#m. bison (mentioned)

[jamiemak0]

What are your gender & sexuality headcanons for the OG Shadaloo kings, Bison, Sagat, Vega and Balrog? :3

pt2 of my street fighter headcanons (shadaloo version)

as usually these are my headcanons !

balrog; he/him, straight ally

vega; he/him, bisexual

sagat; he/him, gay mlm

m bison; he/him, transgender (he’s a kaiseth hater fr 💀)

pt1 is here for those who are curious.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[joelalorian]

Lost Cause

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI; Jackson-era Joel; canon-ish but also not; drinking; mentions of cigarettes, drugs, dark thoughts, and death; unprotected p in v; oral (m and f receiving); interesting use of red wine; unspecified age gap; despair and hope.

Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

Word count: 2,594 oneshot

The hits just kept coming. Time after time, year after year, life just beat Joel Miller down. It started when he was young, always taken down a peg by someone who was supposed to love him unconditionally, no matter how hard he tried to build himself up. There was a brief respite when he had Sarah – those fourteen years were the happiest of his life, despite the sudden and unexpected nature of becoming a father so young, until it was all ripped away in the blink of an eye on that one horrific day.

Since then, he’d given up hoping for more. Life had completely shattered his hopes and dreams. He couldn’t even put himself out of his own misery, for fuck’s sake. Life hated him that much it wouldn’t even release its grasp on him. He was so damaged beyond repair, and he could do fuck all about it.

His latest hit was a sucker punch to the gut, though.

Just when he finally opened up his heart again, when he allowed himself to feel something other than misery again, that’s precisely when the hit came.

Ellie – sweet, feral child that she was – wanted nothing to do with him after finding out the truth of what happened to the Fireflies in Salt Lake City.

The fracture in his relationship with Ellie sent him spiraling out of control, resorting to old behaviors and vices – drinking too much at the Tipsy Bison, smoking pilfered cigarettes out back behind the bar, taking pills on the rare occasions he could get his hands on them. The nightmares returned no matter how blasted he got to chase them away and he was often moody from lack of sleep.

Joel still contributed to society in Jackson, but he did it in ways that he could keep to himself. Fixing things around town, building stuff in his workshop, taking the odd patrol shift with his brother. He avoided everyone but Tommy and Maria, and Ellie, if she didn’t flee from the very sight of him.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. What the fuck? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Because it almost worked!” Tommy was worked up, laying into Joel at the tail end of their patrol shift. He didn’t know if his older brother had a death wish or was just too hungover to pay proper attention, but Joel was nearly taken out by a clicker while they cleared their route. A clicker that he normally would have dispatched without much effort or thought. Joel cut it way too close this time.

Joel gazed at his brother with baleful eyes. He had nothing to say for himself. He did have a death wish, but how could he tell Tommy that?

Tommy knew Joel was struggling – his behavior was similar to what it had been after Sarah died, when he became a fraction of the man he had been. “Come on, let’s grab a drink at the Bison,” Tommy sighed. At a loss on how else to help him, Tommy often accompanied Joel to the bar despite already thinking his brother drank too much.  At least he could keep an eye on him that way.

They made small talk on the way, Joel’s responses little more that grumbles and grunts. Something needed to give, but what? Tommy didn’t know, but he sent up silent prayers for a miracle to save his brother.

Once they were seated at one end of the bar, Tommy ordered a round. “Joel, brother, what is going on, really? Is it just the thing with Ellie or something more?”

Two sets of deep brown eyes stared at each other for long moments, each waiting for the other to flinch or look away. Joel gave in first, clearing his throat, unable to meet his brother’s eyes as he spoke. “It’s… everythin’, Tommy. It feels like somethin’ inside me is broken, somethin’ that was just starting to repair itself until this thing with Ellie shattered it again.”

Tommy’s heart clenched. Life had done Joel dirty, even before the outbreak, and it seemed like it finally broke him beyond repair. “I know it ain’t been easy, not with… well, everything. Do you… would you ever consider talking to someone about it all? Like a professional, I mean. I know we got someone here who used to be a counselor.”

