terms with her return. Not only because she was a threat to you in a moment. But the fact that she was given a chance was a testament to the power of redemption and the possibility of new beginnings.
Joel’s own healing continued as well, bolstered by his actions and the steps he took to make amends. His relationship with you remained on a path of gradual recovery. While there were still challenges to face, the progress made was a testament to the strength of the bonds that held the community together and the resilience of the individuals within it.
In the end, Joel’s journey was a reflection of the broader struggles and triumphs of a world striving to rebuild itself, one step at a time.
while you were in the infirmary tending to a few minor injuries and organizing supplies, Joel walked in with Lori at his side. The atmosphere was quiet, the usual hum of activity in the infirmary providing a backdrop to the scene.
You looked up from your work, your hands wiping off the last traces of blood from a bandage, and saw Joel approaching. A lump formed in your throat as you took in the sight of Lori walking behind him, her posture guarded but resolute.
“Hey,” Joel said, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism. “I brought Lori here for you to check on her. She’s been having some issues with her leg.”
You nodded, trying to mask your apprehension. “You’re back” you said, feeling a lump forming on your throat.
Lori nodded as she moved towards the examination table with a hesitant but determined stride. She glanced at you, her expression a mixture of anxiety and hope.
you greeted her softly, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “How’s it been? What happened to your leg?”
Lori took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. “It’s been a rough few days. Just a scrape that’s gotten worse.”
As you began to examine her leg, you noticed Joel standing nearby. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, anxiety mingled with a sense of unease as you tried to focus on the task at hand.
“Looks like it’s inflamed,” you said, carefully cleaning the wound. “I’ll need to get some antibiotics on it and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”
“Thank you,” Lori said quietly, her eyes meeting yours. “I know it’s been complicated between us.”
You offered her a small, strained smile. “It’s okay. We all have our struggles. I’m just glad to see you making an effort.”
Joel watched the interaction closely, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. He understood the complexities of the situation and was grateful for the chance to make things right.
As you finished treating Lori’s leg, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of discomfort. The process of healing was never straightforward, and the emotional weight of the past few weeks lingered in the air.
“Thanks,” Lori said, standing up with a tentative smile. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” you replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
Joel gave you a small, appreciative nod. “Thanks for taking care of her.”
You watched as Joel and Lori left the infirmary, a mix of emotions swirling within you. The path to reconciliation and healing was long and often challenging, but moments like these—where you faced the past and worked towards a better future—were steps in the right direction.
You hoped that in time, things would settle into a new normal. For now, you focused on the present, knowing that the journey of healing for everyone involved was far from over.
As you were lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps approaching.
Joel walked back into the infirmary a few minutes after leaving with Lori. His demeanor was different now, less tentative and more determined. He approached with a sense of urgency, his expression revealing his frustration and a touch of exasperation.
You looked up from the stack of bandages you had been organizing, noticing the intensity in his gaze. The uncertainty and lingering doubts you had been grappling with seemed to settle around you, making your heart race a little faster.
“Hey,” Joel said, his voice cutting through the quiet of the infirmary.
“Hey” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I see Lori is back” you added, not wanting to sound bitter because you weren’t. You could see everyone was trying to make better version of themselves.
Her, Joel and you.
There were broken versions hoping to be fixed.
Joel’s eyes followed your gaze to the door, still looking a bit out of place in the infirmary. He took a deep breath before speaking, clearly trying to manage his frustration.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone carrying a tint of relief and irritation. “She’s back. I know it’s been a lot to take in, and I get that you’re unsure- “
“I’m not.” You said, voice trembling even when you felt sure about your feelings towards Joel.
Joel's expression softened as he heard the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer, his frustration giving way to concern and understanding. “Then what is it?” he asked gently, searching your eyes for the answer. “You seem sad today.”
Joel’s frustration was evident as he took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone even. “I’m tired of this,” he began, his voice steady but laced with underlying frustration. “I’m tired of you doubting what we have, of you questioning whether or not it’s worth it. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to make things work.”
Your gaze fell to the floor, feeling the weight of his words. You had been struggling with your own fears and uncertainties, and it was clear that Joel’s patience was wearing thin.
“Joel, it’s not that I don’t care,” you said quietly. “It’s just—”
“Just what?” Joel interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Just that you’re scared? I get it, I really do. But we can’t keep going in circles like this. I’m here, and I’m trying. But if you’re not on the same page, if you’re not willing to fight for us, then what are we even doing?”
His words hit hard, but they also struck a chord of truth. You had been hesitant, afraid of getting hurt again, and it was affecting your ability to fully commit to the relationship. Joel’s frustration was palpable, and you knew that this conversation was long overdue.
“What else I have to do to prove that you’re it for me?” he asked.
Joel’s question hung in the air, heavy with emotion. You could see the intensity in his eyes, the way his frustration was mixed with desperation. He had been fighting for you, for the relationship, and now he was asking for something in return—your commitment, your belief in what you two could be together.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I know you’ve been trying, Joel,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “And I see that. I see how much you care, how much you’re willing to do for us. But… it’s not just about proving something to me. It’s about proving it to yourself too.”
Joel’s brow furrowed, his gaze never leaving yours. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… we both have our scars,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly. “And I’m scared, yes. But I think you’re scared too. Scared of getting hurt again, of losing someone else. And that’s why we keep going in circles, why it’s so hard to fully trust in this.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. You could see that he was listening, really listening, to what you were saying. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and intense. Walking towards you, he cupped your face in his hands “I could hit my head a hundred times,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions, “and I would come back to you each time.”
You looked up at him, a mix of surprise and emotion swirling in your eyes. His words cut through the uncertainty you’d been feeling, touching on something deeper and more enduring than just the day-to-day struggles.
“Why?” you asked softly, searching his face for the meaning behind his declaration. “Why would you keep coming back?”
Joel’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Because you matter to me more than anything,” he said, his voice earnest. “I know we’ve got a lot to work through, and it’s not going to be easy. But every time I think of us, it’s like everything else falls away. It’s always you.”
You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “And you?”
Joel nodded, a small, sincere smile on his lips. “And me. Even when things get tough, or when I mess up, it’s you I want to be with. It’s you I want to make things right with.”
The sincerity in his words struck a chord within you. You could see how deeply he cared, despite the flaws and the struggles that had come between you. It was a reminder that, despite the difficulties, there was something real and lasting between you.
“I’m willing to try,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but full of conviction.
Joel’s smile widened, a look of relief and affection shining in his eyes. “Deal,” he said softly, pulling you into a gentle embrace.
"How is therapy going?" you asked.
Joel shifted slightly in your embrace before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and hope. “It’s… it’s going. Not easy, but I’m trying to face things I’ve been avoiding for a long time.”
You nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. “That’s good to hear. It’s important to confront those things.”
Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, it’s more than just talking about it. It’s about figuring out how to move forward. I’m learning that it’s not just about fixing what’s broken, but understanding why it was broken in the first place.”
“Sounds like you’re making progress,” you said gently.
Joel’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “It is. And having support—like you—makes it a bit easier. I appreciate you being here, even when things get complicated.”
You gave him a warm smile.
Joel's gaze lingered on yours, a mix of determination and affection in his eyes. Without a word, he gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. The warmth of his touch conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words.
He leaned in, his lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and deliberate, a silent promise of his commitment and his feelings for you. The kiss was more than just an expression of love; it was an affirmation of the bond you both shared, a way of showing that despite the challenges, there was still something deeply real and enduring between you.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. “I just needed you to know that,” he said quietly. “You’re important to me, and I’m not giving up on us.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.
“Let me love you” he whispered on your lips.
When Joel whispered those words, so close that his breath mingled with yours, it sent a shiver down your spine. His vulnerability, laid bare in that simple plea, tugged at something deep inside you. For so long, you had both danced around your fears and uncertainties, but here he was, asking for a chance to break through all of that.
Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions—relief, love, and a lingering hint of that old fear. But as you looked into Joel’s eyes, filled with a hope that you hadn’t seen in him before, you felt something inside your shift.
You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and let your lips meet his in a gentle, lingering kiss.
rushed and desperate, as a silent promise between the two of you.
But then, you pulled back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and regain some sense of where you were. “We are in the infirmary, Joel,” you whispered against his lips, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your words were a gentle reminder of the boundaries you still needed to respect, even in the midst of everything you were feeling.
Joel let out a small, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to gather himself. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice laced with both amusement and a lingering desire. “But I needed some kisses from my favorite lady.
