#in which ellie turns fourteen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlelou22 · 2 years ago

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you’re my sunshine | joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel are polar opposites. you are sunshine while he is cloudy. but you’re his sunshine and he doesn’t quite know how to handle that.

warnings: insecure!joel, undefined age gap (reader is in 20s, joel is canon age), judgy ass jackson people

word count: 2.5k

divider credit: @saradika

requested: yes by the lovely and inspiring @pedgeitopascal 🫶🏻 find it here

a/n: second fic, lets gooooo. requests are open, so drop one if you would like (i'm still new at this so i may not do all of them, just trying to get back into writing first)

The people of Jackson were stumped by the three newcomers.

Well, more specifically, they were stumped by you.

They didn’t understand how someone like you came along with the man and the girl.

There was Ellie. Even though she is only fourteen, the girl was wise beyond her years. A young girl that possessed the vocabulary of a sailor. Rough around the edges. Strong willed, incredibly witty, and as sarcastic as one could possibly be.

There was Joel. A man hardened by the cards that life seemed to have dealt him, emotionally stunted, and just plain grumpy. Borderline rude to the members of the community, apart from his brother and sister in law. Over cautious of each and every person in the community.

And then there was you.

A woman who embodies the word sunshine. An optimist. The type to always lend a hand whenever needed. Smiles constantly adoring your face. You can find good in any situation, even during the apocalypse.

So it came as a surprise when the community found out that you were dating the grumpy old man.

If someone had asked when you and Joel had gotten together, you wouldn’t know what to tell them. You don’t know how or when it happened, it just was. It had always been.

The two of you met a few years prior. Tess insisted that they needed another partner, a younger woman to attract a different type of customer. At first, Joel didn’t care. If that’s what the girl would do, then that was that. But when Tess brought you home, it shifted for him. He couldn’t stand the thought of the men in the QZ doing business with someone as sweet as you. As pure as you.

So he looked out for you and in turn, you did the same. Quick hellos turned into small talk which turned into conversations. A pickup turned into a hangout which turned into you going to sleep in his bed every night. It just happened.

You were Joel’s and he was yours. It was simple.

Simple to you, at least. You loved him, it was obvious to anyone around you. You looked at him as if he was the center of the universe. You told him as much, as frequently as he would allow you to. It didn’t bother you too much that he never said it back. Regardless of the small and doubting voices in your head, you knew he felt the same.

Joel, even after years with you by your side, still didn’t quite understand how someone like you could be with someone like him. How someone like him could deserve to be with someone like you. After everything he had done before you, everything he had done to protect you.

But you were. And it isn’t that Joel is complaining, because he is not, he just doesn’t know what to do about it. How to act around you in public with the prying (and equally as confused as him) eyes.

Everywhere the two of you went, the eyes followed. The thoughts of the community consumed Joel’s mind. He knew what they thought of him, hell, what they thought about Ellie. And while he couldn’t stand how they viewed his surrogate daughter, he understood why they viewed him.

He wasn’t kind like you. He didn’t acclimate like how you did. He didn’t offer his skills to better the community. He avoided going to the movie nights unlike you, who embraced the chance to mingle with the community.

Joel didn’t miss the way the people would shy away from you whenever he would approach. How their conversation would abruptly end with a forced goodbye, as if Joel was an intruder to his own relationship.

As the time went by, Joel began to doubt himself. How could someone like you want to be with him? With a past like his? He wasn’t worthy of your attention. Of your time. Of your love.

Hell, Joel couldn’t even bring himself to tell you that he loved you. Even after all the years you’ve spent together. He did, he loved you more than he ever thought was possible after Sarah died. He just didn’t know how to tell you.

Joel wasn’t a man of words, he was a man of action. He showed you that he loved you. Whether it was fixing you your favorite tea in the morning or building bookshelves for the many books you’ve found on patrol, he showed his love through acts of service.

But he was beginning to doubt that it was enough for you.

It started at the Tipsy Bison. Joel had promised to help Tommy repair one of the decks to a house. You weren’t much help with a task like this, to your dismay, so you had wandered off to town with the promise of meeting the brothers when they had finished for the night.

Ellie opted to stay back at the house, feigning sickness. You could see right through her act but knew how the girl had been struggling since arriving in Jackson. How she had been struggling before the three of you even got here. So, in spite of Joel’s obvious displeasure, you granted her the solace that she was silently requesting.

You were sitting at the bar with a group of women, discussing the upcoming holiday and how the town would celebrate it, when the Miller brothers made their appearance in the establishment.

And while your smile grew at the sight of your man, the women around you seemed to tense. As Joel approached you, the conversation faded into quiet murmurs.

“Hi babe,” you greeted as he stopped in front of your stool. You watched as his cheeks flushed at the pet name, the smile you wore only growing. “You and Tommy finish the deck?”

“Not yet,” Joel responded, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He nodded to the women surrounding you, only receiving a tight lipped smile back in response. “Got too dark and Maria needed him home.”

“The girls and I were just talking about how we could convince Tommy to dress up as Santa for the kids this year. Wouldn’t that be sweet?” You were excited about the idea, evident by the happiness lighting up your face.

“The sweetest,” Joel replied, shifting foot to foot under the watchful eyes of the women around you.

As you filled Joel in on the other plans for the upcoming celebration, the three other women that you had been planning with watched the interaction. It was almost comical to Joel – he was labeled as the rude one, yet these women were looking back and forth between the two of you with obvious confusion. Suspicion towards Joel. And, if Joel was reading it right, one of them was wearing a shade of disgust.

Joel knew he wasn’t the best type of person in the world but to be looked at with disgust seemed a bit too far for him.

“Joel?” Your voice startled him from his thoughts. You had slipped your coat on before beginning to rise from the barstool you had been perched upon. “You ready to get back home? I want to make sure Ellie is okay.”

With a smile and a wave, you bid the ladies a goodbye before turning to your boyfriend. You watched as he forced a nod at them before he began to make his way towards the exit. Falling into step with him, you slip your hand into his coat pocket, lacing your fingers along his with a squeeze. Eyes on his face as you watch him let out a shuddering breath, shoulders tensing even more than they usually were.

You may be an optimist that sees the best in not only every person that you encounter but in the world as well, even if it is a fucked up mess thanks to the cordyceps. You may be a cheerful person with a smile on your face more often than not, even in the face of danger. But you weren’t stupid.

And you certainly weren’t blind.

You saw how the people in Jackson treated Joel. How they looked down upon him. He may not be totally involved in the community, but he helped where he could and when he could. The people of this town operated on favors, but it was hard to fulfill one for someone when you were on patrol as much as Joel was.

Everyone took rotations, yourself included. But Joel took it a step further. Maybe it was his incessant need to protect Ellie and yourself, maybe it was his nature. Or maybe it was just what he thought he could best provide to the community for. Joel was outside the wall more than he was inside of it, patrolling new and old areas alike to ensure the community’s safety. Going on what seemed like endless supply runs to restock any medication, materials, and other things that anyone could potentially even need.

Not only did you see everything Joel did for the community, even if they couldn’t share that view, but you saw how Joel treated Ellie. How he treated you.

How he wasn’t good with words or how he didn’t know how to show affection. But you knew, regardless of if he put it into words, how much he loved his two girls.

You knew he loved the two of you through the surprises he would bring back from patrol for the two of you. Whether it was a book you had mentioned liking in your childhood or hunting down every last remaining can of Chef Boyardee for Ellie, he showed you. Whether it was the old guitar he had traded to get for Ellie on her birthday or the singular flower he would pick for you ‘just because’, he showed you.

But regardless of the bountiful thanks you both had given him, you can see the doubt pooling in his eyes. The disappointment eating away at him at the thought of not being able to give the two of you more. The constant guilt of his past actions. You knew what he thought of himself and you knew that he didn’t think he could ever deserve you.

You just didn’t share that opinion.

So when you hear the women you were previously conversing with snickering about your boyfriend as you walk towards the exit, something snapped within you.

Slipping your hand from his, you practically march your way back to the women, leaving a perplexed Joel behind, watching from the door of the restaurant. Watching as your hand smacks onto the bar top in front of them, leaning over to sneer at each of them. You didn’t get like this often, preferring kindness, but when you did, Joel couldn’t help but gawk at you.

“You may think you know him,” your voice is as cold as your glare. “But you couldn’t even begin to understand the type of person that Joel is. Might I remind you that none of you have been on the other side of that wall, so you truly have no idea what he does every damn day to make sure that you can sit here on your asses and gossip like small town bitches.”

The women before you go silent, jaws dropping at your words. They hadn’t expected someone like you to snap. But the people of Jackson, especially those that were not on patrol rotation, had no idea what it was like on the outside. You had to do what you had to do, regardless of your sunny disposition. Just because you were usually radiating positivity didn’t mean you wouldn’t bite back when necessary.

You take their lack of a response as an answer. “Next time you want to judge someone based on their first impression, maybe try to understand what they’ve been through to get to this point first. If you went through even a fraction of the shit that the three of us went through to get here, you’d actually think before you spoke.”

“That’s not what we meant–”

“Then what did you mean by the constant glares? The whispering when you think no one can hear you? Running away the second you see him?” You raise your eyebrows at them, challenging them to respond. “Please tell me what you meant, I’m sure you had a great reason.”

Their mouths opened and closed, searching for the words but found none. Still in shock over your outburst.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s keep this from happening again, yeah?” With that, you turn and head towards the door. As you pass Joel, you grab his hand and tug him outside. Once outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air, halting in your steps in effort to calm down your racing thoughts.

“W-What was that?” He asks, equally as stunned as the women that got told off by you.

You shrug. “I don’t like the way they talk about you. Or about Ellie.”

Joel shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands in front of you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you answer simply. “I know how it affects you. How you think about yourself as is. They only make it worse and that’s not okay with me.”

“You can’t blame them,” Joel sighs, rubbing his gloved hand down his face. “They aren’t wrong.”

“They are wrong, baby,” you tug his hands from his face, replacing them with your own by cupping his cheeks. “You have no idea how far from the truth they are, how far you are.”

You thumb his cheeks, a small smile playing on your lips as you think about him. “I know you don’t view yourself in the brightest light, Joel, but you are everything to me. You and Ellie are the best things in my life, I wouldn’t trade the two of you for anything in the world. I would do anything, say anything to make sure that you know how much you mean to me.”

His eyes are glassy as his hands slowly make their way to your wrists, swallowing hard at your words. You know he struggles to hear it, to hear any sort of praise that would go against his thoughts.

“You’re a man of action, not a man of words,” you whisper. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you press your lips to his. Joel stiffens, not used to the public display of attention. You hold firm, sliding your hands off his cheeks to wrap around his neck in an effort to pull him closer to you. After a moment, you feel him relax, hands shifting to your hips as he molds his lips against yours.

The two of you stay entangled in each other for a few more moments, lips dancing with one other. With one last peck, Joel pulls back, eyes shining as he takes your swollen lips and flushed skin. He looks at you in wonder, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“I love you too,” Joel whispers. “My sunshine.”

And for the first time in a long time, the smile on your face is mirrored on his.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #insecure joel #still getting used to it #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #m writes

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elliesbelle · 1 year ago

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nobody compares to you

chapter 12

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of alcohol, descriptions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, allusions to toxic parents, description of murder (in a joking fashion), flashback scene, some descriptions from ellie's POV, descriptions of marijuana and marijuana usage, allusions to toxic ex-friends, slightly sexual behaviour, minors do not interact

word count: 9.2k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

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i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

“Oh, I don’t know, Abs…”

“Hey, like I said, no pressure at all.”

You’re sprawled out on your bed with your homework spread out on your sheets which you’ve completely abandoned as you’d spent the last half hour chatting on the phone with Abby.

It’s been exactly four days since your night out with her and her friends at the lesbian bar, Bow and Arrow. Exactly four days since unexpectedly you ran into your ex-fling from freshman year, Adriana. Exactly four days since you drunkenly rejected Abby’s sudden and attempted kiss. Exactly four days since you visited the same alleyway where you had your first kiss with Ellie Williams.

Being the perfect gentlemanwoman that she always was, Abby had insisted on taking you home herself that night. You’d reassured her that you could easily order a rideshare service to take you home if needed, but she argued that it was her fault that you had tequila in your system in the first place and that she’d feel much more at ease if she definitively saw you enter the front door of your apartment with her own two eyes. Her thoughtfulness and persistence won out in the end, and at around 2 A.M., she respectfully greeted you good night as you tipsily crossed the threshold of your apartment.

As you waved her goodbye, a sinking sense of shame settled at the seat of your stomach. Despite your brush-off to her advances, Abby remained completely sweet and amicable for the rest of the night. Her demeanour didn’t seem to change, though there were no more attempts to steal another kiss from you again. The feeling of remorse soberly persisted into the following day, and you’d remorsefully texted Abby the morning after to offer lengthy sorries for your rejection. Ever a well-mannered woman of honour, she easily accepted your many apologies and, in turn, apologized for attempting to kiss you while neither of you was completely sober. Your “friendship” with Abby remained untainted, much to your relief.

But now, exactly four days later, you’ve been once again placed in yet another uncomfortable predicament. Abby had just invited you out to dinner with her that following Friday night at a restaurant called Orchards. Though never having actually set foot in the place, you’d seen just in passing how extravagant and fancy the establishment was. It was never a restaurant you considered ever patronizing, and as Abby attempts to persuade you to accompany her for dinner, you feel your entire body begin to react in complete hysteria. You try to convince yourself that your rapidly beating heart and extreme nausea were merely nervous reactions to being suddenly asked out on an obvious date, not at all from the fact that Orchards is a mere block and corner away from the apartment that Jesse and Ellie shared.

“It’s not that I don’t want to!” You insist. “It’s just that… I mean, are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“I don’t know… that you wanna be asking me out on a date.”

“Doesn’t have to be an official date if you don’t want it to be,” She says. “It can just be two friends going out on a Friday night for a nice dinner together and having a fun time.”

“At a super fancy restaurant?”

“Hey, I’m a really good friend.”

You can’t help but giggle at Abby’s cheekiness.

From experience alone, you have a gut feeling somehow that if you were to decline Abby’s invitation, she wouldn’t hold it against you. You could choose to once again remain within the sanctuary of your platonic comfort zone, a sanctuary that you’d grown far too comfortable in for the past couple of years. But Abby was genuinely sweet and so thoughtful and incredibly handsome, and she’d been so very good to you so far. Suddenly, wise words from both Dina and Jesse come back to you and echo within your mind.

“Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.”

“I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.”

Trying to hold back from letting out an audible sigh, you finally give Abby a reply.

“Alright.”

“Oh?”

“Alright.” You repeat, smiling slightly.

“Is that a yes?” Abby asks.

“It’s a yes,” You giggle. “Now whether it’s a friend date or a real date…”

“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” Abby laughs. “You don’t have to decide now. Hell, you can even decide during dessert while we’re actually at the restaurant.”

“You’re cute.” You chuckle.

“Oh, I know.” You swear you can hear Abby’s cocky smirk through the phone.

“So, Friday at 7?” You confirm.

“If that works for you. Do you want me to come pick you up from your place?”

You seriously consider her generous offer. A small part of you knows that there is every chance that you would end up bailing in total anxiety if you weren’t essentially escorted to the date. Part of you also begins to worry that you’d immediately look out of place if you walked in alone without Abby and her usual charm & swagger by your side. But you then remember that Abby’s apartment is only five minutes away from the restaurant and yours was fifteen and in the complete opposite direction; your unrelenting unwillingness to inconvenience her ultimately makes the decision for you.

“Oh, it’s okay! I can just meet you there.” You exclaim.

“You sure? I totally don’t mind coming to get you.”

“Abby.” You say in a playfully stern manner.

“I know, I know,” Abby chuckles. “You’re a big girl.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

Suppressing from loudly exhaling in both relief and tension, you finally remember and notice all of the unfinished homework still laid out right in front of you.

“Anyway, just text me all the details later. I’ve got a shit ton of homework that I’ve been procrastinating on, and you’ve kind of been sidetracking me from completing any of it.”

“My apologies, it was not my intention to be so distracting.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Okay, maybe a little.”

You both laugh.

“Alright, alright,” Abby complies. “I’ll let you get to it. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Don’t you have class at like, 8?”

“I can skip it so I can walk you to your 9 A.M.”

“Abigail, go to your classes.”

“Fine,” She chuckles. “I’ll be a good student, I guess. Always so eager to be rid of me.”

“Abby Anderson, I swear to god—“

“Kidding, kidding!”

“I’ll text you later, then.” You say.

“Sounds good. Good luck with your homework.”

“Thanks. Good night, Abs.”

“Good night, pretty girl.”

You tap the red button at the bottom of your screen, subsequently ending the call.

Sighing, you flop onto your back and stare at your prickly white ceiling. Your eyes zoom in and out of focus as your mind recaps the conversation you just had with the blonde, blue-eyed woman.

Did I just agree to go out with Abby?

Do I really want to do this?

This is gonna be so, so different from the other night. We were with her friends. She’s inviting me out to be with her and only her.

It’s going to be a date, no matter what she says.

I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing anymore.

Am I doing this because I want to do it? Or is it because I feel like I should?

She doesn’t even know what she’s taking on, trying to date me. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into. She’s way too nice, too sweet for me.

Can I really do this?

As your internal monologue quickly fatigues both your mind and your emotions, you nearly pass out before the panic of not finishing your schoolwork jolts you awake once again.

“What about this one?”

“No, it hugs my thighs really weird…”

“First of all, it does not. Second, why do you even have it in the first place, then?!”

“Sentimental value, D!”

You had invited Dina over that Wednesday evening to help you settle on an outfit to wear for your date-not-a-date in two days. You’d finally relented to telling Dina about your situation with Abby and how on the fence you’ve been in regards to starting anything romantic and real with her. To your surprise, Dina was a lot less judgier than you had been anticipating and much more understanding. She was just as supportive as she was the day she came over with the cup of coffee and advice regarding your messy situation with Ellie. She even enthusiastically invited herself over, accurately predicting that you were already far too hesitant and anxious to properly plan for Friday night.

You snatch the white dress Dina had been holding out for you from her hands and throw it onto your bed.

“If we can’t find actually anything suitable for me to wear, maybe it’s a sign from the universe that I should cancel on Abby.”

“The hell it is!” Dina scolds. “You are going on this date, even if I have to go out right now and buy you a whole new outfit myself!”

“I just don’t think I actually have anything good enough for Orchards! I’m gonna go there and look like a freaking shabby peasant, and Abby will take one look at me and immediately collapse on the spot over how disgustingly and horrifically ugly I look.” You flop onto your bed next to the pile of rejects you’d adamantly denied earlier in the evening.

“Did you really just say ‘peasant’? What are you, eighty?” Dina rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “And if Abby Anderson passes out on the spot for any reason, it’ll only be because you will be so stunning and gorgeous and ravishing and elegant that she just couldn’t consciously handle your natural beauty.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, D!” You laugh, picking up the white dress Dina was holding previously and lobbing it at her face.

Dina laughs as she effortlessly catches it before placing it back on top of the reject pile. She then saunters back into your walk-in closet to continue examining its contents.

“Maybe if we build your date outfit from—”

“Not a date.”

“—your date outfit from an accessory or a pair of shoes or something. Do you have a pair of heels that you were thinking of wearing?”

You give her an apprehensive look.

“What do you think, D?”

“Of course. Be helpful for two seconds, babe.”

“Ugh!”

You lift your head slightly to watch her venture further into your closet from the comfort of your bed.

“I have a whole bunch of other shoes on the top shelf over there,” You say, pointing in the direction of a wall-mounted shelf above your clothes arranged on hangers. “Some of them are still in their shoe boxes, though, so you better put them back properly after and line them up exactly the way I had them.”

“Anal.” Dina scoffs, smiling. “Why are they still in their boxes?”

“Some of them were stupid, impulse purchases that I immediately regretted but was too lazy to return,” You explain, dropping your head back onto your bed. “Others are a bunch of ugly and uncomfortable shoes that my mother bought me and that I have to lie about wearing regularly and that I’m definitely not allowed to get rid of, lest she murders me in cold blood with her own two hands.”

“So when are we going to finally end the miserable existence of that horrible woman again, exactly?”

“When I figure out exactly how to get away with murder.”

Dina smirks as she grabs a small step stool hidden in a corner of your closet.

“Hey, if Barbie Bear had actually come to life when I asked her to all those years ago, you would have been free from that witch’s clutches by now.” Dina huffs as she begins to peek into the shoe boxes neatly arranged on the top shelf of your closet.

“Speaking of Barbie Bear,” You suddenly segue, still staring up at the ceiling of your apartment. “I still want her back, by the way.”

“I told you fifty million times already that I don’t have her!”

“Bullshit,” You counter. “I know I left her at your house summer after freshman year I came home with you guys.”

“Babe, it’s been like, well over a year now. I promise that I don’t have her, and I seriously haven’t seen her anywhere in my house back home.”

