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justagalwhowrites · 10 months ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 1: Wrong Foot

Joel takes on a new contract as a bodyguard. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Non-consensual groping (not by Joel.) Mention of grief and child loss. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.1k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Two years later - September 2024

“You really want me for this one?” he asked as he rode up the elevator at the nicest hotel in Austin. Even after two years protecting wealthy assholes, Joel wasn’t used to shit like this. The fast elevators and the plush carpets and the trappings of wealth that provided everything his charges needed. Everything, it seemed, except safety.

For that, they needed him.

Protecting people, as it happened, was something Joel was good at. It almost surprised him how good he was at it. It forced him to be aware of what was happening around him for a change instead of just moving through the world like a ghost. It took that awareness for him to even realize just how dead he’d been in the years since the death of his daughter.

Usually, things went fine. Most often, he was shepherding tech or oil executives with inflated egos from business meeting to business meeting while they were in town and looking the other way when they cheated on their wives or put half his salary up their noses. Nothing ever happened with those assholes.

Occasionally, though, his job got interesting. Rabid fans tried to mob some pop star Joel had never heard of at a club on 6th Street once and he had to carry her out, forcing his way through the crowd before she got crushed. Then there was the supermodel who was posing for photos with fans when one little college-aged fucker thought it would be smart to grab her ass to cop a feel. Joel took a little too much pleasure in punching him so hard that he fell to the floor, knocked clean out. The football player had been the biggest trouble, though. Some hotshot asshole who’d just won the Super Bowl coming back to his college town to party. He picked a fight with the wrong drug dealer and damn near got shot for it, Joel whisking him away and getting winged in the shoulder by the bullet for his trouble.

He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he liked when the work got dicey. Being shot at was the closest to alive Joel has felt in years. Getting to lay out some asshole without the cops trying to arrest him for it had been the highlight of his month. It made him very good at his job and he liked that, both things that surprised him.

“You’re my best guy,” Tommy said. “You’ve seen more action on this job than almost any of the other guards and they want someone with a good history. Plus you don’t give a shit about… higher profile clientele. I can’t put fuckin’ James on a job with someone he knows, he’ll fan boy over ‘em. Remember when that one band came through?”

“Jesus,” Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been an easy job but it was one that he’d had to do most of the work on, James practically giddy the entire time. “Yeah, you’re right. So, what, this some pop star or somethin’?”

“Not sure,” Tommy said. “They’ve been playin’ it real close to the chest, won’t ID ‘em until we sign an NDA.”

“So you got no idea what we’re workin’ with,” Joel said, grinding his teeth.

“Just that it’s someone people know,” Tommy said. “Long term contract, real good money. They mentioned a stalker, they’re bringing all the information along on that to review, wanted you to see it before we signed on.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“Well,” he said. “Least it’ll be interesting.”

They made it to the top floor of the hotel, only four doors and Joel fought the urge to laugh. God, this breed of rich asshole was a whole new level.

Tommy led the way to a door labeled Presidential Suite and knocked, a young woman with close cropped dark hair and a headphone in her ear answered the door.

“One second,” she said, tapping her headphone before she smiled at the two men. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Miller. My boss prefers to have people come to where she is when she travels, I’m sure you can understand…”

“Of course,” Tommy said. “Happy to go wherever you need.”

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, leading the way into a hotel suite that had to be damn near the size of Joel’s entire house. “Coffee? Water? Tea? Also have a variety of Coke I think you call it here if you’d like that.”

“Water’s fine,” Tommy said.

“Still, sparkling?” She asked. “Also have cucumber, lemon, mint…”

“Uh,” Tommy blinked for a moment and Joel fought the urge to laugh. “Still’s fine. None of that other stuff.”

She nodded before she looked to Joel, her brows raised.

“Coffee,” he said. “Black.”

“Of course,” she smiled, leading them to a sitting room and gesturing to a couch. “Quinn will be with you shortly.”

She disappeared and returned with their drinks, handing them to each of them with a smile before she tapped the headphone again.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost syrupy sweet as she went to another room. “I appreciate you waiting since you’re apparently so willing to try to fuck us over…”

Tommy’s eyes went wide and he looked at Joel, the conversation becoming almost silent as she closed the door behind her.

“Definitely ain’t from around here,” Joel said.

“Guess not,” Tommy said.

It wasn’t long - Joel only drank half the coffee which was far better than he was expecting it to be - when another door opened, a woman closer to his own age coming out, dressed in an expertly fitted gray suit, her dark hair in long, tiny braids that hung to her waist. Sarah had always liked hair like that, always begged Joel to let her get them. He wished he had whiskey for his coffee.

The woman was on the phone, too, but she was on speaker.

“I don’t care,” she said. “You know the deal and I’m not going to just sit here and pretend that you don’t because you decided today was the day to play fucking games. Call me when you want to handle shit like a fucking grown up.”

She hung up and sat heavily on the couch opposite them, the girl who answered the door almost scurrying into the room and hovering near the large coffee table. The woman in the suit - Quinn, Joel assumed - giving her a single nod and she rushed off, quickly returning with a bottle of water and several folios.

“Tommy,” Quinn smiled. “While it’s good to see you again, I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I’m looking forward to getting this settled so we can stop meeting like this.”

Tommy smiled back.

“Can’t say I disagree,” he said. “Wanted you to have the chance to meet Joel, he’ll be the lead on this contract assuming we go ahead. He’s one of my best guys, got the history you asked for…”

“I’m sure being your brother doesn’t hurt,” she smiled a little. Joel raised his eyebrows and looked to Tommy but she answered his unspoken question. “We pulled backgrounds for everyone on your payroll. We can’t be too careful.”

She tossed one of the leather folios on the table.

“This is what we’re up against,” she said. “Redacted, of course, so you can’t ascertain who my client is but you’ll have access to the full versions should you accept the contract and sign the necessary NDAs. We’ve naturally brought them to the police and they believe the threat is credible. They have a lot of information - some of these were sent to my client’s private residence, for example - and it’s clear they’ve seen my client in person numerous times. We have reason to believe they will follow my client wherever she goes and there is genuine concern for escalation…”

Tommy picked up the file and looked it over, nodding slowly, before passing a page off to Joel. It was the photo copy of a printed letter.

You were beautiful today in that green dress.

One day, you’ll come home to me. One day, I’ll make you see.

Joel passed the page back to Tommy.

“I can see why you’re concerned,” Tommy said, handing the folio back. “Don’t seem like anything we can’t handle. I think we’re alright to move forward with the contract as discussed…”

There was a knock at the door and the girl ran to go answer it, Quinn ignoring it completely.

“Excellent,” she said, grabbing another folio and passing it over. “This is the contract and the NDA, already reviewed by your legal team. We just require a wet signature.”

Tommy nodded, looking over the pages, anyway, and Joel was starting to wonder why he’d had to be trotted out like some kind of prize show pony just to sign some damn paperwork when there was a commotion at the door.

“This really isn’t necessary,” the girl was saying, her voice oddly pleading, the total opposite of how she’d been on the phone.

“Oh I’m sure Quinn won’t mind,” another voice - a new one but there was a tug of familiarity to it that set Joel’s teeth on edge - said. “I am her favorite client, after all.”

Quinn’s head snapped in the direction of the sound and, in a sweep of gauzy clothes and floral perfume, you were there.

Joel recognized you immediately, everything about you seeming to have been built to be remembered. The whole world remembered you, it had been years since he’d been able to escape you. The biggest movie star on the planet, helming major franchises and winning fucking Oscars, on the cover of gossip rags at the fucking grocery store and on billboards advertising perfume and on Saturday Night Live. In person, from the second you appeared, you were a force. Your face, your voice, the way you held yourself, no wonder he always noticed you when you were all around him. No wonder his daughter had been obsessed with you.

Your face was a poster on her wall, a picture where you had the slightest, confident smile on your lips but your eyes always seemed sad. You turned those eyes to him, ranging over him like you were taking stock and Joel’s heart stuttered before your gaze turned to Tommy and back to Quinn.

“So glad you got the meeting started without me,” you said, all saccharine sweetness, stepping over Joel’s legs and sitting down on the edge of the couch between him and Tommy. You crossed one elegant leg over the other - your pants ever so slightly sheer so Joel could just make out your thigh below the loose fabric - and leaned forward, taking Joel’s white china coffee cup off the table and helping yourself to a sip with a jingle of your bangles that were piled high on your wrists. You gave him a wink as you did, setting the cup back on its saucer before leaning onto your leg, your arms folded in front of you. “I’m sure the fact that I didn’t know it was happening has nothing to do with wanting to cut me out of the decision making for something that’s going to be apparently integral to my life over the next year.”

“I just don’t want to bog you down with petty things like this,” Quinn waved you off. “You have enough on your plate, that’s what you pay me for…”

“Oh I’m sure that’s all it is…”

Quinn leaned forward, too, meeting your steely gaze from across the table. The knowing smile that had been on her lips just a second earlier was gone. In its place was a no nonsense expression that Joel imagined carried her far when dealing with Hollywood assholes. She, it seemed, was done coddling you.

“The studios know,” she cut you off. “Someone at the police station leaked it. And they won’t insure you without higher levels of security, especially if you want to spend this much time outside LA. You want to keep working? You need security. At least until we get to the bottom of whoever is sending you letters.”

“Have you tried telling them how well the tickets will sell when I die?” You asked, brows raised. “I’m sure they’ll be champing at the bit then, especially now that they can just replace me with CGI for whatever isn’t in the can…”

“That’s not funny,” Quinn said sharply.

“Oh, come on. It was a little funny.”

She glared at you.

“Do you really want someone like that getting close to her?” She asked, her voice almost unsettlingly earnest and gentle. You almost deflated then, giving in. “It’s not safe, babe. I’m trying to keep you safe. It just so happens that it’s also in the studio’s best interest so you don’t have to foot the entire bill.”

“You must not have told them about the boost in ticket sales, then,” you said wryly. She rolled her eyes. “But fine. If you really think there’s a risk to her? I’ll do it.”

Joel wondered who this “her” was. Knowing movie stars, probably some tiny fucking dog you carried in your goddamn purse.

You looked to Joel for a moment, your gaze oddly cutting, like you were seeing through every part of him before turning your attention to Tommy.

“When does your contract begin then?”

Tommy glanced at Joel, almost asking if he was actually OK with this. Clearly, this wasn’t what Tommy had expected either. Joel gave a minute shrug.

“Tomorrow,” Tommy said, looking back to you. “Joel here will be your point man but you’ll also be working with a few other guys from my company. He’ll get you oriented tomorrow and we can work out a way to ensure your protection that’s minimally disruptive to your daily life.”

You scoffed.

“Something tells me having a wall of muscle follow me everywhere is going to disruptive,” you said. “But the studio says jump, we say how high, right?”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Quinn said.

“We all know who does,” you muttered darkly, getting to your feet. “Well, since all this was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not, I think I’m done wasting my time here.”

You turned to Joel and he found himself in the unnatural position of looking up to someone, his jaw tight as you levied those exacting eyes on him again.

“See you in the morning,” you said, reaching down and helping yourself to another sip of his coffee with a wink before stepping over his legs and heading out the door in a whirl of soft perfume and flowing fabric. He looked back to the coffee cup. Your lipstick was on the rim.

Joel tried not to think about how you looked at him as Tommy finished up with the formalities, the conversation between his brother and Quinn a drone he couldn’t really make out over the noise in his head as his leg bounced impatiently.

When Tommy had looked at him just now, the silent request for permission, he should have bowed out. He should have said he didn’t want to put his life on the line for some spoiled fucking brat and gone home. But he hadn’t and he couldn’t back out of this now. It didn’t matter how much you made him think of his daughter. It didn’t matter how your eyes seemed to cut him to the quick. He owed Tommy. When he’d started in this business, he’d told his brother that he could do this work and sometimes that meant doing shit he wasn’t comfortable with. He would just have to live with that.

Eventually, Joel gave up on sitting still.

“Be downstairs,” he said gruffly to Tommy when the conversation with Quinn lulled for a moment. He didn’t wait for a response before going for the elevator, relieved that it as empty on the way down to the lobby as it had been on the way up.

But the ground floor of the hotel was not the quiet place it had been when Joel had arrived. Instead, there was a press of people just outside the doors, phones up and loud enough that he could hear them through the glass. He frowned for a moment before he realized what it was, the metal of your bangles catching the light as your arm rose above the crowd, a phone clutched in your hand as you took a selfie.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, stalking over toward the door.

At least, he thought, he wasn’t on duty until tomorrow. If you really wanted to handle shit that bad on your own? Fine by him.

The doorman held the door for him and Joel gave him a stiff nod as he tried to force his way from the building, but the press of people was becoming suffocating, every inch of sidewalk crammed tight.

“Can I get a selfie?”

“My girlfriend loves you, can you say hi to her on video?”

“Can I have an autograph?”

“Look, I’m happy to give you all whatever you want,” you said, voice friendly but still curt. “But I need a little room to breathe, OK? I’m not in a rush, we’ve got time, it’s…”

Someone from the outside edge of the crowd shoved forward, sending the press of people toward you, Joel tall enough that he could see how they tripped and jostled, sending you stumbling into the person at your back. You had to fight for the space to stand up again, the man you’d fallen into’s hand running up your side to your chest, cupping the underside of your breast as you tried to find a way to separate from him. If it wasn’t for the look on his face, Joel might have given him the benefit of the doubt. But his lecherous smile gave him away, and the thinly veiled look of disgust on your face told him you knew exactly what this man was trying.