Brows pinched together, Joel’s stormy eyes glared at the bar top, avoiding Tommy’s searching gaze. “Fuck, no! I don’t want a stranger diggin’ into my psyche or whatever the hell they do, just so they can tell me I have daddy issues or some such shit. And talkin’ ‘bout it don’t help none, either. I’m talking to you and it ain’t doing shit but pissin’ me the hell off!”

“Damn, alright! Don’t gotta get all caveman on me.” Tommy held his hands up with a blatant roll of his eyes. His brother never did like the touchy feely shit and he should have known better than to bring it up. “Maybe you just need a sweet lil’ thing to take your mind off shit.”

That got Joel to laugh for the first time in a long while. “Oh yeah? You think getting my dick wet will solve everythin’?”

Tommy smirked. “Well, not everything. You’ll still be you afterwards. I’d pity whatever poor girl got stuck with you, honestly. But it couldn’t hurt none, right?” It was good to see his brother grin, nose and corners of eyes crinkling with the broadness of it, and they fell into a comfortable silence while people watching. Sudden movement at the entrance caught Tommy’s attention and Joel followed his eyeline.

You walked in with Maria, the pair of you had your heads tilted toward each other giggling madly about something. While Tommy only had eyes for Maria, Joel drank in the sight of you. New to Jackson, you arrived with a small group a few weeks ago and, while you were still settling in, you were eager to meet people and get involved in helping around town. Maria took an instant liking to you, and you spent a lot of time with her, quickly becoming part of the Miller group.

Catching a glimpse of his brother staring at you, Tommy slapped Joel’s back. “Speaking of a sweet lil’ thing. Maybe this is your chance, brother.” Joel scoffed in return. Girls like you don’t go for guys like him, at least not the guy he was now. It was the law of nature or some shit.

“Hey boys,” Maria greeted, taking a seat next to Tommy. With a knowing glint in her eye and an exaggerated wink, she gestured for you to sit next to Joel. You never should have mentioned to her how handsome you found Joel. She was becoming a menace with her not-so-subtle methods of teasing and pushing the two of you closer at every opportunity.

“Hi Joel.” You slipped onto the stool next to him, one hand placed on his shoulder for balance as you did so.

“Hey darlin’. Whatcha drinking?” he grunted, fighting to ignore the burning heat of your touch. When was the last time a woman touched him? It must have been Tess and that was… a long time ago.

“I’ll take a red wine. Cabernet or pinot noir, whichever kind is available, please.”

After relaying your request to the bartender, and with his brother’s attention focused solely on Maria, Joel turned his attention back to you. He was a miserable sod, but you were a beautiful woman – he’d be a fool to ignore the attention you paid him. “How are you settlin’ in?”

“Pretty good. This is some community.” You launched into a few stories about mishaps and people you’ve met so far, drawing a few chuckles from Joel with your interpretation of some of the townsfolk. You had a way about you that drew him out of shell of melancholy.

One drink quickly became two, then three, and before either of you knew it, Maria and Tommy left and the two of you were alone at the bar. The wine buzz left you feeling bold and brave, making a move you would not have normally.

“Do you want to go back to my place for a nightcap?”

“Darlin’,” Joel sighed, brows pinched, at once drifting back under the dark cloud of hopelessness and unable to meet your heated gaze. “You don’t want to waste your time on me. I’m a lost cause.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what and who I waste my time on,” you challenged.

Joel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at your tenacity. You were a beautiful young woman and for some unfathomable reason you were interested in him. He had absolutely nothing to offer someone like you, except for a one-night stand, at best. He was good at those – they didn’t require deep connections or feelings, two things he was avoiding like the plague. Maybe Tommy was on to something though – sex would take his mind off his miserable existence for a bit.

“Okay then. Let’s get outta here,” he replied, downing the last of the amber liquid in his glass, and leading you out of the bar with a large, warm hand at your lower back.