“I’m planning on pressing charges against you for kidnapping my child and for causing such catastrophic emotional distress as a result of the trauma of many years of motherly separation from my daughter.”

“Such a fucking drama queen.” Dina chuckles as she continues her footwear search.

“Dinaaaa,” You whine. “You know that Raf gave her to me—”

“Uhhh…” Dina abruptly interrupts. “What the hell is this?”

“What?”

“What is this box?” Dina asks, climbing down the step stool with something in one hand.

“Hmm?” You finally rise from your position and prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at what she was referring to.

Dina slowly emerges from your closet holding something heavy in her hands. It looks like a shoe box at first glance; but upon further inspection, it looks quite different from the other containers that it was previously organized with. Dina reveals a dark blue memory box adorned with intricately drawn vines and flowers. On one side was a tiny strip of paper with the word “El” written in small golden ink.

Your fingers go cold, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes widen. The absolute panicked expression on your face complements Dina’s expression of complete astonishment.

“Oh, shit.” You mutter involuntarily.

“Sooo…” Dina begins. “You’ve got… an Ellie box.”

Knowing Dina very well, you figure that, at the very least, she already snuck a quick peek at its contents. You sigh, aware that lying to her face would be pointless.

“Y-yeah. I’ve got an Ellie box.”

Dina’s mouth drops open even further, and you groan in total embarrassment at her elated squeals of your name laced with amusement and intrigue.

“An Ellie box!!! Oh my god! Scandalous! Outrageous! Somebody call the Vatican!” Dina exclaims happily, a shit-eating grin wide all over her face.

“Dinaaaa…” You gripe. “Put it back right now!”

“Absolutely not, you slut!” She excitedly cries as she plops herself down next to you on the bed, carelessly pushing your pile of discarded clothes further to the side. “This is the best day of my whole life.”

“Dina!” You smack her arm but make no real attempts to pull the box away from her, knowing you wouldn’t win that very brief fight.

“You’re the one who still has it!” She points out smugly. “And after you swore to me the other week that you are definitely not in love with Ellie anymore.”

“I’m not!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” She simply waves you off as she removes the lid. “Keep telling yourself that, babe.”

You fall back onto your sheets, shrouding your face behind your hands in shame as Dina giggles giddily to herself.

You try in vain to convince yourself that you’d completely forgotten you even had the memory box in the first place, that it was something you’d meant to get rid of ages ago but merely never gotten around to. It was shoved, after all, in between all the pairs of shoes you never touch, always closed and completely neglected. But the brutally honest part of your conscience knows that its continued existence in your closet is a representation of something you desperately try to keep buried deep within the corners of your mind.

Unable to help yourself, you cautiously peek behind your hands to observe Dina’s extensive inspection of your secret Ellie box. You watch as she picks up several pieces of paper: a faded ticket stub from a show Ellie once took you to of a local band whose music she wanted to introduce you to, a receipt from the time that you and Ellie attended a limited portrait exhibition at a nearby art museum, an unfinished charcoal picture Ellie had drawn of a small field of blooming daisies you’d spotted when you’d gone with her to the woods to freely smoke in secret.

You try to block out the images the box’s contents were involuntarily eliciting from memories you’d hidden long ago as Dina places the papers back in lieu of a stack of envelopes wrapped together with a thin piece of twine. A gentle smile appears on Dina’s face as she tenderly turns the handwritten letters back and forth between her hands.

“You know,” She says quietly. “Ellie used to really love whenever you wrote her these letters to her. Jesse and I used to catch her rereading them all the time, even super old ones you’d written her months before.”

You quickly feel your entire body burn hot with a sweltering sensation that you hadn’t let yourself fully feel in years.

Fall of Freshman Year

The university that you’d chosen to reside in for the next four years was chosen partially for its distance away from your hometown, from your parents in particular. Longing to be liberated from their tyrannical control, you applied exclusively to schools that were no less than a hundred miles away. Not a week into your freshman year, however, the guilt of choosing to be so far away from your favourite cousin ate at you every second you were apart. To give Rafael something tangible to consistently remind him of you, you’d send handwritten letters to him through the mail at least twice a month while you attended college. Though you’d chat with him regardless through texts and video on a regular basis, you enjoyed showering him with sisterly love in your own sweet and corny way.

Ellie was sprawled out on your bed one night while you sat at your rickety, battered student desk. She was busying herself by rolling a few joints, all packed with lavender buds you’d previously provided, and placing them in her metal tin. As she placed the last one next to the others and put another in between her lips, she hopped off your bed and came to hover nosily behind you.

“Are you really doing homework this late?”

“Shut up and go finish rolling so we can smoke already.”

“What are you doing?”

“Not my homework.”

“Then what?”

Ellie curiously leaned over your shoulder and watched the way your hand smoothly and speedily glided over your favourite piece of floral stationary, writing legibly your own blend of print and cursive. To the right of your paper was a small white envelope with both your name and Rafael’s written on the front accompanied by your respective addresses. To the left was a golden stamp seal of a sunflower and a tiny mason jar full of multicoloured wax beads.

“Are you writing a letter? With your hands?”

“I mean, how else are you supposed to write a letter, El?”

“What kind of nerdy ass nonsense—”

“Go roll our shit, Ellie Williams!” You interrupted, taking a pencil within your reach and flicking it at her.

She chuckled, blocking it in time before it hit her directly in the face. She placed it back on your desk before picking up the sunflower seal and examining it closely.

“You’re writing an actual letter, for real?” She asked, her lips still tight with the joint in between her lips.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

“To your cousin?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel like it.”

“That’s some shit that only senile, lonely grandmas do on their grandkid’s birthday when they’re sending them fifty bucks in cash.” Ellie teased as she placed the sunflower stamp back on your desk.

“So, what?”

“So, you’re even more of a nerd than I thought.”

“Shut up!”

“Hey, not my fault that you’re an old lady.”

“Can you go finish rolling our joints so we can smoke already?”

“I’m already done, grandma!”

“Then go away and hush!”

Ellie chuckled as she leaned against your desk and took out a lighter from a front pocket of her jeans. She moved to ignite the tip of the joint, but you smacked her arm and pointed towards your bed.

“Sploof, sploof, sploof!!!” You demanded.

“What? Tara won’t care about the smell. She smells like weed half the time herself.”

“My RA will notice, though! I don’t wanna get kicked out in my first year of college just ‘cause you’re lazy!”

“Thought that the whole point of your lavender shit was to mask the weed smell.”

You didn’t reply and settled for looking at her with a stern glare. She laughed and mockingly held up both her hands in defeat.

“Alright, alright! Stick-in-the-mud.”

She walked over to your bed, plopping back down and reaching for the paper towel roll that she’d wrapped securely with duct tape and stuffed with several dryer sheets. After lighting the joint and taking a deep hit, she exhaled deeply into the cylindrical piece of cardboard. Her ocean green eyes remained fixated on you, fixated on concluding your letter.

“So why are you sending Rafael snail mail? Don’t you guys talk like, almost every day?”

“We do. But it’s just something I really love doing. Makes me feel connected with him in more than one way, you know?”

Ellie merely hummed in acknowledgement as you continued your explanation.

“I used to do it a lot back in high school for the friends I had at the time. Or at least I did until my parents made me stop when they complained about me using up all their stamps.”

“Dicks.” Ellie chuckled. “Did any of your friends ever write you back?”

“No,” You said simply. “I totally get it though. We saw each other every single day at school. It makes sense for them not to send some handwritten reply through the mail.”

Your expression looked completely and genuinely unbothered, but Ellie frowned.

“That was pretty rude of them.” She pointed out.

“Oh, it’s okay. I never thought it was. I didn’t do it to get anything back from them or anything. Just did it ‘cause I really cared about my friends and wanted to show that in my way. It was sort of like my own kind of love language.”

Ellie continued to watch you in total awe as you folded up the stationary and stuffed it into the envelope. You thoughtfully picked out a couple of wax beads from the mason jar, two violet and one silver, and placed them on a tiny spoon that you placed on top of a mahogany wax warmer. You turned around to face her, one hand held out in her direction.

“Can I borrow your lighter, El?” You asked.

Ellie, still mesmerized by your routine, blinked in disorientation.

“Wh-what?”

“Your lighter, dummy. Can I use it for a sec?”

“O-oh, y-yeah.”

She’d completely forgotten about the lit joint still placed between her lips. After quickly inhaling from the cigarette and exhaling into the sploof, she shoved a hand into her jean pocket once again and handed you her lighter. She ignored the subtle electricity that sparked between you when her fingertips brushed against yours.

She observed the way you carefully lit the white tealight candle inside the wax warmer and stared at the way the beads slowly melted inside the small spoon. Clearing her throat and finally handing you the joint, she leaned back onto your pillows and tried to lighten the mood.

“So, you’re allowed to a candle in your dorm room, but I can’t even smoke?”

“Asshole, I’m literally smoking with you right now.” You pointed out before bringing the joint to your lips and relighting the tip.

“I’m just saying, double standard.” Ellie shrugged.

“Wh—double standard? Does anything you say ever make any sense?” You asked with tight lips, hysterically flapping a hand in the direction of the sploof next to her on the bed.

She laughed and quickly handed it to you, once again ignoring that flicker of electricity at your touch.

“I love being an enigma to all human beings.”

“Fucking weirdo.” You replied after exhaling into the wrapped paper towel roll.

Ellie gave you a cocky wink, and you ignored the feverish burning of your cheeks.

“So,” She began as you suck from the joint once more. “Am I ever going to receive one of these fancy ass letters of yours?”

“What? What for?”

“I don’t know; just wanna see all the fuss is about.”

“I see you every day, El. We literally live on the same campus.”

“So, what? I still want one.”

“You just said it was an old lady activity.”

“It is.”

“You’re not helping your case by being mean to me, you know.”

You handed the joint and sploof back to Ellie and turned your uncomfortable desk chair around to lean back into it and face her directly.

“You wouldn’t want one, anyway. It’s almost always all corny and sentimental.”

“I mean, I expected as much. Have you met you?” Ellie gestured to you with the joint between her fingers.

You playfully stick your tongue at her.

“You are a rude and blunt asshole, El. Corny and sentimental aren’t really your thing.”

“Fine!” Ellie jokingly conceded after taking a huge hit of the joint. “I didn’t really want one, anyway!”

You rolled your eyes at her petulant and whiny expression. Ellie finished off the rest of the joint as you delicately poured the melted wax onto the envelope and sealed it with the sunflower stamp.

Despite having just made lighthearted fun of you for it, the small smile on Ellie’s lips contradicted her prior teasing. She adored watching you perform such a personal ritual, and she felt special to be given your natural, instinctive trust by comfortably allowing her to witness such an intimate act.

Out of sheer stubbornness and defiance on your part, you gave Ellie her very own handwritten letter the following day. You found some time during your day to slip it underneath her door in between your classes, and you quickly scampered off before either she or Jesse came home. You were still a bit huffy over her playful teasing the previous night, and you wanted to tease her back in your own way.

To your slight surprise, Ellie was completely amused and ecstatic by your act of indignation. She eagerly opened the small, white envelope with her name written in golden cursive on the front, carefully avoiding ripping the fancy seal you’d closed the letter with: a forest green wax seal with hints of gold, embellished with a pair of ferns that notably matched that of her forearm tattoo.

Inside the envelope was a simple, small piece of paper with only seven words written on it: “you are so, so mean to me,” followed by a tiny sad face.

You would have never guessed that her silly jabs at your sentimentality would establish a special ritual between you and Ellie. You were entertained by how truly thrilled Ellie had found her first letter that, on a frequent basis, you would sneakily slip formally sealed envelopes under her door or drop them inside her designated mail slot or hide them underneath her pillow with a short handwritten letter inside written in jest. But somewhere along the way, the little inside jokes eventually turned into genuine letters of you enthusiastically talking about innermost thoughts you’d be having at the time or words of loving encouragement when you knew she was having a particularly bad day. Your little confidences only for her eyes that were hidden by different wax seals, whether it be a bumblebee or a daisy or her token ferns, brought her a sense of comfort she could never quite comprehend.

During that summer after your freshman year, you’d continued to regularly write her letters. But as she began to pull away from you, they never reached her as you became reluctant to actually present them. She sequentially stayed ignorant of their existence after you’d broken it all off with her.

But despite how horribly heart-wrenching the end of the whole affair was, you kept the letters anyway. You’d even composed several letters in the months following as a sorry means to ease your grief, confessing all the sentiments and feelings you wished you could have fully expressed to her but never got the chance to.

Some were furious and indignant over how she had been treating you that summer; others were wistful and nostalgic over the connection you’d believed you had with her but lost completely; each just as miserable as the next. Just as you were so unhealthily attached to the letters previously written to her, you couldn’t bear to throw out these melancholy ones. You settled instead on hiding them away, never meant to be seen by anyone else.

You watch as Dina delicately runs her fingers over the different wax seals you’d used to close the envelopes, a kind but thoughtful look on her face. She sighs before speaking.

“I really wished things worked out between the two of you, you know. Still do.”

“I know, D.”

She turns back to look at you, a sad smile still etched on her lips.

“Still won’t tell me anything about what happened at the end of that summer? You still never told me and Jess. Hasn’t enough time passed?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, babe.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“I guess not,” Dina says, turning back around to place the letters in the box. “Just wish you’d talk to me about it, even just a little bit.”

Even now, you feel immense guilt over your unrelenting reluctance to reveal to Dina and Jesse what really transpired when Ellie dropped you off at home after your summer in Jackson. It had been consistently painful over the years not to confide in your closest friends, especially when you know just how badly they’ve always wanted to give you the comfort you so desired. But tarnishing the couple’s view of their childhood best friend after all this time feels pointless and immature, and you know you would never be able to forgive yourself if this subsequently caused a rift between the trio.

“I don’t want to have to bring it up again…” Dina asks quietly. “But I just feel like I need to ask you this once more.”

“What is it, babe?” You reply, already aware of the question that looms obviously and ominously.

“Do you really believe that you’re not still in love with Ellie?” She inquires.

“I only have that box in my closet because I didn’t want to keep it at home for my parents to find and make a big fuss over. They barely know of Ellie’s existence in my life.” You respond quickly, making a deliberate attempt to avoid giving her an actual answer.

“But why do you still even have it in the first place?”

“Just forgot I even had it in there, you know.” You shrug, getting up from the bed to approach your walk-in closet. “Like I said, it’s stuffed in with all this other shit I never touch anyway. Literally forgot it still even existed until you brought it out just now.”

Dina watches as you evade her probing gaze by getting up from your position on the bed to rifle through your hung clothes in the closet. She always had an uncanny way of reading people’s emotions, no matter how deeply others attempted to conceal them. Unwilling to let her delve deeper into whatever feelings you had in regards to Ellie, especially right before a date-not-a-date with Abby, you select several random articles of clothing from your closet and hold them up in front of Dina’s face to view.

“Okay, I feel like these are good contenders for tonight. Which one do you think is classy and fancy enough for Orchards?”

You take a nervous step through the cherry wood entrance that leads into Orchards, wearing a light purple dress with strappy, silver heels to match. You cling tightly to the tiny handbag between your hands like your life depends on it. Exhaling deeply with your old therapy breathing techniques, you approach the wooden podium stationed several feet from the doorway.

“Hi, umm,” You utter nervously. “I-I’m still waiting for the rest of my party, but the reservation should be under ‘Anderson’ for 7 o’clock?”

The host scans the booklet before finding Abby’s name on the list.

“I-I can definitely wait until she gets here, though! I can hang out in the vestibule. I totally don’t mind at all—” You stammer before the host interrupts.

“Oh, reservation for Miss Abigail Anderson? I see it right here. Your companion has actually already arrived just a few minutes ago..”

“O-oh, okay!” You say surprised. “I-I had no idea.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. She came not too long ago. I can show you to your table if you would like to follow me.” The host replies graciously, grabbing a menu from underneath the podium before escorting you further into the restaurant.

You tail after him, trying desperately to keep the sound of your heels clicking to a minimum but nearly tripping in the process.

The interior of the restaurant surpasses the quick glances you’d stolen in passing from the adjoining street. If you had been born and raised to be an upper-class socialite who frequented such fine dining establishments, you’re sure you’d have felt quite at home upon stepping into the place. The tables are all neatly set with white tablecloths and golden napkins folded precisely and neatly at the top of the plates. The maroon Fleur-de-Lis seating is all dimly lit by the modern beaded chandeliers hanging over the patrons. Servers skillfully weave throughout the place, all coordinated in their white button-down shirts and black slacks. Your tiny handbag nearly slips out of your icy grip from how slippery your fingers had gotten with sweat.

The restless intimidation that the establishment so easily oozed is slightly soothed when you catch sight of a familiar smiling blonde woman standing next to a table by the windows. The anxiety you have been feeling since entering Orchards is then replaced with a different type of tension as your eyes meet Abby’s piercing sky blue ones.

She’s wearing a muted green shirt with a pair of grey slacks. Her dirty blonde hair is in its usual braid, but it appears looser than it usually is. You try not to stare at the way her muscular arms bulge from her shirt, trying to avert your eyes elsewhere.

When you reach the table and whisper a “thank you” to the host as he places your menu next to your plate before he walks away, you return Abby’s winning smile with a flustered one of your own. She holds an arm out for you to give her a small, one-armed hug in greeting.

“Hey, Abs,” You say as you briefly embrace her. “Have you been waiting long? I thought you said we were supposed to be meeting at 7.”

“Well, I technically made the reservation for 6:45.” Abby replies, grinning at you unapologetically.

“What the hell, Abby!” You scold, playfully smacking her left bicep before reaching for your seat.

“I just like being prepared and being earlier than other people.” Abby shrugs, holding her hand out to help you into your chair as she pulls it out for you.

“Jesus,” You chuckle as you roll your eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how that’s kind of lunatic behaviour, Abigail?”

Abby merely smirks as she pushes your chair in for you, you murmuring a thanks in response.

“So, what do you think of the place?” Abby asks as she walks around the table to take a seat in her own chair.

“For a date-or-not-a-date, this is very extravagant.” You point out.

“Like I told you before, I’m a really good friend.” Abby shrugs again. “Am I not allowed to treat a friend to a nice, well-deserved dinner?”

“Abby.” You chide. “There’s no way that I’m letting you pay the whole bill by yourself. I know that this is a pretty pricey place.”

“Yeah, and I have the money for it. Get whatever you want, pretty girl. What’s the point of having money if you’re not going to spend it on other people?”

You don’t say anything, settling for merely pursing your lips as you take the neatly folded golden napkin off your plate and place it on top of your lap.

Orchards being a “four dollar sign” type of restaurant is a partial reason why you remained silent. Not coming from money as Abby does, you’d firmly decided prior to the dinner that you were going to order the cheapest appetizer on the menu as an entrée and that you’d drink nothing else but water. But knowing Abby, she’d order every single dish for you until you actually eat a proper meal, especially after her casual yet firm declaration.

But as you open up your menu and nervously bite the inside of your cheek, Abby’s last words begin to ring inside your ears.

“What’s the point of having money if you’re not going to spend it on other people?”

This was a sentence and philosophy that those around Ellie knew her quite well for. Every food delivery, every coffee order, every glass of vodka cranberry was paid for with Ellie’s hefty dealer income. You didn’t bother arguing with her when it came to it, not towards the end, because it was a pointless fight she would win every time. Despite every eye roll you’d throw her way, your heart would flutter every time you’d get a glimpse of the small, secret smile Ellie donned each time she’d spend her money on someone else. As long as those she cared about were happy, Ellie was happy.

To see the same kind of propriety in someone else disoriented you, especially someone who has been making her romantic intentions with you quite clear. It’s a trait you so admire in Abby, but a reminder of the auburn-haired woman on a date-not-a-date with another person still pierces something deep within your guts.

Adamant on keeping your mind off of Ellie for the rest of the night, you busy yourself going through Orchards’ lavish menu.

“Have you been here before?” You ask Abby as you scan the list of soups and salads.

“Once,” She replies as she goes through her own menu. “My aunt and uncle brought me here last year for my birthday, and I haven’t stopped thinking about their truffle parmesan tots since.”

“Yeah? They that good?”

“Oh, most definitely. I was ready to make love to it right there and then on the table.”

“Eww! Abby!!” You giggle, squinting your eyes and scrunching up your nose in simultaneous disgust and laughter.

You and Abby spend the next few minutes on small talk as you finish deciding on your order. Abby is in the middle of telling you about how she nearly elbowed a teammate right in the jaw during her last rugby practice earlier in the week when your phone begins to vibrate from inside your tiny handbag.

You keep your eyes focused mostly on your companion, intent on being present in the conversation, while your fingers silently fish your phone out of your purse. Your gaze briefly diverts to the lit screen, and your eyebrows furrow when you see that it’s Jesse who’s calling you.