Something that hadn’t existed much since Joel lost everything took over. It was rage, blind and violent and coursing through him sharp and heady. That rage didn’t give him a chance to really think, but then, it never had. Not when he was a kid and his dad was on some bender, not when he was some hotheaded teenager looking to pick a fight with a bully at school, not when he was at a bar and saw someone who could have killed his daughter. It was no different now as he practically dove into the crowd, forcing the group apart and not caring if people got pushed into the street or shoved to the ground.

“Move!” Joel yelled, not that it seemed to do much beyond warn people that he was coming for them. He reached you in a matter of seconds, towering over the man who’d decided to take advantage of your vulnerable position to grope you. The man - more of a kid, likely some student at UT who didn’t know his ass from hole in the ground - gaped up at him, his eyes wide and his hand still on your breast.

Joel took your arm and pulled you, roughly, away from his grip, tucking you behind him before refocusing on the kid in front of him.

“You think that shit’s funny?” Joel asked, his hand curling into a fist. “Touchin’ a woman without permission?”

“I was just…” he looked afraid and something inside Joel flared with pride at that. Look at what he could do, he thought, it looked like he was capable of something after all.

“Know what you were just,” Joel cut him off, mockingly, before grabbing him by his shirt and slamming him back into a marble pillar. The kids head smacked against it with sickening crack. “Do that shit again and I’ll bust your jaw.”

Joel released him and the kid slumped to the ground before he turned to find you, looking down at the kid with your mouth slightly open.

“C’mon,” Joel said, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him, ducking your head down low to ruin the picture for anyone who might be trying to take one. “Let’s go.”

He looked around, the crowd thinner now but all watching him.

“Move!” He roared again. This time, they listened, parting like the Red Sea as he ushered you quickly away, back into the hotel. He looked to the door man, trying not to glare at him too hard. “Those assholes don’t come inside, we clear?”

“Yes sir,” the man said quickly.

Joel looked to you next.

“Where’s your car?”

“Valet,” you said, your forehead in your hand. “I didn’t get a chance to even grab it yet, someone must have tipped off some fucking gossip blog that I was here…”

“Got the ticket?” Joel asked. You sighed and fished it out of your pocket and handed it over before Joel took it to the front desk and told them to have your car brought out back. He also got directions to the loading dock before going back to find you, in the same spot on the plush lobby couch, fingers laced together, elbows braced on your knees.

“C’mon,” Joel said, making you jump before looking up at him. “They’re bringing your car around back, we’ll get you out of here without those fuckers knowin’.”

You looked back down at the ground before giving a stiff nod.

“Thanks.” You got up and took a deep breath, raising your chin, an almost serene look on your face before looking to him. “Lead the way.”

He did as you asked, watching like a hawk for anyone who might be stupid enough to try to talk to you. But no one seemed to pay you any mind, even as the two of you cut through the dining room - closed between lunch and dinner service - and into the kitchen, where dozens of cooks were working to get set for the evening. They just ducked around the pair of you, sometimes giving Joel a dirty look for getting in their way, and then you were at the loading dock.

“Here,” Joel said, jumping down from the edge of it to the alley still damp from rain from the night before. He held his hands out to you. “I’ll help you down.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather do it myself,” you said. You were more cautious about it than Joel but you jumped down and landed lightly beside him, brushing your hands free of the dirt from the dock before crossing your arms tightly over your chest. Your jaw was tight, the only sign on your calm, uncommonly beautiful face that something might be wrong. Joel crossed his arms, too.

“You OK?” He asked after a moment.

You looked at him for a second, your brows raised ever so slightly.

“Fine,” you said after a moment before staring straight ahead again.

“You sure?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why he was pressing. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t care.

“Yes,” you said and then you laughed once, sharply. “I mean, no, I’m not but what the fuck am I going to do about it? It’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

Joel ground his teeth.

“Shouldn’t be.”

“Regardless,” you shrugged, glancing at him again. “Thank you for your help. You didn’t have to do that and… Well, I appreciate it.”

“Sure,” he said as your car came around the corner. You dropped your arms before turning to face him.

“Looks like it’s you and me starting tomorrow,” you said. “I’m sure your boss will give you all the details but I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Joel,” he said after a moment. “Miller.”

You smiled, a small, almost hesitant one, the slightest upturn of your lips.

“Joel Miller,” you repeated back to him. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…”

“Don’t need to tell me your name,” he said. “Pretty sure everyone on Earth knows your name.”

You laughed again in that same, humorless way as your car stopped beside you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I suppose they do. See you tomorrow, Joel.”

“See you tomorrow, ma’am.”

He watched you pull cash out of your pocket and smile more broadly at valet who was damn near gawking at you. You discreetly handed him the money as you shook his hand and Joel stayed there in the alley until he couldn’t see your car any more.

“Holy shit,” the valet said and Joel looked down at him. He had to be about 18 years old, still wet behind the ears. Probably had fucking posters of you up in his room that he jerked off to before he went to bed. He held up the cash. “She gave me 100 bucks!”

Joel looked down at him, making sure to draw himself to his full height.

“You gonna tell anyone we got her out this way?” He asked. The kid swallowed hard and shook his head. “Good.”

Joel tried not to grind his teeth as he went back inside to find his brother. He wished it wasn’t too late to back out of this. You, he thought, were going to be far more than he’d bargained for. He just hoped he was ready for it.

***

“I’m not wearing this.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Seriously dude?” You asked, incredulous. “Can’t you wait like… two days before picking a fight?”

“Have you seen this fucking thing?” Ellie’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she held up the hem of the blue plaid skirt that, you had to admit, looked sickeningly unnatural on your 14-year-old niece. “You could put a whole circus up this thing! And how am I supposed to kick someone’s ass in a fucking skirt?”

“First of all, language,” you said. She rolled her eyes. You ignored her. “Second of all, you shouldn’t be kicking anybody’s ass. Why are you starting your day thinking about ass kicking? You haven’t even met these kids yet, I highly doubt you’ll need to kick someone’s ass your first day.”

“I’d like to be able to kick someone’s ass if I need to,” she said, incredulous. “Come on. You know this is insane.”

You sighed as the doorbell rang and you checked your watch. 7 a.m. on the nose. Well, at least the man was prompt.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Run upstairs, put on something else…”

Ellie took off as Esmo, your household assistant, appeared next to you, Joel by her side.

“Morning,” he said, voice gruff. You looked him over quickly, a side arm at his belt on a pair of jeans that fit him entirely too well. You doubted they were tailored, either, they just fit him like that, the bastard. Just your luck that you’d get stuck with a bodyguard who was unnaturally good looking but also an asshole. “Thought we could get started with…”

“Sorry, that won’t work, things are a bit off the rails this morning,” you said to him quickly, not giving him a chance to respond before turning to Esmo.

“Do you still have the name of the uniform store?” You asked her. “If you do, can you see if they’re open? I think we’re going to need to stop for pants…”

“Yes ma’am,” she said, quickly pulling out her phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think to get pants, the requirements were very clear…”

“It’s not your fault,” you said quickly. Esmo had only been working for you for a few weeks and it felt like the two of you were still getting used to each other. She insisted on calling you ma’am. You insisted on doing too much for yourself. It was a delicate balance. “She’s just…”

“OK,” Ellie came thundering down the stairs in the same sweater with a button down shirt and tie but jeans instead of the skirt. “Ready!”

“Store opened at seven,” Esmo said, pocketing her phone. “I can take her and…”

“I want to do it,” you cut her off, catching a glimpse of Joel’s shocked expression out of the corner of your eye as you looked back to your niece. “Alright trouble maker, ready to go?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Girl,” you said. “Language, please!”

She made a face but made her way to the front door, anyway, her thumbs looped through the straps of her book bag and you turned to Joel, still surprised at just how large he was, even after being against him the day before.

“Assuming you’re along for the ride on this,” you said, jerking your head for the door. “But we gotta book it, with an extra stop we’re already not going to be early for her first day.”

He still had a look of almost shock on his face but he followed behind you as you grabbed your keys and wristlet from the bowl by the door, Ellie bouncing impatiently from foot to foot.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were excited,” you teased as you made you way to the Porsche SUV you’d gotten specifically to haul Ellie around. “Almost like you want to go to school instead of hanging out with me all day.”

“Spending time with old people does get… well, old,” she smirked, heading for the passenger seat but you stopped her.

“Absolutely not, you’re in back,” you said, jerking a thumb toward Joel - who still hadn’t spoken. “This man has a good foot on you, we’re not making him sit back there.”

“Ugh, fine,” she huffed but obeyed, throwing her book bag against the opposite door before clambering in as Joel went for the driver’s seat, holding out his hand for the keys. You gave him a look but he just raised his brow, his arm still extended expectantly.

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll let you follow me around like some guard dog but I’m keeping some last vestige of my autonomy. I’m driving.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“No.”

“And why not?” You asked. “Because you have control issues?”

“Do you know evasive driving tactics?” He asked. “How to watch for pursuers and safely out run them?”

“No, but I did my own stunt driving for the Fast Track franchise,” you said wryly. “Think I’ll be fine. Now move, you’re making us late.”

He ground his teeth.

“We’re talkin’ about this,” he muttered before stalking off to the passenger side of the car.

“Yeah I bet we are,” you said under your breath as you got in the car and programmed the GPS for the uniform store.

“So,” Ellie said in a teasing tone as she leaned between the front seats as you started off. “Who are you?”

“Put on your seatbelt,” he said.

She rolled her eyes but sat back and obeyed.

“This is Joel,” you answered for him. “He’s going to be around quite a bit.”

“Is he like another assistant or some shit?” She asked.

“Language,” you said and you caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes in your rearview mirror. “And no, not an assistant.”

“Ohhhh,” she smirked. “So he’s like a boyfriend then, got it…”

Joel rolled his eyes.

“I’m a bodyguard,” he said. “I’ll be protecting your…”

“Bodyguard?” Ellie interrupted and leaned forward again, frowning. “Why do you need a bodyguard? You didn’t have one of those in LA, what the fuck?”

“I have a bodyguard because you can’t go five minutes without saying fuck,” you said wryly. “My life is under constant threat because of…”

“Please,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “You have a worse mouth than I do. But seriously, why do you need a bodyguard? Is something going on?”

You saw Joel moving to talk but you spoke before he had a chance to.

“This is just a different place than LA,” you said quickly. “People here aren’t used to people like me just showing up in grocery stores and stuff. It can get out of hand quick so the studio wanted me to have Joel around. It’s just a precaution.”

She seemed skeptical but was satisfied enough by the bullshit explanation you’d just given her that she sat back, pulling a Savage Starlight comic book from her book bag and you smiled a little. A lot might have changed in the last few months but at least Ellie was still Ellie.

You made it to the uniform store and told the woman inside - who was seemingly trying not to gape at you but was failing miserably - what you were looking for. She grabbed a few pairs of uniform pants in different sizes before leading Ellie to the fitting rooms and you hung back, waiting for her to change with Joel by your side. He stood facing you, eyes constantly sweeping the store as though this strip mall just outside Austin were a war zone.

“No one told me you had a kid,” he said eventually.

You smiled, sadly.

“Yeah, well,” you said. “I have a kid. That’s a pretty new development, though.”

That made him pause, his eyebrows drawing together as he looked to you.

“I adopted her,” you said. “A few months ago. Her mom was a single parent and like a sister to me. When she got cancer, the first thing she asked me was to take Ellie if… I told her that she was nuts, that she’d be around forever and she wouldn’t need me to do anything for Ellie besides take her to Europe for a cool aunt vacation when she turned 18 but… well, now I have a kid.”

“I…” His voice trailed off. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged.

“It is what it is, I guess,” you said. “She’s why I’m here. Things in LA… I’ve always been in her life. I was the second person to ever hold her. But I’ve always kept the paparazzi far away from her, I’ve made sure she has privacy and that she was as sheltered from that part of my life as she could be. I want to settle into this with some version of normal, one that isn’t possible when I’m in LA. And you, Joel, are throwing quite a wrench into that.”

“Oh this is so much better,” Ellie threw the door to the changing room open with a flourish, in a pair of blue pants that perfectly matched the blue of the sweater. “Not as good as jeans but better than that stupid freaking skirt.”

“Alright,” you said. “We’ll take five of those and then we have to get you to school because there’s no point in loading you up on uniforms just to have you miss your first day, let’s go.”

You weren’t as early as you wanted to be - you’d been hoping to have a chance to meet Ellie’s teachers before the day started but that plan was shot - but at least kids were still arriving. You grabbed a baseball cap from your glove box, Joel stiffening as you reached between his legs to open it and you resisted the urge to smirk at that. As though you’d be trying to come onto him at all let alone with your niece in the car.

Hat on so you were somewhat disguised, you walked with Ellie and Joel to the front of the stone building, one that had clearly taken inspiration from the ivy league schools the kids who went here were all but destined to attend. A gray haired woman in a charcoal pantsuit rushed out to greet you, an almost stern look on her face.