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Well, your favorite lady is very flattered,” you replied, your tone teasing as you brushed a hand through his hair. “But I think she might need to get back to work before someone walks in on us.”
Joel sighed dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get back to your work,” he said, though he didn’t make a move to step away just yet. Instead, he pressed one last, quick kiss to your lips, as if he couldn’t resist.
“See you later, then,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection and something deeper, something that spoke to the connection you were slowly rebuilding.
“Later,” you echoed, your smile lingering as he finally released you and took a step back, his eyes still warm with unspoken feelings.
As you returned to your work, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. The way he had kissed you, the way he had spoken to you—it was clear that he was committed to making things work between you two. And deep down, you knew that you were too. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but you were both willing to walk it together.
Time passed quickly as you immersed yourself in your tasks, trying to push away the thoughts of what had just transpired. But the memory of his touch, his words, lingered with you, making your heart ache in a bittersweet way.
Later, as the day began to wind down and the infirmary grew quieter, you found yourself thinking about what the evening might bring. Would Joel come by to see you again? Would you two have a chance to talk more, to start building something real and solid between you?
Just as you were finishing up for the day, you heard the door to the infirmary creak open. You turned, half-expecting it to be another patient or one of the other medics. But when you saw Joel standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft smile on his face, your heart skipped a beat.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Thought I’d come by and see if you needed anything.”
You smiled, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. “Hey yourself,” you replied, wiping your hands on your scrubs. “I was just finishing up.”
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good timing, then,” he said with a slight grin. “Mind if I walk you home?”
Your smile widened, and the idea of spending more time with him made your heart swell with affection. “I’d like that,” you said softly.
As you and Joel walked through the quiet streets of Jackson, the cool evening air wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The sounds of the community winding down for the night were all around—distant chatter, the occasional clatter of dishes being put away, the soft hum of generators. It was a rare moment of peace in a world that had seen so much chaos.
Joel walked close beside you, his presence grounding and reassuring. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with words; the simple act of being together was enough. Yet, the unspoken connection between you was palpable, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had shared earlier and the emotions that had been laid bare.
As you approached your house, your home came into view. The warm glow of the lantern inside spilled out through the window, casting a welcoming light on the porch. You hesitated for a moment, not quite ready for the evening to end, and it seemed Joel felt the same.
He stopped a few steps away from the door, turning to face you fully. His expression was softer now, the earlier intensity replaced by a quiet tenderness that made your heart ache in the best possible way.
“I know things have been… complicated,” Joel began, his voice low and earnest. “But I meant what I said earlier. I’m not giving up on us. We’ve both been through hell, but I want to make this work. I want us to work.”
You felt a lump form in your throat, his words hitting you with a depth of sincerity that left you momentarily speechless. But you knew he was right—this was something worth fighting for, and you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way.
“I want that too, Joel,” you finally said, your voice soft but steady. “We’ve been through so much already. We can get through this too. Together.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you as your fingers intertwined.
For a moment, the two of you stood there, holding hands in the soft glow of the lantern light, the world around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something new and uncertain, but also something beautiful.
Finally, Joel broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I… come in?”
You looked up at him, your heart racing as you considered the question.
With a small, hopeful smile, you nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Together, you walked up the steps and into the house, the door closing softly behind you. Inside, the room was warm and inviting, a small oasis in a world that had taken so much from both of you. As you stood there, taking in the familiarity of your surroundings, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.
Joel didn’t say anything as he gently pulled you into a kiss. Joel’s arms wrapped around you with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer as his lips met yours. The kiss was tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions that had been building between you—the longing, the pain, the hope. It was a moment of pure connection, where words weren’t necessary because everything you needed to say was conveyed in the way he held you, in the way his lips moved against yours.
As the kiss deepened, you could feel the weight of the world outside fading away, leaving only the two of you in this quiet, stolen moment. Joel’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, anchoring you to him. The way he kissed you was both gentle and possessive, as if he were afraid to let go, as if he needed this as much as you did.
“Need to…” He whispered against your lips, sounding almost desperate, running his hands down your waist to your ass.
Your breath became heave, feeling his hands roaming all your body as if you were the most precious treasure for him. Joel started leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it.
Your arched your back, moaning his name, making Joel go crazy. He grabbed you by your hips, effortlessly lifting you up to sit on the edge of your table, with him standing between your spread legs. Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire.
A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer.
as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you.
Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.
The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.
He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.
A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.
"Everything's f-" You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, traveling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.
"Oh" you breathed.
Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.
And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight.
He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need.
Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.
You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you.
He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you.
He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.
“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face.
“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.
He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.
His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other.
He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.
Your whimper got stuck on your throat when you felt his finger pushing through your hot entrance. You were already soaked and Joel lost his mind at the feeling of you squeezing around his finger. He attached his lips once again, drinking your moans as he started pumping his fingers, slowly then building up the pace. Your lips attached to his neck, leaving traces of your kissed on his skin, claiming him, possessive and graceful.
"Fuck….Bedroom," you whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.
Once you stepped in your room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.
You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.
You kept your lips attached as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body. He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.
He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire.
You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.
He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.
"Are you going to f-"
You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.
"Don’t be a brat” he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.
Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly caressed your core. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.
"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.
His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.
He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.
"Joel, please…" you grumbled.
He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.
You gripped the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.
He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.
"You're beautiful like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"
He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.
As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.
You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.
And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.
"Fuck me…" you said in ecstasy,
"I’m doing it" he retorted.
You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.
He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.
Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.
"You can stay with me," you whispered as leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. “You're exactly where you should be."
The next day, you and Joel were assigned to patrol together, as usual. The morning air was crisp, the kind that stung your cheeks but made you feel alive. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden hue over the frost-covered ground. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine settling between you.
As you reached the outskirts of Jackson, Joel suddenly veered off the usual path. You followed him, curiosity piqued, until you realized where he was leading you. Your steps faltered slightly when you saw the familiar spot—where you had buried your boyfriend, the place where you had said your final goodbye.
Joel paused a few steps ahead, turning to look at you. His expression was serious, yet there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I know this is hard,” he said quietly, “but there’s something I need to do. Something I need to say.”
You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of the moment settled over you. Joel took a deep breath and stepped closer to the simple marker that marked your boyfriend’s resting place. He knelt down, his hand resting on the earth as if he were speaking directly to the man buried beneath it.
“I know you were everything to her,” Joel began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And I know I’m not trying to replace you. But I care about her. I want to be there for her, protect her, and make her happy. I just… I need your permission to do that.”
The sincerity in Joel’s voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You had never imagined a moment like this—Joel, who was usually so guarded, so tough, asking for the blessing of a man he’d never met, all for you.
“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning but now she is everything for me, and I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her.”
“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning,” Joel continued, his voice thick with regret. “But she’s everything to me now. And I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her. I’ll protect her, cherish her, and give her the kind of love she deserves. I swear it.”
You watched as Joel’s hand lingered on the ground, his thumb tracing small circles over the earth as if sealing his vow. The sight of him, this strong, stoic man who had been through so much, baring his soul in front of your boyfriend’s grave, made your tears fall freely.
Joel stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he was giving the moment the gravity it deserved. When he turned to face you, there was a determination in his eyes, but also a softness—a quiet understanding that this wasn’t just about him, but about the both of you moving forward together.
He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “I hope that’s enough,” he said quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “I hope I’m enough.”
You took his hand, pressing it against your cheek, feeling the warmth of his touch soothe the ache in your chest. “You are, Joel,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You are more than enough.”
With those words, something shifted between you—something deeper, more profound than before. It was as if, in that moment, you were finally laying to rest the ghosts of your past, giving yourself permission to embrace the future you wanted with Joel.
Joel leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and then to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a promise that went beyond words. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of hope, and of a love that was both fragile and unbreakable.
“I lost my mind for you,” he repeated, his gaze intense and unwavering. “And I would always go back to that just to love you.”
You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. “And I would choose you every time,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “Through everything.”
Joel’s eyes softened, and he pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes. You stood there, holding each other, finding solace in the shared silence and the comfort of each other’s presence.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the landscape, you both knew that while the world outside was still harsh and unforgiving, within the space you created together, there was a sanctuary, a place where love, even in its most fragile form, could flourish and grow.
I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.