Quickly pushing down your power button to reject the call for now while you make a mental note to call him back later, you shove your phone back into your handbag. You lean forward further and place your hands underneath your chin to make a show of being attentive, but only a few seconds pass before your phone starts to pulsate within your purse again.

Suppressing an obvious groan of simultaneous annoyance and concern, you attempt to ignore Jesse’s second call and instead try to listen to the rest of Abby’s story. But when her sky blue eyes distractingly fall onto your purse, you sigh dejectedly and reluctantly pull your phone out once again.

“Sorry, sorry,” You desperately utter as you reject the call again. “It’s Jesse. Not sure why he’s calling me right now.”

“You sure you don’t wanna pick up? Might be something important.” Abby asks, eyes full of honest concern.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just call him back after—” You begin to say as your phone vibrates for a third time, violently begging for immediate recognition in your hand.

“Don’t worry,” Abby chuckles. “Go ahead and answer it. He’s your friend and I know he’s important to you.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Abby,” You say, awkwardly scrambling out of your seat with your phone in your hand. “He never, ever calls me like this, so I swear that I’m just gonna see what’s up, and then I’ll come right—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Abby interrupts, smiling. “I don’t mind at all, I promise. I’ll be right here. Take your time.”

“You really are the best, Abs,” You sigh. “If the server comes around before I get back, could you get me the Caesar salad with Italian dressing?”

Abby gives you another kind smile and nods. You give her a gracious look before dashing towards the direction of the restroom, purposely leaving your purse behind as an unspoken promise of your eventual return.

You let out a heavy sigh after having swiftly glided through the restaurant and shut yourself in a unisex stall. Getting more nervous by the second, you immediately call the raven-haired man back. His delayed response begins to worry you further while you listen to seven agonizingly elongated rings before he eventually picks up.

“Oh, hey, my dude! What’s up?” Jesse greets nonchalantly, slightly out of breath.

“Wh-what—” You stutter, completely befuddled by his casual, unbothered tone. “Is everything all good? Are you okay? Why’d you call me?”

“What? I didn’t call you.”

“Jess, you called me like, fifty times just now.”

“Wait, really? Hang on…” He mutters. “Oh, shit. Huh. I guess I did.”

“Jesse!”

“Sorry, dude! My fault for leaving my phone in my pocket while doing squats.”

“Oh my g—I thought you were dying or something!” You gripe, sighing both in relief and annoyance.

“Me? Die? Man, I’m indestructible,” Jesse proclaims. “No man can kill Jesse Chang.”

“Jesus…”

“Hey, I thought you were on a date, by the way?”

“I am.” You point out, irritated. “Well, it’s not a date, but… whatever! I’m on it now!”

“Then what are you doing calling me?”

“You called me!”

“Oh, yeah.” Jesse chuckles.

“Dude!” You huff, clicking your tongue in indignation.

“Hey, you’re listed as one of my favourite contacts. My phone was somehow compelled to communicate with you tonight for some mystical reason.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

You suppress a chuckle at hearing Jesse’s genuine howls of laughter from his end of the line.

“Alright, alright,” Jesse eventually says. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re doing alright, though?” Jesse suddenly asks, his lighthearted tone shifting to a more sincere one. “You feeling nervous?”

“Always.” You admit.

“You got this, man.”

“I-I don’t know, Jess…”

“Hey, you showed up, which means you’re halfway there already anyway.”

“I know, I know. I just… I just can’t believe I’m on an actual date. I can’t believe that I’m actually doing this.”

“I can. You are one foxy, amazing lady who deserves to be properly wined and dined.”

“Okay, grandpa.”

“There she is.”

You allow yourself to chuckle this time, suddenly feeling grateful for Jesse’s accidental buttdials tonight.

“Thanks, Jess. Needed that a bit, honestly.”

“I know, bud. Call me or D afterwards? If Anderson isn’t too busy ploughing into you or whatever it is that you lesbians do in the LGBT community.”

“Shut up!”

Jesse cackles.

“Yeah, I’ll call you guys right after.” You promise him.

“Good. Now get back to your quote-unquote date and enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do or do not. There is no—”

“Don’t you fucking quote Star Wars to me, you nerd.”

“Hey, but you recognized it. You’re the nerd.”

“Whatever! I’ll call you after, grandpa!”

“You better, young lady!”

You and Jesse share a laugh.

“Thanks, Jess. Have fun at movie night with D. Love you lots.”

“Will do. Love you too, dude.”

You murmur a farewell before ending the phone call.

Leaning against the door of the stall and sliding down slightly, the comfort of hearing Jesse’s reassurances slowly dissipates as you think about Abby patiently awaiting your return at your table. You’d been so preoccupied with the anxiety of how the date-not-a-date itself would go that you hadn’t even spared a thought about the aftermath: how is the night going to end exactly?

You gulp, suddenly aware of the way your silver heels are digging into your ankles. You feel guilty for even entertaining the thought of ending the night and running home to the embarrassing comfort of your bed.

Why can’t I just fucking give in? Why am I stopping myself? Why am I so scared about how this night is going to end?

The sound of someone else entering the restroom snaps you out of your thoughts and back into reality: the reality where you are on, what you need to admit to yourself, a date with an extremely handsome, charming woman who is willing to give you what you might just need from a romantic partner.

A couple more minutes pass where you heavily abuse your breathing techniques before you finally find the courage to pry yourself off the door. You emerge from the stall just as your nameless powder room companion exits.

You dare look at yourself in the mirror. Surprised to see a little bit of eyeliner smudged underneath your eyes, you quickly grab a paper towel to dab at it.

Did I really just cry while I was on that phone call with Jesse? Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?

You nearly poke yourself in the eye from frustration and stare at your tired reflection. The only thing that wills you to leave your restroom refuge is replaying Jesse’s supportive words of encouragement.

He believes in me. Dina believes in me.

With that and a heavy exhale, you finally depart the restroom.

As you finish off the last few crunchy croutons on your plate, you watch as Abby does the same with the French dish she’d ordered that you’d never heard of and had some weird-sounding name that you can’t pronounce.

“You sure you don’t want dessert?” She asks you, setting down her spoon.

“Abby,” You say sternly. “You already wore me down into getting an actual entrée and a glass of Moscato. You are not getting me dessert too.”

“Dinner is just not complete without it!”

“That is some rich people behaviour that I will not indulge in.”

Abby laughs as you give her a half smile. In the back of your mind, you’re relieved that Abby’s evening wasn’t spoiled by your impromptu phone call and your slight shift in attitude that followed. She thankfully hadn’t noticed your fingers fiddling with your dress in your lap or your quiet but involuntary tapping of your right foot underneath the table. The more the evening progressed, the more anxious you became about the possibility of her eventually noticing your fidgeting.

After the dessert flan she’d ordered is placed in front of her, Abby takes a small bite and lets out a moan of satisfaction.

“I love me a good flan.”

“That good, huh?”

“Fucking amazing. Here, try some.”

“Oh, no. You already tried to feed me your weird ass French dish from earlier. Besides, I’m way too stuffed already.”

“All you ate was a Caesar salad!”

“It was huge! It was Olive Garden-sized!”

“Just have a bit of the flan!”

“You ordered it! I don’t wanna eat something that you ordered for yourself!”

“Come on, pretty girl. Just a bite!”

You groan at her insistence.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Miss Anderson.”

“Completely. Now open up.”

You lean across the table as Abby meets you halfway with a piece of flan on a fork. She delicately places it on your tongue, her sky blue eyes meeting yours.

Your throat swells up with nervousness and you feel short of breath as your chest tightens. You move to sit down from how dizzy you’re getting, but your eyes widen as Abby’s thumb suddenly brushes against your jaw.

“Hang on. Some of it is dripping down.”

Abby’s tongue involuntarily sticks out as she wipes away the syrupy caramel from your chin. Your eyes widen as your lips turn a shade paler than usual.

Oh, god. Oh god oh god oh god.

“U-uhh, um, th-thanks, Abs.” You stutter as you clumsily take your seat.

“No problem,” Abby says, a corner of her lip cocking up in a half-smile. “Don’t need you all sticky.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you feel a tingle travel from the crown of your head all the way down to your heel-strapped ankles. Abby smirks slightly as she sips from her Old Fashioned, smugly leaning back into her chair.

Oh, god.

Being the natural gentlemanwoman that she is, Abby holds the door open for you as you step out of Orchards and onto the street.

“Ladies first.” She says playfully.

“Oh, stop.” You chuckle.

Abby grins as she gives the host by the podium a parting, thankful wave.

Teetering back and forth on your feet and playing with the sound of clicking your heels were making, you nervously stare up at the night sky. When you had been making your way to Orchards earlier in the evening, the sun was still descending in the west and casting a beautiful, pink hue through clusters of cumulonimbus. Now, the sky is clear of any clouds, and the moon in its waning phase along with the constellations dimly light the quiet downtown area of this college town.

Suddenly spotting a few celestial patterns that looked all too familiar from a face you’d been trying to put out of your mind all night, you tear your eyes away from the stars to meet Abby’s sky blue eyes.

“H-hey,” You hesitatingly start. “Th-thank you for tonight. This honestly was really nice.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I really did, Abs,” You smile. “I haven’t had a nice, ritzy night like this in a while. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had a really fancy night like this before.”

“That so? Might have to take you out on dates like this more often, if that’s the case.” She pauses for a second, the usual confident expression on her face fading to be replaced with one of uncertainty. “Or… well, not a date exactly—”

“Abby.” You giggle. “This was clearly a date.”

“Yeah? So you finally decided?” Abby asks, her usual swagger back.

“We got all dressed up and went to a very nice, swanky restaurant. You insisted on paying the entire bill and everything.”

“Hey, that’s what friends do.”

“Are we?” You ask, turning to completely face her.

“What?”

“Friends? Just friends?”

“Hmm…” Abby hums.

She takes you by surprise as she pulls you closer towards her by the hips. You stumble on your heels, catching yourself by your hands on her sturdy chest. You look up, meeting her bright, blue eyes that contradict that of the starry, shadowy sky. Fingers involuntarily clutching at her shirt, you gulp an anxious whimper down your tight throat.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” Abby whispers.

Your fingertips grow cold against her chest.

“I-I-I’m— I don’t—”

“Oh, hang on. Hold still.” Abby suddenly says.

Her hand comes up to your face and her long fingers gingerly brush against your nose. She pulls her hand back, clutching something in between her fingers.

“Got a loose eyelash.” She says, holding up for you to see. “Make a wish.”

You entertain her and firmly close your eyes. You try racking your brain for a wish worth making to immediately come to you, but no desire materializes.

So instead, you ask the universe for a vague, ubiquitous wish: for it to divinely and kindly lead you down the right path.

You open your eyes and softly blow the eyelash out of Abby’s fingers. You lose sight of it instantly as Abby parts her pointer and thumb to release it into the open air.

Abby brings her hand up once more, this time to caress her fingers across your cheek. Every inch of your body suddenly goes up in flames, and you’re almost surprised that Abby hasn’t retracted her hand from the pure heat of it.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight.” She says seriously.

“O-of course, Abs.” You whisper.

“I know you’ve been hesitant about things, and I won’t pry on why—”

“It’s really gonna nothing to do with you, Abs, I promise—“

“No, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to. I don’t want to push you on it.”

You swallow.

“But I just want you to know,” Abby continues. “I do like you, you know. A lot. I think you’re seriously so smart and silly and so, so stunning .”

“Abs, be serious—”

“I am.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah. So if you ever wanna give me a chance, I’m right here. I’m ready for anything you want.”

You gulp.

“I-I’m not sure… not sure if you’re ready for all this. All of me and my baggage.”

She takes your face between both her hands.

“I’m ready for anything, pretty girl.”

Before you know it, Abby’s mouth is suddenly on yours, enveloping you in a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, like she’s deliberately being mindful of how she touches you.

You’d expected this the second her skin made contact with yours, but your body still reacts in complete surprise. You don’t kiss her back just yet, everything in you completely stuck in place. Your hands have an impulse to push her away, but a voice inside you begins to cry out.

Kiss her! Kiss her the fuck back! Kiss her now!

Fingers finally moving from their frozen state and grasping at her chest, you begin to kiss her back with hesitant fervour.

The second your lips begin to move with hers, her delicateness turns into zeal. Her hands fall back down to your hips, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat pounding next to yours, drums sounding together unsynchronized but thundering. You let out a sudden and soft moan, and Abby deepens the kiss.

She parts her mouth slowly and you feel her tongue against your teeth. You whimper when she starts to suck on your bottom lip as a hand comes up to clutch your hair. As you wrap your arms around her neck, you open your mouth slightly to invite her in further.

After what feels like hours of you two intimately intertwined, you break the kiss to catch a much-needed breath.

You open your eyes to meet Abby’s sky blue ones, even brighter than they were before. Her smile is wider than you’ve ever seen it, emanating a radiant glow.

“Th-that was…” She began.

“Y-y…” You try to say, but you can’t seem to find your voice.

Her hand brushes against your cheek once more as you feel your throat begin to close up once more.

W-wait. My throat. It’s actually—

Before you can muster any words, you feel your breathing stop completely and the entire world suddenly goes black.

author’s notes:

BELLE FINALLY POSTING AFTER MONTHS OF NO NCTY?! A MIRACLE

thank you for bearing with me during these past couple of months. i know many of y'all have been waiting very patiently, and i hope this chapter was worth the wait!

in true belle fashion, orchards is named after a restaurant that already exists in the games

reader's ellie box is totally not inspired exactly by the box i used to have for my ex-girlfriend, described exactly the same way and contained a whole bunch of stuff like the tickets from when we went to moma and the playbill when we went to see waitress on broadway....

mentions of daisies is because they symbolize innocence (also one of my fave students is named daisy)

ahhh sploofs. such flashbacks to when i lived with live-in ex at her dormitory in college. those were so annoying to make.

reader's love for writing handwritten letter is inspired by my own love for it. i write my friends letters all the time and seal them with cute wax seals. i have like, at least 15 different wax seals and i love them all. yes i do have a fern wax seal too. also reader has a sunflower seal bc it is my fave flower

reader's dress is purple for symbolism cause purple sometimes represents anxiety which... mood

the truffle tots are just a fun little reference to these truffle tots that my live-in ex and i get every time we go to this one gay bar, that shit is so fucking good

more of reader and ellie's relationship bc i love jesse but also i think a show of a healthy, platonic relationship between a lesbian and a straight man is important

jesse's line about never dying is a little heehee reference to the game obvi but also him saying that no man can kill him is like that lord of the rings line where eowyn says "i am no man" cause abby is obviously a woman lol

abby is eating flan bc i love flan (leche flan to be exact)

heehee leave some theories in the notes or in y'all's tags on what happened to reader at the end

love y'all so so much. chapter 13 is mostly written so stay tuned for an upcoming update very soon...

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @ valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

@ softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @ elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @ tayyyystan, @emothurman

@ livvy-2000, @ abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @robinismywifee, @ villainousbear, @ scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk

@awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @jade-posts-sometimes, @ anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl

@alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, @ cass00x, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, @ tfuuka, @ellielover69, @ewwitsbella, @ igoferalforelliewilliams, @kissesforells,

@ asteroidzzzn, @ 97cityy, @ joliettes, @ p1llowthoughtss, @ aouiaa, @ lez-zuha, @ ineffablefics, @ peepshake, @ lil-elliesgf, @ wex--12, @ ccinnamongrl, @ siriusblackrunmeover17, @ whenlostinthedarkness,

@ feelsoseencantdream, @ bellasfavepansexual, @ mina-281, @ harrysslutsstuff, @ lil-elliesgf, @ p4ison1vy, @ eurewili, @ miksde

please note that i am no longer accepting requests to be added to the taglist, so if you would like to be notified when a new chapter comes out, please follow @belleloves and turn notifications on!

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #v #belle writes

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alloftheimagines · 2 years ago

Text

joel miller | don't let me drown

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.4k

warnings: drowning, hurt/comfort, angst, lil bit of nude cuddling for warmth reasons but nothing steamy, strong language, inspired by ep six but i changed it up so the bridge is unsteady for the purposes of *drama*. hint towards age-gap with reader in their thirties. they/them pronouns. no y/n.

synopsis: in which the reader falls into the river of death, and it's joel's job to save you and find shelter. featuring ellie. not requested!

You used to think snow was pretty. Magical, even. Now, you only think it’s a bitch to travel through, especially on foot with the harsh mountain winds blowing off the river.

Of course, you can’t complain because the fourteen-year-old and fifty-six-year-old aren’t, and you’re probably supposed to be fitter than the two of them put together. But inside… fuck. You’re exhausted, freezing, and desperate to get to your next destination so you can sleep on something other than ice and mud.

When the bridge comes into view, relief washes through you. If you can get away from the open water, maybe the winds won’t be so biting and you’ll finally be able to feel your cheeks again. You puff out a visible breath and glance at Joel, who is both pale and rosy-cheeked from the cold. Ellie follows behind, watchful as ever. You can’t imagine what it must be like for her, trekking so far from where she began. Seeing so much. It’s been rough on all of you, but you’ve made it through together. Whatever comes next should be a breeze.

“Keep a lookout,” Joel warns, poising his handgun and nodding at you to do the same. You’ve been warned that nothing good can be found by the river, and it’s left an unsettling silence between you since you started your journey.

You dip your head, preparing your own gun as Ellie does the same. But if anything is here, you don’t see it — not on this side of the bridge or the other. It’s a rickety old thing, but if it gets you across… it’ll do.

“C’mon,” he grunts. The bridge creaks beneath your feet, and you follow Joel’s footsteps to avoid any weak spots. Until gunshots sound somewhere in the distance. You all jump, but it’s you who loses your footing as a chunk of rotten wood disappears beneath your feet. Before you can find something to grab onto, you’re falling, screaming, clutching thin air. Joel yells your name with a fear you haven’t heard in a while, but his voice is lost as the rushing water swallows you up.

Freezing. So cold it makes you burn. The river turns your world grey and endless, as though you’re floating in a void. You thrash, trying to kick up to the surface, but the shock is jolting through you, making you numb, and you can’t remember how to use your limbs.

You cough and gulp down an unbearable amount of water, and that’s when you know. There’s no air, no way of making your lungs work. They just keep burning, squeezing for something that no longer exists. Your vision goes blurry and then disappears completely.

***

Joel watches it in slow motion. The splintering bridge. The fall. The ripple in the river as it chews you up and doesn’t spit you out. He doesn’t realise he’s screaming your name, doesn’t realise he’s even running, until he reaches the other side of the bridge.

“Stay there!” he orders Ellie with a warning finger, fear ricocheting through his voice, through the trees. You’re gone is all he can think. You’re gone, and he can’t fucking do this without you.

His knees ache as he half-sprints, half-slips down the embankment, kicking snow into the river. After shucking off his shotgun and placing it down, he takes off his jacket in a moment of clarity, knowing you’re going to need something warm. And then he’s plunging into the river, cursing at its low temperature. His teeth chatter as he shouts your name, searching for any sign in the steadily flowing water. But there’s nothing. He dives under when he gets closer to the bridge, skin becoming ice as he searches the murky depths.

He has to come up for air twice before he finds you sinking to the riverbed. He’s never moved so fast, snatching you up in both arms and pulling you to the surface. You’re deadweight in his arms, and panic lances through him when he finds you’re eyes closed.

He calls your name again, urgency sharpening his words as he pulls you to the embankment. Despite his orders, Ellie waits there, eyes wide and afraid. He doesn’t have time to scold her. He’s too busy carrying you out, water pooling at his feet as he staggers to solid ground and lays you down.

“Baby?” He shakes you, droplets falling from his face and onto yours as he kneels over you. “Come on. Come on, baby.”

He presses an ear to your chest: finds no sign of breathing.

“Shit.” He begins compressions then, counting to thirty before giving you mouth to mouth. Your lips are ice cold, and so are his, his knuckles reddening as he presses the heel of his hand down again and again and again. “Come on. Come on. Breathe.”

“Joel,” Ellie whispers, terror in her voice.

He squeezes his eyes closed, unable to face what it means. What might be happening. He isn’t losing you today. Not any day. “Come on. Come back to me. Come back to me, darlin’.”

Your breath gutters, and instinct has him rolling you onto your side as you cough up more water than any person should be able to.

“Fuck,” he’s saying, rubbing warmth into your shoulders. “Ellie, grab my coat.”

She does, and he wraps it around your quivering body before pulling you close. “I got you,” he’s whispering. “I got you, darlin’. I'm here."

More coughs leave you, and he brushes your hair off your forehead to look for any sign of injury. Your lips are blue, and it terrifies him. Cold water shock can kill, and the way you went under… Shit, it’s a miracle you’re here, upright.

You’re shivering so violently that he knows the worst isn’t over. Hypothermia. Pneumonia. Those are just some of the things he’ll have to watch for. He can’t take you anywhere like this, can’t protect Ellie or you, but you can’t stay here either. You need to warm up. You both do.

“We need to find shelter. Somewhere to light a fire and get warm.”