“Welcome to Austin Preparatory Academy,” she extended her hand. “I’m Amanda Stark, headmistress here.”

“Good to meet you,” you said, taking her hand, feeling Joel standing oddly close to your back. “This is Ellie, she’s looking forward to starting here today and…”

“We’re looking forward to having her,” she smiled a little at Ellie before redirecting her attention to you. “But I’m afraid there’s been some… ah… miscommunication about the uniform. Girls are required to wear skirts. I’m sure we have…”

“No miscommunication,” you smiled a little, steeling your spine. From the moment you’d caved to Ellie, you knew this was coming. But you’d been prepared to fight far bigger battles over this kid, this wasn’t going to be any different. “Ellie just prefers to wear pants. It wasn’t a problem at her last school, I’m sure it won’t be a problem here.”

Ellie stuck her chin out, smirking a little and defiant as ever and you resisted the urge to elbow her. She could at least act like she wasn’t going to get her way.

“But it is,” the headmistress said. “The uniform code here has been this way for decades and…”

“And I’m sure you’re not suggesting that just because something has been done one way that it should continue to be done that way at the expense of students’ comfort and learning experience,” you finished for her, smiling tightly.

“We have expectations for our students,” she said, her jaw clenched. “Just like they will have one day to be successful in life, and…”

“And you’re wearing pants,” you nodded to her suit. “And so am I. Of course, if you’re suggesting that neither of us is successful then…”

“No, no of course not, that’s not…”

“Wonderful!” You said brightly. “I’m glad that’s settled. I’m sure Ellie won’t cause any disruption wearing the uniform pants and now I won’t need to spend my day contacting every major news network here in Austin and asking them to come here and chat with me about your archaic gender rules and expectations. Sound good?”

You watched her grind her teeth for a moment.

“Of course,” she said after a moment of silence hanging in the air. “But we are close to the start of the school day and…”

“Yes, I don’t want to be a distraction,” you smiled before turning to Ellie, tucking a hair that had already broken free of her ponytail behind her ear. “Alright kid, behave yourself, OK?”

“Yes Sissy,” she rolled her eyes. Your heart still tightened a little when she called you that. She sounded so much like her mother, Anna. You loved that Ellie called you the same thing her mother had but still, it stung.

“I’ll be back to pick you up,” you said, putting your hands on her shoulders. “Have a good first day, OK?”

“Oh I will,” she said and you watched her head into the building with the headmistress at her side until you couldn’t see her anymore.

“OK, she’s dropped,” Joel said, his voice tight. “Let’s move, this place isn’t secured.”

“Well that sure seems like a gap in security, doesn’t it?” You said, brows raised.

“One I would have fixed if anyone had bothered to tell me you had a damn kid,” he practically growled.

“Probably a bad idea for your boss to not have insisted on bringing me into the conversation then, wasn’t it?”

He looked at you, his face hard.

“Keys.” He held out his hand.

You laughed once.

“Keys?” You said. “Really? Just ‘keys,’” you grunted it like he did, “that’s it?”

“Your kid is inside,” he said, hand still out. “Don’t have her to use an excuse now so, keys.”

You looked at him for a moment, the firm set of his jaw, the flecks of gray just starting in at his temples. He was a good looking man, tall and broad with a rugged look to him. He’d make a good cowboy in a western, you thought, or maybe a hardened detective. But protecting someone like you seemed out of place for him. Beneath him a little, almost like he was a sell out.

“No,” you said simply, ducking around him and heading for the car.

He followed closely behind you, even his footfalls gruff and angry. You sped up a little but he stepped in front of you, anyway, his oddly large body blocking your door. He opened his mouth - probably to try to order you around again - but you cut him off before he had the chance.

“I’m not letting you drive,” you said. “It doesn’t matter what you do or what you say. If you want to drive, you’re going to have to pick me up and move me so, if you want to get out of here quickly and without causing a scene, you’ll get in the passenger seat and we can go.”

For half a moment, you thought he might actually throw you over his shoulder. Instead, he just grunted and stalked around to the other side of the car, ripping the door open roughly. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. All this pretense over some stupid letters from some over zealous fan.

You got in the car and dropped the keys in Joel’s lap. He frowned, picking them up.

“You want to have the keys so bad? Fine.” You pushed the button and the car roared to life. “I’ve got them right where I want them.”

“You gotta come to terms with how this shit is going to work,” he said sharply. “You can’t just do whatever the hell it is you feel like. I get that you’re some spoiled fuckin’ actress who only ever does exactly what she wants whenever she wants but I got news for you, I don’t give a shit how many movies you’ve been in or awards you’ve won. I care about keeping your ass alive and to do that, you gotta listen to me. I ain’t one of those fuckin’ ass kissers you spend all your time with so we can do this the hard way or the easy way but either way, it’s gonna be my fuckin’ way. Understood?”

You watched him for a moment, your tongue between your teeth to keep from snapping at him. It was something you were used to, something you’d been doing since you were a girl, always shutting up while the people who were more powerful than you - people you’d made fucking rich - made every decision for you.

That was one thing on set and in your career and even for posed fucking paparazzi shots but not in your real life.

“I need coffee,” you said, putting the car in drive. “Coffee?”

“I’m sure you got people who can do that for you,” he said, his jaw clenched.

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” You smirked before nodding down to his wrist. “Oh, also? Your watch is broken.”

You pressed the gas harder than you should have, the car jumping sharply forward, wondering just how far you could push your new shadow before he backed out.

Next Chapter

A/N: OK I'm already in love with writing how these two push each other's buttons. Annoying Joel Miller is my passion, I can't wait to drive this man absolutely insane over the arc of this fic.

Thank you so much for being patient as I wrapped up Yearling and went on vacation! I'm hoping to update this once a week going forward so you won't need to wait quite so long between chapters from here on out. I hope you enjoyed getting to know these two a little better!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #the savage and the sanctuary #bodyguard!joel #bodyguard au #slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers

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sxie-txt · 2 months ago

Text

CATALYST | S.JY

Jake/Jaeyun x reader

+ft. Wonbin from Riize cause he's my baby

SUMMARY Getting paired with your crush for a chemistry group project would seem nerve-wracking to most. For you, it felt like the perfect chance to prove your skills and maybe something more.

But things don't go as planned, especially when someone else is determined to see you fail.

GENRE romance, angst, highschool au, slight fluff

WARNINGS swearing, chemistry inaccuracies, use of korean names, also Da-eun is just an oc. sorry if i missed anything. Not proofread

□ hi guys! This is my first ever story debut here in tumblr! I hope you enjoy my writing.

wc. 816 (ithink?)

It all started with a clipboard and a randomly assigned group list. Your Chemistry teacher pinned the paper on the bulletin board with a bit too much enthusiasm, as if she hadn’t just sealed everyone’s academic fate for the next two weeks. You scanned the list with half-lidded eyes, expecting the usual — people you barely talked to, the quiet kid who did all the work, the loud one who never did any. But then you saw it.

Group 3: Jaeyun Sim, Da-eun Lee, Wonbin Park, and [Y/N].

Your heart did this embarrassing little flutter thing. You weren’t proud of it, but you couldn’t help it. Jaeyun — or Jake, as everyone called him, was the kind of boy who made classrooms feel just a little warmer. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was kind in this casual, effortless way, the kind that made you pay attention when he spoke. You’d had a quiet crush on him since mid-semester. And now, you were going to spend the next two weeks in his orbit.

You looked around the classroom to find your group mates. And you saw him already looking at you. He gave you a small little smile before turning away to the front. You were too moonstrucked to even smile back. A blush appeared on your cheeks.

You turned to look a Da-eun.

She wasn’t thrilled. You caught the way her eyes narrowed when she saw the list. She masked it well, with that polite smile she wore like perfume, visible but never quite sincere. You hadn’t done anything to her, not really, but you could feel it every time she looked at you. Like she was sizing you up. Measuring your threat level.

You thought maybe it was all in your head.

The first group meeting was awkward. Wonbin was chill and mostly just let everyone talk, nodding and taking notes when necessary. Jake, as expected, tried to bring everyone together, suggesting ideas, cracking a few jokes to break the ice. He was the smartest in the class, and it showed. He had this easy confidence when he spoke, like he already saw the solution five steps ahead. You contributed too, offering to work on the experiment plan. But Da-eun… she was quiet. Not unfriendly, just calculated. She always sat a little closer to Jake than necessary, always offered to partner with him when it came to mixing chemicals or running tests.

You noticed. She noticed you noticing.

And Jake? He didn’t seem to notice at all.

Still, you tried not to let it bother you. You stayed focused, especially when the experiment wasn’t working. Your goal was to find the correct chemical ratio that would create a stable reaction, a glowing solution that represented a perfect molecular balance. It was supposed to be simple in theory, but in practice, it kept failing.

So one afternoon, with the deadline looming and everyone too frustrated to care anymore, you stayed behind to work on it. You researched formulas, reviewed notes, and finally, you thought you had it.

“I think I found the right compound,” you said, your voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “It has to be potassium iodide. It balances out the reaction when mixed slowly with hydrogen peroxide —”

“You sure?” Jake asked, stepping closer to the lab bench. His sleeves were rolled up, his hands smudged with graphite. He looked at you like he wanted to believe you.

You nodded, heart hammering. “I double-checked. This should work.”

But when you ran the experiment… it didn’t.

Instead of glowing blue, the solution turned murky and began to smoke faintly. You had to scramble to turn on the fume hood. Everyone panicked, and the entire test had to be scrapped. The solution was ruined. The materials were wasted.

Da-eun was the first to speak, voice like honey laced with something sharp. “Well… that was a choice.”

“I know I got the chemical right,” you said quickly, turning to Jake. “I think someone might’ve—look, I double-checked the labels before I added anything, but when I turned around, it looked like the bottle had been moved. I swear it wasn’t potassium iodide anymore. It felt like—”

“What are you saying?” Da-eun asked, her smile stretching a little too tight.

You hesitated. “I think you switched the chemical.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “You think Da-eun sabotaged the experiment?”

You turned to him, your chest tight. “I know it sounds crazy, but I was careful, Jake. I swear. It was working until—until someone messed with it.”

He looked at you for a long time. But then he shook his head. “Come on… Da-eun wouldn’t do that.”

“But—”

“It’s just a project,” he said, softer now. “Let’s not turn it into drama, okay?”

That was the part that stung the most? the way he dismissed you. Not angrily. Just like he didn’t believe you. Like he couldn’t imagine that Da-eun, perfect, sweet Da-eun — would ever do something so petty.

And maybe that was the moment you realized: having a crush on someone doesn’t mean they’ll take your side.

Especially not when someone else is better at playing the part.

Maybe he was right.

As much as it hurt to admit, the words stuck with you as you cleaned up the mess in silence. The murky solution, the wasted time, the panic. Maybe you had made a mistake. Maybe you had been too tired or distracted, too eager to prove yourself. And accusing Da-eun like that… it felt so far from who you were. You weren’t the kind of person who pointed fingers.

But in that moment, you had.

So you kept your head down and said nothing more, even as Da-eun lingered behind a little too long, organizing bottles and giving Jake a soft laugh when he helped her straighten the labels.

The next day, Da-eun showed up to class with a fresh page of calculations and a neat little proposal written in her handwriting. She handed it to the group with a casual shrug.

“I think I figured it out last night,” she said, not looking at you. “It’s probably better if we just move forward with this formula. We don’t really have time to waste experimenting again.”

Jake skimmed the paper, nodding slowly. “This actually makes sense…”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at the paper, the neat columns of data, the highlighted reaction sequence. It wasn’t far off from the research you had been working on, just tweaked. Cleaned up. Framed like it was hers all along.

And maybe it was. Maybe she had figured it out after all.

But then Da-eun added, “I mean, not everyone’s cut out for lab work. It’s fine. We all have different strengths.”

You blinked. It wasn’t what she said, it was how she said it. With that sugary voice and a glance that didn’t linger long enough to be obvious, but just long enough to land.

Jake glanced between you two, brows drawing together slightly.

You tried to smile, to laugh it off like it didn’t get under your skin. Like her words didn’t feel like a slap dressed up in politeness. But it must not have been very convincing, because Jake hesitated before speaking again.

“You okay?” he asked later, when the others were packing up.

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

There was a pause, just long enough to feel like he didn’t believe you.

“You know…” he started, then stopped. “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

You looked at him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Jake didn’t push. He just gave a small nod, but his expression lingered a little longer, as if trying to read between the lines.

And as he turned to go, you couldn’t help but wonder... if he’d noticed earlier, would he have believed you?

Or were you always meant to play the part of the girl who almost got it right, only to be quietly outshined?

You didn’t stop contributing. You still showed up, still researched, still stayed late to refine the data. Next to Jake, you probably did the most. But somehow, it never looked like that from the outside. Da-eun always managed to say the right thing at the right time, always delivered her ideas with this polished confidence that made people listen. And when something worked, the credit tilted her way like it was natural.

You didn’t fight it. You didn’t see the point.

They were wrapping up another late session in the lab. Da-eun was packing her bag, chatting easily with Jake about how they should format the results, and you were hunched over the data logs, organizing the numbers that didn’t want to stay in line.