The journey to your house was cold and quiet and you began to wonder if you’d made a huge error in judgement. You weren’t a one-night stand kind of girl, preferring the comfort and security of relationships instead, but something told you that this would be the only way you’d get to have Joel. There was a darkness about him, a deep residing mass of regret and remorse, and you felt a burning need to fix him, to be his sunshine, even if only for a little bit.

Your hands fumbled with the latch when you finally reached your house. The warmth of Joel’s large hands suddenly overwhelmed your senses as he helped you, and you were flinging yourself at him before the door even closed behind you.

His kisses were anything but tender, all harsh presses of his lips, teeth, and tongue, like he was a man starved. There would be marks left on your tender skin come morning, but you didn’t mind, giving him the same treatment as you sucked at his neck, soothing your tongue over the spots you just sunk your teeth into.

“I have a bottle of wine. Do you want some?” you breathed against his lips, taking a moment to slow the momentum before the pair of you spontaneously combusted.

A smirk crossed Joel’s lips as an idea struck him. “Sure, why not.” He watched you open the bottle and pour two glasses before returning to him. Accepting one of the stemless glasses, he clinked it against yours before taking a sip. The momentum picked right back up after that first taste of the dark liquid.

Fingers frantically working to undo the buttons on Joel’s flannel with one hand, you walked backwards up the stairs to your bedroom, pulling him along with you without a spare thought about the wine spilled on the wood flooring as you went. Patience wearing thin, he tore your clothes from your body with his free hand, leaving you naked and yearning as you continued working on his shirt. Placing his glass of wine on the nightstand, his hands were everywhere, he could not get enough of your smooth, soft skin.

You were the antithesis of him, bright and bubbly where he was dark and brooding, soft where he was hard, adaptable and happy where he was rigid and sad. You were ripe like fresh fruit ready for plucking. You were everything he wish he could still be. Perhaps he could get just a brief taste of happiness being with you, inside you.

Once his jeans and boots were shed, Joel tossed you onto the bed, watching with hungry eyes as your tits bounced with the movement. He was on you in a flash, hands and mouth exploring every inch of your body. Sharp teeth scraped against your puckered nipples, making them impossibly harder, and the sensation shot a bolt of pleasure right down to your core, where the weight of his hardened cock rested, twitching for attention.

Nails scraped down his chest and belly until you reached his cock, slipping your slender hand around the heft of him. He was huge – both long and thick, a combination you’d not experienced before, and your mouth watered with the desire to taste him. If you only had one night together, you wanted to make it a memorable experience.

It took great effort to get Joel to detach his lips from your breasts, the whine that emanated from him as you did so had you downright aching for him.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” his deep voice rumbled, dark eyes rolling back in his head when you moved down his body and slipped your plush lips around the head of his cock. “Oh, fuck!”

After spending so long living in hell, your mouth felt like heaven as you licked and sucked on his length.

“Wait, doll, I wanna try somethin’.”

Sitting up against the aged headboard, Joel grasped the wine glass and brought it down to rest on his belly. Two thick fingers dipped into the dark red liquid and swirled, coating every bit of surface area from fingertip to second knuckle before he brought his drenched fingers down towards you. His hand hovered over his cock and you both watched as droplets of translucent ruby red liquid dripped onto his hardened flesh.

Your mouth watered as you watched him repeat the process, eager to taste the heady mix of the bitter tang of wine and his salty pre-cum. Ravenous, you slurped at the liquid trails running down the length of his cock before lapping at the bulbous head, leaving no hint of wine behind as you wrapped your lips around him.