“I saw some rock overhangs deeper in the woods,” Ellie said.

“Can you grab the bags?”

“Yeah.” She slips a backpack on each shoulder and then props Joel’s shotgun under her arm. Not ideal, but he can’t think about that now either. Not when you’re barely opening your eyes.

He breathes your name and then: “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

A faint nod.

“Good. That's good. We're gonna get you warm.” He pulls you into his chest, hooking an arm under your knee and the other around your back. You sink into his warmth, but you’re so limp that it terrifies him as he carries you up the embankment, following Ellie’s lead.

Sure enough, she guides you both to a deep overhang beneath snow-topped crags, and he dips his head to fit in the low space. He places you against the wall, already unravelling the bed rolls.

“Get a fire going,” he says. He’s certain that he had a few matches left last time he checked, and Ellie rifles through his bag before producing them. With shaky hands, she gathers a pile of sticks and surrounds them by rocks just like he taught her before lighting the match and letting it spread.

The twigs are damp and produce a lot of smoke, but sure enough, an amber glow lights the dark shelter a moment later.

“That’s it. Good,” he whispers.

Ellie glances at your hunched form warily. You’re so pale, so cold you’re practically convulsing. “Are they gonna be okay?”

“Have to be,” Joel mutters. He slips off your sopping wet coat and sweater, and Ellie turns away as he gets rid of the rest.

“You still with me?” he asks you.

You hum in response, folding into yourself in your nudity.

“Here.” Covering her eyes, Ellie hands him a spare long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweats from her own pack, luckily from Bill’s stash of adult clothes.

“Thanks,” he replies, urging your arms up so he can slip on the shirt. It’s an uncomfortable ordeal with your clammy skin, but he needs you warm. Now. Even when you groan, skin no doubt stinging painfully. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

He has to pull you up for the sweatpants, and then he’s rolling thick thermal socks onto your feet and tucking you into blankets and bedrolls. “How’s that? Feel warmer?”

You shake your head, and he helps you shuffle closer to the fire.

“Now?”

A nod that has him relieved. He can’t help but place a kiss on your damp forehead, realising too late that he’s cold and shivering too. He only has another flannel in his backpack, though, and he can survive until he’s at least gotten you warm. Protecting you from his damp clothes using the bedroll, he wraps his arms around you to keep in the heat.

“Gave me a damn heart attack,” he mumbles into your hair, squeezing his eyes closed to chase away the darkness creeping in. The thought of losing you. All the other scenarios where you didn’t end up here with him after the fall. He should have been smarter. Shouldn’t have taken you across that damn bridge.

The ghost of a smile crosses your flame-lit face. “Sorry." And then: "You’re… cold too,” you rasp between shivers. “Get in here.”

He glances at Ellie. No way in hell is he going to strip off with her here. As though understanding, she raises her brows and shifts away. “I’m going to go find out if bears really do shit in the woods.”

“Don’t go away,” he orders. “Just… give us a couple minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” She disappears, and her crunching footfalls outside keep his concern at bay.

His concern for her, at least. Your face still lacks colour, your breaths sounding watery and wrong even now. He grinds his teeth, reluctant to pull away from you for even a minute. But if he dries off, he can give you his body heat, so he quickly tears off his clothes and replaces them with the one dry shirt he owns. He doesn’t bother buttoning it up, instead crawling into the bedroll with you and enveloping you in an unyielding hold. You lean against him, eyelids drooping but shivers finally beginning to ease.

He begins to warm up after a few minutes and can only hope you are too. When he notices your eyes closed, he stiffens. “You still with me, darlin?”

“Think so,” you murmur, your cool hands travelling across his bare chest. He tries not to flinch as he directs them up to his chest. His mouth. He kisses your knuckles before cupping his own hands around yours and blowing. Then, he rubs, generating friction.

“Keep talking to me,” he pleads.

“‘Bout what?”

“Anything.” Anything, as long as you don’t leave me. As long as you stay. “What was your favourite book growing up?”

You were barely fifteen when the pandemic hit all those years ago, but you smile as you remember that old bookshelf your dad put together full of worn paperbacks. “You don’t read, Joel. You wouldn’t know even if I told you.”

“So tell me about it.” He’s still using his hands, pushing feeling back into your body bit by bit.

“I’m okay,” you whisper finally. “I’m okay, Joel. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know that.” But he won’t stop, won’t give up, even when your cheeks turn pink once more. God, he’s missed the way you glow like that, the way it looks brighter in the snow.

You take a ragged breath. “I liked Gulliver’s Travels.”

“Yeah? Who’s that by?”

“Joel…” Your eyes flutter shut. “Please. I’m tired. I’m warm. I’m okay.”

But he can’t trust it after he’s just put breath back into your lungs; can’t trust it to stay there. He holds you tighter, placing a gentle, terrified kiss into your hair, even if he’ll never admit that he is terrified. That he can’t breathe if you’re not breathing. He realised that the moment he jumped into the river without caring if it got him killed too.

You’re all he has to hold onto, and he could never let you drown.

“I just need… I need you to keep talking to me for a little longer, baby. Just until I know you’re okay,” he says.

“Okay.” So you tell him about your favourite book, drifting in and out of the conversation. Soon, you stop shivering against him and the bedroll warms with two sets of body heat, just as he’d hoped. The fire keeps up until Ellie finally comes back to refuel it with more sticks, offering Joel a smirk that he returns with a gentle glare. You barely seem to notice, still muttering.

“Sounds like a great story,” he says finally. “I think Sarah had that one.”

“Yeah.” You smile, cheeks swelling this time as you nestle into his chest. But then you cough, and he frowns. God, is this what it’s gonna be like now? One cough’ll leave him frozen with fear?

“I can read you guys a great book!” Ellie volunteers, and of course pulls out her pages of puns.

Joel groans. You chuckle, and his heart warms at the sound.

“Tell me the one with the penguins again,” you ask.

Ellie grins and flips through the pages, and you get a million more cheesy puns that make you laugh until you can no longer hold your head up. You’re certain Joel’s bare chest ripples with stifled amusement at some points.

“Joel?” you ask as Ellie turns the page.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so tired.”

Another wave of dread. He masks it clearly, examining your features. You look and feel warm, and you sound like you. If you need the rest, he can’t keep asking you not to take it for his own selfish reasons. For his own pathetic fear.

Finally, he surrenders. “Okay, darlin’. Get some sleep. We all need it.”

“Night,” Ellie says, getting comfortable in her sleeping bag.

Your eyes shut instantly and don’t open again, but your chest rises and falls smoothly against your interlocked hands. He listens to it as the shelter quietens, the fire getting lower. He listens all night just to make sure you’re still breathing. When light returns the next morning, he finds Ellie has done just the same, wide awake and unwilling to tear her gaze away from the two of you.

“They’re okay, right?” she asks.

Joel can only hope that it’s the truth when he says, “Yeah. They’re okay.”

“Good.” She nestles into her makeshift pillow — her backpack. “You’re a real grouch when they’re not around.”

He rolls his eyes, tempted to point out that he is always a grouch, though Ellie’s right. He needs you. He will always need you.

And god, he hopes he never comes close to losing you like that again.

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stardustandmeteors · 4 months ago

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Except for you | ford pines & reader (platonic)

characters: Ford pines & the reader

summary: the reader had run away from Ford's watchful eye and hid in an abandoned shack after finding out he was gonna leave them behind in a dimension for her own safety, yet all she wanted to do was follow him, because he was her safe place.

This one shot (or a future story if y'all would like one) was inspired from TLOU Part 1, but it isn't gonna be word for word, just only bits and pieces like the abandoned shack and some dialogue I remember Ellie and Joel saying. Anyway, hope u like the one shot ^^

y/n sat on the window sill, her eyes looking out into the open and slightly broken dimension her companion and guardian dragged her into. It had many other creatures here, all refugees just like her before she ran into Ford. She scoffed at the thought of his name. He was supposed to protect her from the request of her mother, because of the attack on her planet and dimension. Bill had gotten there to destroy her world, he had no reason to, but he wanted to cause chaos. He liked chaos, and he wanted to watch the place burn. Ford had found herself and her mother huddled inside of a pocket inside of their home, and she had taken it up on herself to ask the man for help. Ford was hesitant, but took y/n with him in the end, the two leaving her dimension and planet to become nothing but rubble.

Their relationship from them on had been rocky, both of them were stubborn, and they always argued, but were there for one another, despite their clashing personalities. As their time together went on, the teen had grown an attachment to Ford, and had secretly thought of the older man as a parental figure she would come to look up to. But those were crushed when she found out he wanted to abandon her here because in his words, it was "too dangerous" for her to continue because she was only fourteen.

She still gazed out the window when she heard the footfalls of Ford, his breaths came out rapidly as he glared at the young girl who looked down in her lap at the journal she stole from him when she left. "Do you have any idea the hell I went through to find you?" Ford seethed.

She flipped a page in the journal, "is this what you were worried about in your dimensions? Finals and assignments?" She asked, ignoring his question. He quirked an angry brow. She looked at him.

"The hell are you talking about?" He questioned. She held up his very old and tattered journal from thirty years ago, the one from his college years. He thought he had lost that. Ford scoffed.

"come on, we're leaving," he said, turning around.

"what, so you can abandon me?" y/n stood from her spot by the window and tucked the journal away into her overcoat (the one Ford had gifted her when she turned fourteen). Ford turned around quickly, his hard cold stare present on his face.

"they are good people, they can protect you more than I can." Ford said. That made y/n even angrier.

"that's bullshit Ford, and you know!" She exclaimed, glaring at him. She didn't want to stay, she wanted to go with him, "everyone I care for in this lifetime has either left me or died, fucking everyone except for you!" She shoved him when she got close, which caused him to stumble a bit in surprise and shock. She could feel the tears already gathered at the corners of her eyes. "So please, don't tell me I'll be safer with these people, cause the truth is Ford, I'll just be more scared."

He ignored the gathered tears and gave her the same cold stare he's adopted on his travels to escaping Bill, she took a small Shakey breath, clutching her sides as she looked at the older man. "In the journal, I read about a man named Stanley. He's your brother, isn't he?"

It seemed all they knew how to do was scoff, "that has no concern to you kid, stay out of my family business." He said, going forwards to grab the journal from her pocket.

"well, I'm not Stanley, you can't treat me like how you treated your bother..." She wasn't sure if she should bring another point up for the man, but she was already digging herself into a bigger grave. "... I'm, also not her, you know."

"what?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"I wasn't the only kid you decided to pick up, was I? I saw it in one of your other newer journals when you weren't looking. I'm not Lizzie." She said. He looked ready to go off on her. She knew she had crossed a line, but she couldn't help it. All these people and he only saw her as Stanley or Lizzie, not as her own person. He continued to glare at her.

"You're right, you're not like Stan..." He trailed off, "... Or my daughter... And I sure as hell ain't your dad." He spoke, his voice wavering as tears gathered in his eyes. He could see how broken she looked, and it had shattered his already crumbling heart from the way she was looking at him. He could tell she was beginning to lose hope in surviving. "After we get back, we go our separate ways." He said, his voice hardening.

"whatever you say... Sir." She growled.

He should've expected a response such as that to leave her mouth, but he couldn't help but be hurt by the lack of emotions behind her voice. She reverted back to calling him sir, from when he first took her under his wing after the destruction of her home world because of Bill. And now he regrets ever coming up with the idea of leaving her behind.

so, how was it? Would y'all like a full story like this for a Ford and Daughter Reader? If so, would u like it to be on Wattpad or AO3?

#ford pines #stanford pines #dimension hopper #platonic relationship #father daughter relationship #female reader #tlou reference #gravity falls #x reader #reader insert #tw cursing #teen reader #angst #dimensions #destroyed dimension

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coeurify · 2 years ago

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perfect girl II | ellie williams.

tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. part one here. part three here. not heavily proofread. 6.6k words

after the first time you hooked up, resident university dealer ellie williams cant keep away from you, despite your avoidance.

this has smut, 18+ only. mean!reader , mean!ellie. sort of dom/sub dynamics. name calling, lots of fighting. they fuck instead of talking through the tension. oral!ellie receiving, thigh riding!reader receiving. slight choking. just lots of filth.

It had been two weeks. Fourteen days to be exact. 3 parties had passed by that time. You went to none of them.

Two weeks after you walked out of that room from that frat party, tugging your skirt down and avoiding as many prying eyes as you could until you were out the door, a certain university drug dealer hot on your tail.

Fourteen days since you let Ellie leave you at the door of your sorority with nothing more than a thank you for getting you home. The cold walk back to campus had been enough to send you into avoidance mode. You slept alone that night, and dreamt of what happened. Over and over.

Three parties passed, and you avoided going to each one. One was a day after the incident, and you used the excuse of studying to hide out in your room with a sweatshirt that covered the marks on your neck. Mostly however it was so you didn’t have to meet her eyes.

The second and third party you avoided were last weekend’s. You got side eyes from certain sorority sisters when you denied going— this time under the guise of being sick. Really though, you were sick. Sick from the way that stupid green eyed girl would not leave your mind. Sick of revisiting how it felt to be putty in her fucking hands. How it felt to be so close to her, the sound of her fingers moving through your folds. It never left your mind.

It was ridiculous, you had told yourself that over and over. She wasn’t worth your time of day. Was not worthy of the space in your mind she occupied. But it didn’t help. You still found every waking moment consumed by her.

By the time of tonight's party, what would be the fourth you had bailed on.. only Dina popped her head in to ask you to go. Of course you refused, which now left you in the almost completely empty sorority house.

Maybe it made you a bad sorority member to do this, to avoid what was essentially your duty. But none of the girls wanted to deal with your ever growing attitude and sharp glares when it was brought up. So you were not poked and prodded for answers to your sudden refusal.

Currently laying on your bed, you rubbed a hand over your tired eyes. The blanket beneath you shifted as you turned, annoying you. You needed to find a distraction— something to keep your mind from wandering to wondering what a certain somebody might be doing at the party happening right now. You found yourself surveying your room in search of anything to clean to appease this.

The lights dangling across your walls lit the small area a warm golden, showcasing the neat and clean walls and dressers. You barely had anything hanging from your walls.. spare a few photos and a calendar labeled with pink pen marks. Not a single thing was out of place or messy. Just like your appearance, you pride yourself on an absolutely perfect living space. Books tucked into shelves by color. Clothes hung in your closet by type and size. Even your desk had no sign you were an overly stressed university student.

You raise yourself from the plush pillow on your bed, tying your hair into a neat ponytail as you stand. You get to work quickly. You rearrange the soft colored comforter to be even.. styling the pillows to appear untouched. It wasn’t like anyone would ever see it, but the perfection of it all gave you a sense of calm nothing else could.

Looking too long made you think of the dark blue blanket on that bed, on being fucked into the much stiffer mattress. God, the thought made shame boil up in your stomach. Unable to tell if that shame came from the act itself or the absolute zero contact that followed it. Not wanting to think about it, you move to the desk in your room, grabbing a folder to tuck it away.

The only noise is the wooden floorboard that creaks under your feet— otherwise completely silent. There aren't many times like this when you live in a house full of young adult women, so you welcome the silence happily.

However, it isn’t quiet for long. You can hear the telltale sound of the large wooden door up front slamming open. It springs a frown to your face as you quickly glance at the small alarm clock on your desk. It was only around Ten, no way were the girls home already.

The noise continues, footsteps much too noisy to be any of your friends stomping up the stairs and down the hallway. You pause as they get closer.

A million options race your mind at what may be happening. Dina coming home early after a fight with her boyfriend Jesse. Another member sneaking a boy into her room (which was heavily against the rules from your sorority leaders..). Maybe even an axe murderer. When they harshly knock at your door, you begin to lean toward the third option.

Not a single pocket of your mind however thought of what came next.

“Open your door.”

It’s loud and angry sounding, and very obviously Ellie’s voice.

The folder in your hand drops to the ground, and you scramble to pick it up as quietly as possible. You don’t answer at first, though you guess she could have heard the squeak that passed your lips when her fist slammed again on the door.

“I know you’re in that room. Your name is on the fucking door, just open it.”

The tone leaves little room for you to get out of the situation, so you instead quickly tug your sleep shorts down to cover more of your thighs and walk to the door. Taking a deep breath in to compose yourself, you shuffle slightly. You do your best to fall into that attitude you always had with her as your fingers graze the doorknob. But it’s a bit harder this time to play the stone cold bitch when all that annoyance had been replaced with a sickening sort of need that you tried desperately to ignore.

Still, you put a tight lipped frown on your face as you open the door. “What the fuck do you want Ellie?”

Ellie looks at you, still wearing her jacket and backpack she brought to parties to sell her weed. She looked good, even dressed as messily as this. The backpack clued you into the fact she may have left the party, but you can’t fathom why.

Her cheeks are a shade of red that you hadn’t ever seen before. Her lip is bitten raw— which makes you queasy if you think about it too long. Her hair is tugged into that style that you so desperately hate again. It’s the first time in weeks you had seen her face, and it all makes you so dizzy.

“What the fuck do I want? That's how you wanna greet me after this shit?” Ellie scoffed, pulling you out of your mind. “Let me in your room.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms and standing directly in front of the gap in the door.

“Let me in the room or I swear to fucking god I will scream so loud everyone on the block will know i’m here.”

The childish comment makes you roll your eyes, comforting yourself in the familiar fire it brings about. You settle into it easily, like a blanket over frozen skin. It's much easier than whatever your emotion surrounding her has been lately. You can work with this. You can keep her away with this.

“Fine, but you can’t have that in my room, it smells like weed.” You motion your head to her bag, still vehemently against that awful smell that you had grown accustomed to smelling on her the past months.

Ellie was not exactly in the mood to take orders from you, as the weeks of anger from your ghosting was now spilling over like boiling water in a pot. Ever since that night she had been tightly wound up. Your missing appearances at the parties only made it worse.

But still she shrugged the backpack off of her shoulders, harshly shoving it to the ground outside your door and stepping in as you tried to protest the sorority girls seeing it.

She didn’t listen to any of your words, slamming the door shut behind you two, taking in your room with a quick glance. “Tell me why you’re avoiding the parties.”

Having Ellie in your space made you itchy all over— you picked at the skin of your nails to calm yourself. You eyed the way she stepped, watched her look around at your belongings. Of course you didn’t answer her question . “Can you avoid the rug if you aren’t gonna take off your shoes? It’s white.”

Ellie looked at you straight in the eyes as she raised her foot and stepped onto the carpet. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Answer my fucking question.”

“Get off my fucking carpet,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest again. You were both being childish now, a trait that only seemed to come out of you around her.

Ellie again went directly against what you asked. Instead stepping over your carpet again to make her way toward your neatly tucked in bed. She looked at the colors there, gentle pastels and whites. It doesn’t surprise her. Just as soft as you. But that also isn’t what she's here to focus on.

“Answer me,” she asks again, this time just a tad softer.

You refuse to meet her eyes— instead moving to finally put your folder back in its place on your shelf. You stay silent as your mind works through what to say next.

“Are those fucking color coded?”

You shoot a glare at Ellie, but it doesn’t work on her. It never really has. She doesn’t look away like any other college kid would around you. She just looks straight back.

“I’m sick Ellie, that's why I haven’t been to parties. I also happen to actually care about my grades and studying unlike you.”

The jab falls from you too easily. You almost feel bad for it, but Ellie doesn’t seem phased. She looks at the pictures near your bed, and then back to you. Standing directly across from you now, she takes another moment to answer.

“That’s bullshit and you and I both know it.”

Shrugging, you turn back to your desk. “Don't know what you mean. I have no reason to lie.”

You can hear Ellie make a noise behind you, and you just know she’s shaking her head in that disbelieving way.

“No reason, really Y/N?” Her voice is near now— almost like she’s stepping closer. You breathe in sharply and try to busy yourself fixing pens on your desk. Her calling you by name almost shakes you as much as her being here in the first place. No nicknames you claimed to hate.. just a harsh tone.

You can’t answer, shaking your head. You just need a moment to collect yourself, to find something inside that can make you strong enough to face her and tell her to get the fuck out.

You are not given that chance, a wandering hand moving to the hem of your tanktop to stop you from moving. It makes the top feel much too revealing now, goosebumps popping up on your arms immediately. The hand moved to turn you around. You go without a fight. But your palms grip the wood of the desk behind you when you are met with Ellie’s close by frame. It feels too reminiscent of you pressed against the edge of that bed in the frat house. You focus your eyes behind her to at least find solace in not having to meet her gaze.

“Nothing of importance happened at the last party you went to?” She pried, “Nothing to make you nervous to go to the next?”

“Nope.”

Ellie seemed to absolutely hate that answer, rolling her eyes and letting her hand fall from its place on your skin.

“Still a bitch I see. You leave me on your doorstep after I fuck you, and then completely avoid me for weeks? Now you have the damn nerve to act like none of it happened?”

The way she says the words makes you want to fall in on yourself. Ellie sounds angry still, undoubtedly. But there’s something else there.. something that sounds like hurt.