“That part’s from [Y/N]’s notes, right?” Wonbin asked, pointing to the graph Da-eun had just handed to Jake.

She froze for half a second—just long enough.

Jake looked down. “Oh? I thought you said you ran these tests last night.”

Da-eun smiled, brushing hair behind her ear. “I mean, I did. I just, uh, referenced her notes for comparison.”

Wonbin didn’t look up from his phone. “That’s weird. [Y/N] ran those results with me during our last session. You weren’t even there.”

There was a pause.

Small. Sharp. Almost forgettable.

Jake didn’t say anything at first. But something shifted in his face. A crack in the ease.

Later, after Da-eun left with a quick excuse, Jake lingered by the bench, pretending to sort through supplies. You were already halfway out the door when he called your name.

“Hey,” he said, quietly. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned, slowly. “Sure.”

“That day. When the experiment failed.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You really think she switched the chemical?”

You didn’t answer right away. You just looked at him, tired and worn down.

Jake let out a breath. “I think you were right.”

You blinked. “What changed?”

“I noticed some of the labels in the cabinet were moved,” he said, voice low. “Not just that day. A few times, actually. And Da-eun always insisted on prepping things ‘just to be safe.’”

He hesitated, eyes meeting yours.

“I didn’t want to believe she’d do something like that. But the more I looked at the work we’ve done… the more I realized most of it—was yours.”

You stared at him. It didn’t feel satisfying, or even relieving. It just felt late.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he added. “I should’ve seen it sooner.”

“No,” you said, voice calm but distant. “You just didn’t want to.”

He flinched a little. And for once, he didn’t have a clever comeback. Just silence.

Wonbin walked by then, raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

“Guess we’re finally having that conversation,” he muttered, before heading out.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. Not because it was funny. Just because it was easier than being angry.

And Jake looked at you like he’d missed that sound.

Like maybe he was only just now realizing what he'd been ignoring all along.

The next day, you kept your distance.

You didn’t sit next to Jake. You didn’t speak unless someone asked you a direct question. You stuck to the background, finishing the report, double-checking calculations, highlighting errors. You didn’t even look up when Da-eun walked in like she hadn’t spent the past week rewriting your work and smiling like it was hers.

Jake kept glancing at you.

You felt it, every time. But you didn’t meet his eyes.

Not because you were being petty, but because it hurt to. Because it hurt to pretend nothing happened, to pretend you hadn't meant what you said. Jake hurt you, whether he realized it or not. And right now, you didn’t know how to make yourself smaller just to make him feel better about it.

Jake finally said something when class ended and the others filtered out.

“[Y/N]—can we talk?”

You didn’t stop packing your bag. “Is it about the project?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then maybe later.”

You walked out before he could answer.

Your steps felt heavier than you wanted to admit. But you kept walking anyway.

You were about to leave school but then you remember that you left your calculator in the locker. Your locker was not far off from the lab—it was pretty near actually.

You stuff a few books before you heard voices outside the lab. Your hand freezes midway from pushing the book inside your bag. You notcied the door was slightly ajar. You decide to go nearer to listen.

Da-eun’s tone was light, but there was an edge to it, like sugar over glass.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly so obsessed with her.”

You didn’t move. Just froze where you stood, still behind the cracked door.

“She made one good guess and now she’s the backbone of the project?”

Jake didn’t answer immediately. But when he did, his voice was low and clear.

“No. She’s always been the backbone. I was just too blind to see it.”

Silence.

Then Da-eun laughed, sharp and defensive. “Come on. She’s average at best. She only shines because you let her.”

There was a pause.

“No,” Jake said, sharper this time. “She shines because she’s actually good. Better than you. Smarter than me, even.”

You blinked.

Da-eun’s voice dropped, venom just beneath the surface. “So what now? You think defending her makes you the good guy?”

“No,” he said. “It doesn't justify that I didn't believe her.”

You hurriedly closed your bag and completely forgot about your calculator.

Jake looked up first, eyes wide when he saw you through the glass door. Da-eun turned, her expression falling for a split second before she pulled it back together.

You just brushed past them, and you heard Jake say, quieter this time, but loud enough for you to hear, “She deserved better than both of us.”

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t need to.

Da-eun’s silence followed you all the way down the hall.

The next day in class, Da-eun tried to act like nothing happened. She sat next to Jake again, placed her notebook between them, leaned over to ask questions that didn’t need answers. She smiled, soft and calculated.

But Jake wasn’t playing along anymore.

He barely glanced at her. Answered with short nods. Moved his chair half a step away without even realizing it.

Wonbin noticed.

He gave you a look across the room, a small, satisfied smirk that didn’t say I told you so, but definitely meant it.

And then, during the final presentation review, the teacher pulled up the group’s documentation on the projector. The parts with names attached to each segment of the experiment.

Every page.

Every test.

Every formula.

Almost all of them had your name on them.

The rest were Jake’s and Wonbin’s.

Da-eun’s name appeared once — and only because you had included her in a group summary early on.

The room was quiet. You weren’t looking around, but you could feel the shift. The glances. The whispers. The realization.

Even the teacher paused. “Is this correct?” she asked, brows raised.

Jake spoke first.

“It is.”

Then Wonbin replied casually, “Yeah. We double-checked everything last night.”

The teacher gave a small nod and moved on, but the silence stayed heavy around Da-eun. She didn’t say a word for the rest of class. Her smile was gone. Her hands didn’t touch her notebook once.

You kept your eyes on your desk.

But you didn’t have to say anything.

The truth was loud enough.

It was over. The grades came in a week later. Your group got the highest mark in the class. The project had been a success, technically. But no one really talked about it.

Da-eun stopped sitting near Jake. Actually, she stopped talking altogether in Chemistry, her usual sharp presence dulled into silence. She avoided your eyes in the hallway. Not that you were looking for hers anymore.

You thought it would feel better. But it didn’t. Not really.

Jake hadn’t tried to talk to you since the day outside the lab. You figured maybe that was his version of an apology, letting it all die quietly. No more damage. You tried to move on too. Buried yourself in other assignments, laughed a little louder with your friends, acted like Jake Sim hadn’t made something twist in your chest every time he looked at you.

It didn’t work. Not really.

You stayed behind one afternoon to wipe down your station. Everyone else had left, except for Wonbin, who gave you a lazy salute on his way out and mumbled something like “later, genius.”

You almost smiled.

Then you heard footsteps stop behind you.

“You don’t have to clean everything, you know,” Jake said.

You didn’t turn around. “I like clean things.”

“I know,” he said softly. He sounded like he’d always known. Like he hadn’t stopped knowing even after everything.

You kept wiping the counter, focusing on the smudges even though your hands were still. Your heart was not.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said.

You didn’t look at him, didn’t trust yourself to. “You said that already.”

“Not properly,” he replied. “Not like this.”

You stayed quiet, watching your reflection blur in the polished surface.

“I should’ve believed you,” he said. “I did. Deep down. I just didn’t want to admit I was wrong about her. And I hate that it hurt you.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. It did.”

He exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath since the day everything fell apart. “You were the best part of that group. Always were. You carried us.”

You let out a soft laugh, tired and a little bitter. “Not that it mattered.”

“It did,” he said. “I noticed. I always noticed. Before the project, too. I just... never knew how to say it.”

That made you look up.

He looked nervous. But more than that, he looked at you like he meant every word. Like it physically hurt him not to.

“I liked working with you,” you said quietly. “Even when I hated it. Even when I hated you.”

“I deserved that.”

“You did.”

Another breath, and then, “But you were still the only part I looked forward to.”

He froze at that. Just a flicker, but it was enough.

Then he stepped closer, carefully. “Are we okay?”

You paused, searching his face. The part of you that wanted to stay mad was tired. The part of you that still liked him, that never really stopped, was louder.

“You’re still annoying,” you said.

“But...?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, before you could overthink it, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was quick. Just a brush of your lips against skin, warm and barely there. But he went completely still, like the whole world had just paused to catch its breath.

You stepped back, eyes meeting his.

“But I’m glad it was you,” you said.

Jake stared at you like he couldn’t believe what just happened. Then he smiled. Really smiled. The kind that reached his eyes and made your stomach flutter.

You grabbed your bag and brushed past him, sleeve grazing his. He didn’t stop you.

But at the door, you turned back.

He was still watching you. Not like he was waiting. More like he just couldn’t help it. Like if you took one more step, he'd follow.

And truthfully?

You hoped he would.

□ you made it to the enddd!!! Thank you so much dear reader for reading >.< I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for the other stories im gonna publish soon hehe. I hope you like this little fic i made for jake cause i love him sm. 💜 reblog and like if you liked it <3

#enhypen #enhypen ff #fanfic #kpop #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake #jake #jake sim #wonbin #enhypen angst #romance #fluff #enhypen romance #jake angst

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slutdge · 18 days ago

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life update ramble under the cut if yall gaf about that

making a bigger effort to limit my online time bc i recognize a lot of the time it really just makes me anxious and is rotting my brain and im starting to fall into terminally online loser behavior. i turned 26 last month and was just like "wtf am i doing man". its become an extremely unhealthy coping skill for me and i can FEEL the toll its taking on my braincells so. working on fixing that. i also have had my anons turned off for a while and just block people that annoy me extremely liberally bc like. its not that serious. its tumblr dot com. i wanna curate my space and have a good time on here not worry about dipshit morons that cant fucking read.

i reached a breaking point in being a doormat and receptacle for everyone else 24/7. with ptsd its really hard to set and hold even the smallest boundaries but im really... at a breaking point with how shitty it makes me feel all the time. small considerations are not too much to ask of people that supposedly care about me and if theyre going to be adverse to them i dont want it in my life. this has kind of just been a dynamic ive been cursed with my whole life, ive always felt, like i said, like a doormat for everyone else. i dont want to enable that anymore because too many people get acustom to being able to treat you like that and it just spirals out of control. *through gritted teeth, shaking uncontrollably like im about to combust" i am a person with value that deserves respect :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))). and yes i do recognize there is some responsibility on me to stand up for myself. im trying my best. but also holy fuck is it that hard for other people to just be mildly considerate of other people. im so worried about pleasing everyone else and what everyone else thinks im never pleasing myself or worrying about what i thnk of myself. its fuckin stupid and shitty.

as far as college goes, i got the highest scores out of my whole class on every final exam last semester and that was a really big win for me even if it seems a little silly. growing up being failed by the school system, being in the at risk youth program, not being accomodated for disability, and having a guidance counsellor in school tell me verbatim she wasnt expecting me to get very far in life and was just here until i wasnt going to be the schools problem anymore was really discouraging. hazard to say traumatizing even. getting back into school was really hard for me, it was scary and i wasnt sure id be able to do it but. im in my last semester now and looking at continuing studies after this. its still been scary and really stressful and i hate it 99% of the time and almost everyone i go to school with is insufferable and makes me wanna tear my hair out but. im still trucking.

ive reduced my drinking pretty significantly, its definitely still alcoholic levels and unhealthy and yeah i started smoking again but all im drinking is beer now, no more hard liquor, and thats been going alright. i feel less shitty than i did when i was blacking out every single night. im not ready to quit it yet, i know that i need this as a way to self medicate otherwise im gonna lose my fucking mind worse than usual. but im not doing heroin anymore so be grateful its just beer an cigarettes now.

yes the two abusive psychos that will not be named are still in my life yes i am still in physical danger 24/7 and one of them was responsible for giving me the concussion i got last month, yes it still makes me think about killing myself all the time yes it is soul crushing to do this all on my own with no support, im not gonna lie about that and do some fake positivity shit. that fucking sucks and these people have irreparably ruined my life. thats that. no silver lining there. i keep drinking because thats the only thing that will bring the anxiety down and make me functional in a lot of cases.

in the last 6 months or so ive felt a really big shift in my life, kind of like ive shed a large portion of who i used to be but im welcoming it, im trying to just see where im gonna end up, but it is a relief to be in a new place, with school to keep me busy, to be making an effort to get out more and do more things etc etc and self reflecting and all that dumb mental health shit, i feel like im finally closer to knowing and figuring out my actual self instead of the closet full of 100 personas i put on to please everyone else. im also doing my best to be mindful and try to leave small things in the past and do DBT & CBT and all that dumb fuckin therapy shit.

im still gonna be a hater i wanna make that clear. and i still hate my life. also wanna make that clear. i am still feeling shitty all the time i wanna make that clear. and im never going to turn into a toxic positivity person either wanna make that VERY FUCKING CLEAR, i am probably gonna be what ppl would call a pessimist until the day i die, im never gonna be a shiny happy person.

religious trauma is also on my mind a lot right now, more than usual, i realize how much it has stunted me mentally and day by day im trying to remove that shrapnel from my brain but holy fuck its hard dude. that shit sucks. if organized religion has zero haters im dead. and fuck the new pope. i wanna do tings for myself and make life as enjoyable as i can.

im also trying to deprogram all this dumb shit my parents have drilled into my head my whole life. my parents are fucking morons and huge assholes and i hate them, why retain what theyve taught me instead of branching out and educating myself and building myself, not being a clone of them? every time i do something that reminds me of them it makes me want to peel my skin off. not a good indicator. i dont want ideas from brainddead morons like them poising my mind anymore. its ok to do things you enjoy and be upset and be angry and be yourself and be "weird" (weird by their definition is anything that isnt rigid adherence to conservative catholicism)

i also stopped talking to my sister and dont intend to ever again honestly and i dont feel any way about it. shes been a nasty bully to me my whole life. were full grown now, shes 30, and still acting like were kids. all around a nasty unpleasant person to be around all the time. blood is not an obligation to me. weve never had a real relationship and im not gonna do it anymore. its a waste of my time and energy. not to mention shes an alt-right nutjob now which i double dont want to fucking be around. this whole family sucks and im not crazy for feeling that way, theyre crazy for acting like this and being held to this nuclear family mind cult where no matter what blood is blood and you have to suffer them forever. fuck. that.

this post is a mess and im overtired and i have an assignment due at midnight so im gonna check out. dare i say im looking forward to making more progress. do i dare. when you spend your whole life convinced you were gonna kill yourself its scary to start thinking and seeing that maybe that wont actually be how you end up. dont hold me to it though.

thanks for visiting my corner of the internet

im still gonna be a cunt about music and i still hate psychiatry as an institution and want to burn it to the ground.

good night.