💌 tags: @dreamtofus @paperstarzzz @chewie-bars @hotleaf-juice
@riedswifts @dizzyforyou @prideandaesthetic @chateaujoon @pascalions
@18dmlk @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @frogjumps-world @camy-nyancat @sarahhxx03 @jasminedragoon @cuteanimalmama @eleganthottubfun @skysmiller @nana90azevedo @astralqueenoc
@missladym1981 @persephone-girl @darka-moon @beltzboys2015-blog @sptbear @joelsteinfeld @astralqueenoc @bishtrouille
@locaparapedrito @wolfbook87 @picketniffler @axelspin @pedrotease @mclibs23 @feliciab1990 @swornkisses @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kirsteng42 @lostfleurs @guelyury @devonispunk @harriedandharassed @wolfbook87 @niffala @animechik555 @gypsystarchaser42 @geralallfandoms @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @goodvibesonly421 @negansbestie @bambisweethearts @jessthebaker @tuquoquebrute @somedayheaven @ashleyfilm
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal
468 notes
·
View notes
Text
STARTED OUT WITH A KISS, HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS?
✸ pairing: rockstar! percy jackson x ballerina! reader
✸ synopsis: after months of sneaking around behind the media’s backs, you and your boyfriend make your relationship public!
✸ warnings: not proofread. like, at all.
✸ notes: hey so im alive btw…. so here’s pt.2 to could you make it any more obvious?
“are you sure you want to do this?”
you asked the question for the millionth time, finger hovering over the bright blue button on your phone screen, identical to the one percy was eager to press.
the two of you sat together with phones in hand, seconds away from making instagram posts that would launch your relationship to the public after months of sneaking around. even though you’d already been caught once or twice…
“sweetheart, how many times do i have to tell you yes until you believe me?” percy chuckled, looking at you with those kind eyes of his.
this was his idea, for crying out loud. you knew that the media would eat it right up, with the two of you confirming their month-long suspicions and dating rumors.
that being said, you also knew that there’d be a lot more backlash from his fans than yours. who cares if a popular ballerina got a boyfriend, right?
but a eligible, hot, bachelor rockstar that had millions of fangirls all around the world?
oh, you were totally in for it.
one of the great things about percy was that he seemed to not only have great musical talent, but also the ability to read your mind.
“look, i can’t promise you that making everything public will be easy, though i think not having to sneak around definitely will,” a laugh out of both him and you. “but what i can promise is that whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”
that paired with a reassuring squeeze to your leg drew a smile right onto your face. you took a deep breath, reassured that no matter what happened, you still had him.
“okay,” you nodded, skimming over your Instagram caption one last time. “i’m ready.”
“on the count of three?” percy asked, holding his phone directly beside yours.
“one…”
“two…”
“three.”
together, you clicked post and watched as the upload line chased the edge of the screen until finally, it was public. everything was public.
dropping his phone on the couch, percy wrapped his arms around your abdomen and squeezed, pulling you from the cushions until you landed in his lap.
with a shriek of surprise followed by a fit of laughter from you both, you held his face in your hands, grinning at it another like two idiots in love, which you were.
“alright, swan lake,” he smiled, face close to yours. “everything just changed.”
“i don’t think so, not really,” you shrugged. “i’m still me. we’re still us. only difference is now we don’t have to go sneaking down alleys to avoid people.”
“always a bright side with you,” your boyfriend swooned at the mere sight and sound of you, his eyes filled with nothing but adoration and love. you could’ve sworn you saw hearts in his eyes.
“well, you are mr. brightside.”
that reference to one of his songs was all it took. percy leaned back into the couch cushions, pulled you with him, and kissed you so good that it didn’t matter what anyone commented on social media.
instagram!!
…now playing: last call — greek symphony
officially.yn: yeah, my boyfriend’s pretty cool 🤍🎸
tagged: impercyjacks
view all comments
impercyjacks: wow who’s that hottie in the last picture?? 😍
╰┈➤ officially.yn: idk, some musician 🤷♀️
its.piper.mclean: you big fucking liar, I KNEW IT
╰┈➤ officially.yn: I’M SORRY PIPES, I PROMISE I WANTED TO TELL YOU
╰┈➤ its.piper.mclean: I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS 😭😭 breaking up with you IMMEDIATELY, yn ln
╰┈➤ officially.yn: NO, piper bby don’t do this 😔
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: i am RIGHT here
user45: YL LN AND PERCY JACKSON WEREN’T ON MY 2024 BINGO CARD BUT IM SO HERE FOR IT
username: THE LDR CAPTION OMFG
╰┈➤ user72: and HIS BAND’S song playing???
╰┈➤ username: I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE THST OMG YOURE SO RIGHT
the.leovaldez: i KNEW i wasn’t crazy
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: bffr. you didn’t know SHIT
╰┈➤ the.leovaldez: I KNEW YOU WERE SNEAKING AROUND W SOMEONE
╰┈➤ jasegrace: leo. frank’s deaf cat knew he was sneaking around with someone.
╰┈➤ frankzhang: you leave maisie out of this.
username: THE COUPLE OF THE CENTURY OMFG
user289: this is THE hard launch of all hard launches
╰┈➤ user: but was this REALLY the launch, or was it all those tabloid articles 👀👀
impercyjacks: spoiler alert: she didn’t break my heart & i did, in fact, see her again ;)
╰┈➤ user: OMFG LAST CALL IS ABOUT YN???
╰┈➤ username: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR
impercyjacks: love you, swan lake 🤍
…now playing: paparazzi — lady gaga
impercyjacks: but i’m not as cool as her 🩷🩰
tagged: officially.yn
view all comments
officially.yn: last pic was not necessary.
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: but you look so cute :((
username: HE HAS A GF?? MY LIFE IS ABSOLUTELY OVER
╰┈➤ user293: girl get a grip….
╰┈➤ user: okay but like the gf is YN LN, it’s okay
the.leovaldez: yeah and guess who knew first? ME
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: actually…that was jason
╰┈➤ the.leovaldez: …. GUESS WHO KNEW SECOND?? ME 🗣️🗣️
username: girls, we lost him 😔
jasegrace: thank god, im sick of keeping your secret
╰┈➤ officially.yn: didn’t you tell us once that it felt like gossip girl?
╰┈➤ jasegrace: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY BW THE THREE OF US
username: YN LN AND PERCY JACKSON ONFG COUPLE OF THE YEAR
its.piper.mclean: im forwarding every last piece of media paper work to you.
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: send it on over 🫡
╰┈➤ its.piper.mclean: YOURE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUCKIN HAPPY ABOUT IT
user29: majority of the pictures just being her 🥹
╰┈➤ fan9: and the fact that the FIRST one’s her, so she’s on his feed now
username: isn’t yn ln like…a terrible dancer? she’s so overrated fr
╰┈➤ impercyjacks: shouldn’t you like….get a fucking life??
╰┈➤ user28: OH GAH DAMN
╰┈➤ fan28: GAGGED THEM FR
╰┈➤ user18: OHHHH HE DOESNT PLAY WHEN IT COMES TO HIS WOMEN
officially.yn: i love you so big, rockstar ♥️
#୨୧ love letters#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo fandom#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson smau#percy jackson x you#percy jackson imagine
508 notes
·
View notes
Text
˚₊‧꒰ა Why are you stuck in the same loop? + use your senses at your advantage ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Sometimes I want to slap myself because I have those epiphanies just now. Ahem, so.. You know why you are on the same loop and living the same thing over and over again?
Because you are taking consciousness of one reality.
Let me explain :
Let's say that you want to manifest.. An apparance change for... 4 years. It's been 4 years.
You haven't changed.
Why? Because with your senses you are seing the same reflection, hearing the same comments about your body, sensing your body Tight in your clothes.
And by using your senses you are :
-Going straight to the end
-experience it in the present
-embodying a state.
When my parents and my siblings were going to France without me, I was seeing them preparing the bagages, hearing them talking about their day in DisneyLand or the Eiffel tower. Smelling the new clothes they bought online etc.
I was immersed.
But what I did, I went upstairs, closed the door and asked myself :
'' What if I was part of that trip? ''
Then I saw myself with them at the airport, Eiffel tower, Disneyland. I was hearing the airport calls, my sister's talking, feeling the plane seats, the seat of the boarding area.
Again I was immersed.
And guess what?
-I was going straight to the end
-experienced it in the present
-Embodying a state.
It's litterally the SAME PROCESS!!!
With my visualisation of me in Paris :
-My ticket was paid, I traveled with them, I've already made the trip,I was there.
It was all implied because I was experiencing beyond those points.
I could have dwell on my 3d senses, because it's a '' logical '' following. If I trusted my 3d I would have stay alone at my house because the 3d was showing me that I wasn't about to go with them.
But I immersed myself in another reality with my heart 4D senses .