Joel was a panting mess when you took him as far as you could, his weeping head hitting the back of your throat. The glass of wine was forgotten, slipping from his hand to stain the hardwood floor next to the bed. That was a tomorrow problem as you focused on devouring his beautiful cock. He was close to the edge within minutes, the sensations too much, and he pushed you off him none too gently, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

“My turn, darlin’,” Joel murmured, nestling his face between your legs. He’d been told that his current lifestyle was bad for his health, that all the drinking and smoking was hopeless. They weren’t wrong, but it felt like that was all he needed, the only thing that set him free from his sorrows. Now that he’d tasted you, he knew that was utter bullshit. You could so easily set him free if he got to have you, taste you every day. You were enough to change a man like him.

“Joel,” you mewled his name between long moans as his tongue teased at your clit, thick fingers exploring your folds before dipping inside you. He drew an orgasm from you effortlessly and you clawed at his back as the blinding flash of pleasure washed over you. “I need you inside me. Now. Please.”

He could refuse you nothing, shifting to hover over you. “Save me from myself,” he murmured against your lips as he sheathed himself inside your tight warmth. “You’re the only one who can.”

“Always,” you replied breathlessly, rocking your hips against his. Your mouths met in a kiss full of promise.

[ddddd-notpixels]

could they have chosen a cooler line-up tho

TERRY BOGARD?!?!!

[hurlumerlu]

This hasn't left my mind since @deliriousblue mentioned that Bison's behaviour in their first S&M talk must have looked pretty threatening from Kant's POV (x), and I don't know how to make gifs but I swear those two scenes are extremely similar, I swear! And so is Kant's body language! You have to believe me!

[youcancallmeelle]

We’ve got one thing in common, it’s this tongue of mine…

A prequel to She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Smoking of cigarettes, semi public sexual acts, oral sex (f&m receiving), blow job, mention of body hair & hair removal, cunnilingus (Joel is the king of eating pussy), nipple play (Joel likes boobs idk), mention of ovulation, sneaking around, mention of Ellie.

Summary: Joel seeks you out just like he’s always done and you’re thrilled, interrupted work break be damned. Or

Two clearly in love people fool around behind The Tipsy Bison.

AO3

Read below…

A Friday night is always particularly rowdy at The Tipsy Bison, with a larger crowd pouring in after working the stores on main street or serving dinner at the dining hall.

You’ve been on your feet for what feels like hours, making regular trips out into the seating area to collect empty glasses and bowls that house dried fruit and nuts, then washing and refilling those glasses and topping up the bar snacks.

Bar work is probably your least favourite on your work rotation, the only good thing is the socialising.

When Darius comes in to take over from Seth, the resident grump, he shoots you a sympathetic glance when he sees you standing against the wall, rubbing your lower back tiredly.

“Go for a break.” He orders, nodding towards the back doors.

“You sure you can manage for twenty minutes? It’s only gonna get busier.”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Go on, Seth is an asshole for keeping you here while he probably took multiple breaks.” He shakes his head, it’s true, in the time you and Seth had both been on shift, he’d taken three smoke breaks. “Here, for your troubles.” Darius pulls the rolled cigarette he’d had resting behind his ear and holds it out for you.

“Thanks.” You beam, taking it. “See you soon.” You promise, hastily making your exit through the back and out the fire escape door.

The door swings open and shuts with a ear piercing wail, the hinges are desperate to be oiled and you expect you’ll end up doing it instead of Seth or Darius. It’s unsurprising that men are still useless even after the outbreak, if you want a job doing right then do it yourself.

You wander down the alley, kicking up gravel as you go before slinking around the back and reaching for the resident shared lighter on the top of the broken air conditioning unit on the outside of the building.

You spark up the lighter, encasing the point of the cigarette in your mouth and inhaling so it begins to burn evenly.

It’s heavenly, the way the tobacco settles within you and you take another deep drag, closing your eyes and listening to the evening chatter within the commune.

The sky is darkening to blended shades of vermillion and saffron, the last time you’d been outside today it was bright blue, a true testament to how long you’d been working your bar shift today.

As you stand there, enjoying your gifted cigarette and the peace and quiet, you hear something over the sound of Alice Cooper’s Poison playing from inside.