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tls12lessthan3 · 8 months ago

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So. orvs metatextual nature and gay jokes. orv is an action fantasy book, a genre designed primarily for men and starring men. now most of these books are not gay, but there is often a tendency by audiences (particularly female audiences) to see some level of romantic tension between male characters. orv is no exception to this. some authors respond with outright hostility when they see fans shipping their male characters, and some simply ignore it completely - but some go the route sing shong does, and play it for laughs. before i go any further, i would like to clarify a term i will be using - shippers. while this literally refers to readers who think there is romantic potential between two characters, i will be using to specifically refer to instances where those two characters are of the same gender. im doing this because i cant think of a more elegant word to be completely honest, and this is tumblr meta so who cares.

orv is a metatexual narrative which is aware of its genre and aware of its readers. those readers are represented in the narrative, and sing shong knowing that fans would see a possible relationship between kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk made sure to represent that too. so we get uriel, the fujoshi angel who is constantly reading into kim dokjas and yoo joonghyuks relationship in a way that is often played for laughs. now ive certainly seen worse depictions of ‘shippers’. uriel is treated with affection by the main characters, who genuinely like her (and the fans she represents by association). her love for joongdok is implied to come from her having a crush on her friend and projecting, which i see as a kinder depiction than the usual ‘slavering fujo’ trope.

and perhaps most importantly her engagement with the story seen as just as deep as any other reader if not more so! uriel is one of the characters we see most changed by kim dokjas story - in every other universe shes a fierce and furious warrior, and while she never hesitates to kick ass in this round either, kim dokjas story has given her a solace that has made her significantly softer. she helps him out sooner than any other constellation, saving his ass in many ways during the demon world arc, demonstrating a deep investment we are clearly meant to be grateful for. wherever it comes from, uriels engagement with kim dokja’s story is shown to be a genuine and deep one appreciated by the characters. through this sing shong is almost directly speaking to the shippers in the fanbase who are often mocked or disregarded, saying that their love for the story is important too, wherever it comes from. i see this as sweet, and i like that unlike so many other authors sing shong recognise the role shippers often have in a story’s success.

however, i hesitate to give sing shong too much credit. because along with the genuine appreciation of uriel as a character and all she represents, there are jokes mocking her and those like her, and there are a lot of them! like i said above, sing shong wrote orv as a metatextual narrative that engages not just with the genre but with the genre’s fans. sing shong knew that people would ship their characters, as that is what happens with books like orv. and so they wrote in many jokes about it, jokes based around the ‘silliness’ of those who would assume kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk have romantic feelings for each other. and given orv’s metatexual nature, this also mocks the nature of shipping itself. when someone assumes kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk are together and they react with disgust, as frequently occurs in the earlier parts of the novel, we are meant to laugh not just at the misunderstanding - really, these guys gay, how silly. but we are also meant to laugh at the idea that these Protagonists are homosexuals, and at the people who make those assumptions. its a simultaneous acknowledgement and mocking of the queer undertones of both this story and it’s genre.

so you get this overall impression of a narrative that ultimately loves all of it’s readers, including shippers, but also isn’t afraid to say it thinks all that gay stuff is kinda silly. and while ebook edits have largely removed many of these gay jokes, an undercurrent of this still remains. from what i know this largely reflects sing shongs actual opinions at time of writing, whether or not they have changed later on.

dont get me wrong, i love orv, i love joongdok, i love their relationship and i do read it as romantic. i too read the scene where lee gilyoung insists kim dokja is into men and kim dokja responds aghast and gone ‘haha, gay’. as a queer person in the webnovel scene i am no stranger to taking homophobic moments like that and reclaiming them, making the characters queer and pretending the author is laughing with me and not at me. im not trying to preach to anyone here. but i also think its important to acknowledge the conversation orv is having here - its valuing of shippers and its mocking of queerness, and where they overlap.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #uriel orv

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katyawriteswhump · 4 months ago

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love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe 3.1/8

Thanks again for the lovely response to this fic... I am trying to get more ready as fast as I can without messing up 💚 This is posting in two parts today, to force me to stop tweaking the first half and get to a final proof on the rest!! ETA: Part 3.2 now up

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: as flagged earlier, we're E now; No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst, sexual content, self-touching, wet dreams 💚

Chapter 1 on tumblr (also index post) Chapter 2 on tumblr On AO3

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Steve passed the rest of the day in a kind of trance.

On the way home, he took a wrong turn on a walk from his bus stop he’d done a hundred times. By the time he got in, he was so flaked out there was no way he could eat.

Despite his usually tiptop levels of personal hygiene, it’d gotten to the stage where he barely wanted to wash. The idea of scrubbing away the teeniest hint of Eddie sickened him, and obviously, he wanted Eddie’s scent imprinted in his nest. Still, when Robin called and said she was coming over, he forced himself to shower. He scrubbed his skin red raw in places, without really knowing why.

When she arrived, she launched off about how she was totally over her crush on some girl, Nancy, who she’d met at book club. Finally, as he reheated two slices of home baked apple pie, she narrowed her eyes to inquisitorial slits.

“Steve, are you okay? You seem… feel…”

“Different?” Steve dumped two hot dishes on the breakfast bar. “Look, can you level with me? Do I smell different?”

“I mainly smell dessert.” She frowned, inhaling slowly: “I get peaches, that white-chocolatey yum that you insist is chamomile, all ruined by those diabolical chemicals they use at the café. Oh, and that papaya shower-gel on rollback at Walmart this week. Usual stuff. I’m a Beta, remember, I don’t pick that stuff up so well.”

“How about this?” He sat down beside her, and pulled her close, pretty much burying her nose in his hair.

“Mmmm, okay. Most of it is definitely you…. but, yeah, there’s something else there.”

Something so potent and claiming that it'd torpedoed its way through Steve’s overzealous attempts to wash.

He ’fessed up.

Not about who Eddie was, in case Robin knew more than he wanted to hear. He simply told her about the hot Alpha, who he really liked.

“Robin, he came back three days in a row. I’ve never been so aware of an Alpha’s scent, and his, erm,”—the proximity of his big dick— “his Alpha-ness. I think he likes me too.”

He picked up the cream carton, started pouring it over his untouched pie.

“Before you go tits-over-ass,” said Robin, “do you reckon this sex-on-legs Alpha prince is willing to court you properly?”

“I don’t know, I… doubt it, I… oh shit!” Robin shot out a hand to grab the cream from him, before it flooded over the rim of the bowl. Wow, he couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“Steve, this is the risk you take working there. All the blockers and dampeners in the world can’t stop Alphas predating Omegas.”

“Predating? Christ, Robin! I mean, if he wanted sex, predatory or otherwise, he’d go… somewhere else.”

It was true! If Eddie wanted sex, he’d hire a sex worker. He could sleep with a groupie. Christ, the lead singer of some super-cool rock band could have anybody he chose.

Customers came to ‘Kitties’ to… cuddle kitties.

Yeah, maybe that’s what he came for initially, Harrington. Now he’s seen something he wants and…

Steve couldn’t decide if the logical conclusion of that sentence set him gasping with terror or preening with excitement.

“That’s NOT what’s happening here,” he told Robin, kinda forcefully.

“Isn’t it? Unless he’s gonna court you, he’s messing with you—wanting to chat like you’re besties, dropping by every day? I know, to an extent, you’re paid to be messed with. But at least there’s rules in that place to keep you safe. Has he flouted them yet?”

“No. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

There was the weird foot massage. Oh, and he fed me cake, but neither of those are strictly against the rules.

“Riiiiight,” she said, swallowing a mouthful of pie. “So how did he get his scent so deep beneath your skin?”

Beneath Steve’s skin. Yeah, that’s exactly where Eddie was, and he wanted him so much deeper.

He stared at his untouched dessert. “He hasn’t tried it on, honestly. Tomorrow, tho’, he has kind of booked me. For the whole evening. In a private room.”

“Oh my God, Dingus!” She dumped her spoon down with a clang that set Steve squeaking. “You absolutely cannot go into work tomorrow. At this rate, you’ll form such an attachment you’ll be off for weeks with rejection sickness.”

“But the suppressants—”

“—appear less than useless with this guy! Listen, the soup kitchen is recruiting, paid Omega posts, helping in the kitchen and stuff…”

She kept talking. He zoned out. Surely he couldn’t get rejection sickness that quick? Plus, her soup kitchen idea was lousy. She always promised she’d protect him, and make sure nobody checked up on his identity. Jesus Christ, though, if the shit hit the fan, she’d be in the spray-zone too.

And even she didn’t know the entire story...

Thinking about it send Steve into a spiral of panic, eyes glazing, which Robin read as:

“See? You’ve gone all spacey.” She reached across, swiped her hand across his admittedly clammy brow. “That Alpha is making you ill already.”

“Fine, you win.” He pushed away his cream-drenched pie. “Look, let’s agree that both our love lives are monumental lost causes. Can we change the topic already?”

They snuggled for a while and played ‘Animal Crossing: Pocket Camp,’ on her phone. In the end, to get her off his back, he swore he’d call in sick the next day.

He felt like a complete douche for the lies and evasions. What choice did he have? He needed to get rid of her, to get a good night’s rest. Though, in the event, he tossed and turned right through to the small hours.

When he did sink into a shallow slumber�� Holy crap!

Eddie was fucking him, ’course he was. He’d gotten Steve bent over the lower part of the cake counter, and he’s ramming into him with that Alpha dick, sending crockery crashing and brownies scattering.

Shame Steve knew it was a dream. Despite his fretful clenching and writhing—and a serious ‘call-911-before-I-drown’ flood of slick—he couldn’t feel Eddie really stretching him, satisfying him as he craved.

He’d had dreams like this before. It was always some rando Alpha grabbing him, throwing him down face-first, taking him roughly. His stupefied brain never bothered to give them a face.

Tonight, though, he struggled as hard to conjure Eddie’s face in his dream as he strove to feel that dick truly splitting him. He wanted to be stuffed, yeah.

More even than that, he wanted to stare into the fathomless depths of those gorgeous brown eyes. Have that abyss surge up and subsume him. He wanted Eddie’s mouth to devour his, till Eddie’s flavor was all he could taste. And he needed those firm lips to nibble along the line of his jaw, skating down the tenderest parts of his throat, till those gleaming fangs pierced him.

He didn’t care about the blood and the pain. He craved it as much as anything, because he wanted… He needed…

Eddie.

Then it got even better. He dreamed he was curled in a cosy little nest, with Eddie blanketed around him. He wept because he knew Eddie was going to fuck him lovingly, slickly and sweetly… Oh, and stuff him so deep, knot him so thoroughly, that they’d have to snuggle here for hours. Days!

As Steve drifted towards wakefulness, that empty feeling grew excruciating as his heat-cramps had been. He finally awoke properly to the sound of rain hammering against his window.

The bedclothes he’d soaked with sweat and slick were drenched too.

He slid his hand between his legs, inhaling sharply at how sensitive it all felt. His slit was beyond juicy, and he smelled himself—his Omega sweetness—stronger than in forever.

He’d played with himself before, had even gotten toys around, although the blockers repressed some of his sexual appetite. The mere echoes of his dream about Eddie ignited a tingling glow in his cunt. He stroked a couple of times, then dragged his hand out, held glistening fingers in front of his nose.

He giggled and returned to fingering himself, thumb toying with the hard little nub of his cocklet. He was half-tempted to go find that dildo.

Then he stopped mid-stroke.

He didn’t think he could endure the ‘little death’ feeling he’d get from bringing himself to climax alone. He briefly considered getting Eddie’s image up on his cell… but no. If he scrolled in the wrong direction, it could be catastrophic.

The last thing he wanted was to know about the ‘real’ Eddie Munson.

What if Eddie’s ‘nice guy’ persona was an act? What if those generous tips—that’d gotten Steve up-to-date on rent for the first time ever—were intended as a sweetener? Would he expect Steve to roll over tonight then be all, “So long, see ya, Honey.”

His gut told him otherwise. Tho’, really, wtf did his airhead Omega instincts know? He should simply try and enjoy his little crush without holding out too much hope. Or getting fired and seeing the precious little life he’d carved for himself come crashing down around his ears.