“It was just a hookup, Ellie. You have no right to show up here. You said I needed to get laid, so I got laid. Didn’t think it was mind blowing enough to warrant a response like this.” You motion to her.

The words are said in an even tone— desperately trying to cling to any semblance of nonchalantness. But it's mean, you know that. To act like it meant little more than if you had jumped the bones of one of those frat boys who clawed after you. It was harsh to act like that hadn’t been the best fucking sex of your life. But mean and harsh was what you were best at when it came to Ellie.

The sentence didn’t have the intended effect on Ellie though, who knew your tricks too well to actually feel wounded. No, it just made her more fucking frustrated with you. On how you could try and deny how much of a mess she had made you. There was no way you had forgotten, she sure as hell hadn't. “Right. Not mind blowing enough but it made you run scared from any party I may be at.”

“You think too highly of yourself Ellie. It hasn’t crossed my mind once.” It’s obviously a lie as soon as you say it. The way your voice wavers enough for Ellie to pick up on leaves no room to deny it.

She watches you, jaw tensing. Her eyes shift around and you can tell she’s mulling over her next decision.

When she finally speaks, it's in an annoyingly high pitched tone. “Oh Ellie please touch me,” she begins taunting.

You shove her away quickly, a fast flame rising in your stomach. You know exactly what she’s doing. How could you forget those words?

She doesn’t stop, placing a hand on her chest as she continues to speak. “No one else ellie,” she pulls out a faux moan that makes you want to slam your head into the desk. “Wanna make you feel good, el..” she continues to recount your own words back at you in a whiny tone.

It works, the mocking she’s doing. Shame bubbles up in you and pulls at each nerve on your body. You feel hot all over, stomach churning and feet pressing heavily into the floor under you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you demand, slapping her arm as you puff little angry breaths out. Her posture is less tight now, the embarrassing joke seeming to calm her. Of course it did.

Ellie doesn’t stop, the sting of the slap only drawing her close to you again. A smile dawns on her freckled face as she continues her teasing. The quick switch from steadily angry and serious to this.. it throws you for a loop.

“Had you fucking crying for me, princess. Now you wanna act like it was some subpar hookup?”

Your mind tries to straighten out your thoughts, pick through your brain to find a worthy retaliation. But there is none. She had you snared tightly in this trap. You had no fucking way out. No snarky remark could free you from the powerless feeling currently falling over you. Your heart pulses under your tight chest and you can only manage a scoff in response.

It amuses Ellie enough to draw a laugh from her. One completely at your expense. “What? Can’t deny it?”

When you resort to silence and a mean look, Ellie smiles widely. “Don’t even need you to say it, I got the answer I was looking for. Its driving you fucking crazy that you liked it so much? Right? Can’t stop thinking about it?” Her feet drag closer, finger moving to grace over the goosebumps on your arm. “Avoid coming to parties ‘cause you know I’ll be there right baby?”

The way she coo’s the pet name makes you want to wobble. But you refuse to give in.

“Too scared you’d want me again? That it wouldn’t even take you ten minutes to be begging at my feet to steal you off to a bedroom?”

You try to turn your chin away and avoid her seeing your blush, but she grabs your face so you have to look at her.

“You know how easy it was to make you all pathetic, princess? You knew it wouldn’t be hard to get you all whiny like that again, Didn’t you?”

You shake your head to deny it, but the way you tremble under her touch gives it away.

“I should leave you here, you know? Get you all worked up then walk off. Just like you did to me.”

Something blossoms in you to hear her admit you got her worked up. That you had affected her even a fraction as much as she had to you. You swallow it down like nails in your throat, gulping.

She pauses her constant stream of taunts to look down at your shirt and shorts. So pretty and expensive. So you. Now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” She’s speaking lowly— cutting off her words before they can seem desperate. She wants this just as badly as you try to deny you do, and you know that. You know you have a moment to decide your next course of action. To scream at her to get off you, to kick her to the curb and protect yourself from the mess sure to follow whatever would happen. You knew there was no going back if you did this again.

You don’t. You don’t say a single fucking thing. And that’s plenty of an answer for Ellie. She moves quickly to remove the hand from your chin— instead moving it to your shoulder. “Get on your knees.”

The demand finally gets words out of you, eyebrows furrowing. “Huh?”

“Get on your knees.” she repeats. Ellie’s tone is harsh again, back to whatever space she seems to enter around you. She pushes you a bit— showing exactly what she wants you to do.

It doesn’t take much of a shove to fall to the hard wood of the floor. She didn’t even move you to the carpet. Fucking dick.

You try to bite back the overwhelming shame it gives you to look up under your lashes at Ellie. She watches you, waiting for you to adjust as she walks around you to lean against the desk.

“You remember what you said before I took you home? That you wanted to make me feel good?” Ellie hums, tilting her head down at you.

“Stop bringing that up,” you grit.

“You aren’t exactly in the position to be making demands, princess.” She brings her foot forward to tap your knees gently.. reminding you of the fact you are quite literally beneath her.

“You owe me, got me so fucking worked up y’know?” Her hand moves down to work on the button of her old jeans. The realization of what was coming shakes you, heart jumping into your throat.

You don’t answer, instead watching as she motions to you. “C'mere baby, take my pants off for me.”

It feels demeaning, the way you crawl forward slightly to be directly at her feet. Staring at her, you make a small groan, hoping she may spare the embarrassment.

It was embarrassing nonetheless, even more so when she shook her head and again motioned for you to move. It made you sick how easily you had fallen to your knees. Figuratively and literally. How quickly she had coaxed submission out of your usually stubborn demeanor was almost pathetic. You do it anyway, manicured fingers raising to the denim and pulling it down with a blush. You pull them from her legs and watch as she kicks them into a pile with her shoes. On top of your white carpet of course.

You look up at her again, watching as her expression changes at this sight. “So fuckin pretty on your knees for me baby.”

The praise makes you squirm— the warmth now radiating into your lower belly.

“Want you to make me feel better. Think I deserve that after you leave me high and dry hm?”

It’s true, even more so than you would like to admit. It was a total asshole move to ghost her after both of you implied there would be something more. Right now it isn’t a very serious dig— not when she knows what's coming.. but it still has you feeling desperate to make up for it.

It takes a lot to force the next words out of your throat, “Yea.” The one word feels like admitting you were wrong, that she had the power. So it's hard to say, still ruled by the embarrassment all of this situation brings.

She debates forcing you to say more, but you still seem to be only dipping into that pool of submission you had been in last time.. so she gives you a moment.

“Want you to let me fuck your face, can you do that for me?”

You want to stand up right then. You want to refuse to do something so degrading, you want to ignore the way the words make you feel. But you can’t. Not right now. Not for her.

However she won't get an answer out of you, just a nod of permission. The silence annoys her, hand moving to pull at your tied up hair in response despite promising herself a slow start. “Stop the silent act, answer me. Tell me you want this.”

You clench your jaw, not ready to give in. When she gives another tug to your hair, this one harsh enough to pull a yelp from you.. it makes you change your mind.

“Yes Els, I want this, I want to make you feel good.”

The words start off quietly, still finding your footing to avoid burning alive from embarrassment. But as you continue, as you watch the way she seems so pleased to hear it.. It becomes easier. It's more natural when you add in another, “please.”

How she had this pretty little stuck up sorority girl wrapped around her finger was enough to make her wet, but the way you stared up at her, mouth slightly agape upon seeing the black boxers she was wearing, god did it make it even better.

“Alright princess, open your mouth ‘n stick out your tongue for me,” Ellie requests, pulling her boxers off as you do so. It feels too wrong to steal any glance at her body.. despite how you wanted to. It was more than you had ever seen, as she was completely dressed when she had gotten you in a position like this before. Surprisingly having been the put together one in that situation.. and you had an inkling it would end similarly today.

But you can't help it, eyes following her movement as you come eye to eye with her glistening centre. If you had been more mouthy still- you would have made a comment about how wet she was. But the sight renders you speechless. Licking your lips as you squeeze your own thighs together. “Ready?” she asks— tone too even, mouth too harshly pulled into a straight line. The auburn haired girl is trying far too hard to act unaffected by you under her.

Her tattooed hand grips your hair even tighter, a burning sensation pulsing through your scalp as she pulls you closer. You welcome the pain and the dizzying sort of calm it lulls you into. Nodding, you open your mouth again to please her.

Another second passes and then she’s pressing down into you, your nose bumping her throbbing clit. It again makes another pulse of confidence run through you at the undeniable sign she needed this. Needed you.

You make quick work of kitten licking over her slit, happily drinking down the wetness there. You hear small grunts above you, and know you’re doing the right thing as you press your face further in to collect more of her taste on your tongue. You don’t care that your knees already hurt, or about the pain in your neck from leaning it back this much. Ellie certainly didn’t either as she began rocking against your lips. She trembles over you as your nose bumps into her clit again.

“Fuck, shoulda done this earlier. So much better with your mouth like this. No bitchy comments to make, hm?” Ellie says into the air, trying to hold back noises. Your eyes catch as she tilts her head back and speeds up her pace though. You flatten your tongue against her, letting her take control now.

“Shit,” she grunts again, face screwing up as she pulls your hair back and forth to move with her. Your comfortability goes completely out of the window when her stomach starts to tighten. Ellie is moving harshly against you, not caring that she's spreading her wetness all across your chin and mouth— not stopping when you start to gasp for air.

Your nails move to grip into her thigh, leaving little crescent moon shapes there. It doesn’t slow her down, more continuous grunts falling from her bitten lips. Desperate to hear more of the sounds you suck up the suffocating feeling. If you were to die here, it would be fucking happily. You continued to try your best to lap at her even with the rapid movements.

Her hips stutter, finally pushing a full moan out of her. It’s music to your ears, ringing through your mind. “Jesus, baby,” she continues, pausing on her words for another moan. You hear a slight whine there, one that makes you go unsteady. “Just like that princess, gonna come in your mouth. Fuck, I cant believe i got you like this.”

The blunt and dirty words make you whine against her, begging with more scratches down her thighs for it. for her.

Seeing you worked up over just giving her pleasure, it sends that final shockwave through her and her hips completely stop. She pulls on your hair with her fist enough for you to cry out as she works herself through the orgasm. She rocks her hips slowly for a few seconds after that, watching on as you try desperately to collect all that you can from her slit. It almost makes her come again to see it. To see how obsessed you are with her. How you searched for more

When she pulls you back by your ponytail, your chin is shiny with her. You want to complain, want to press forward and make her come again. But you can't make any words, not when she breathes out to steady her chest. Not when her hands shake as they let your hair go, moving to pull up her boxers. It tilts your universe completely off axis to see her so close to crumbling, so Un-Ellie like. You wonder if this is how she feels when you fall apart for her. You don't have long to pause on this thought before Ellie is forcing you up onto your feet, laughing when you stumble like a newborn deer.

“Ya look so messy,” she compliments, wiping a hand to clean your chin. Her green eyes meet your glistening lips, and watches as you suck the bottom one between your teeth. It drives her crazy, something telling her she may be addicted to making you fall into a state like this. Just like she had in that frat party.

“Should I leave you like this? Go have a smoke and let you get off on your own?” Ellie questions, moreso to herself. She really should, as a lesson for you. To get back at you for the last time. But god, the way you look at her, completely ready to listen.. How can she resist?

“Fuck you,” you bite— only making her smile more. There you were, even under all that cloudiness Ellie brought over you.. your attitude was still there.

“You just did, pretty,” her finger rubs over your splotchy cheek, no doubt a result from the air you were not getting when your face was pressed between her thighs.

“Ellie..” you mumble, beginning to actually worry she would leave. She had every right to. But the wetness you feel in your panties, the burn between your thighs.. it's making you ready to get on your knees again to beg.

She sighs, walking across your floor until she hits your bed, tumbling back on it. “Hm?”

“Im-” you puff air into your cheeks for a long breath, following her like a lost puppy. It brings that addicting feeling of power back into Ellie’s body, and she lounges herself comfortably on your comforter. “You're what.. tell me..” she tilts her head.

“Ellie cmon,” you can't help the whine to your voice. “I need you.” You mumble as you crawl onto your bed and on top of her. The sight amuses Ellie, who watches you with little interest.

“Dunno, I'm pretty tired,” Ellie shrugs, stretching out and leaning against your pillows. You fight the urge to tell her off for it, much more focused on getting rid of the ache between your legs. you pout, unable to stop it. “El..” you are full out whining now— only further egged on into your desperation when she lets you move to straddle her waiting lap. You want to start moving immediately, but something deeper in you tells you to stay put until Ellie gives you anything.

“I could really go for a joint right now, honestly..” she trails off, meeting your gaze. “Fuck off,” you cant help but say— clawing at your own shirt. You pull it off, tossing it messily onto your floor. It makes your stomach twist for a split second, not taking it to the hamper. But that wasn’t exactly top priority. When the air hits your nipples they hardern immediately, drawing Ellie’s attention.

The green eyed girl’s jaw clicks at your insult, and at how you had shoved your shirt off before she could. She was getting there, really. But you were too impatient, like always.

“I'm not getting you off,” she finally decides, clearly speaking. But she still reaches forward to run a thumb over your peaked nipple, making you involuntarily buck into her. The feeling of your center finding friction on her lap pulls a small sound from you. Ellie hums at how responsive you are, “But you can.”

You aren’t quite sure what she means, but hands quickly come to shift you onto only one of her thighs.. and you quickly understand. “You wanna get off baby? Ride my thigh. Get off all on your own.”

Ellie yawns like she couldn’t care less, leaning back and watching you, fingers rubbing circles on your hips.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you whine, unhappy you were not getting your own way. Ellie shrugs again, and you want to wipe the pleased look off of her freckled cheeks. She gives you a head start by dipping her fingers into the elastic of your shorts. “Yea.. im an asshole, im a gross drug dealer, you're so much better than me..” she chastises, watching you lift your hips as she pulls the silky shorts and lace panties down your legs. You let it happen all too easily. “But who’s the one pulling off her pretty little pajamas to get off on my thigh?” she questions.

You can't deny that, definitely not as Ellie stimulates the first rock of your hips down against her mostly bare thigh. The feeling washes over you, eyes rolling back. Any grip you still had over yourself and your control is drowned out by the feeling. It’s embarrassing to admit how wet you are, how wet eating her out had made you. Of course she comments on it, always looking to shame you.

“Fuck, can feel you dripping on me princess— always so wet for me, hm? So much for not mind blowing huh?” She asks, letting her hands still so you can continue the movements on your own.

“El..” you gasp, blinking quickly as one hand rests on her shoulder, getting a better angle to let your hips move against her— whimpering at the wet pressure of yourself against her.

Her eyes catch your own, before dropping to where you are rutting down on her thigh. At first you aren’t sure it will be enough— your sore knees now accompanied by burning muscles. But you know this is your only option. It sure does help when she leans forward though, no longer fighting against her want to press lips against your neck.

The marks from last time were now almost completely gone, much to her dislike. This could have been completely avoided if you hadn’t been such a fucking bitch. If you had just gone to the parties and let her leave you with a fresh set of bruises each time.

“Fuck,” you huff when she bites at your skin meanly. Your movements falter from the rush of pain it brings. “Gonna let me mark you up, aren’t you baby? Make sure everyone knows your mine?”

The word mine sends you for a loop, and you pause slightly on it. Too desperate to get off, you don't comment on it. But it makes your stomach do flips, inable to tell if they are good or bad.

The threat is not an option for you, that was clear enough when she doesn't let up the harsh sucks and teeth marks on your throat. “If you fucking cover these up I will do it over and over again,” Ellie threatens, only making you whine louder. Your arm wraps around her back, pulling her even closer into the crook of your neck. She presses comforting kisses there to soothe the burning pain from all the bites.

“Won't,” you promise quickly, grinding even quicker down into her. Neither of you can be sure if you are just saying it in the heat of the moment.. but it affects you both all the same.

What you ask next is a shock to both of you. “Kiss me, El please kiss me,” you beg. Her face pokes out from your neck, questioning your words only for a second. She doesn’t ask before pressing her lips into yours, kissing you for the first time tonight. You’re quick to respond, following her lead in the quickly deepening kiss.

She swallows every single noise you make, tongue swirling around your mouth when you moan into her. Your hips are moving erratically now, your moans getting even louder against the kiss. Ellie kisses you harder, a bruising and hot kiss— both of you gasping against it.

This is far more intimate than the first time you slept together, the way you refuse to pull back from your lips even as you feel your orgasm rising up and up. She doesn’t allow for any room either, eager to bite at your lip, to let her hand move to knead at your tit. The new sensation overhwlems you, a repeated “fuck fuck fuck,” pressing against the kiss as you are finally sent toppling over into an orgasm. Even as it hits you, even as your hips stutter, you don’t pull back from the kiss.

Not until Ellie does first, her hand moving back to your hip when you slow. She forces you hardly back down against you, and your ears ring. “S-stop,” you whine— suddenly far too overwhelmed. Ellie doesn’t listen, guiding your hips to continue grinding down, even in your over sensitive state. She wants to pull another orgasm out of you, and she states so when you try to pull away.

“Dont fucking move away from me,” she demands. “Want you to come on my thigh again. Know you can take it. Know you want it,” she continued, bordering on slurring out the words. The auburnette seems almost as dizzy from this as you are.

You can feel your eyes sting, pussy throbbing against her thigh as she forced you to keep moving, rising to your peak at a record pace. “I can’t,” you babble, shaking your head quickly.

“Of course you can baby, look at the mess you made on me already,” your eyes follow her directions immediately, finding her thigh sticky with your slick. “So messy, so fucking pathetic. Getting off on my thigh, pathetic enough to come again.”

Tears spring to your eyes, stomach clenching. “Fuck, Ellie— fuck,” you cry out, tilting your head back to gasp. With how loud you are, you better hope none of your sorority sisters will be home early. You have no idea how much time had passed since Ellie walked through your bedroom door, but it felt like a lifetime.

Ellie’s free hand trails up your chest, fingers dancing across your collarbone. You just looked so pretty with your already reddening neck.. she couldn’t help as her palm rested on your throat, fingers wrapping around it experimentally. The loud cry the slightest pressure coaxed out of you pushes Ellie to grip harder.

“Of course you like this,” Ellie scoffs, admiring the way your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open to wheeze. “Jesus, you really are such a slut, crying for me to choke you? All fucked out for me?” Ellie bites— but it falls upon fuzzy ears, your senses all going haywire as you sob, unable to catch your breath. It just all feels so amazing. Her thigh, her hand, the way she spits the words at you. You're coming again before you can even say anything, throbbing against her thigh as you fall forward into her, her hand releasing your neck as you do.

Ellie coos against your ear as you tremble through your aftershocks, calling you every sweet name under the sun. “So good for me, my perfect girl, so perfect.”

You cry into her, hot tears against your own cheeks and her neck. You whine sharply when she lifts you off, leaning down to pull off her sweatshirt. It confused you, blurry eyes quickly wiped by her thumbs. “Lay down,” she commands, and you can only babble incoherent begs for her as she stands and searches around your room, sweating as she throws her sweatshirt into the growing pile of clothes.

It leaves her only in her boxers and sports bra , and you watch on in slight amazement as her abs flex as she bends around looking for something. First she tugs her backpack into your room before you can protest. Then she’s back to searching. When she finally finds something to clean her thigh off with, she brings it back to you, wiping you clean again.

Still deep in your sub space, you grasp at her, and she happily complies climbing into the bed, welcoming as you press against her, searching for skin to skin contact.

You aren’t sure what the morning will bring. Not sure how you will feel when you wake up pressed against the one girl you swore to hate at this whole school. But you don't really care. You listen to her slowly lowering heartbeat as exhaustion pulls you into its arms.

You fall asleep against Ellie, and it’s the best fucking rest you have had in fourteen days.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader

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animeredhead101 · 5 months ago

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Dad Phantom DP x DC Crossover

Completed

Bask in Our Cosmic Insignificance by DisillusionedDanny :

After Lady Gotham sends a lost and alone King Phantom to check on a little boy Danny Fenton finds himself the new guardian "angel" of a six year old boy. Tim Drake. Word Count: 33,632

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself?

Word Count: 24,778

Who's Old Now? by LiraBuswavi :

“Am I your dad!!?” Billy shouted. Danny paused. Took a deep breath in and out before turning to him. “I’m gonna need you to back up, and explain. Please.” Or, what happens when a twelve year old masquerading as an adult superhero calls his guardian, an adult who can also turn into a child superhero, on speaker phone, in front of the Justice League. Word Count: 36,017

Of All the Things My Hands Have Held by DisillusionedDanny :

Upon learning that her son is in a relationship, Talia decides to create a clone to gift to her son as a gift to celebrate finally settling down. Now Damian and Danny are stuck trying to figure out how to raise a baby when neither of them had the best examples growing up.