And you can do it with other topic :
-What if I wake up in another reality?
-What if I had my desired body?
-What if this Sp was my boyfriend?
What would it look,sound, smell, feel and taste like? (usually only sight, hearing and touch are used lol)
Btw... I manifested so much food with that.. Like '' How would it be If I could eat that? Then I imagined myself like Nom nom it tastes good)🍔🍕🥧🍰
And last point..
Marilyn Monroe asked herself '' What it would look like if I was so pretty that everyone would look at me? ''
Michael Jackson asked himself '' What it would look like if I was the best artist of this generation? ''
Neville Goddard asked himself '' What it would look like if I was in Barbados? '' or '' What it would look like if I was at Home with my wife and my daughter? ''
And then BAM they used their senses and embodied the state.
#loa tumblr#robotic affirming#loassumption#law of assumption#manifestation#loa assumptions#loa blog#affirming loa#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#affirm and persist
478 notes
·
View notes
Text
calling all PJO fanfic readers!
In the interest of acknowledging great works by fandom writers, DemigodPolls is going to share a big year-end collection of 2024 Percy Jackson fanfic recommendations! In the comment section below or on this AO3 post, leave recommendations for the best PJO fanfics you've read - but there is one major rule: they MUST have been published or last updated in 2024! No exceptions! Reblogs are turned on, but please do NOT leave your recommendations in the reblogs/tags! They will not be considered! Before commenting, make sure that you read the additional specifications below the cut first. If you have nothing to recommend, please do reblog to help support fandom writers and spread the word! Thank you!!!
What we want:
strong grammar
strong writing skills
accurate/interesting depictions of PJO characters
angst/romance/drama/adventure/friendship/character studies/etc
accurately tagged stories (i.e. stories that don't surprise you with untagged triggering content)
stories written with love for the percy jackson universe and its characters
What we DON'T want:
stories that were published/last updated before 2024
stories about ships that would be age-inappropriate in canon, unless the characters are CLEARLY aged up in the story (e.g. no olympians x teenage characters, unless the younger character is explicitly an ADULT when they first meet in the fanfic)
stories that contain non-c*n, inc*st, p*dophilia
stories under 1000 words
stories that fall under "character x everyone"
stories about original characters (stories that contain some OCs in non-protagonist roles are fine, character x reader/self-inserts are fine)
stories that bash other ships/characters (i.e., don't recommend percabeth fics that bash rachel/perachel)
stories that contain non-PJO crossovers (except for RRverse crossovers, i.e. pjo + tkc is fine, toa alone is fine, tkc alone is not, pjo + harry potter is not)
stories that contain gore/extreme violence/extreme bodily harm
stories that contain cheating/infidelity (I just don't want to read those, sorry)
dialogue-only fanfics/texting-only fanfics
stories that contain W*TTG sp0ilers
can I recommend multiple things?
yes! just make sure to categorize them correctly under the relevant prompts.
can I recommend my own story?
yes, but you are highly, highly encouraged to simultaneously recommend at least one other fanfic that you yourself did not write - let's spread the love! (not required)
is smut okay?
yes! but you must specify clearly that the story contains smut in your comment, and please don't use explicit/overly sexual language in your recommendation. I also reserve the right to refuse to consider stories that contain k*nks I don't want to engage with. (ab0, hardcore bd$m, parental name k*nk to name a few)
are non-english fanfics okay?
you are absolutely welcome to recommend non-english fanfics to others in the comments! but I will not be able to put them on the final recommendation list, because I only speak english and I cannot personally vet their contents, cannot observe their grammar, and could be terribly misled by a translator. I'm very sorry! however, if you would like to put together a similar recommendation collection of non-english stories, I'd be happy to promote it on this blog.
is percico okay?
someone asked about this specifically, so here's my stance: percico is a controversial pairing due to the debated inappropriateness of the canon age gap (approx. 3 years). I personally consider 3 years between minors to be juuust beyond my comfort zone (2 years), so please respect my decision to abide by my own comfortability and refuse to consider stories that feature age gaps of this size or larger involving minors. however, you can recommend percico fics where the age gap is explicitly made smaller, or fics where nico and percy are both explicitly adults! this same rule applies to any other ship in a similar circumstance - check the wiki for canon ages if you're unsure! (and to be clear, this is solely about ages, not about the individual merit of the pairing itself. respectfully - this is me drawing a boundary about what I am comfortable with, so do not argue with me on this topic).
is caleo okay?
this pair is even more controversial nowadays, so here's my stance when it comes to weird magical circumstances: within the logic of the pjo universe, some things that seem strange from a mortal perspective are standard within the books. i.e., it's not weird to date fellow demigods, even if the person you're dating is technically your aunt/uncle/cousin/etc. likewise, it's not "weird" for a teenager to date an immortalized or de-immortalized teenager, because... I genuinely don't know, that's just how the book logic works. for that reason, caleo works are accepted. we're going to apply this same logic to pairs like theyna, which could also potentially have murky circumstances (although I do consider thaluke to be especially iffy, because it heavily depends on the situation that people write them in - so if you're unsure, go ahead and submit it, and I'll use my best judgement from there). however, I cannot begin to express my extreme disinterest in discourse about immortal dating ethics - like, I would rather do anything else. not trying to be sassy here, but I'm going to ask you guys to not pick a fight about these topics, for the simple reason that I have zero interest in debating over situations that could never occur in real-life.
are incomplete/discontinued stories okay?
yes! I'd prefer stories that have at least three chapters, but this is not required. completed one-shots are also fine!
If someone already recommended a story that I like, should I vouch for it?
if you would like to, then absolutely!! you can respond to the appropriate prompt from this account in the comments, or you can reply to the person making the recommendation. just make sure to explicitly state which story you're advocating for.
Comments that do not follow these guidelines may be deleted!
How to make recommendations:
There are two places in which you can make your recs! You can click here to leave them on an AO3 mirror of this post, or do so in the comment section below. If the latter, continue reading. Please leave the story name, author username, story rating, main ship, and main characters in your comments - and if you'd like, definitely add some words about why you like it! AO3 direct links are not necessary, but super appreciated. But if it's not on AO3, please ensure that you make clear where exactly I can locate the story. In the comments below, you'll see comments that you can reply to, sorted by ships/lack thereof. Please sort your recommendations by replying to them accordingly (i.e. if you want to recommend 2 solangelo fics and 1 valgrace fic, leave the 2 solangelo recs under the solangelo prompt, then do the same in the valgrace prompt). You MUST explicitly state somewhere if the fanfic contains smut. If you're not sure where to put your recommendations, make your best guess - but absolutely do NOT intentionally mis-categorize your recommendations (i.e, if the pair is not canon, do not put it in the canon pairing section. Seriously. This makes things much more difficult for me while organizing fics, and I'll probably delete your comment anyway.) Lastly, please be mature about shipping. Nothing irritates me more than fighting about percy jackson ships in 2024. If you see fanfics recommended about pairings (or characters!) that you hate, do the mature thing and just scroll past it/do not engage. Character hate and ship hate is not tolerated on this blog. I am very serious about this - if you are starting a fuss about ships/characters, your comments will be deleted and your account will be permanently blocked. Respect your fellow fandom-mates! I will do my best to moderate this comment section, but before looking through them, please understand that I am not responsible for your individual well-being, and there may be fanfic recommendations that are not appropriate for minors/might contain triggering content/etc.
Here's a little form for those of you who find this easier to use, but you don't have to use it!! However, PLEASE do include the following information in your comment regardless:
story name: author: rating: ship: main characters: additional comments (what's it about? why do you like it? etc):
Don't forget, fanfics published/last updated in 2024 only!
Thank you so, so much for participating! The collection won't be published on this blog until late December, so until then, take your time, check those bookmarks, and read new PJO fanfics! Much love to all of you ♡
- demigodpolls
(art by @viria)
(dividers by @cafekitsune)
#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#nico di angelo#hazel levesque#percy jackson#frank zhang#jason grace#annabeth chase#leo valdez#piper mclean#percabeth#solangelo#frazel#valzhang#valgrace#jasico#jercy#frazeleo#theyna#pipabeth#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x reader#jason grace x reader#valdangelo#jiper#jasiper#pjo hoo toa#rrverse#reyna avila ramirez arellano
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wintry dance
Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?
Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, unspecified age gap, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).
A/N Hey there, I'm sorry to make you wait almost a month between one chapter and another, but I really care about writing everything well and so I often take more time to write. I hope you like it as much as I do and if you don't like it, please be merciful. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️
Masterlist
follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Taglist: @harriedandharassed
Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.