He climbed out of bed and stripped the sticky sheets. Good job he had intended to do his laundry today anyhow.

When he got to the café later—he forked out for a Lyft, because the rain would’ve wrecked his hair—it was humming with customers settling in for ‘kitty-kitted-up’ night. It was their only late opening of the week, and the vibe was always jazzier than usual. Even the soundtrack shifted from that loop of plinky movie songs to 80s and 90s hits.

As Steve hurried through, Kate Bush was hitting high notes even Chrissy could never dream of. One of the other kitties—wearing a ginger catsuit—was idly batting a ball of wool around a customer’s ankles.

While the rules remained the same, the kitties generally acted out more playful and fun. Rumor had it that Carol had once put on moves resembling a lap-dance for a particularly smexy Alpha. Tommy had apparently sulked for a week. Steve, meanwhile, had been squeamish about the whole costume thing at first. Then he’d learned to enjoy the attention.

Now, he wanted nobody’s attention but Eddie’s.

He found Chrissy in the back corridor, wearing a strappy tiger-print minidress that barely covered her panties. She held a compact mirror and was drawing on a black cat nose with eyebrow pencil. On spotting Steve, she bounced on her bare toes, setting the little bell on her kitty-collar jingling.

“Steve! I’m so jealous! Eddie is soooooo hot! And he’s soooo into you!”

“Yeah, but I haven’t listened to any of his songs yet. What if he sings like a muppet?”

She wrinkled her nose incredulously, “Steve! As if!”

He returned her hug then left her to her make-up. He’d arrived early for two reasons. Firstly, at home he’d started chewing his fingernails for the first time since fourth grade. Then something else had struck.

The back of the café was a total dump.

Where the hell could you entertain a rockstar who doubtless lived in the lap of luxury?

Chapter 3.2 on tumblr Chapter 3 on AO3

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Thank you so very much for reading. If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank you💚

I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe 💚

tags 💚🐈‍⬛💚 @disrespectedgoatman 💚 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@katethetank 💚 @themoonagainstmers 💚 @chaotic-waffle 💚

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

#steddie omega cat cafe #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steddie omegaverse #omegaverse steddie #steddie #steddie au #steddie fluff

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wraheathcliff · 2 months ago

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A Quick Dictation

Warning: Graphic magical medical gore, dubious patient discomfort, light (mean, brief) gay smut, addictions, vampirism, over-the-top elf drama. Consider yourself informed, foul citizen. It's only going to get worse from here. I did tone it down for Tumblr...

Heathcliff remained frozen as crystals slowly reflected under the dark lashes of his gaze in the microscope, collective ions of arcane transforming to rapidly precipitate out in glowing green clusters of organized fractals. The drop of wretched blood on the slide bloomed calcified arcane from mere granules of the expensive crushed dust. Nothing unusual there, but this one formed too quickly. The sample was giving him mixed results, and he was running out of time to figure it out. The beauty of the transformation was consistent, but the rate and amount was changing by a variable he had yet to understand. He wouldn't even be able to start on the experimentation with his own Dracone blood if he couldn't find a reasonable baseline to compare. The fresh samples should have helped but his subject was dying. He had been doing this with multiple slides for hours. Eyes narrowed in frustration.

Pustules all over the wretched man tied tightly face-down to his operating table nearby were abundant examples of how far over-indulgence ravaged elven bodies to horrific effect. The arcane clustered with oversaturation in the blood, forming these crystallized deposits usually near the spinal column and upper back, sometimes terminating the subject once they reached the heart. Removing them was risky, infection rates high. Users would often re-ingest these pustule clusters as they glowed with the concentrated arcane deposits, recycling the addiction back into the body. In this way, addicts could sustain themselves when it became harder to get the high levels they desired. Different than symptoms of withdrawal, like the withered of the Nightborne, the wretched occupying ruins in the Ghostlands were beings of excess. They bathed their bodily systems with the arcane in any way to get even higher. Their tolerance levels were always craving more.

A tortured scream muffled pitifully from the frail patient as he drooled a black pool on the cold steel, face pinned to one side, eyes barely seeing. Heathcliff frowned at the disruption, his mood growing more tetchy and sharp. The crowded lab should be properly segregated with isolated rooms for research but he found no time to organize the slowly growing collective experiments crammed on shelves and occupying sections of surfaces that made sense only in his mind. The rattling metal distracted him, but the screaming meant it was time for more sedation. Soon.

The familiar noise of his creaking laboratory door followed shortly after. Heathcliff didn't need to wonder who it was. The lack of noise told him everything.

"Tantalus." Heathcliff declared like a warning, as if the vampire intruder was already pinned beneath him. "Not now."

Slender pale arms snaked down Heathcliff's chest as a predatory smile sighed against his ear. "Doctor… you look so tense. How about a little break?" the voice smooth and soft, a poisonous pleasure. "I brought you your mail from the front entrance." He tossed a bundle on the desk with a flick of his wrist, jostling it a bit on impact.

Heathcliff's eyes never moved from the microscope as he refocused the lens. "Hasn't my brother kept you sufficiently occupied?"

Tan pouted becomingly, head resting on Heathcliff's shoulder from behind. "Cruel. You know I'm hungry."

It was routine by now, indulging his beautiful friend's appetite. Almost daily, as of late. But Heathcliff's price was always very high. Dracone blood was too rich, in more ways than one. And they were certainly not lovers.

Heathcliff sighed with feigned burden, acquiescing reluctantly. "Very well. Partake if you must. But expedite matters, I implore you." He jerked his neck away from Tan's grazing teeth and began to loosen his belt. "On my terms."

Tan sank gracefully down as he had done so many times before, not wasting time to satiate his greedy vampiric appetite on the addictive, heavy Dracone blood while exciting his host. Blood that tasted like a heavy threat and a promise, ancient and wrong, coming out of all the right places.

The practiced exchange was just getting started as Heathcliff noticed the letter on top of a pile of mail. He reached over to read it while fully engaged with Tan's attentions below the desk. The moans got a little louder between his legs as a smile of appreciation excited him while reading Lady Shadowglade's reply. So she had disposed of him. Now it was time for renegotiations. That thrilled him to the bone. He reached down and sunk his fingers into silvery hair, curling until his grip was good enough to yank Tan off him after a few more delicious moments, trailing blood all on the stone floor.

"Up." Heathcliff dragged him to his feet by his hair and released him only to get a better grip on him by the throat. He hovered close, eyes softening and accessing slowly as if finding the perfect place to kiss. Lips grazed and a skilled tongue licked his own blood off a lip, a chin, only to pull back and turn him around roughly, bending him over his desk. His demands stated clearly: "Take it all off." This was a business transaction, not a date. Heathcliff moved a step to the side to yank open a desk drawer, pulling out parchment, ink and quill. He placed them on the desk in front of Tan, now naked with elbows and palms resting on the surface.

The doctor ran his hands along the elf's well-toned body with a smile as he approached him from behind almost fully-clothed, leaning down on top of him to whisper instructions in his ear. "You're also going to pen a letter I dictate. And do not spill a drop." Tan complied in his heady state of blood lust, dragging the parchment in front of him with a palm. Was this one of the doctor's new little games? He didn't have time to wonder as he felt a warm liquid, a tingling fire start between his shoulderblades and river down his spine in a pleasurable descent. Heathcliff continued pouring the silky liquid from a glowing beaker within reach, a careful trail of something dark and purple dropping down Tan's divide where it would be needed most. He gasped and arched his back, roiling with anticipation.

Heathcliff established a relentless cadence, plundering mercilessly. "Pay attention now. Transcribe precisely as dictated." Tan's eyes widened as he braced himself, attempting to actually use the quill, struggling to keep it steady.

"Lady Shadowglade, How refreshing to learn our friendship can bloom... uninhibited by former arrangements." Heathcliff continued between punctuated breaths, his hair separating into wild curls from the exertion.

"Mutually beneficial opportunities await our futures—." he felt the vampire tense beneath him as he efficiently neared a quick release, Tan's moans chorusing grotesquely with the weakly shrieking patient nearby. He worked through it, unfazed, a ghastly juxtaposition. "—so let's talk about them. Come to my estate. Setup a day with my lawyer to arrange an escort—" he let his breath catch up, "—to pick you up in Silvermoon." He finished roughly as he grunted out his closing with a demanding, strained voice: "Come quickly." Tan was moving with him to a crescendo, not sure or caring if he was still supposed to be writing but finally unable to do anything but drag the tip off the page in a long, aching spill.

It was mailed the next day.

@lillandyrshadowglade

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fangirl-life · 5 months ago

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Not So Quick Rory McCann movie vent/review

Spoilers below for those who want to watch The Damned. Truly, this will be long, so be warned. more of a vent session

I just got back from the movies and saw The Damned. Ever since I rekindled my celeb crush on Rory McCann, I'd been keeping track of his new projects. One I came across was this movie. He was highly billed in the cast, though it was a small cast. The trailer was also pretty compelling in and of itself and properly set the tone as a horror film.

At the end of the day, I am a horror fan, so I enjoyed the film and think its worth the watch. I got lucky because it has a minor release and only one theater in my city offered to show it.

The venting part is just me being disappointed in how little I'm seeing Rory lately and, more specifically, in this movie. That's it. I suspected that his character would get killed off at least half way through the film because, as mentioned, the cast is small so scenes throughout the trailer featured the entire cast except Rory's. His character Ragnar was only featured in the first 1/3 of the trailer. Trailers are a short summary of a film. I was thinking that, with him being such a noticeable person, there's no way he's not featured in the entire trailer unless he is actually not that important of a character or he died. With the cast being about a dozen people, I wagered that Ragnar died, to which I was correct. What I didn't suspect to happen would be that he'd die within the first 15 min. Usually characters that don't last that long in movies aren't even featured in trailers, but again, since the cast was small and he's more well known than most of the cast, it'd make sense that he was in it.

I went into the movie for more than just Rory, but lets be real, as a fangirl on Tumblr, I predominantly went for him. Luckily, the movie was pretty decent (It was really good, in my opinion except for the ending), so the initial disappointment of knowing he wouldn't be on screen anymore eventually dissipated. I will say that there were silhouettes or ambiguous (but obviously male) figures towards the end of the film that were supposed to be this supernatural creature in Icelandic and Nordic folklore that resembled his stature, so I wonder if he was technically still acting and featured in it until the end, just not as a Ragnar/a speaking role.

Part of this venting session stems from the pattern that, despite his experience and skill level with acting, he seems to get such small roles. More specifically, he seems to often die. Either the death makes the role short or its just a small role. I know he doesn't mind being type cast as an antagonistic character because he finds playing villains as fun, so I won't harp on that, but I just wonder if short roles are all he's able to get from his agents or hiring teams or if he genuinely just wants to stick to smaller stuff.

I haven't seen everything he's been in because its not all accessible to me, but especially recently/post GoT, you'd think his roles would get more prominent. They could still be lowkey/indie stuff as a way to mitigate living with fame, but he's been mostly supporting or lesser.

Playing the villain, Rory only appeared in 3 of 6 episodes of Knuckles with no segway into the new Sonic movie (maybe he died in the show). I read on Tumblr that his role in Jackdaw was about 2 min if I remember correctly. He's done voice work, of which I watched Vox Machina, and personally he didn't sound like himself to me and I didn't initially recognize him (which could be a good thing as an actor). His voice is distinctive, but his character in the show had a generic, domineering tone which Rory can easily do while still sounding like himself. For example, Lance Reddick's antagonistic character in the show did sound like him while still being domineering. He also only had like 1-2 min of total screen time in the new Gladiator movie. I'll take what I can get, bc it was a nice surprise to find that he was in the movie, but I feel like his roles in Slow West and XXX, though still supporting rather than main, featured his longest screen time post GoT. Maybe Jumanji too. That was almost ten years ago.

I don't know. At the end of the day, I'm happy he's getting steady work even if its not how most people would see as an advancement in a career. A career is what you make it. If you are making enough to be financially stable and content (which it seems like he is), then there's no need to accept a promotion and do more work if you don't want to. I also don't want to discount the main roles that he has earned. Though, according to Wikipedia, he has only been in top billed roles for TV 3 times and the last was a decade ago. Maybe he likes the extra time that smaller roles bring; maybe it allows him to sail more. That coupled with playing villains is probably perfect for him. I respect the privacy of his personal life, I just wonder if its by his choice or if production companies or his agents aren't getting him roles he deserves. I also just hate seeing actors in general get typecast when they seem to have the potential for more, especially for physical matters like looking different or ageism.

Getting crumbs as content to consume as a fan are the woes of being apart of a niche fandom like one of a non-mainstream actor. Good thing I love Pedro Pascal bc I get well fed in that fandom everyday. If you made it this far, sorry it was long and thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#Rory McCann #Movie Review #The Damned

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marvelous-llama · 2 years ago

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Tomorrow x Together recs

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, so please reblog and comment under works you like. Show love to the authors and appreciate their hard work

<<next chapters

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

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blue-banana-the-first · 2 years ago

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Annabeth Determined The Outcome of the Prophecy in the Last Olympian

I'll insert the prophecy real quick so I can talk about it,

"A Halfblood Of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds, and see the world in endless sleep. The hero's soul cursed blade shall reap. a single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze"

ok, now that we're caught up on that let's talk;

the first two lines are pretty simple and straight forwards in a way, it doesn't mention who the halfblood is as it takes account that it would depend on who survives and so on (the only thing consistent with the timeline that Rick did was make sure Jason and Hazel were both younger than Percy in HOO)

The third line also goes with Percy so far, so no need to talk more about it.

the fourth to sixth line though are different stories,

it mentions that a hero will die but never mentions who right? i wanna talk about it , in the second book we know Percy claims the prophecy for himself, and that's what's usually talked about, but i wanna focus on Annabeth.