Word Count: 17,066

Mourning a Young Soul Leads to Shared Custody by Olive_of_Vanders :

Danny was given a choice. Become King or parent a ghost kid. Ghost kid sounded a lot more easier to him. Word Count: 41,929

It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :

Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny. In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there. It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets. They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other.

Word Count: 23,052

On-going

Deadly Assumptions and Their Consequences by Silver_star_06 :

The Justice league believes that Phantom is Captain Marvel‘s dad and tells the hero to summon him to help them with Darkseid. They weren’t expecting the cryptic eldridge being to start hanging around the watch tower. Danny couldn’t help but feel a kinship with the pre-teen that ended up as the current Captain Marvel. A scrappy black haired and blue eyed child vigilante, that only became one because of circumstance. Danny was going to help this child whether he wanted it or not. Word Count: 25,977

My Dad is Dead to Me by GhostInGotham :

John Constantine was fourteen when he set his house on fire. John Constantine was fourteen when he realized his father was still inside. Word Count: 19,573

Phantoms and Foes by Zylev :

Krypton was dying long before it exploded. After a lab accident at 14 gave Danny ice powers, he used them for good to try and stop crime as the first hero of Krypton. But when thousands of years of mining the core of Krypton finally caught up to the planet, General Zod evacuated Krypton to the Phantom Zone before it exploded. Little did Zod know he led the Kryptonians to a slaughter. Years later, Danny is the only Kryptonian left alive when Kal-El finds the Phantom Projector and brings him to Earth. Danny must now adjust to having new powers and life on a planet that is completely different than Krypton and the Phantom Zone. Word Count: 121,723

The Human Prince of Ghosts by AceFace98 :

Danny has been King for a few centuries now, but he's still half-ghost, immortal or not. So every now and again, Clockwork likes to kick him out of the Realms to go play human for a decade or two. It's usually pretty boring. This time, though, he meets a small child with a camera and a lot of pointed questions and immediately has Dad Instincts about it. Word Count: 65,300

Phantom's Progenies by Makuro767 :

progeny /ˈprɒdʒɪni/ noun plural noun: progenies a descendant or the descendants of a person, animal, or plant; offspring. A drabble collections of Danny Phantom as the father to several kids that are both his and clones of him from several different realities. Fluff with doses of trauma. ~ If you think you can write a full story from each drabble, be my guest. Word Count: 79,111 This is a HUGE multi-crossover fic FYI

#danny phantom #ao3 fanfic #crossover fanfiction #danny fenton #dc universe #dp x dc crossover #batman

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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the road ahead l preview (j. miller series)

a/n📝 in honor of hitting 4k followers this weekend, I decided to post a little glimpse at what I have been brainstorming: a full length series for the to do the right thing universe. I have been toying around with this idea for a while now and to be honest, I am really terrified taking on such a big challenge and writing this story, but also kind of excited too? part of me feels like I’m going to be in waaaay over my head but oh well lmao.

the first chapter is still a draft, but this scene is complete. what do we think? should i do it? please let me know your thoughts!

“Frank?” You knelt in front of his wheelchair and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“We need you to take Gracie with you,” Frank told you, softly. His blue eyes had gone red, brimming with tears that he was trying his absolute hardest to hold back. Behind him, Bill stood there with his hand on his partner’s shoulder and you could have sworn that he was fighting back tears too.

“What?” You and Joel hissed out in unison. While you couldn’t see him, you could imagine the look of shock on his face mirrored yours as well.

“We need you to take her with you,” he repeated.

You stared up at Frank, your eyes wide in pure and utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever this illness is, it’s progressing fast, way too fast. Look at me. The last time you were here, I could still walk. That was what, just a few months ago?” Frank let out a small and humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting worse with every day that passes. I can’t do anything for myself, let alone for Gracie. I’m in the most excruciating and unbearable pain and the reality is that I don’t have all that much time left.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before saying, “If I’m going to die, then I’m going to die in peace, not in agony.”

Your heart sank deeply, realizing what he’d meant by that.

“What about Bill?”

Joel’s gruff voice came from behind you, strained and tight.

“He can’t raise her alone. And besides, he’s made his choice to go with me.” Frank put his hand over his beloved partner’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder.

You glanced over your shoulder back at Joel, who just stood there, the color drained from his face.

“How could we put her through that?” You asked, your voice thick with emotion as you turned back to look at Frank. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it will be for her to go with us?”

“She’s right. We’re goin’ across the fuckin’ country to get Ellie where she needs to be,” Joel reminded them. “We don’t know what kinda shit is out there or what we’re goin’ to run into. So how the fuck do you two expect us to take along a fuckin’ child?”

“Ellie’s a child,” Bill pointed out to him.

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen, not three—”

Frank held up a hand to stop him.

Finally, a tear slid down the side of his face. “Look, this isn’t a choice that we want to make, Joel. But let’s face it. I’m sick and Bill is old. Gracie will wind up alone.” He swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know you just wanted her to be safe, and sure, maybe she was safer with us here than in the zone for a while, but I don’t think that we thought this all the way through. I don’t think we looked far enough into the future. At some point, Gracie was going to lose us both.”

You turned and looked into the living room where Gracie was showing Ellie her favorite teddy bear.

“What’s his name?” Ellie had asked her.

“Teddy.”

She snorted, ruffling her hair. “Real original, kid.”

Gracie giggled, playfully swatting her hand away.

“I know she loses either way.” Frank’s hoarse voice garnered your attention once again. “I know it’s an incredibly dangerous risk, taking her with you. But it’s either that or she winds up alone.”

“We took care of her for as long as we could,” Bill said, quietly. “Now it’s your turn.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #pedro pascal characters #;tdtrt #;tra

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camillesblogsposts · 2 years ago

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Say yes to me- four (1/2)

Half a chapter!! Sorry if this is annoying but just wanted to do it this way lol. Second part out tomorrow! Hope you enjoy babas!! @blairfox04 @lostcasefile @kyleeservopoulos @cursedpixie @ellieinmybed @intrnetdoll @frasersgf @alanahendrix @experiencebeinanamericanwh0re @ariianelle @nil-eena @spidersammy @starhrtz

Cat sort of stood there in the doorway for a moment, she looked stunned, not really knowing what to do. There was no average explanation for why Ellie was kneeled on the floor before you looking at you so gently. Her gaze was so soft, all she could see was you. Cat almost thought it was some sort of paranoia induced delusion. When the two of you noticed her there you froze up, clasping your hands together protectively. Ellie didn’t look away from your face, she looked dazed.

“What’s going on?” Cat asked, breaking the silence. Ellie stood a little stiffly, flushed. “Why do you need to know?” She grumbled, her hand raising to her neck. She had a tendency to do that when she felt awkward. “I tripped over, Ellie was checking if my ankle was okay.” You didn’t know why you said this, the words sort of just leaving your mouth. Subconsciously, you didn’t want to hurt Cat’s feelings. Ellie glanced back at you and she looked a little upset, you didn’t understand why. Her face was all scrunched up again, she left the room without another word. Cat stayed there at your doorframe waiting until Ellie was out of ear shot.

“Are you telling me the truth?” She asked, arms crossed over her chest.

You nodded. Cat didn’t respond, turning to follow after Ellie. You got into bed and tried to fall asleep.

You didn’t know how long you had been asleep when you were woken up, hearing your name being whispered beside you. It was Ellie, you knew before you opened your eyes. The room was dark now, only the moonlight streaming in through your sheer curtains. It illuminated her face in soft lighting. She looked gentle, once again knelt down to be at your level.

“Hi.” You whispered, pulling up the blankets to cover your face. Everything had happened so so fast: what if Ellie was here now to tell you she wasn’t attracted to you, that she hated you. She reached out and pulled down your blanket so that she could see your eyes, you went flaccid, letting her. Just looking up at her with big puppy eyes.

“Just… wanted to be able to talk to you, before I go home.” She whispered back, voice rough. She sounded sleepy. You wanted to invite her into your bed and hold her. You nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“Um, about what you said.”

“Which part?” Your voice was quiet and uncertain. You were so nervous. Despite imagining this happening to you every day since you were fourteen you still weren’t prepared for it.

“Bout’ being like the girls.. the girls in the book.” She looked away, Ellie was embarrassed. You wanted to kiss her so badly.

“Yeah?”

“You can um, come over to mine tomorrow after patrols.” She coughed before saying this, wanting her voice to be clear. You felt your face flush. Slowly, you nodded.

“I’m gonna need to hear some verbal confirmation on that.” She said sarcastically, standing up. You thought about how helpless you are against her, how tall and strong she looked when you were laid beneath her. Your heart was humming.

“Y-yes please, if that’s okay.”

Ellie smirked. She paused for a moment. “Y’know, I’ve always thought that sweet little thing was an act but you’re just… like that.” She was teasing but something about the way she said it told you that she was being honest. That upset you a little, feeling sorrowful for your past self, all of the times Ellie had pushed you away.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is make you happier.” You had wanted it to sound assertive but it came out as a sort of sleepy whine, your eyes all blurry. Ellie laughed a little under her breath. “It makes me happy to see you… safe.” You didn’t know what she meant by that but you nodded nonetheless. It made you feel warm inside. You didn’t know that Ellie had such complex thoughts towards you.

“Im gonna go, Cat will be looking for me.” She smiled a little before turning to leave. You sat up, “Are you sleeping with her?” You asked quickly, desperate to know. Ellie’s mouth fell open slightly, confused. “Uh.. no? Not since we were together.” She seemed a little offended at the question. You felt immediate relief and then a little wounded, why would Cat have lied to you about that? You nodded to Ellie, smiling again. You didn’t want her to remember that as the last thing you spoke about.

“G’night Ells, have the nicest dreams ever.” You yawned mid sentence, rubbing your eyes before lying back down to go to sleep. Ellie left your house feeling rejuvenated. You were so close to her. She’d been so close to you. If she had tried to kiss you, you would’ve let her. She could see that now. She cursed herself for all the wasted time.

The next day you had an increasing anxiety in your tummy. You were going to Ellie’s house after patrols. You were so so so nervous. What if she turned you away at the door? What if she’d just invited you over for a movie and you were completely misunderstanding her? What if she didn’t actually like you, she just wanted to fuck you?

You tidied the house and cleaned, Cat never really contributing. You didn’t mind it. You pretended you were Ellie’s housewife. You made cookies to take to her house once she got home from patrols. You opened your stall in the market at 12, selling some body washes and soaps and cleaning supplies. Your days were slow but comfortable.

When it was time to get ready to go to Ellie’s you wore something comfy, baggy pants and a oversized jumper. You didn’t want her to think you were trying hard. You took the cookies in a little bag, your hair in two plaits. You had a little bit of your homemade berry stain on your cheeks and lips, lavender water as a perfume. You were so so so excited. You tried to remember everything Dina had told you about sleeping with girls, imagining how it would happen between you and Ellie. You’d do anything she asked. Anything, anything.

She greeted you at her door, looking around in a way to see if anybody had noticed you there. They hadn’t. She was dirty from patrols, dried blood and mud stuck to her skin and clothes. It was oddly attractive. She laid her hand on your back and pulled you inside, closing the door behind you. The two of you stood in her living room for a moment in silence, just observing each other. The air in the room was so thick.

“Hi.” You giggled, unable to stop your laugh from the anxiety that was coming from the both of you. Ellie smiled down at you, nervous and affectionate, “Hey.”

“I’m gonna have a shower, kay? Just keep yourself entertained.” She smirked, her hand hesitantly laying on the top of your head for a moment before she left to the bathroom. You sat on her couch, flicking through the films to put onto her tv.

You could hear the shower running, your blood running cold. You imagined what it would look like if you were in the bathroom; Ellie’s body. Toned and sweaty and blood stained. She was so lean and muscular, she was so beautiful. You felt yourself getting wet.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #tlou x reader #elliewilliams #tlou #tlou ellie #say yes to me

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chasedbyatlantic · 10 months ago

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highway to hell, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — ellie drives a car for the first time with you and joel attempting to teach her, but it doesn't go as you had imagined.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, pre jackson!era joel, female!reader, implied relationship, protective joel, secretive-ish joel, ellie being a fucking comedian as per usual, stripping, swearing. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: this is genuinely so funny to me. i can SO see ellie doing all of this HAHA. plz request ideas for fics i am out of them!!!! also if u want me to write for any other characters. remember to like, comment, reblog, and follow for updates! xoxo

—

It was no earlier than eight in the evening. The sun was just below the horizon (it was late autumn), and the breeze had started to pick up. You, Joel, and Ellie had been up since before the sunrise this morning, continuing your journey down to Wyoming. Right now, you were in the outskirts of the Illinois countryside, in some small town that was in a time capsule from decades ago.

Before the outbreak, you had worked with Joel (and his brother Tommy) in their contracting business, as a secretary (well, secretary-in-training). You decided to stick with him during his travels after the apocalypse had commenced, despite his bitching and complaining about you being there. Though, the complaining only happened for a short while, he learned to appreciate you and enjoy your company, you were one of the few people he had cared about in this horrible world.

It had only been a few months ago since you had met Ellie for the first time. You didn't like her at the start, to say the least - she was an 'annoying little shit', like Joel would say. All Ellie did all day was nag and pester both you and Joel, but she, as well as the two of you, learned to interact peacefully with one and other. Now, all three of you were inseparable. You sure as hell didn't mind this, but Joel didn't want Ellie (or you, for that matter) near him when he would get himself in shit. Oh well, you can't have everything you want.

Ellie was talking to the two of you about something she had probably learned from all the books she had read at the Boston QZ. To be honest, Ellie had taught you lots of things. Not any survival things, far from that, but brainy things that you would have probably needed if you actually ever lived a normal adult life - paying the government, how much you should ideally spend on groceries, etc.

You weren't paying attention to the girl beside you, tuning her out completely. You were far too tired to be in any more conversation than you had to be in right now, and you just really couldn't give a shit about the percentage rate of silverback gorillas being born in American zoos in the late nineties compared to the early eighties. As Ellie was talking, you had spotted a nice little home of sorts, one that the three of you could spend the night in.

"Hey," You had interupted the other two who were in small conversation, "we can spend the night there." A nod was sent from you to the direction of the small home. The other two went silent, Joel had sped up a tad bit, now in front of you and leading the way. "Wait out here, lemme check't out." With that, he was off inside.

Ellie turned to you, breaking the silence. "When're you gonna teach me how to drive, princess?" That was the nickname she gave you, princess. According to her, it was because everyone had always treated you like royalty. You thought different, but it was whatever. "How old're ya'? Twelve? Not yet, missy." This had earned a gasp from Ellie, like she had just seen a ghost. "Fourteen, actually! More adult than yo-"

She had gotten interrupted by Joel stepping out of the small home, "It's clear, y'all're safe t'come in." He did his little head motion, signalling you guys to come in. You began to walk, and Ellie was on your heel. You brought your hand around her shoulder, roughing up her hair. "Soon, promise."

When you two had entered the tiny abode, it reeked of old. You weren't sure if it was the contained moisture, or nobody cleaning the place in twenty years, but it smelled old. "Fucking Christ! Someone open a window!" was exclaimed from Ellie as she moved out from your grip, and plugging her nose. You and Joel had eyed one another, before you moved to the two windows (one each) and hoisted them open. An immediate relief was sent through the room, with a nice breeze of wind following suit.

"So much better." Ellie groaned, now moving over to the couch in the middle of the room. The house was not big at all, there were a total of three rooms. The living space, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The bathroom was totally out of commission, so that meant only two rooms. "Ya' can have the bedroom," Joel had said to Ellie, "We'll take the livin' room."

"Sleep with a fucking pillow divider, please. I am not babysitting any kids in the near future." This had earned a stern look from Joel, and a wack from you. "Bed, now." You told her after she yelped from the hit across her shoulder. "Jesus! Let me go piss, and then I'll go!" You tsked as Ellie quickly and efficiently moved out the front door, to go and do whatever she needed to do.

"Un-fucking-believable." You had only managed to get out, before sitting down on the couch. Joel had let out a small sigh as he removed his gun that was slung over his shoulder. "Kid's got'ta mouth." He sat down beside you, arm now draping around your shoulder. "I fucking know! How does she even- even know what that shit means? Swear ta' god, I was her age'n playin' with barbies."

After not replying to this, knowing it was just going to keep setting you off, he began to unbutton his shirt. You had glanced down, taking the hint Joel was giving to you. You had tugged at the hem of your jeans, sliding them off. This wasn't for sex, not tonight. You two had known each other for years, and you trusted each other with your lives, so you were both able to get undressed in front of each other without a caring what the other would think.

After Joel was just in his jeans, and you were just in your shirt and underwear, you two had melted into the couch. The couch was the cleanest part of the entire room, which was a huge plus- though, even if it wasn't, you would still have a great sleep on it shortly. Joel had his arm wrapped around you once again, and you were pulled into his bare chest. He hated PDA, so it was perfect when the two of you were just alone- even though Ellie knew something was up between the two of you.

"Can we take the day off tomorrow?" Your voice wasn't loud, just barely loud enough for him to hear. You ear was pressed against his chest, head rising everytime he inhaled and exhaled. "'M sorry, ya' know we can't." After Joel had said this, an audible exhale was heard through the room. Joel's thumb started to rub up and down your shoulder, his hand staying in place. "Don'tcha worry, baby. Only a bit longer, then we'll get time, 'kay?"

Before you had time to respond, you heard a booming sound coming from a bit away. It was an engine. You shot up, causing Joel's arm to fall off of you. He had grunted as he sat up, his brain running a thousand miles per minute right now. Then, you two both had a moment of realization. "Ellie."

It felt like an eternity for the both of you before you had your clothes back on, when in reality it only took about fifteen seconds. "We shouldn't have fuckin' let her go out there." Joel had stated as he grabbed his gun and quickly made his way to the door. You were on his heel as Ellie was to you earlier, praying nothing had happened to her. If something did, you would never forgive yourself- and Joel sure as hell wouldn't forgive you either, despite it not being any of your fault.

The door had burst open as the two of you emerged from it, eyes scanning everywhere all at once, looking for the small brunette. As you did this, you could see some sort of headlights approaching quickly. You had grabbed Joel's arm and pulled him down with you. By the speed the car was approaching at, they wouldn't see you at all if you were on the ground. Joel had his gun aimed towards the approaching vehicle (the only reason he hadn't taken a shot was because he couldn't get a clear one, due to how fas the car was going).

Before you could even process it, the car was stopped in front of where you and Joel were, and the window had rolled down. A honk or two was set out, very loudly. You still weren't able to process what was happening, neither did Joel. Finally, after a moment or two, you snapped back (harshly) into reality). "Is that-"

"Get in fuckers, we're going on a road trip!" The familiar brunette you two were so scared you had lost was, in fact, sitting in the front seat of this random pickup truck, the biggest fucking grin on her face. You were on your feet just after Joel was on his, he looked like he was about to kill someone. "Get out'ta the fuckin' car, Ellie." He had slung his rifle back over his shoulder once he knew that she wasn't some sort of raider.

"No can do, Joel-ly boy. I already got yours and the princess's bags in the back. Hop in, I need to show you this cool fuckin' shit I found!" You had only turned to look at Joel, his view still at the young girl. He was thinking to himself. First of all, how the fuck did Ellie find the keys for the corresponding car, and how the fuck was she able to drive it without any previous experience or help? He was dumbfounded at the moment.

All you could do was grab Joel's arm and lead him to the car, Ellie was refusing to get out and well- you promised to teach her how to drive. God, he was going to kill you later. "I told her I'd uh- you know, teach her." You had audibly gulped, your eyes not meeting Joel's. He was silent, the only thing heard was some Brittany Spears song Ellie had playing.

Once your eyes had met his for a split second, he gave a 'fine, but we're having a long talk about this later' look to you. You opened the door for him like the nice person you were, and he hesitantly got in. You were so nervous right now, you felt like you had broken Joel's trust by doing this. But hey, if for some reason Ellie is on her own in the future, she needs to know how to drive a car.

You made your way to the other side and got in the passenger seat. Joel was sitting in the middle seat of the second row, his hands resting on the shoulder of the seats in front. Once the door was shut, you most definitely did your seat belt up. You had turned your head to eye Ellie, as she just grinned at you. "First rule, always wear your fuckin' seatbelt."

You could tell her heart fell by this, "Right- my bad." She quickly pulled the piece of material over her chest and into the lock. "Alright, now-" She had reached over you, and to the compartment in front. "I found some killer albums. Ones that our Joel-ly boy would love. I'm playing them so the mood isn't totally fucked."

You shook your head, eyeing Joel through the rearview mirror. He met the gaze, looking absolutely annoyed. Though, he was silent and just watching what the two of you were doing. Ellie had finished fumbling with the tapes, and removed the one that was playing. She put the new one into the radio system, and tossed the recently-played one into the compartment. The play button was hit.