Winter comes and even the first snowflakes begin their wintry dance.
You love snow, from time immemorial. It gives you the idea of magic. You find yourself to smile behind the windows of the house.
Your life is finally regular, no unexpected events, no runaways, nothing. Everything is. . . strangely normal. You still struggle to get used to all this!
It's good for you. Finally you are not afraid anymore, you sleep in a really comfortable bed, you have a regular breakfast, lunch and dinner. You started going out with guys around your age a few days ago, you get out with Dina and Jesse even if they're younger than you, but it's okay. They are funny. And all you need now is to relax and let go a little, at least as much as you can.
From time to time, Jesse or Dina or sometimes Tommy call you for patrols and you go. You are really good to shoot with a bow, it's what people say about you and it's okay because it means you became part of a community, part of something and it's not bad as you thought.
Well, that's not all rosy. . . there's Joel who never changes his icy courtesy, after those strange moments you experienced together a few days ago. Not a word to you more than necessary, not a glance more than necessary. You don't know how long you can stay here in his house. Sooner or later he will tell you to go away, you're sure of it.
Where will you go? Probably you'll go to Dina's or Maria's. . . no idea.
Today it's your 40th patrol and you'll go with Joel. The idea doesn't excite you, but you don't want to be a troublemaker for anyone. Joel's annoyed look is enough.
The only sound is the hoof of horses in the snow, it's a good sound. Snow doesn't fall and at least you can find the way to go back to Jackson.
The two of you don't say a word, you often look at each other to point to a prey or if one of you see an infected. You kill at least three of those clickers before to get off the horse and heading into the forest. Joel is by your side, he's quiet, precise and a couple of times kills two runners who tried to reach you. You look at him surprised, "Thanks," you say.
"Uh, uh," it's his only reply.
After ten feet you ask him, "Those things were uhm. . ." you whisper.
"Runners, yeah." he says in the same tone as your.
"But it means. . ."
"It means they have recently turned into infected."
"So, it's probably. . ."
"Yeah, it's probably some of those things are somewhere around here."
You swallow looking at him, you are not afraid, it's not your first time. But you usually kill them alone and so you didn't have to think to anyone else except you, "Afraid?" he asks.
You look at him "No, but I always faced 'em alone. I never watched someone's back before."
"‘s okay, you won't start today," he says before to start to walk turning his back to you.
In some places, snow is deeper so your steps are slower and you often sunk, a couple of times Joel gives his hands to you to reach a higher point or to help you to walk, his hands are bigger than yours and his grip is firm. He holds you until you don't reach him then he abruptly lets go of your grip as if the mere contact with you bothers him.
Finally you see a deer, it's a good prey, you hold the string and then you let the arrow fly, the deer has no escape. Your arrow hits its neck, the poor deer tries to escape, but it falls to the ground dead.
"You really good," Joel says when the two of you reach the deer and he pulls the arrow away from its neck "I thought everyone was exaggerating,” he adds, bringing you right back down to earth.
"Thanks, let's take it away," you say tying it with a double rope so the two of you can drag it away.
You two don't talk on the way back, partly because of the cold and partly because you don't know what to say to each other. You hoped that that half-compliment would bring about a slight change in your relationship, but instead he immediately underlined his opinion of you. You only glance at each other from time to time and then return to focus on the road ahead of you.
The two of you reach your horses where you double rope the deer and then take off again and head towards Jackson.
"I can't wait to drink two large glasses of wine and fall asleep," he says, closing his eyes almost as if he's already savoring that moment, you notice how two dimples form on the sides of his cheeks when he gets that rare relaxed expression and you can't help but smile "What? Why d' ya smile?"
You shrug your shoulders, "When you make that face you're funny" you say unable to get your smile back.
"Glad to hear that! So, I'm some kind of clown!" he exclaims.
"No, clowns have always made me sad." you reply by wrinkling your nose.
When you look up at Joel, you see him staring at you, you frown in confusion.
“So, what is it that you like?” he asks you.
"Tsk, I know you're only asking out of politeness, not out of interest," you say.
Joel doesn't answer, you probably hit the nail on the head, you look ahead, you know he can't stand you.
It's evening. It's snowing again outside and it's very cold. Joel prepared the fire and strangely he didn't freeze you with his gaze nor did he give you the usual look with which he chases you away, you prepare a soup with meat and you bring him a plate that you place on his coffee table, then you turn your back and go to the kitchen, you're used to act like this with him. On the kitchen island there is also a hot dish for you that you prepared earlier, after two spoonfuls you hear a husky voice coming from the other room, "Why don't you come over to the fireplace? It's cold tonight."
You turn towards the fire and see Joel looking at you with the dish you prepared for him in his hands, "Come, won't bite" you look at his face as if to understand if he is joking or serious, his gaze is concentrated, but not hostile as usual so you nod, you get off the stool and you join him taking your dish with you.
He's sitting in an armchair, while you sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You look at him furtively at least a dozen times, then seeing him calmly eating, you imitate him.
The fire produces a familiar and pleasant crackling sound which heats both of you quickly and paints the walls and your faces a deep orange and black nuances.
"‘s good this soup!" he says savoring your dish down to the last spoonful.
"I'm glad you like it," you say, "is there any other dish you might like to eat? I can't guarantee success, but I'll try!" you exclaim trying to talk civilly with him without being attacked or cold-shouldered by his words..
He shakes his head, "Whatever it is, it'll be fine," he reassures you.
You nod.
For a while you only hear the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the burning wood, it's a strange but pleasant silence.
"You asked me earlier what it is that I like." you say after a while "I love the snow, seeing the snowflakes swirling in the air creating those little swirls. I love the expanses of wild flowers in spring or see a pristine meadow. I love going to the beach to see the ocean waves crash on the shore when summer arrives and then in autumn I love the carpets of red, yellow, brown leaves," you smile staring at the fire.
"You like nature, but. . . nothing about relationships with other people," he notes, you look up "You don't trust ‘em or is there some other reason?" he asks looking at you.
You bite your bottom lip, you find yourself looking at his face for a few moments before sighing, "Never mind. It's none of my business and I don't even care," he replies, suddenly freezing the room "Have you finished?" he asks you, getting up from the chair and pointing to the now empty plate in your hands, “Sure,” you reply.
"Good, gimme," he says, holding out his hand to take the plate that you immediately hand him, "If you wanna, stay close to the fire a little longer." he says as he's about to take his leave.
"Joel," he pauses, "I know I'm a burden to you, someone to get rid of, but I promise you, I'll try not to make you feel my presence too much, I know you don't wanna me around" you tell him, turning your torso partially towards him "when maybe they build more houses, I'll leave."
Joel stares at you in the semi-darkness and then he walks away without saying a word.
Actually, you love many other things, but you still don't feel completely at ease with Joel and above all he just admitted that deep down he doesn't really care what you like or what you're interested in.
Joel washes those two plates and those two spoons at least twenty times. He doesn't know what to replicate to your words and therefore he delays the moment when he will find himself alone with you again. The truth is he doesn't know what he wants right now. You're still a burden, you're still a hindrance to his routine, but it's become harder to treat you badly now. Maybe it was Tommy's words, maybe Ellie's or maybe it was you with all your unspoken words, your sweetness, your attitude, your look that made him understand that he's not the only one who suffers from something.
He pours himself a drink, he places his lips against the glass, but then he thinks better and puts the glass down.
"Fuck!" he exclaims, then dries the dishes and finally joins you.
By the time he reaches you, you are fast asleep. You're on your stomach and hugging the sofa cushion.
He watches you, he runs a hand through his hair, then takes two blankets and he places them on you. You visibly relax, Joel can even swear he saw you smile and twice in the same evening is a lot.
He sits in the armchair and turns on the small light on the side table, he puts on his reading glasses and then takes a book from the drawer of the side table.
He reads several pages, stopping every now and then when he hears you moan meaningless words in your sleep or when he sees you wrinkle your forehead. He takes off his glasses and places the book on the side table, he puts out the fire and puts on the spark arrestor, then fixes the blankets for you, he gives you one last look and then leaves. When he gets into bed, he realizes that it's the first time in probably months that he has reached his room sober.
When you wake up the next day, you have two warm, thick blankets over you. You stretch and yawn loudly, then you sit up and realize you're not in your bed, but in Joel's living room.
Did he let you stay here to sleep? This is really weird.
You get up and fold the blankets to the side, then you go to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee, it has a unique taste, but it's not that bad.