In that same book Chiron makes Annabeth swear on the river Styx to protect Percy, we know that anything related to the Styx is also directly related to the fates.

trust the process please cause I promise this is kinda going somewhere.

in the battle of the labyrinth Pan tells Annabeth that she has an important role, just not in the way she thinks.

then in the fifth book Percy dips into the Styx, gets the Achilles heel, imagining Annabeth, which is romantic but also correlates with Annabeth swearing on that same river to protect him as if a subconscious part of her was also protecting him so he can survive the river, like the river was just using her promise to protect him.

the fates were really pulling all the romantic strings to save Olympus

kinda ironic cause they gave out this prophecy in the first place

In the Last Olympian, two cursed blades attack Luke and Percy, the Scythe for Percy and the Dagger Luke gave Annabeth which is cursed with a broken promise and all that angsty poetic stuff.

Guess who makes the decision tho?

Annabeth, she decided who the hero is

she took that knife for Percy, because she felt like he was in danger, we talk about that being because she's his mortal tether, but i also think it has to do with her swearing on the river to protect him.

River Styx was their main shipper and I will die on that hill.

Annabeth saved Percy due to her promise, and let Luke die with his broken one (somewhat of a deep quote right?), Annabeth's role has been to decide who the hero is and I can't get over that.

The single choice she made to save Percy or not was the deciding factor in this war.

Either Luke or Percy was going to die by a cursed blade, you can also say that in a way Chiron also had a hand in it, making her swear on the river.

but it just blew my mind, Percy's existence brought the world to its near end while hers saved it

ofcourse that is not 100% accurate but for the sake of it sounding tumblr level poetic it is

idk if you all already made this conclusion a while ago and i'm just slow, but even if i just think that this series was just so beautifully tied together, and Annabeth is so valid for this, emotional, nerdy, literal puppy (not all puppies are overly enthusiastic creatures ) with so much live to give, saved the world with the power of love ( and a childhood crush)

She literally deserves so much, i also wanna talk about Aphrodite in a future post

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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Lavender - Ch. 30

You, Joel and Ellie come to new understandings following Tess' death. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-29 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None for this chapter! No use of Y/N. Whole fic is violent and smutty so Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 4.7k

“Should stop here for the night,” Joel said.

It was the first thing any of you had said in hours. The sun was setting, the woods around you were stilling.

You’d made it a few miles outside the city, the three of you trudging more than walking. You were glad that Ellie had been quiet. It wasn’t her usual way and you really didn’t want her pushing Joel’s buttons, not right that moment. You only really needed to get through the next day with him, that was all. Even though thinking of everything after that made your chest hurt.

The two of you followed Joel off the trail to a level patch of ground. He dropped his pack and just looked at you for a moment.

“Need a minute,” he said eventually, stalking off in the woods.

“Shouldn’t have just left her like that,” Ellie muttered, plopping down by a tree and leaning back against it with a sigh.

“There’s nothing we could have done,” you said quietly. She looked at her own arm, which you’d patched up once you were clear of the city. “Ellie.” She looked at you. “You couldn’t have fixed her. It’s not on you. None of this is on you.”

She tensed her jaw and looked back down at her arm. You sighed.

It wasn’t Ellie’s fault but it was yours. You sat down, away from Ellie, and leaned back against a tree, closing your eyes. If you weren’t so fucking useless out here…

You saw the infected go for Joel and you’d just reacted. Shooting it probably hadn’t been smart but it had been instinctual. He was in danger. It didn’t matter that Joel would have been better at handling it than you, you had a gun and you could handle it now, you could kill it or draw it away from him and that’s what mattered. For a second, you forgot that you had to protect Ellie, too. For a second, you’d only been worried about him.

And then the gun jammed.

All you’d been able to do was watch the clicker come for you and throw Ellie out of the way. You hadn’t thought to try to reach your knife after you threw her, didn’t have any other option but to try to hold the clicker back, you weren’t strong enough to shove it off you. Its snarling, gnashing teeth and fungus enveloped face were inches from your skin when Ellie hurled herself at it, her insignificant weight nothing when compared to the large, now inhuman body that was crushing yours. Tess had been all but forced to step in, knocking the thing away from you. All because you’d been fucking stupid.

In hindsight, your last conversation with Tess made infinitely more sense.

You’d sent Joel and Ellie on ahead - wanting to put distance between both of them and the museum - while you worked on Tess’ ankle.

“Let me know if what I’m doing hurts,” you said, gently taking off her battered boot. “The goal is to make sure we can get you to walking comfortably. We’ll see if the Fireflies have something that can set you up better for a long trip…”

She looked you over for a moment, her back against the building as you checked her ankle.

“Shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she said. You glanced up at her. “That day, at the clinic. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

You shrugged, going back to work.

“Wasn’t like I was being a particularly nice person,” you replied. “I deserved it.”

She looked at you again.

“He did it to protect you,” she said. You looked up from her ankle. “Joel insisting on taking Andrew. He did it to protect you. The raiders were getting bad and the worst thing a raider will do to a man is kill him. Maybe torture him first if he’s got something they’re after but shot quick is how it goes. Women they take. He wasn’t willing to risk that, not with you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked after a moment, grabbing a bandage from your pack and starting to wrap her ankle now that it was properly aligned.

“Because he’s too much of a fucking idiot to tell you himself,” she said. “He’s always been an idiot when it comes to you. He’s my best friend, he’s been my best friend for a decade and a half and one of the most consistent things about the man is that he’s a fucking idiot when it comes to you.”

“Are you sure he’s not just an idiot when it comes to most things?” You teased, glancing up at her, but her face was serious. You frowned, pausing your work, holding her ankle. “Tess, are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m just tired of him fucking things up with you. If everything is going to change then you should at least know that he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. He was trying to protect you.”

You sighed and went back to wrapping her ankle. When you finished the job, you helped her put her boot back on, tying the top as snug as she could bare to help support the wrap.

“At least you’re going to have at truck and you won’t be walking it to wherever the hell Tommy wound up,” you said, helping her to her feet. “And now you have a great excuse to just make Joel drive the whole way…”

She smiled grimly at that. You took a few practice steps with her to make sure her feet were under her before you started going over the board, Tess taking the crossing one slow step at a time.

When you were both across, she looked at you again.

“I feel like if things had been different, you and I would have been friends,” she said. And then she frowned. “Or better friends, I guess. You’re kind of the closest thing I have to a friend besides Joel.”

“Me too,” you half smiled at her. “We can always try now. Bit hard given everything but…”

“You still care about him,” she said. “Don’t you?”

You frowned at her.

“Are you sure, you’re OK?” You asked.

“Doc.”

“Yeah,” you looked straight ahead. “I’m always going to care about him, I’m always going to love him…”

She nodded before cutting you off.

“I need a favor,” she said, stopping in the street and looking at you. You stopped, too, your frown deepening. “If… If something happens to me, I need you to make sure he’s OK.”

“Tess, I’m not exactly a survivalist…” you replied but she shook her head.

“Not that way, he’ll be fine that way,” she said. “He needs someone. Right now, I’m who he has but he can’t survive without both of us. He needs someone. If something happens to me you need to make sure he’s OK.”

“Tess…” You were going to fight her on it. Tell her that you were pretty sure he didn’t WANT you to be someone to him, but she didn’t let you.

“Promise me.”

You sighed but she squared her jaw and fixed her eyes on you, like she was ready for a fight.

“Promise me!”

“OK!” You said quickly. “OK, I’ll make sure he’s OK. I’ve come running to patch him up enough times. I think you know that I’m always going to try to make sure he’s OK.”

She looked relieved.

“Good,” she nodded, a sense of finality to it, and she headed for the statehouse.

She had known, of course. She’d been bitten and she had hours left, at best. And she’d tried to make sure Joel was going to be OK.

How the fuck were you supposed to make sure Joel was OK?

He eventually returned from wherever he’d gone, still silent. He sat against a tree. After a bit, you went in your bag and got out what food you had. You gave some to Ellie, who crinkled her nose a bit at it, and tried to hand some to Joel. He just stared at it.

“You’ve got to eat something,” you said. He looked up at you. You wanted to apologize but didn’t want to push him too far. “It’s been a long day.”

He took it. You sat down again.

It was so quiet you could hardly bear it, Ellie eventually sighing and laying down, using her backpack as a pillow. Joel got up and draped his jacket over her before turning to you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice flat. “I’ll keep watch. Won’t be able to sleep anyway.”

“Joel,” you said softly. He just shook his head.

It wasn’t a restful night for you. Your dreams were filled with snarling, inhuman things that were always outside your control but never outside someone else’s. When you jerked awake, the sun was just starting to rise, the horizon blood red and purple.

Ellie was still asleep under a tree, her face tight. She probably wasn’t sleeping well, either. Joel was sitting, back to you, on a log.

You quietly got into your bag and found the notebook you’d tucked your pictures into. You found the one with Tess before heading for Joel.

He glanced up at you when you went to join him but didn’t say anything.

“I’m really sorry, Joel,” you said quietly. He sniffed, staring straight ahead. “She really cared about you. I know you cared about her…” You weren’t sure what to do with the gnawing guilt inside you, just that you couldn’t give it to him. “I’m here, if you need it.”

You handed him the picture. He looked at it and it hurt too much to be beside him then.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you said. You didn’t wait for a response, desperate to put some space between you and Joel while you could get it.

***

“Where’s Doc?”

The kid’s voice was sleepy. The sun was fully up now.

“Said she’d be back soon,” he said gruffly.

“Oh,” she slumped back against the tree, the hair that had come out of her ponytail frizzy and wild around her face. She looked down at her lap, frowning for a second before looking back at him. “Want your jacket back?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t particularly feel like saying anything. The kid just sighed heavily, got up and brought him the jacket, dropping it on his pack before stomping back toward the tree she’d slept against. He ground his teeth.

Where the fuck were you?

He wasn’t sure what time it was. He wasn’t great at gauging how much time had passed since you’d left camp that morning. His mind wasn’t quite keeping up with things. He’d looked at the picture of Tess for a long time. She looked happy there. Happier than she ever really looked in the years he’d known her.

“About Tess,” the kid said.

“Don’t want to hear it,” he snapped.

“Well that’s too damn bad,” she snapped back. “It sucks that she’s dead but it’s not my fault and it’s not Doc’s. You and Tess decided to take us, we didn’t make you and Marlene didn’t make you. So don’t blame us because shit got bad. It’s not our fault so don’t pretend like it is.”

He just looked at her for a moment. She was right. He knew she was right. But then, he hadn’t planned on blaming either of you, anyway. No, this fell on him.

Him, stepping on the fucking glass. Him, not able to kill the damn thing before you intervened. Him, giving you a gun that jammed. Him, not able to get to you in time so Tess stepped in.

Him failing, failing, failing. Tess dying.

You came out of the trees, arms crossed tightly over yourself.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice gruff. “We’ve got about a five hour hike ahead of us.”

Joel led the way. Ellie had, apparently, decided one day of quiet was enough and started asking questions.

Mercifully, most of them were directed at you. The kid had never been out in nature before and it seemed like she had every fucking question in the world about it.

“So why haven’t we seen more animals?”

“How old are these trees, anyway?”

“Why was it just humans and not deer and shit who got infected?”

It was almost like watching you teach a class. You patiently answered all her questions, making sure she understood the root concepts you were using to respond to her. Part of her, it seemed, was just hungry to be acknowledged, have her thoughts recognized and understood. He could understand that. Sympathize with it.

And then she turned to the more personal questions.

“So,” she turned at walked backwards, facing the two of you. “Who’s Tommy?”

She raised her eyebrows, almost singing his name. Like she was trying to get under your skin. You groaned.

“It really doesn’t matter,” you said.

“I mean I think it does since you were apparently fuck…”

“What have I said about language?” You cut her off.

“That you don’t like swearing in your classroom and that there are appropriate times to swear,” the kid said matter-of-factly. “But we’re not in your classroom and that seemed appropriate to me.”

“Ellie,” you sighed.

“What?” She said. “C’mon, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!”

“He hadn’t been my boyfriend in a very long time,” you replied. “There was no reason he would have told me where he was going. He would have been more likely to tell Joel…”

“Joel,” her nose crinkled. “Why.”

“He’s my brother,” he ground his teeth.

“Ohhhhh,” she said, turning back around to face forward again. “So THAT’S how you know each other, OK…”

“That’s not…” you began and then seemed to think better of it. But you didn’t stop yourself fast enough for Ellie.

She turned back around.

“So how DO you know each other then,” she asked.

“Why do you want to know?” Joel asked, before looking at you. “Kids always ask this many questions?”

You just raised your eyebrows at him.

“If I’m going to be traveling with you two for a while…” Ellie began.