"Okay, uh- where do I start? I guess now we talk about the gears? Basically, you'll take the shift and-" Your heart had dropped as you were suddenly cut off by the engine roaring, and now going about eighty miles an hour. For some fucking reason, Ellie was laughing. You and Joel were sure as hell not laughing, as a matter of a fact, Joel was screaming with you.

Some 'oh my fucking god!'s and some 'stop!'s were heard through the music, that was now blaring through the car's speakers. Taking a fraction of a second to listen into the music, you had figured out it was Highway to Hell by AC/DC, an old rock band that was popular when Joel was growing up. How fucking fitting for these circumstances.

Joel's hand, from the back seat, had found your shoulder as he held you to the back of your seat. He didn't have his seatbelt on, but he didn't care. He had to make sure you wouldn't go fucking flying through the front windshield if Ellie came to a halting stop. "Stop the fuckin' car! Slowly- off the gas! Jesus Christ!" He was screaming from the back.

Sure, adrenaline was an exhilarating feeling every once in a while, but going eighty miles an hour in a car from someone with zero driving experience? Not exhilarating one bit. Though, Ellie would beg to differ. She was draining out the screams and panicked tones coming from both you and Joel, and was just having a great time.

After another minute or two of screaming and pleading for the girl to stop, the song came to an end- and so did her manic driving. "Ellie-" You were panting, like you had just ran a marathon. In reality, you were panting because you had just held your breath from the exact time the engine accelerated, until now. "-Ellie, pull the fucking car over. Please god." You were in no means religious, but right now you felt like you needed to go to church and pray.

Ellie didn't really know how to pull over properly, so she just- swerved off the road and pushed the car's "off" button. Joel's hand had fell from your shoulder, and he brought both to his face. He covered his face by his hands for a moment, and Ellie smiled to herself. She felt accomplished by this, even though she almost fucking killed everyone (including herself).

After a moment of silence, Joel had made a sound. It sounded like he was crying. Both you and Ellie, in unity, had turned to him in the backseat. It was so muffled that you did think Joel was crying. You immediately brought your hand to his knee, your heart still racing from what had just happened.

It was only after you did this that you realized he was in fact not crying, but had bursted out with laughter. Joel fucking Miller, the most serious man on the planet, was laughing after he almost just died. You had removed your hand from his knee and turned back forward, shaking your head and crossing your arms. "This isn't funny, Joel!"

Ellie turned back after you, glancing in your direction. She couldn't help but burst out with laughter too. Not at you, but at everything (it also didn't help that she, along with you two, were exhausted). Your gaze went from forward, to the left of you, to Ellie. You could only shake your head, disappointed.

But, if you were disappointed, why had you started to laugh as well? This situation sure as hell wasn't funny, to you at least. "I hate you guys." You managed to get out between your laughter fits. Even if you were setting a bad example right now, you couldn't help it. Everyone's laugh was so contagious, despite the current situation.

Moments like this, you would remember forever. You would remember this as the time your psycho kid almost killed you while driving for the first time, and all three of you bursting out with laughter afterward. Even though the world had ended, you couldn't help but enjoy the small moments like this, where you almost died (but didn't), just being surrounded by the people you had loved more than anything. You had learned so much from moments like this, like not to let a fucking fourteen your old girl drive a car without proper lessons, or that Joel Miller was in fact not made out of stone, and he was able to laugh alongside the rest of you.

Even though the world you used to know was gone, you were happy that, whenever it came, you would get to spend your last minutes surrounded by the people you loved most. Joel and Ellie.

—

highway to hell, ac/dc

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somethingthing · 2 years ago

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Bitter Old Man

Joel Miller x reader

Warnings: a few curse words and angst (arguing), fluff towards the end

Word count: 1057

A/n: That’s it, I’m officially writing Joel fics, I absolutely love the show and can’t wait for more episodes. That’s right, I CAN’T wait, so I’m watching the gameplays, a certain someone just got their head smashed in :’)

Joel had been hesitant to smuggle Ellie out, so had you, but if you didn't take her, someone else would.

You were held up in one of the decaying buildings, it looked like an old shop. A few items were scattered on the floor, but other than that it was empty and secure. Joel had insisted on triple checking.

“At lest she falls asleep fast” you looked down at the girl sleeping on the floor beside you, using her backpack as a pillow.

“It´s not too late to turn back” Joels gaze was focused on her “We turn back now, dump her off and let someone else take her to where she needs to be” he switched his gaze to you.

“No we can´t” you understood why he wanted to, his brother came first and with Ellie that mission became compromised. He gave you a questioning look, not understanding why not “Joel, she´s a fourteen year old girl being handed form person to person, besides, if she truly can help end this as she says, I´m not sure I trust anyone else with her”

“She is still not our problem, we should be finding Tommy and then be done with it” he sounded almost angry, getting out a stressed whisper “A cure? Bullshit, she made that up just to stay alive a while longer”

You looked at him disbelief “What is your problem?” you quickly looked to Ellie to see that she was still sleeping “Are you really so bitter that you´ve lost all hope and is gonna blame a little girl for your problems?”

Letting out a deep sigh and dragging his hand over his face, he got up from the floor across from you “I ain´t blaming her, I´m saying that I have more important things to do with my time than looking after a helpless brat!” the frustration was clear in his voice even if he tried to keep it down.

You got up as well, careful not to wake Ellie. You moved away from her, still keeping her in sight but enough distance to not wake her with your voices “Okey let me ask you this, if we don´t help her, who will?” he opened his mouth to answer but you stopped him “And don´t give me that ´not my problem´ crap”

He closed it again for a second, but opened it again “Three weeks” he stepped closer and lowered his voice “You really believe that she's been bitten for three fucking weeks? She´s a ticking bomb!” he wasn't wrong, no matter how long she had fought off the infection, you had no idea how long her body would be able to keep it up.

“Then lets get her to The Capitol building as fast as we can” you were sick of his arguing, turning around and starting the move back to Ellie.

“What then? For all we know Marlene could be dead and we´ll never get our payment” he reached out and caught your arm, forcing you to stay “I get that she's gotten your hopes up about a cure, but come on, you´re not that stupid”

You turned you head back to him “If you wanna be a bitter old man, then fine, be that, but leave me the fuck out of it!” now it was your turn to sound angry “And besides, I´m not leaving her out in this world all alone, would you ever have left Sarah?” the moment her name left you lips you wanted to take it back.

He yanked your arm which he still had a hold of “Watch it” his voice was dangerously low and his face dangerously close to yours “She´s off limits, got it?” it wasn't a question, more of a warning about a line he dared you to cross.

You stayed quiet for a moment, cursing yourself for bringing her up “Joel, I´m sorry, that wasn't fair, I didn´t...”

“Mean it? Yes you did” he let go of your arm “Get some rest, we move out in a few hours” and with that the conversation was over.

You didn't get any rest, but twisted and turned instead. As soon as you all were packed up again, you headed out. Ellie must have noticed something was off, after a few attempts to lighten the mood she kept quiet.

You made a quick stop, searching one of the old buildings for supplies “Listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have brought her up” you watched how Joel searched through a cabinet.

“Where´s Ellie?” he didn´t turn around, but kept looking through the drawers.

“She´s in the other room” you moved closer “Joel could you just please look at me?” reaching out you put your hand on his shoulder. He stood up straight, looking you in the eyes.

Without saying anything you hugged him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing gently. At first he didn´t move, but then you felt him return it, slowly “I know you´re sorry, I just...” he paused, thinking of his next words “I just haven´t heard someone say her name in awhile”

You drew away enough to look at him “I know” you didn´t know what else to say, letting you gaze study his face. The memory from the night before, of his face being this close to yours fluttered in your mind. Without thinking you reached out and let your lips meet his, it was fast and thoughtless.

You made yourself ready to apologize, drawing away from him, but he stopped you with a hand on your waist. He drew you in, deepening the kiss you had started “Don’t you dare apologize” he breathed out.

Before you could respond, Ellie stepped in to the room “I knew it! I knew something was going on with you two!” she looked at you proudly as you drew away from Joel, then she gave you a suspicious look “Wait did the two of you… EW I knew I heard voices last night, gross!” She spited out making a disgusted face.

“Okey kid, that´s enough” Joel shook his head and gave her a tired look, but you could see the twitch at the corner of his mouth “Let´s get a move on, we ain´t got all day”

“I can’t believe it” she stated and turned around, exiting the room again “I was in the same room, yuck” you heard her mumble to herself.

You looked at each other, laughing quietly to yourself. Nothing more had to be said, at least she hadn’t heard your argument and that was the important part. That, and what had just happened between you, if you we’re going on this suicide mission you would at least do it together.

———————————

Thank you for reading <33 I’m gonna go and cry in a corner about Joel now

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us ellie #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us joel #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you

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elliesbelle · 1 year ago

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 7

pairing: ellie x reader

content warnings: modern college au, dealer!ellie, LOSER!ELLIE, cursing, ANGST, use of marijuana and alcohol, brief mention of death, descriptions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), sexual speech and content, brief mention of violence, brief description of homophobia, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 3.5k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

“Ellie, seriously, calm down. Also, can you hand me the fucking joint already?”

Dina watches as Ellie paces back and forth across the living room of the apartment Ellie shared with Jesse. She’d come back early from her Electrical Engineering Design class after silently storming out a mere 15 minutes into the lecture. She had her Particle Physics class in less than an hour, but she had very little intention of attending.

She’d even bailed on making a quick stop at Ruston Coffee in order to reclaim the jacket she’d lent to Daniela. She had four unread texts from her, but she ignored them.

“Dude, I just—” Ellie starts.

“I know,” Dina replies. “But can you blame her?”

Ellie doesn’t reply, instead angrily groaning as she plops down next to Dina on the couch. She hands Dina the joint, which was already half-burnt.

“God, at least ash it first,” Dina complains, taking it from her and flicking the dusty remains into an ashtray on the coffee table. “Anyway, what the fuck is she supposed to do? Not move on from you?”

“No, but—”

“You’re only this mad because Abby Anderson’s the one she was seeing before you,” Dina says before taking a hit of the joint. “I mean, you’d still be irritated if it was someone else. But now, your ego is a little bruised.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Ellie scoffs. “And she and I weren’t seeing each other, we—”

“It’s been two fucking years. You need to stop saying that shit.” Dina interrupts, getting exasperated.

“We literally weren’t—”

“Who the fuck cares, Ellie?”

“D—” Ellie attempts, but Dina continues.

“She was in love with you, and you were so fucking in love with her. And don’t try to pull that shit with me, saying that you weren’t in love with her.” Dina adds, seeing that Ellie was about to interrupt once more. “Everyone saw it, and everyone knew it. Fuck, even Joel saw it, and it’s Joel.”

Ellie says nothing, choosing to stare intensely at her fists. They were turning white from how hard she was clenching them in agitation.

It had been so long since she’d seen your smile, the honest and genuine kind that you used to flash at her countless times. She hadn’t seen it since before your cousin Rafael passed away. The way it’d adorned your face so naturally just now, it broke something in her today the moment she glanced your way. Something that she’d hastily patched up after you cut her off completely. And for Abby Anderson to be the reason for that smile…

Dina purposely blowing smoke in Ellie’s face wakes her up from her reverie.

“The fuck, D…” Ellie complains, coughing and fanning a hand in her face to clear the smoke.

“Jesse and I love you very much,” Dina continues, ignoring her curses. “But to be honest, we’ve kind of been pissed with you for a while now.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot up to frown at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dina sighs.

“We love her a lot too, you know. And we miss her. The past year, she’s pulled away from us because of you. And we would have pushed, but she asked us not to. She asked us not to choose and to just keep being friends with you like normal.”

“I—“ Ellie stutters. “I didn’t know that.”

“Because she told us not to tell you.” Dina sighs. “Even after you hurt her, she still thought about you. She knew how much we mean to each other, and she didn’t want to get in the way of that. And that’s why she hasn’t told either me or Jesse what happened between you two when you took her home at the end of that summer.”

Ellie puts her head in her hands, recalling that drive. That day rattled in her mind constantly over the past year or so. She’d tried consistently to repress it at first, but it was all cemented in her mind: your nervous twitching and fidgeting, the way your lips trembled when you spoke, the redness of your eyes as you fought not to cry. Eventually, she gave up trying to forget it all; deep down, she knew she deserved to live with the guilt.

“Fuck.” Ellie sighs.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a few moments as Dina finished the rest of the joint, eventually putting it out on the ashtray.

“So,” Dina finally speaks. “You gonna tell me what made her break up with you?”

Ellie sighs.

“I don’t think you really wanna know, D.” She mutters.

“You know,” Dina says. “It’s not really fair that you’ve had me and Jesse update you nonstop the past year on what’s been going on with her, but then you won’t tell either of us what went down.”

“It’s just…” Ellie continues, thinking. “I know you both think I was real shitty for what I did to her. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t think that. But I don’t want you both to think that I’m a complete and total asshole.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are a complete and total asshole.” Dina shrugs.

“Oh, you dick.” Ellie says, smacking Dina’s arm a little too hard.

“Ow!” Dina complains, rubbing the spot where Ellie hit her. “We don’t all go to the gym religiously, you know. Some of us are delicate!”

“Pussy.” Ellie chuckles.

Dina rolls her eyes before getting up from the couch.

“Anyway, get your shit together, Williams. I gotta go.” She says. “Got class in about 20 minutes.”

“Skip it.”

“No. Go to your next class, Els.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Ellie says dismissively, brushing her off.

Dina said her goodbyes and waved before leaving the apartment, locking the door behind her.

Ellie sat with her thoughts for a moment before getting up to walk to the kitchen. She grabs a mug from the cabinets, one decorated with a red-winged blackbird on one side and a sandhill crane on the other. After she nearly fills it to the brim with whiskey, she begins drinking it impatiently as she makes her way into her bedroom.

She places her now half-empty mug on her bedside table before plopping down onto her bed. Not bothering to remove her dirty Converse, she stares up at the prickly, white ceiling.

Abby Anderson? Why her?

Her tattooed arm was positioned above her forehead while the other laid on her side, her old, trusty switchblade suddenly in her hand. She starts playing with it mindlessly as thoughts of you swim inside her head.

When the fuck did she start seeing her again? She didn’t even like Anderson that much…

Ellie’s mind was a battlefield. She begins recalling memories of you when you’d talk about Abby Anderson, trying to discern the level of attraction you had for her from the bashful looks on your face and the dreaminess in your voice. At the same time, she was trying to push away her own emotion from those memories: the forced smile she’d give you when you brought Anderson up, the way she bit her tongue from unleashing nasty, sarcastic retorts about her, the seething rage she felt as she stormed away from you the first night she dropped you off at Anderson’s dorm.

She didn’t even… She only slept with her once…

Ellie thinks about that evening, when she watched you getting ready. She tried desperately to shut out the images of your tender eyes begging for her approval, your messy hair cascading down as you’d taken it out of its bun, every curve of your body that she was allowed a glimpse of when she’d helped you dress, your lips…

Anderson was just some fucking hook-up, I know she was…

Ellie remembers miserably how she waited until you’d completely turned away to watch how mesmerizing you looked as you ascended the steps to Anderson’s dorm. Ellie remembers the disappointed look you had on your face, crest-fallen that she’d kept you at arms-length the rest of the evening. She remembers wanting desperately to call out your name, stop you from walking through the door, and claim you for herself. She remembers nearly doing so, but her courage had not moved swiftly enough.

I fucked her hundreds more times… There’s no way Anderson is pleasing her like I did… I’m the one who knows how to…

Ellie begins speculating on what you’ve been doing hanging around Anderson again. There’s no way that you were just friends. She sees the way Anderson swaggers when they occupy the gym together, her flirty smirk as she greets people as she walks down hallways. Ellie recognizes another lesbian player when she sees one, and she knew for a fact how popular Anderson was with other girls. And more than anything, Ellie knows how beautiful you are. She knows that anyone within five feet of you would be delusional not to want a chance.

Anderson’s not her type… Anderson is not her fucking type… What the hell is she doing? She can do a whole lot fucking better…

Ellie’s thoughts unravel as she wonders about what Anderson was saying that was making you laugh so much. She obsesses over the way you were touching her arm, how your fingers brushed over her muscled bicep. She torments herself about what you were letting her do to you at this very moment.

I just… I just fucking saw her a couple of days ago… She’s single, she looked fucking single…

Were you spending the night at her place this evening? Were you all dolled up today just to see her? Is Anderson taking you out on a date tonight or is she bringing you straight to her bedroom? Has she touched you already today? Has she kissed those cherry-flavoured lips of yours once more yet? Is she lifting your dress over your head or are you doing it for her? Is she kissing your neck as her fingers make their way down into your underwear to—

Ellie sits up all of a sudden, yelling in frustration and hurling her switchblade across the room. She breathes heavily as she stares at her knife now fastened securely into the drywall, halfway stuck resulting from a throw a little too vigorous.

“Fuck me.” Ellie huffs, disgruntled, not by the damaged wall, but by the jealousy smoldering within her.

Why?

Ellie picks up her half-empty mug of booze and chugs it. As droplets of whiskey dribble down her chin, she glances at the painted birds on her now-empty mug.

Joel had bought it during a trip to a thrift store when she was 14 after she’d begged him to get it for her. Every time before the school year started, she’d always be sure to pack it to take with her, a piece of home. It was her favourite mug and it reminded her of her father.

She missed him. She wished she was back home in Jackson with him right now, away from these problems. Life felt so much more simple when it was just her and Joel, just the two of them against the rest of the world. But she was no longer 14 and no longer an innocent.

Ellie sighs. She deliberates for a moment or two. Maybe she could call Joel, tell him what was going on. He knew her best, besides Dina and Jesse. He usually steered her in the right direction, whether it was in a way she initially agreed with or not.

In the end, Ellie decides against it. Explaining lesbianism to a well-meaning but clueless 60-something-year-old man was hard enough. Having to illustrate the current state of her love life? Ellie didn’t have the time or patience to describe to her father how lesbian situationships worked, much less what a “situationship” was. She’d give him a brain aneurysm within thirty seconds of her explanation.

She also thinks back to the last conversation she had with Joel about you. He’d given her yet another caring but stern lecture before she headed back to campus for this school year. She knows deep down exactly how her father felt about you. Is that what she wanted to hear right now?

Ellie lets herself fall back onto the bed, pulling her phone out of her pocket once her head hit her pillow. She swipes away yet another text from Daniela without bothering to skim it and opens up Instagram. Almost instinctively, she switches over from her main account to a separate one.

For the first three months after you and Ellie fell out, you had her number and all her socials blocked. She hadn’t exactly tried to reach out to you during that time, but she hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to lurk. She’d treated it like she was defusing a bomb: she’d delicately open up social media, hastily type in your name, only to be abruptly greeted with blank screens. She wasn’t surprised. But whether out of pure curiosity or masochism, she’d continued this routine of searching your username on different platforms just to stare at nothing for a couple of minutes.

Ellie wasn’t sure what had suddenly prompted you to one day unblock her from everything. For a while, she waited to see if this meant anything, if you were going to reach out to her in some kind of way. But after a few days of nothing, she accepted the continued, albeit unblocked, silence. She wasn’t naive; she never expected you to come back to her. At least she could still snoop in peace.

Though not exactly adept with social media, Ellie wasn’t stupid. When she wanted to look at your Instagram page, she did so through a fake, secret account that she’d made solely for that purpose. It felt pitiful to do so, at least at first. But she’d known you had no intention of speaking to her again, and therefore no longer needed to impress you; so she swallowed the feelings of shame and self-disgust every time.

Switching over to a blank account with the user name “br!ck_master2013” that has 2 followers (both of which were bot profiles) and was following 0 accounts, Ellie types in your username by heart in the search bar. She scans your Instagram page for any changes. You don’t update it often; your last post is from early the previous summer and is just pictures of your family cat Clementine who had passed away.

A purple and orange circle dances around your icon, indicating you’ve posted something on your story within the last 24 hours. She let out an agitated breath before pressing her thumb onto the mirror selfie you’d set as your profile picture.

There are four stories: the first is from 22 hours ago and was a fan art post of a video game she knew you liked, the second is from 18 hours ago and was a picture of the mocha frappe Dina had gotten you the day prior with a caption thanking and tagging Dina, the third is from 15 hours ago of a post that read, “Don’t Want To See Trans People? Gouge Out Your Eyes” (prompting her to chuckle to herself), and the fourth is from this morning. Ellie’s breathing hitches.

It was a selfie you’d taken in your bathroom before you left for class. You’d captioned it with “fuck mondays but at least i’m cute,” an understatement in Ellie’s eyes. She was only permitted a minute to gaze at you in person earlier today, and it was from several feet away. A picture doesn’t amount to the real thing, but at least she can fully drink you in with her ocean green eyes this time, completely at her leisure.

You were wearing that same pretty, floral sundress, the sweater you were wearing earlier missing from your ensemble in the photograph. She doesn't recognize the dress, so she figures it must be new. Ellie thinks it looked like it was made for you, the way it fits you so perfectly.