It's been a long time since you drank coffee. . .
You decide to make one for Joel, he's an asshole, but he'll still host you at his house. You take a cup that you imagine is his with an owl on it, you smile. The owl actually represents him very well, it's a nocturnal, solitary and extremely territorial animal.
You pour the coffee into the cup and go upstairs, the door to his room is almost completely closed, you knock weakly a couple of times, then open it. Joel is lying face up in the center of the bed, his arms completely open so that he takes up the entire bed, the pulled aside covers show his exposed torso.
You watch his thick fingers full of small cracks and cuts, his hands relaxed, his face is a mixture of sweetness and masculinity, the wrinkles are barely noticeable, the lips parted, his chest is broad as it looked and you watch a lot of scratches and a very large old scar on his abdomen.
You swallow, you lower your head unsure about what to do or what to say, maybe you have to go back to the hall and knock again and pretend you didn't stare at him for so long. You can almost hear his voice thundering against you.
Yes, you'll do so.
You are about to get out, when you hear him move into the bed and mumbles something to you, you clearly hear your name so you slowly turn your back to the door again, fuck. . .
"Hey, that's my mug!" he says with a sleepy expression and tone of voice.
You clear your throat and then you offer his cup, "Yeah, it is. Here."
He sits in the center of the bed exposing even more his torso. You look at him or rather you look at his bare chest.
He follows your gaze, “Oh, fuck. . . sorry, I'm wearing a t-shirt," Joel apologizes, as you see him lean towards a nearby chair and cover himself.
You look everywhere but him who is now wearing a grey shirt and reaches out a hand towards the cup you're holding out to him and begins to sip his coffee.
"D' ya feel uncomfortable?" he asks you all of a sudden.
You look at him again, "N - n - no," you say barely hold his gaze.
"‘s okay, darlin'. I won't bite." he says putting the cup on his bedside table "Comin' in a while, I'll see ya downstairs, okay?" you nod before to leave.
Darling?
No one has ever used these nicknames and above all you don't expect them from a person who is so openly hostile towards you.
Joel is a living enigma. He says such harsh words, but then he does such sweet things like tucking you in. You don't understand.
You walk down the stairs slowly feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest. When you reach the kitchen, it almost feels like someone has sucked the air out of your lungs.
Ralph. . . the thought of him suddenly comes back violently before your eyes.
You pour some cold water into a glass and sip it slowly, “Fuck...” you murmur sitting on a stool, you place your hands on the shelf feeling your head spin, you close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, counting from fifty backwards.
When you regain control of yourself, you get up and go out onto the porch, you find yourself thinking that you need to get out of this house as soon as possible.
In a certain sense your life has improved, you think, you have friends, days that are almost identical to each other, you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, but your nightmares continue to haunt you.
You have pain everywhere. He beat you mercilessly, he punched you under an eye, he violently squeezed your wrists while he raped you, you stagger, you want to report what you lived, but in the QZ, when they saw you in that state, they thought you had been bitten and they pointed all sorts of weapons at you. You were shaking, you peed on yourself, you were raped and they were pointing guns at you and looking at you like you were filthy. After verifying that you were not infected, they listened to you, but their response was that they have much more serious problems than yours, that's what an officer told you when you told him why you were covered in blood and bruises. You are treated and a nurse gives you a painkiller, the same scene repeats itself before your eyes without stopping, you can't breathe. You fall asleep seeing Ralph push himself inside you with increasing violence and feeling your flesh tear under his thrusts.
You wake up with a start, screaming and waving your hands in the air to free yourself from his grip. You sit up and bring your knees close to your chest, you place your hands on your ears and burst into tears.
NEXT CHAPTER ➢
#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro boys#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fic#joel x reader#joel fic#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel x you#joel x oc#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x you#joel hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#joel miller self insert#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal as joel miller#smut#joel x f!reader
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
first halloween... gone wrong? | dms drabble #4
word count: 1.6k words
synopsis: halloween was never your favorite. you would choose christmas over it in a heartbeat, but with your dorky drummer boyfriend who absolutely loves it never leaving your side, you might just tolerate the spooky holiday. (set in the drum me, stupid universe but can be read as a standalone!)
warnings: a knife is mentioned, the dms!couple is flirty and GROSS, but most of this is just fluff.
a/n: HIIII 😭 jirsungs nation, rise! it's been 2 weeks since any story related post has been uploaded, and i just want to deeply apologize for not being here ): i missed writing and putting my delusions down in a google doc. but i hope you guys enjoy this short drum me stupid drabble and missed these cutie patooties as much as i did ☹️ as always, feedback is ALWAYS loved and appreciated! happy reading <3
You were never fond of Halloween. Sure, you loved being able to go all out in costumes and go to Halloween parties with your friends, but you knew immediately that once those plans were over, you were left in your own accompaniment once again.
Some people would be joyful with spending the rest of their nights after parties and such alone, but you? You were used to the party scene and loved it when it never ended. Lucky for you, your dorky boyfriend of a few months, Park Jisung, always kept the party going.
“Hey, have you guys seen Ji?” You asked Ningning and her boyfriend, Jeno, after finally spotting them dancing together on the dance floor. Your voice was louder than usual due to Michael Jackson's Thriller bumping from the party speakers.
“No, we thought he was with you." Ning looks over to Jeno. “I thought he came with you and the guys.”
You both wait for Jeno's reply, but he just shrugs. “He was supposed to, but he was the last one to get ready. If anyone knows where he is, that's Chenle.”
You click your tongue. “I figured. I'm going to keep looking for him. Thanks, guys!”
Ning’s shout of “Good luck!” was the last thing you heard before you committed to walking through the crowd of musty bodies. You were surprised at how many people went all out on their Halloween costumes this year. Your surprise wasn't a bad thing though; if anything, you loved it.
You almost second-guessed your choice of costume. With you and Ning being the only girls in the group, you felt that it was right if the both of you matched. The angel costumes were cute; you were wearing a black tight dress while she wore white, but taking a look at the decided costumes this year, you began to feel basic.
Once you're out of the crowd, you spot Haechan, Mark, and Yeonjun in the corner. You take notice of Yeonjun trying his best to impress some girl while the two boys next to him silently judge, taking occasional sips out of their red solo cups.
Haechan, in his Pennywise makeup and attire, sees you walking towards them, tilting his head at your costume. “What are you supposed to be? A demonic angel?”
Mark snickers at his friend's comment, which you pout at. “No. I'm just an angel who happens to wear black. And says you, Pennywise, isn't your costume like... super basic?”
Haechan gasps, his hand on his chest for the dramatic effect. Mark rolls his eyes and answers your question instead.
“Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.”
“Ahhh… So, that explains your Leatherface mask.”
With a nod of his head, Mark replies with a “Yup.”
You glance back at the party, and the sudden remembrance of why you came up to them in the first place hits you. “Oh! By the way, have you guys seen Jisung? I literally can't find him anywhere.��
Your body physically sulks at their answers, telling you they haven't seen him in a while. With your hope slowly decreasing and the urge to ditch the party increasing, you decide to call him one last time. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll cut the party short and head home, unfortunately finding the comfort of your bed more enjoyable than being here. You loved the company of your friends, but it bummed you out that you haven’t seen your boyfriend all night after him telling you that he’ll be here.
After bidding your goodbyes to the group and giving Jeno the responsibility to get Ning home safely, you make your way to your car. It's late October with the breeze finally coming through, resulting in you rubbing your arms in hopes for warmth. As you walk, your ears pick up on the sounds of your heels clicking against the sidewalk cement until they pick up another pair of footsteps near you. At first, you don’t sweat it, already aware of the scattered groups outside of the frat.
But as you walk more down towards your car, the shuffling footsteps don’t leave you. Okay, you’ve had enough of this. Your slight irritation was slowly increasing due to this sudden interruption of your plans to waste the rest of your night away by changing out of this angel get-up and watching comfort films.
The only person you craved to see you in this costume was nowhere to be found, anyway. Finally turning around, you face the person but stay near your car for safety reasons.
“Who are you, and why do you keep following me?” You ask.
You didn’t mean to have your words come out sharply, but when you found out your culprit to be someone in a Ghostface costume, it only made you roll your eyes.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re just here to mess with me, is it okay if you can choose someone else? I really don’t have the energy for this.”
A beat passes and still no response from the person. It was almost as if their feet were stuck in the cement; you were starting to feel chills at the creepy mask staring back at you. But then, your brain starts to put the pieces together.