There’s the familiar set of footsteps that your ears pick up first, belonging to a man with a hard stature and heart of gold. Then a low whistle and the hairs on your arms stand on edge, your hand trembles just so, some ash falling to the dirt as arms encase you from behind and pull you back into a hard chest.

You sigh happily when you feel scruff drag along your cheek and a small peck at the corner of your lips, you tip your head back, peering up into a set of dark eyes laced with a depth of hunger and a border of infatuation.

“Hi there.” You murmur, twisting around in the biceps encasing you, conscious of the lit cigarette in your hand.

Joel looks down at you, massaging your hips with his big hands; the same hands that have held his daughters and cradled you close just the same.

Ruthless; that’s how people in Jackson described him when he arrived back the second time. A killing machine, a no good man, trouble. You’d scoffed and brushed everyone off, choosing to formulate your own opinion and boy, were those gossipers wrong. Of course, they only see what they want to see, that hard exterior and scar running across his nose.

“Hey.” He whispers back, leaning down for a soft kiss, one that speaks a thousand words he’d struggle to articulate any other way just yet. “Where’d you get that?” Joel asks, nodding to your cigarette.

“Darius.” You reply, taking a small drag then offering it to him to finish. He takes it, inhaling and emitting a neat line of smoke. You watch in fascination, rubbing your palms over the broad width of his chest, plucking the material of his t-shirt. It’s black, more faded to the scale of grey than being the darkest shade of ink. Still, he looks delectable.

He has such a beautiful mouth, the first thing that had drawn you to him, then it was his voice - the smooth texan drawl that you absorbed like a plant during photosynthesis.

“You been out here long?” He wonders, you shake your head. “I thought maybe you weren’t working tonight, couldn’t remember what shifts you said you had this week but I came back here to check anyway.” Joel tells you, taking the last drag of the cigarette and crushing the butt against the brick wall behind him, encasing you back into his arms.

“That old man brain of yours.” You tease, standing on your tip toes to hunt for his mouth, he makes a noise at your soft insult but coincidentally melts into you as you kiss him like you hadn’t just seen him the previous afternoon. “How was your shift?” You inquire when you pull back, he chases your lips.

“Fine.” He supplies back in his texan drawl, fingers winding in your hair to tug you back into gravitation.

Joel had been on a wall shift since late morning, you’d remembered that much.

“Are you not cold?” You press, feeling his bare forearms and noticing the chill that he tends to feel in his older age. It’s spring now and you’re perfectly content working in denim shorts and a t-shirt, the bar gets stifling the more bodies that pack in over the course of the evening and into the night.

“Ellie has my jacket, she wanted to wear it to school today, she’s still a little anxious to be without me.”

Your chest warms at the confession; you’ve always loved observing them together. Anyone can see their bond but you can see how deep it runs, they’re almost always together, wether that be huddled close in the dining hall with her sometimes seeking refuge perched on his knee when it gets too busy for her to deal with and he’ll whisper things to her that make her smile timidly and lean into him, stealing bites of the dinner he offers even though it exactly the same as what she’s had and chosen to leave.

You’ve seen him give her his scarf in the street when she’s looked panicked and white in the face amongst the snow during last winter, you’d watched as she inhaled his smell and then fallen into his chest, hugging him tightly around the waist until she seemed grounded enough to walk home with him, tucked beneath his arm like a little bird. There’s a story there, you can decipher that much; one forged by fear and survival. Your chest had hurt at the fearful look in her eyes when a flurry of snow had began to fall, making contact with her rounded cheeks and causing her to flinch, almost sucking the last of her life out of her youthful complexion.

He’s her safety blanket - her protector - and when he’s not available to be that as himself, his jacket is the next best thing.

“Ah.” You murmur, lips curling at the sweet revelation. “Did you give her those parsnip chips I made?” It was a friendly offering, something you do regularly for her wether it be with food or things you find on patrol.

She’s none the wiser to the relationship you and Joel now have that’s strictly past paired patrol partners.