She then dares to stare at your face. Even after all these years, she revels in how flawlessly you were always able to have your makeup complement your appearance. It was a gift, really, how you used colours to, not create your beauty, but accentuate it. And you seemed to have gotten even better at it now.

Ellie keeps taking in your image for what feels like a hundred years until your Instagram story closes out on her. She blinks and then sighs.

There’s no way Anderson hasn’t made a move on her already.

Ellie reaches underneath her bed and grabs her laptop. She knows what she was about to do pushed her even further into loser lesbian territory, but she had passed the point of caring long, long ago. She opens up her laptop and clicks on the Spotify application on her desktop.

The window pops up to display a few recommended albums and playlists. Scrolling past her most recently listened to song (“Novacane” by Frank Ocean), she clicks on the little icon on the top right that says “Friend Activity.” A sidebar opens up to reveal icons of a handful of Ellie’s friends. And of you.

When you’d blocked Ellie from everything, she guessed correctly that you wouldn’t think of blocking her on something as trivial as a music app. Most people in your generation didn’t really pay much attention to these stupid little details. But Ellie did. And she was thankful you didn’t.

Ignoring what songs the rest of her friends were listening to at the moment, she looked for your icon to see what you were playing. According to the tiny grey letters next to your picture, you were listening to “decode” by some artist named Sabrina Carpenter.

Ellie chuckles quietly. You had a rather wide variety in music taste, always having been musically inclined. But you weren’t immune to enjoying and fixating on what she would call “generic, top 40 pop straight girl music.” She’d tease you about this relentlessly, to which you would respond by turning the song up even louder and belting your heart out to it. Even though it was in the act of defying her, Ellie always noted internally what a pretty voice you had when you sang.

She figures that this artist was your current new fixation. She grabs her spare earphones from the drawer of her bedside table, plugging them into her laptop. She clicks on the song you're still listening to and lets it play. As the song progresses, Ellie feels her heart sink.

♫ You're good at the fallin', not the stayin' there / You're good at the givin' too much, then gettin' scared

You're good at impersonating someone who cares / And you had me for a minute there ♫

Ellie shifts her laptop to one side and rolls to the other, allowing the music to continue in her ears.

♫ But now I wonder why / I let your confusion keep me up at night

I'm so tired / Reread every single undertone ♫

Ellie sighs, hooking an arm underneath her pillow, clutching it tightly as she clenches her jaw.

♫ There's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you / Bein' myself, did that emasculate you?

Learnin' from you that I can walk away too / And you had me for a minute too ♫

Ellie frowns, closing her eyes, allowing the song to envelop her in shame.

♫ Now I wonder why / I let your confusion keep me up at night

I'm so tired / Reread every single undertone and I—♫

“Yo, Williams—” A voice interrupts with a knock on her bedroom door.

Ellie shoots up from her bed, earphones tearing out from her ears.

“What?” Ellie answers, irritated.

Jesse’s head pokes itself through the doorway. His expression turned into amusement once he saw hers of annoyance.

“Oh, sorry, dude. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” Ellie lies, relaxing a little and tapping the spacebar to pause the song. “What’s up?”

Jesse scans her features further. He took a step in, leaning against the doorframe.

“You alright?”

“All good, dude,” She says, closing her laptop and hopping off her bed. “Was just having a bad dream.”

Jesse considers this when his eyes wander to Ellie’s knife sticking out of the wall.

“Bro.” He says, pointing to it.

“It was a really bad dream, alright?” She shrugs.

“Els,” He groans. “If we don’t get our security deposit back—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fix it.” She says, crossing her arms. “What did you want?”

“You got a second? Got someone here who wants to buy.”

Ellie sighs.

“Yeah, okay. They good?”

“Should be.” Jesse confirms.

“Fine.” Ellie replies, standing up straighter and rolling up the sleeves to her flannel.

“Cool. You might have actually met him the other night.” Jesse jabs his thumb towards the living room, beckoning her to follow him.

“The other night?” Ellie questions, trailing after.

“Yeah, he was with us at the diner after the party.”

“Wait, what?”

Before Jesse can answer, Ellie’s eyes fall on who Jesse had brought into their apartment. Wearing a backwards cap, a plain navy blue t-shirt & khakis, their visitor looks like every other standard, forgettable college frat boy.

But Ellie didn’t forget. In fact, Ellie remembers exactly who he was quite well.

“You remember Adam?” Jesse asks.

“Man, really? Didn’t clock you as a queer.”

“Yeah,” Ellie answers, eyes seeing red and hands balling up in fists. “Yeah, I remember you.”

author’s notes:

okay so part of why this took me so long to write and why it also took a lot of convincing on my own part to post is cause i was writing it from ellie's perspective and that was a lot harder than i thought!! didn't plan it to be this way tbh but that's what flowed and well, here it is!

i hope all the college descriptions i’ve been writing have been realistic enough! i had a messy collegiate experience myself and i ended up dropping out after a few years, so i’m just trying to write from experiences from so many years ago (i legit researched what kind of classes aspiring astronauts need to take cause we know our girl wants to go up in space).

the birds on ellie's mug are just references to a couple of my gf's favourite birds (she's an avid bird watcher and she loves birds hehe)!

also idk why i know ellie's a whiskey drinker, but god i just know she is. what butch lesbian is not a whiskey drinker (just from personal experience, don't kill me).

you get a gold star if you got that "brick master" reference ♡︎

i also don't know why i know ellie would listen to frank ocean, but god her loser ass would be LISTENINGGGG to frank ocean. thank you also to everyone for bearing with me and my current sabrina carpenter phase rn ♡︎

does anyone else still look at their friends activity on spotify or is that just me. i love seeing what my friends are up to! i use the airbuds app too, i feel so involved. yeah, that is a pic of me from many years ago as reader's tiny little icon the spotify pic, that's the most y'all get as a pic of me rn sdklfjsd

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp

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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

Text

Never Thought

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: IM A GODDAMN MACHINE also fic named after this song :D

Summary: You meet the Millers [3.5k]

Warnings: questionable Hollywood motives, Joel being vulnerable, the cutest goddamn found family, probably incorrect foster case/adoption timeline, talks of the foster care system, Tommy being a little shit, yearning idiots

Trouble in Paradise? Everything We Know About the Fight Between Everyone's Favorite Couple

Joel Miller Spotted Landing in LAX ALONE

Lucky Guitarist in Central Park Saw Joel Miller and Girlfriend Before Leaving Her in NYC: "They looked pretty in love when I saw them."

"Do you realize how bad this looks?!" Melanie asks as she paces behind her desk. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting a headache, as she spirals. "Rumors are flying around that you guys had a massive argument backstage at the Tonight Show, and he left because he was pissed at you."

"That's not even close to what happened." You say, and she throws her arms up.

"Please, tell me what happened then because I've been fielding calls from major news outlets wanting to know what we have to say."

"His kid had an emergency. He went home early to take care of her. We didn't argue or have a falling out or anything like that. We actually had a really nice time."

"What kind of emergency?" She asks with a hawk-like determination in her eyes. Times like this make you realize that you never want to get on Melanie's bad side. When she's like this, she's absolutely lethal.

"I don't know." You shrug.

"You don't know?"

"It's not like we had a chance to talk about it! I did the interview, and by the time I was done, he was already on the way to the airport. He texted me that night to apologize and let me know that something was happening with his youngest."

"And it couldn't have been handled without him? If she needed her dad to come all the way home, she better have a fucking good reason."

"She's fourteen, Mel!" You snap, tired of hearing how much his leaving early affected her when something happened with his family. "Jesus Christ, she's a baby, and you're talking about her like she's an adult, which, even if she was, she has a right to call her dad for help," you say. She crosses her arms over her chest as she thinks, and you grab your bag from your chair. "I know these aren't the best circumstances, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you blame a child for a decision her father made." You wait for her to say more or argue with you, but she doesn't. You take a deep breath and reach for the door, more than ready to leave her and this conversation here.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about his kid?" She asks suddenly, and you turn to face her, your hand lingering on the doorknob. It feels like she's looking through you. Like she knows exactly what happened in New York but is waiting to see if you'll voluntarily come forward with it. "Wasn't a part of the contract to get involved with families." You shake your head and open the door.

"Then you shouldn't have paired me up with him." You say and leave her office. You're breathless by the time you get to your car. You've never left a conversation with Melanie like that, but you've also never heard her talk about a kid like that. It made your skin crawl to listen to her blame Ellie for just needing her dad. When the fuck did Hollywood get so ruthless that they have to use a fourteen-year-old as their scapegoat for something that's really not that big of a deal?

You're fuming the whole way back to your house, and the LA traffic doesn't do anything to settle the anger in your chest. It's been three days since you got home from New York, and communication with Joel has been sparse. He let you know that he and the girls were okay and apologized again for leaving so abruptly, but that's been the extent of your conversation. Which is fine. You have laundry to do and scripts to read through. You're fine to keep busy, but sleep is a little harder to manage.

You didn't realize that a couple nights sleeping in his arms would affect you so much. Now, every time you crawl into bed, the only thing you can think of is how big it is. Your dreams constantly replay your shared moments in New York, laughing together in the shower, walking hand-in-hand in Central Park, and the creases in the corners of his eyes. You didn't even realize that you were leaving space for a body that wasn't there until last night when you rolled into the cold space reserved for Joel and waited to hit his sleeping figure. For half a second, you considered getting a dog just so the house doesn't feel so empty.

You're folding laundry in your living room when your phone pings, interrupting the podcast you were listening to. You reach for it without a second thought, which you probably should've, considering you're still mad at Melanie, and see a text from Joel.

What are you doing tonight?

Joel Miller, you type. Are you trying to booty-call me?

Do you want me to booty-call you?

Maybe.

Well, I hate to disappoint, but I was gonna ask you to come visit the studio. I've got something I think you'll really like.

What's in it for me?

You leave your phone on the couch as you run upstairs to put your clean laundry away. You rush around your bedroom, stripping off the oversized, stained t-shirt you were wearing and putting on a vintage Talking Heads shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down stray flyaways and swiping a layer of mascara on before running back downstairs. You feel like a teenager getting ready to see the boy she likes, and something in the back of your head wants to be annoyed, but nothing can bat away the butterflies in your stomach. As you grab your purse and shoes, your phone lights up on the couch.

I've got a couple surprises up my sleeve.

Attachment: Location

You smile and tell him you're leaving now. His studio is in the heart of West Hollywood, and you have to stop at a security gate before you're allowed to park in the back next to Joel's car. Somewhere beyond the gates, a camera flashes as you enter the building and follow the studio numbers until you get to the one Joel told you he'd be in. You knock lightly on the door, trying to be polite, but someone on the other side rips the door open abruptly. A big laugh sounds from the other side, and suddenly you're face-to-face with a young man with long dark curls and big brown eyes.

"Oh, hi. I'm sorry, I'm looking for..." you trail off, glancing inside the studio until you make eye contact with Joel. He smiles and waves you in. "Him."

"Oh, you must be the girl Joel's been hidin' from us!" The man in front of you sends Joel a look as he opens the door wider to let you in, a similar twang peeking through his voice. When you fully step into the room, two girls are sitting on the couch across from Joel's chair at the soundboard, and you immediately recognize them as Sarah and Ellie. Sarah looks up and sends you a soft smile while Ellie stays focused on the rubber band she's wrapping around her fingers.

"Don't you go scarin' her! We wanna keep this one," Joel says as he stands and walks over to you. "This is my brother, Tommy. Don't pay him any mind." He says, and Tommy takes one of your hands in both of his and shakes it.

"Pleasure to meet you," Tommy says, and you smile, your brain finally catching you with the fact that you're meeting Joel's family.

"It's nice to meet you, too," you recover. "I didn't know all the Miller men were so handsome!"

"Oh, I like her,"

"Alright, that's enough," Joel scolds and you and Tommy laugh. Sarah stands and jostles Ellie as she does, making her misfire the rubber band at the soundboard, and Joel shoots her a look. She groans and stands beside Sarah, putting on a half-hearted smile. "And these are my daughters, Sarah and Ellie."

"It's really nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you guys."

"I wish we could say the same. This one," Sarah jerks her thumb in Joel's direction. "Is a master at dodging questions."

"Well, I love questions." You say.

You all settle once introductions are done, and you find yourself in awe of the dynamic the four of them have. Tommy and Joel are so at ease with each other, messing around and teasing one another, but still able to have conversations about the album art or release dates. Sarah and Ellie bombard you with questions, occasionally butting into their father and uncle's conversation to give their own opinions. And their questions are not the run-of-the-mill interview questions. No, their questions are deep, thought-provoking, unique questions that you enjoy teasing out with them. Joel was right about Sarah being a little bit more extroverted because she dominates a lot of the conversation, which you love and tell her as much.

"So many people are afraid to ask about things they're really passionate about, so it's cool to see you be so curious." You say, and a little blush takes over her cheeks.

"Thanks," she says. "I'm glad you don't think I talk too much."

"Not at all. I like hearing what you have to say." You say and watch as she fights a smile. You catch Joel's eyes watching over you and the girls, something flashing behind his irises, and you nod to let him know you're okay.

Ellie is a little quieter but really likes hearing about the more technical part of filming something. You tell her all you know about cameras and sound equipment, even promising to take her to set with you one day to show her everything because Lord knows the industry could use more women in production. Eventually, she feels comfortable enough to slump next to you in all her teenage posture, still fiddling with the rubber band.

"Want me to show you something?" You ask quietly, and she furrows her brows before nodding. You reach for the rubber band, which she reluctantly passes to you, and you slide down to copy her position on the couch. "So, the key to this is aim. Power isn't super important, but it's always a little bit more fun," you instruct as you slide the rubber band over your index finger and thumb. "So, what you want to do is lock onto your target, pull this back, and then let it go. Like this," You go over the steps slowly before aiming the rubber band at Joel's head and snapping back, sending it flying through the air until it hits him.

"Ow! The hell?" Joel screeches, and you and Ellie laugh.

"That was amazing!" Sarah giggles beside you, and you three dissolve into stupid, silly laughter. Tommy shakes his head and looks at Joel with a smile.

"You gonna let them do that to you?" He asks, and Joel takes a deep breath, taking in the sight of the three of you having the time of your life on the couch.

"'M outnumbered now."

"Sure are."

As the night progresses and you and the girls further slip into delirious giggles, you feel more and more comfortable with them. You're not sure what you thought would happen if and when you met them, but this is so easy and fun. Sarah tells you about the colleges she's applying to, and Ellie complains about her fingers hurting from trying to learn to play guitar. You advise Sarah about applications and even offer to read over some of her admissions essays, citing your BFA as your sole qualification. You're about to ask Ellie to play for you when Joel checks the time on his watch and slaps his hand over the watch's face.

"Alright, 's gettin' late, and you guys have school in the morning."

"But Dad!" Ellie protests, and he shakes his head.

"No buts. You gotta get some sleep. Uncle Tommy'll take you home."

"Dad doesn't like when I drive. Like at all," Sarah says, and you laugh.

"No, Dad doesn't like when you drive, and it's ten o'clock in the city with the world's worst drivers." He corrects, and she rolls her eyes. Despite their little arguing, both girls walk over to Joel and give him hugs and kisses before following Tommy out the door.

"Hey," He gets Joel's attention as he stands in the threshold of the door, and Joel raises his eyebrows at him. "You bring her round more often, you hear?"

"I'll make sure he does." You say, and Tommy smiles at you, winking before he finally leaves. The second the door closes, Joel gets up from his chair and walks over to where you're sitting.

"Hi," he says quietly as he leans over you and kisses you sweetly. You hum against his lips, and he collapses next to you, grabbing your legs and resting them on his lap.

"Thanks for the heads up, by the way. Are your parents here too, or is it just them?"

"Why? You wanna meet 'em?" He asks, and you slap his arm. "They really liked you."

"You think so?" You ask, and he nods, gently squeezing your ankle.

"I know so. I haven't heard Ellie laugh like that in a good while." He says, and you take a deep breath. His warm hands massage your skin, and the studio is completely still, and it feels just like it did in New York. The thought comforts something deep within you, and you reach out to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He still needs a haircut, you think to yourself.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be, yeah."

"What happened?" The question leaves you before you can stop, but he doesn't tense up or look panicky. He leans into your touch and focuses on the fraying hem of your jeans.

"She got in trouble at school. I still don't know the whole story 'cause she won't tell me, but she came home and took off on her bike. Tommy and Sarah drove around lookin' for her for bout an hour before they called me. They found her pretty soon after at a gas station, but it scared the shit outta me."

"Oh, my God. That's so scary."

"Yeah," he says. "I... didn't handle it in the best way. I grounded her for a month and took away her bike. We got into a big fight about it, and I hate fightin' with her," he sighs. Even though this was days ago, you can see how much it weighs on him still. You wonder if anyone ever panicked that much about how they treated you as a child. "I thought goin' back to Texas would've helped her, but it didn't."

"They were in Texas with you?" You ask, and he nods. Suddenly, the voices in the background of your phone calls and the spottiness of your conversations make sense.

"They went a week earlier and left a week after me to keep the press off them. They also just really missed their grandparents. Figured it'd be a good idea to get 'em outta LA for a while."

"Do their moms live in Texas too?" You get quiet as you ask about the women who brought Sarah and Ellie into the world. You may not know the whole story, but it also doesn't take a geneticist to figure out that Sarah and Ellie have different moms.

"No," he scoffs a laugh. "No, my parents are still in Texas, and Tommy lives there part-time, but that's really it."

"Where are their moms?"

"Sarah's mom left when she was a few months old. Divorced me and signed away her parental rights with the same pen. We haven't seen her since. I reach out to her folks every couple of years, but they never respond. They want nothing to do with either of us." He says, and your heart breaks for both of them. Sarah deserved to grow up with her mom, and Joel deserved to have a partner to help raise her, especially since he was so young.

"And Ellie's?"

"Never met her. Her name was Anna. The adoption agency told me she died a few hours after she gave birth. Left her a note but didn't have much else. No family, no husband, nothin'."

"Oh, I didn't know Ellie was adopted."

"It became official when she was twelve, but she's been with us since she was ten."

"Wow," you breathe, and he nods.

"Yeah," he says. "Sarah met her at school, and her foster home was just a shit hole, and she really just needed someone to take a chance on her. I still don't know why, but I got the paperwork filled out, and she was placed with us two months later. She's been with us ever since. That's also why I knew I had to come home when I heard she ran away. She used to do that to get away from her foster parents so they'd have an excuse to send her back."

"Did they?" You ask.

"Yeah. Six foster homes in two years."

"Jesus Christ."

"It's a lot. I know it is. That's why I didn't tell you bout them earlier. I didn't want to scare you off," he shrugs. "Plus, they're why I punched that photographer." He says like it's common knowledge, and you sit up. You remember Joel and Paul arguing about something when you walked into the room months ago, but you never asked about what. You also never asked him why he punched the pap because it didn't feel like your place.

"What?"

"The guy showed up at Ellie's school. He was tryin' to get pictures of her when the only thing she's done wrong is have my last name. He was yellin' things at me and asking me about her, and I just… snapped," he explains, shaking his head. "It's not right. I shouldn't have done it, but they're my girls. If I can't protect them, then I've got nothin'." You watch tears glisten in his eyes, and you push onto your knees to cup his face.

"You're a good dad, Joel. Possibly one of the best ones out there, okay? And you're not a criminal for losing your temper with your fourteen-year-old," you say. "Ellie's a teenager, and she's been through a lot. You all have. But those beautiful, intelligent, funny, amazing girls love you with everything that they are. I can see that, and I only spent a few hours with them today. They are good people because you're a good person," You stare into his eyes, hoping that the words will imprint in his brain, and he believes it as much as you do. You think Joel Miller could use someone believing in how good he can be. You think he needs it. You think he deserves it. "You are a good person." You whisper, and he takes a deep breath.

He rests his hands on your hips, and you move closer to him, resting your knees on either side of his hips and sitting in his lap. You kiss away the stray tears from his cheeks and feel him relax under your touch. You're sure that you'll need to tell him over and over again how good of a dad he is after so many years of just barely surviving, and you're okay with that. You'll tell him as many times as it takes him to believe it.

He catches your lips before you can get far and kisses you firmly like he's trying to show you everything he wants to say instead of speaking. He tastes like salt and cigarettes as he fiddles with the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against your stomach. There's nothing sexual about it. He just wants to be close to you, and you want the same. He traces patterns into your lower back, his hands splaying across your sides, and you bury your face in his neck. It's quiet and soft and almost domestic the way you two are cuddled into each other. As if you've been together for years, and this is how you greet each other after being away for so long. You inhale his scent and try to make out the shapes he's pressing into your skin.

"I wish I'd met you sooner." He says quietly, the words halfway lost in your hair. You kiss his jaw and squeeze him a little tighter.

"Me too," you mumble. "'M here now. I'm not going anywhere." And for once, instead of arguing or coming up with a reason to refuse to absorb what you're saying, he just nods.

"I know."

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