The replay of what Mark told you earlier back at the party plays in your head. “Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” Would it be a coincidence that Jisung, who you haven’t seen all night, just happens to be right in front of you?
Your face softens at the thought of the mysterious Ghostface being your boyfriend. “Ji, baby, if that’s you, I’m going to smack you. Where have you been all night? I called you three times.”
Still no answer, but now they were slowly walking towards you, revealing what they were holding behind them to be a knife. From where you’re standing, you couldn’t tell if it’s real or a fake replica, but that doesn’t stop your grip on the driver seat handle tightening, ready to pull on it and get the hell out of here.
But you try one last time. “Okay, quit it. This isn't funny.”
By this point, the wondering thoughts of whether this was Jisung or not cloud your mind. You’re now close to each other, and the Ghostface still hasn’t said anything.
You know what? Fuck it! You’re not dying today!
You tug the car door open, ready to rush inside, but the masked John Doe shuts the door before you can. Their gloved hand doesn’t budge on the door, making their body lean against it and impossible for you to get inside.
The fact that they haven’t shoved the knife into your body by now has you suspicious and less frightened, but more agitated. Finally, they remove the mask from their face, revealing—
“Hi, pretty angel.”
Your stupid, cheekily smiling boyfriend.
He has no time to lean in and give you an apologetic kiss on the lips before you smack him on the chest and punch his arm. “You motherfucker!”
“Ow! What the hell was that for?”
Your eyes squint at him asking you that, resulting in another punch to his arm. “Don’t ‘what the hell was that for’ me! You scared the shit out of me!”
You’re about to smack his chest again, but Jisung’s reflex hits faster than yours. Not giving you another opportunity to hit him, he’s quick to take hold of both of your wrists, which you immediately try to get out of. You hate (love) how strong he’s been getting. With his constant drumming and going to the gym with the guys on the side, it became more and more difficult for you to get out of his grip.
With your hands unable to move, he takes the chance and plants quick kisses all over your face. Your face flusters quickly with you trying to move away from his lips. He knows he got you when your tugging to get out of his hands stops and you start giggling.
“Ji, stop it!” Your giggles only increase when his kisses do, leading him to drop your hands and place his on your waist instead.
“I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I wanted to keep up the bit of scaring you.” He says after giving you a big cheek kiss and pulling you closer to his chest.
You can’t stop the giddy smile forming on your face. “It’s okay. Just never scare me like that again or I will—” you point your pointy finger on his chest, almost in warning, creating some space between you two, “cut your balls off.”
But he pays no mind to your threat, smiling down at you like a loser in love. “Yes, ma’am. Never again.”
You encircle your arms around his waist, looking up at him doe-eyed. “Now, can we please go home and watch comfort movies?”
“Can I first admire how fuckin’ gorgeous you look in this and then go home?”
Oh. You forgot you had this costume on.
Your cheeks heat up at his words. “Language, Park. You could’ve admired this all you wanted earlier if you didn’t leave me alone the whole night.”
He pouts, “Will I at least see this costume some other time, baby?”
"Hmm.” You pretend to think. “I guess, you just have to wait and see.”
“Why wait when I can see it on you tomorrow?” There's a glint in his eyes, and you know it can only mean trouble.
“Easy, drummer boy.”
Little did he know that his almost insulting prank on you sparked an idea in your head. But it’s best to save that for next year, right?
You guess, with Park Jisung by your side, you wouldn’t mind waiting another year to see what other Halloween pranks he has in store for you.
#fic: drum me stupid#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct dream#park jisung fluff#park jisung x reader#park jisung imagines#park jisung scenarios#park jisung#nct jisung#jisung fluff#park jisung fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x female reader#nct dream x reader#park jisung x female reader#park jisung x you#nct scenarios#nct x female reader#nct x reader#nct 127#park jisung texts#nct dream texts#nct smau#nct drabbles#nct dream drabbles#park jisung smau
279 notes
·
View notes
Text
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 | Jackson Rippner
NOTES -> Happy spooky season! Since I didn't do kinktober, here is my gift to you instead...smut LOL
SUMMARY -> You're Jackson's boss, and you keep assigning him suicide missions just to spite him. He hates you, and you hate him, and all you do is get under each others skin, but truth be told, the only thing either of you secretly want is you underneath him.
WORD COUNT -> 2.6k
WARNINGS -> Smut, p in v, rough sex, choking (just a smidge), riding, sort of degrading sex, oral (f!receiving)
MASTERLIST
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
You looked up at the man standing in your office from the chair behind your desk, not bothering to act even the slightest bit interested in what he had to say — not when you were too invested in picking apart every fibre of his being.
“I’m sorry,” you said with a stiff smile, “remind me why you’re here again?”
“I have questions,” he replied, his glacial eyes scanning you up and down.
You gestured to the empty seat before your desk, ” Take a seat, Jackson.” He stared you down as he did so, looking at you with an almost malicious stare. “What can I help you with?”
You were Jackson’s boss — well, you were the entire organization's vice president. You had your favourite employees as many people in power secretly do, however, Jackson was most definitely not one of them. Sure, he always got the job done, quickly and discreetly, but he was unbearable.
He always criticized you as if you weren’t his boss, as if the future of his career and his life didn’t lie in your hands. Whether it was some sort of misogynistic comment or another form of something inappropriate, he would find a way to wind you up.
It was a constant push and pull between the two of you; he hated you and you hated him. The only difference was that you could punish him from your position and he had no choice but to take it. No matter what.
He took a deep breath before he spoke, leaning forward in his chair slightly. “I have questions about my newest assignment. The one regarding the assassination of that politician—“
“Oh, that one,” you sighed, flipping through some paperwork on your desk. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“Enjoy it?” He scoffed, getting up and slamming his hands down on your desk, to which you rolled your chair back and stood up, smirking in his face.
“That’s right,” you said smugly, coming over to the edge of your desk and leaning against it. Jackson kept a watchful eye on you as your tight pencil skirt hugged your curves and your blouse was accidentally unbuttoned just enough so that you couldn’t get in trouble with HR.
“You’re—“ Jackson growled, clenching his jaw as he restrained himself from saying what he wanted to say since you were still his boss after all. “You gave me minimal information about this case. How do you expect me to assassinate someone without any information on them?”
As he chose his words carefully and tried not to degrade you in every inhumane way possible, you tried not to giggle in his face. It was almost cute how he tried to be all intimidating, yet he had to tread lightly around you because of your leverage and power over him.
“Baby,” you cooed the pet name mockingly, leaning over slightly so that he could get a better view of what was down your blouse. “I promise I don’t bite — but if I do, I bet you’d like it. You look like you wanna say somethin’ to me, but…”
You watched his jaw clench once more, and you decided to keep egging him on. Jackson had to remind himself how much he hated you at this very moment because even though he wanted to kill you, he also wanted to slam you against your desk and have his way with you. You were the epitome of beauty and brains, undeniably.
Curse those tight skirts and revealing shirts and that perfect face of yours.
“I gave you a name, a time and a place,” you offered as you focused back on the subject at hand, tossing him a coy little smile, to which he’d never admit aloud, but he found frustratingly sexy. “If you bothered to read the file at all, you’d have seen that I also mentioned he has security around him pretty much all the time, so you’ll have to figure a way around that…”
“I fucking read it,” he snarled, jaw still clenched. “You think you’re so special, but in all reality, you and I both know I do this job better than you ever could.”
“If that were to be true, hypothetically speaking,” you paused, looking into his icy eyes once more, “you’d be in my position, but you aren’t. So until you’ve been promoted to VP, I suggest you shut your mouth.”
He took a deep breath as he started to pace lightly around the office, getting increasingly more frustrated. “You setting me up for failure, is that it?” He asked quietly.
You lean against the edge of your desk calmly as you take in his words, that smug expression still on your face. “If you can’t handle a little challenge, then maybe you’re in the wrong business.”
Jackson stepped closer to you, now just inches away from you, face to face. “You know I can handle it,” he said, voice low, “but you left details out on purpose.”
“Maybe I like seeing you sweat,” you say, voice dropping as you lean dangerously close to him. “Or maybe I just want to see how far you’ll go when you’re pushed.”
Jackson suddenly grabbed your arm harshly, his grip strong enough to surely leave a bruise later. “Is this fun for you?” He spat, bringing one of his hands to squeeze your throat, making you blush. “Pushing me around?”