“Just goin’ to Bill and Frank’s,” Joel cut her off.

“Whatever,” she waved him off. “I’m the one stuck traveling with you two and you’ve got some kind of problem with each other. Kinda shitty for me to have to tiptoe around a problem when I don’t even know what the problem is.”

She just looked at you both, brows raised, thumbs looped through her backpack straps. You glanced at Joel. He sighed.

“Knew each other before,” he said eventually.

“Like you were friends?” She asked.

Joel ground his teeth.

“We were friends,” you replied.

“Just friends.” She sounded skeptical. You glanced at him again and it was a long enough pause that her mouth formed a small “o” before she started to laugh. “And you went out with his brother! Man, Doc, who knew you had it in you…”

You groaned. Joel resisted the urge to smile. Maybe the kid’s questions weren’t ALL bad.

“So is that how you got that scar on your head?” She asked Joel. “Get punched by your brother over a girl?”

She was teasing him. He ground his teeth.

“No,” he said, looking for something to say. He had never even told you what happened, certainly wasn’t about to tell some fuckin’ kid. “Someone shot at me and missed.”

“Did you shoot him?” She asked, voice serious again.

“No,” he replied. “I missed, too. Happens more often than you’d think.”

“Because you suck at shooting?”

Joel glared at her. She just rolled her eyes, facing forward again.

Joel led the three of you to a gas station that had become a hiding spot for supplies between Boston and Lincoln. Ellie went deeper inside while you looked over the shelves, not that there was much left. You picked up an old magazine, idly flipping through it.

“Anything good?” Joel asked.

“JLo and Ben Affleck called off their wedding,” you said, turning a page. “Too bad, too. Thought those kids were going to make it…”

Joel snorted.

It took Joel a second to find just where he’d stashed things, but an overturned shelf was on it now.

“Help me move this,” he called you over. You just nodded and picked up one side of it, getting it just far enough that he could access the floorboard. He kicked aside some of the remains from the shelf - mostly trash - but stopped when he noticed you staring down at something.

You’d all but frozen where you stood, a granola bar wrapper crumpled on the floor. You looked like you were about to cry.

“You OK?” He frowned.

“Fine,” you said quickly, picking up the wrapper and booking it for the door. “Just need some air, I’ll be outside.”

Joel looked toward the door Ellie had gone through for a moment before going after you.

You were pacing the parking lot, looking at the fucking wrapper. You were crying.

“Hey,” he said. Your head snapped up. You sniffed and wiped your tears, trying to hide it. “What’s going on.”

“Nothing,” your voice was thick.

“Not nothing.” He nodded to the wrapper. “Why’s that upset you.”

“Just haven’t seen one of these in 20 years, that’s all,” you said, not looking directly at him.

“Never seen you cry over trash before,” he said. “Why’s it upset you.”

“These stupid things are all I could eat when I was pregnant, OK?” You said quickly, almost angrily. But then you looked up at him, almost like you were scared of what he’d say. “I’m sorry, I know it’s… it’s a sore subject but… I had just fucking awful morning sickness, I couldn’t hold down anything but Clif bars and I haven’t seen them in 20 years and I hadn’t thought about that in so long and… It’s probably the reason I wasn’t infected to begin with, these were all I was eating. It’s what me and Andrew survived on, I had a whole stash at the house that I brought with me… It just caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

He just stood there, looking at you for a moment, the wrapper still in your fingers. He realized then that he’d actively avoided picturing you at that time. What it would have been like for you to make your way to Boston 20 years ago, especially knowing all that he knew now. But he imagined that you would have looked then much like you did now - small, vulnerable, scared. Part of you hurting and trying to hide it. It made his heart ache.

“Can I hold you?” He asked. Your eyes met his, surprised.

“You don’t have to…” you said, but he shook his head.

“I want to,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”

You didn’t say anything. You just kept your eyes on him and moved slowly, cautiously, until your face was against his chest, his chin on top of your head. His arms went around you, pulling you tightly to him. He could feel you breathing like this, the shuddering of you against him as you cried. He cradled your head to his chest and breathed you in, the last of the smell of your shampoo clinging to your hair through the wilderness and smoke and sweat.

“Ew!” Ellie came stomping outside a few minutes later. “See, this is why I needed to know what the problem was, apparently can’t leave you two alone for five fucking minutes…”

You pulled back from him, still sniffing a bit but no longer crying. You tucked the wrapper in your pocket.

“What, Gremlin? Want a hug, too? Feeling left out?” You smiled at her, your arms out. Ellie backed away, shaking her head, trying not to smile. “Come on…”

You drew the last word out and jumped at her, making her yelp and laugh before hiding behind a dilapidated gas pump. Joel felt himself smile a little before he realized he was doing it as he went inside to find his things.

“Are Bill and Frank nice?” Ellie asked as they neared Lincoln.

“Frank is,” Joel muttered. “Bill’s… Bill.”

“I’m surprised you don’t get alone with him better, honestly,” you said, looking up at Joel. He frowned. “Birds of a feather and all that.”

“Oh so Bill’s an asshole,” Ellie nodded sagely. “Got it.”

You snorted. Joel glared at you. You smiled a little back at him. It felt almost normal, almost like how life had been before. He’d missed it.

Lincoln was oddly quiet when the three of you arrived. Joel glanced down at you and he knew you felt it, too, a slight frown on your face. He waved to the camera but didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he just keyed in the code Bill had given him.

“Don’t leave the fenced area,” he ordered Ellie. “Not only are there sometimes infected and raiders in the woods, Bill’s got the perimeter booby trapped to hell and back…”

“Right, stay in town and don’t go looking for any fucking clickers,” she rolled her eyes. “Got it.”

Joel kept his weapon drawn as he made his way toward the house, looking behind him to make sure you’d shut the gate and were following, too.

He realized then some of what had made him uneasy. The plants in the planters had gone brown and were drooping. The grass was yellowing. Things that Frank never would have let happen.

“Shit,” he muttered. He looked behind him again. “Stick close.”

He knocked, hard, on the front door. There was no response but it was unlocked. He let himself in.

“Frank?” He yelled. “Bill?”

There were still plates on the table, the remains of the food rotting.

“Ugh,” Ellie crinkled her nose.

You frowned, going for the kitchen. You opened the fridge.

“Definitely been a bit since they were here,” you said. “Probably a week at least, you know how Bill was with cooking and labeling things…”

Joel started peering through the house, searching for some sign of where they’d gone, when they might return…

“Hey guys?” Ellie called from the dining room. He got to the room at the same time as you. Ellie was sitting at the table, her legs propped up on another chair. She held up a piece of paper and you frowned, going to look over her shoulder. “It said ‘to whomever but probably Joel’ so… I figured I was allowed to open it.”

He came to her shoulder as well. She looked up at the two of you before she started reading.

“If you find this… please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight.

“I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe. Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway… I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends… almost. And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him.

“That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”

You were gone before she could say Tess’ name. Ellie just looked up at him, her eyes wide. Almost like she wanted to say she was sorry but wasn’t sure how.

He took the letter from her and went outside, too. He looked for you for a moment and caught a glimpse of you heading for the pharmacy. He took a deep breath, looking down at the paper again, remembering what you’d said about him and Bill. That they were the same.

He may have been different once, back when he first fell in love with you. Back when he felt capable of it. He’d become more like Bill since then. But there were still small glimpses of who he’d been before, of the man who thought that life was worth it. They were almost all with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Tess. He did. There was a knot in his chest, knowing that he’d failed her. If he could have changed it, traded places with her, he would have. In a heartbeat. And the world would have been better for it.

But she wasn’t who he was here to save. She never had been, and both of them had known it.

He still felt it when he held you. That there was something he’d been built for, made to do: protect you. Before, that meant picking you up after a shitty date with a bad guy or making sure you didn’t overdo it when you got your appendix out. It had meant lifting your suitcase onto the scale at the airport when you flew home because he didn’t want you moving something heavy. Now, it was different. Now, it meant killing what scared you or threatened you.

Now, it meant getting you and an immune girl across a wasteland of infected and raiders in one piece.

He poked his head back in the house and found Ellie, now standing at the piano.

“Stay in the house,” he ordered, before going to find you.

He found you quickly. You were in the pharmacy, rifling through the shelves. Because Bill had locked down the town so early, there was still plenty left. Almost everything you hadn’t taken after FEDRA had stopped producing certain things was still there, minus what Bill and Frank had used through the years.

You turned and jumped when you saw him, your hand going to your heart.

“Scared me,” you said. Your eyes were shiny with tears, rimmed in red.

“You OK?” He asked. You just nodded, going back to sorting through medications, your back to him. “Hey,” he said after a minute. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you said, turning to face him. You leaned back against the counter behind you, your fingers digging into it so hard your knuckles were white. “I fucked up, I got her killed…”

“No,” he shook his head. “You didn’t.”

“If I’d just…”

“Not your fault,” he said again. His voice was gentle, his eyes wide and you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to look at him. You were looking at a half empty shelf of drugs instead, your cheeks wet.

You took a deep, shaky breath, before actually looking at him.

“I’m going to get her there,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady. “I’m not sure how yet but I can take a few days here, make a plan…”

“I’m taking you,” he cut you off. You frowned at him.

“Joel, no,” you shook your head. “No, I can’t ask you…”

“You’re not,” he replied. “I’m tellin’ you. You’re not doing this just you and her, you’ll get yourselves killed and then what the fuck would be the point. I’m takin’ you.”

You took a deep breath and he could tell that you were getting ready to argue with him so he cut you off.

“I already need to find Tommy,” he said. “Come with me. He knows where the lab is, right? You said he tried to get you to come there, said it was nice? We’ll find him, he can get you to the lab.”

You looked at him for a moment, eyes still glistening.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Joel,” you whispered.

“Then let me get you there,” he said softly, stepping closer to you until he was right in front of you. “Don’t make me lose you, too.” He could feel the heat of you against him, could smell your skin. You looked up at him for a moment before you just nodded and pressed your face into his chest. He put his arms around you for the second time that day.

“I’m going to get you there,” he said. “I promise.”

A/N: About to get on the road to Kansas City! As an FYI, we're going to get some stuff fairly in line with canon through that, then have a stretch of all OC shit for a bit. I hope everyone is enjoying this weird smushing it together thing I'm doing because I'm having fun with it!

I have a taglist, please comment below if you'd like to be added or if you've already asked but I slacked off and didn't add you like a chump.

Thank you, as always, for reading and spending time with these characters and my work! All your love for it has made this such a joy to share and I couldn't love you more!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings @arizonadaydreamer @mumma-moonchild @blackroseguzzi @candypeaches16 @kittenlittle24 @wrappedinfiction @oatmeaiboy @pedritosdarling @winchestergypsy90 @imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #enemies to friends to lovers

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raccoonfallsharder · 1 year ago

Note

I’m really excited for your “drink some goddamn water” chapter because water has all of the sudden become too boring for me to drink. I’ve been drinking everything except water because it just isn’t stimulating enough. My anti-depressants sure are anti-ing my depression, but it makes my adhd way worse.

✩࿐࿔ drink some goddamn water [new 12/10]

smut-free| no use of y/n | gn reader | drabbles | word count: 1,209.

✩࿐࿔ take what you need.

࿔ eat somethin. at least grab a frickin’ snack. (wc: 576) ࿔ go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737) ࿔ get outta bed & get your shit done. & stop doomscrolling (wc: 925) ࿔ take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375) ࿔ leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579) ࿔ take a fuckin study break. (wc: 1,020) ࿔ drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209) ࿔ stop destroying your frickin clothes. [est 12/19] ࿔ just buy the damn thing already. ࿔ did you take your meds today?

how much water you should drink depends on your body mass, activity level, and the amount of hydration you get through other foods and beverages - but you almost certainly need more than you're drinking. this is your sign to go hydrate, babe.

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based, meant to take place post-volume 3, but headcanon however you want ♡

“You all right, kid?” Goddammit. The Captain’s caught you squeezing the spot between your brows, eyelids crushed closed and forehead creased. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say quickly, with a pale attempt at a nonchalant smile. His nose twitches and he eyes you consideringly, leaning against the wall. “Busy day?” It has been. Trying to balance maintaining some semblance of a life you can go back to on Terra – just in case – with your admittedly-far-more-enjoyable Knowhere responsibilities always feels like the equivalent of at least two full-time-jobs. Plus, regular life-stuff doesn’t stop either. There’s still laundry to do and an apartment to keep clean. “So busy,” you deadpan. Rocket is being awfully empathetic right now – which usually means he has an agenda. “Did you need something?” He raises a brow. “What, I can’t just check in on my favorite local Terran?” You snort. “It’s a well-documented fact that I am currently the only local Terran, dude.” He shrugs. “All the more reason to check in. You’re practic’ly frickin’ endangered out here.” “Well, thanks for your care and concern,” you say dryly. “I’m fine.” “Really?” His second brow joins the first and his tail flicks – annoyed, or entertained. You can’t tell for sure. “‘Cause you look like you got a headache.” You sigh and flick off your datapad, then slide away from the empty bar. “I just need to get some more caffeine,” you tell him tiredly. “Uh-uh,” he says cynically. “I don’t think so. Sit down. I’ll make you a drink.”