“I think you like it as much as I do,” you wheezed, glossy eyes looking up at him lustfully. “You— wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
For a split second, the animosity of it all seemed to melt away, and the room was filled with a…different kind of tension. As his hand was wrapped around your throat, eyes locked on yours as if he could snap your neck right then and there (he could), the two of you found yourselves subconsciously inching closer and closer, lips just centimetres apart.
Before anything could happen, the door to your office swings open with you and Jacksons colleague standing there slightly stunned with files in his hand. He’s wide-eyed and visibly flustered.
Jackson's grip loosens slightly, but it takes him a few more seconds to fully let go of your neck. For a moment, it almost felt like he wasn’t ready to pull back. “Uh,” your colleague said stunned, “am I…interrupting something?”
“Clearly,” Jackson said under his breath, barely loud enough for you to even hear, poorly concealing his irritation.
“Not at all,” you say to your colleague, your gaze lingering on Jackson. “We were just…discussing something important.”
You and Jackson’s colleague shifted awkwardly, not sure what to say as he cleared his throat before speaking to the both of you. “Right. Um…I just came to give an update on the target. Should…I leave?”
The reality of the situation caused both you and Jackson to snap back into business mode, stepping away from each other as you snatched the files from your colleague's hands. “What’s the update?” Jackson asked curtly.
“Yes, let’s hear it. We have a job to do,” you said, gaze flickering over to Jackson as if to say get it together.
“The targets moved. Security’s tighter than we expected. We’ll need to adjust the timeline for the hit,” he explained, eyes darting between you and Jackson. “Should I get started on those adjustments, or…?”
“Yes, that would be great,” you nod, flipping through the file as you suddenly look towards Jackson. “We’ll finish this later.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said back to you, and you could’ve sworn you almost saw him crack a slight smile at you.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
That following week, you didn’t see Jackson. He wasn’t in the office — since he was out completing that assignment you gave him — and you hadn’t spoken.
As you stepped into your shower at home, you felt the warm water cascade down your body and all the tension of the work week leaving. You sighed blissfully as you unwinded, but before you could fully relax, a familiar feeling bubbled within you.
Working for years in the profession you did left you with a sharp set of skills — like knowing when you were being watched, for example. As the warm water and smell of your shampoo evaded your senses, you felt your heart rate start to accelerate.
Turning off the water slowly after showering, you slide the shower door open a smidge and stick your hand out to reach for your towel.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice you standing there, Jackson?” You call out from the shower, your voice steady with a hint of amusement. “It’s rude to show up without notice, you know. I’m off the clock.”
As you step out of the shower in just a towel, you see him standing there as expected, a little bruised but in good condition nonetheless. He clenched his jaw as his piercing blue eyes ran all over you, “The jobs done. Barely. Next time, try giving me the full picture.”
“You broke into my home to tell me that?” You’re unfazed by his entrance, as per usual, and continue your post-shower routine in your bathroom with Jackson still standing there. “You handled it. Like you always do. I didn't think you'd need hand-holding, Jackson.”
“Enough games,” he snarled, pulling you flush against him as his hand came to grip your face, forcing you to look at him. “This time, no interruptions. Tell me, do you push me like this because you want me to fail, or because you just can’t help yourself?”
You smile innocently at him, liking the way this is playing out. “You can handle being pushed, Jackson. You know that’s not why you’re really here. You made the effort to break into my house at nearly midnight, so you might as well take what you want…”
Suddenly, he had you slammed against your bathroom wall, and it all happened so quickly, but you were moaning in his mouth as he kissed you roughly. Immediately, his hands came to tug at your towel as yours simultaneously came to unbutton his dress shirt and toss off his blazer.
As the towel fell to the floor, Jackson squeezed your tits, rolling your nipple between his fingers skillfully as you let out a string of moans. “Oh,” you breathed as Jackson’s lips placed wet kisses against your neck, “Jackson…”
“D’you torture me on purpose, huh, baby?” He taunted, his voice causing you to clench your thighs together. “You wanted this to happen, didn’t you? You wanted me to come here and pin you down, put you in your fucking place.”
“Perhaps,” you teased back, almost panting from how hot it was in your bathroom. “But I think you like being under my control. I can see you looking down my blouses every time we chat, you know…”
“Can you blame me?” He replied almost mockingly, eyes running wild over your naked figure.
Before you could come up with a feasible response, he was picking you up to toss you onto your king-sized bed, spreading your thighs the second your skin touched the silk sheets. You tossed your head back as soon as you felt his tongue on your soaked cunt, and he gave your clit a teasing nip, causing you to let out a strangled sound.
“Look at that,” he said lowly, “fucking soaking. You like it dirty, don’t you? Fucking dripping down your thighs from being watched in the shower. You’re filthy.”
His words went straight to your core, making you arch your back as he continued to eat your pussy out deliciously. The way his tongue dipped into your hole made your head spin, and suddenly, you felt him slowly insert a digit into your aching cunt as his mouth started to work on your clit.
“God—” you moaned feverishly, “god- fuck! Feels so good, Jackson.”
“I know,” he said cockily as he stretched you open by inserting another finger into your cunt. “Keep acting like you’re so dedicated to being in charge. It’s cute, but we both know you lose all common sense the second someone starts paying this pretty pussy any attention.”
“Shut up,” you moaned, still finding your voice in a moment like such. “I have you down on your-– mm, knees eating me out as if I own you.”
He let out a scoff, but it seemed he must’ve partially agreed since he continued to finger your tight cunt as he lapped at your clit. Somewhere in between almost losing your mind from the way he licked your needy cunt and him attempting to sexually degrade you, you’d decided you wanted to return to being on top.
Perhaps it was because after you came on his tongue, you regained some clarity — but regardless, you had him pinned down on your bed just moments later, undressing him like you were a predator that caught its latest meal.
As you stripped him of every article of clothing he had – and took a moment to admire his body – you lined him with your drooling hole. You took a sharp breath in as his thick cockhead stretched you out fully even though he was barely inside of you, and found the courage to sink down on him the rest of the way. You were impossibly full with his fat cock, and you let out a few involuntary moans as he almost split you open on his thickness.
“I know,” he said smugly, “it’s big.”
You scoffed before rolling your eyes as you got adjusted. “You’re insufferable,” you whined. “Just shut up and let me take my time.”
“I like it when you talk back,” he smirked, letting out a low groan as he felt you start to move up and down slowly. “That’s it, ride me like the fucking whore you are.”
“Stop fucking talking,” you snapped, leaning in as you bounced on his cock to kiss him. You took his bottom lip between your teeth after kissing him, not bothering to be gentle as you continued to clench down on his length. “F–fuck, it’s so deep…”
“Yeah?” He bucked his hips up into you as he suddenly gripped onto your hips, pulling you against him as he fucked you senselessly. You weren’t surprised he took control — it was only a matter of time.
“Fuck!” You managed to squeak out, mind going numb and body going almost limp as he fucked you closer to your second orgasm already. “Jackson,” you whined at the feeling of pleasure and pain of how roughly and deeply he was fucking you.
“That’s what you get for teasing me for months,” he gruffly replied, drilling his cock into your pussy until you could feel him physically pressing up against your cervix with each thrust. “Driving me fucking insane.”
Jackson felt you starting to clench up on his cock, and he knew you were close, but so was he. He made it his newfound mission to get your legs to shake while he fucked his cum into you, and so he continued to plow your pussy until you were screaming incoherent words and sentences.
“Come for me, princess,” he taunted, giving your ass a harsh smack as your cunt spasmed around his length, your body giving out and slumping against him as he let out a low groan. “Gonna fucking fill you, get you nice and full with my fucking cum.”
True to his word, he did exactly that. The room was filled with the smell of pure sex and sweat, but you finally found the energy to lift your head from his shoulder as he gently petted your hair. “Jesus,” you said with a breathless laugh, your eyes lighting up as you watched him smile softly at you.
“I think I might have to stop by your office again on Monday,” he said teasingly, gripping your face gently to keep your eyes fixated on him. “So make sure to cancel all your meetings. That way, I can bend you over your desk and fuck you all day long.”
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Taglist -> @girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a
@xanaxiii @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @kpopgirlbtssvt
@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe
@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer
@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii
@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn
@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat
@hfidnnf @strangeions @randomcreator-09
#cillian murphy#cillian x reader#cillian fic#cillian murphy imagine#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x you#red eye#jackson rippner x reader#jackson rippner smut#jackson rippner x y/n#jackson rippner x you#jackson rippner x f!reader#jackson rippner#jackson rippner x female reader#cillian murphy x fem!reader#cillian murphy x oc#jackson rippner imagine
189 notes
·
View notes