“Yep.” He replies, skating his palms over every inch of your skin, looping them around your elbows to pull you in.

“Did she like them?” You press further, evading him.

“Loved ‘em.”

“And did you like them, cowboy?” You lean out of reach and he snarls playfully, trying to tug you back.

“Well, from the one she let me have… yeah, they seemed good.” You snort at Ellie’s behaviour, unable to even be shocked at her unwillingness to share good snacks with Joel, it’s hilarious for some reason. “Mmm, laugh it up, I want my own batch next time and then I’m going to hide them on the highest shelf where she can’t reach.”

You continue giggling and his shoulders shake too, he takes advantage of you being distracted to continue kissing you, you sigh into his mouth, giggles ceasing.

You kiss him heartily, scrubbing your fingers through the grey patches in his beard and over the definition of his jaw. He moans into your mouth quietly, fingers fidgeting to grasp onto you.

He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours as you all but pant against his chin in hot puffs to compose yourself.

This is all still fairly new, barely a couple of weeks old but you don’t see yourself growing bored and neither does Joel. You feed off the thrill, seeking solace in one another to fill that void that has been empty for too long. It’s not that you don’t want people to know because you’re both embarrassed but it’s nice to have a little secret that you can greedily hold the reins to, something that’s yours.

It had all been sudden, everything had come to a head in the early hours of a Tuesday morning on overnight patrol. You’d stationed up together in a broken down and abandoned truck just a couple of meters in the forest, talking and drinking alcohol laced tea in the truck bed as you watched dawn break. One thing had led to another and you’d had sex, it was short but one of the most intimate experiences of your life.

“Can I come over tonight for a little bit? My gremlin child is sleeping over at Tommy’s, he’s taking her fishing tomorrow, it’s a reward for not skipping any classes this week.”

In the last few weeks, Joel has come over for a few hours once darkness has descended over Jackson. You haven’t slept together at your place or even in a bed at all, you instead steal moments on watchtower shift together where you ride him on the creaky deck chair with your back to his chest or on one occasion he’s sought you out during a greenhouse shift and bent you over the potting table in the shed.

When he comes over, which is most nights before Ellie comes home for curfew, you lie together on your couch with you pillowed on top of him. You make out like teenagers and talk and tease, sharing snippets of your life. He’s so easy to talk to, he’s an interesting specimen, full of wisdom and anecdotes. He’s told you stories of his first daughter, you imagine her green eyes and pretty curls in whatever story he’s content to retell, tracing the cracked face of his watch.

He’s always back before Ellie, sometimes way earlier than he needs to be just on the off chance she might have had a bad day and comes in early. It’s happened before, he’d got home after her and found her in hysterics on the couch just before dinner and had to lie about his whereabouts while trying to comfort her over a rough shift at the stables when a metal gate had clanged shut and suddenly she was back in a cage somewhere in Colorado. The accusatory where were you? she’d hiccuped in the middle of a panic attack had fucked him up real good and he vowed to be more careful.

“You can.” You hum, fiddling with the notch of his belt, his stomach tenses at your teasing. “But this - “ You grab the heft of his cock through his jeans, he growls immediately. “This has to stay in your pants.” You say firmly, peering up through your lashes with a devilish smirk.

“Why’s that?” His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, the tips slipping beneath the frayed edge of your shorts.

“Because I’m ovulating.” You answer, you swear his eyes darken ever so slightly.

“Mm, is that why you smell so good?” He grumbles, burying his nose in your throat after forcing your head back by your hair, he inhales deeply like you’re the very best drug he’s ever had. He gulps you in, behind your ear, at your pulse point and the hinge of your clenching jaw.

“Jesus, Joel.” You huff when his tongue dips into the hollow of your throat and his perfect teeth clip the edge of your jaw. Your pussy clenches and your clit throbs, as if your hormones weren’t already crazy enough at this part in your cycle without him inhaling your pheromones like a mad man.

He nudges the neckline of your t-shirt down by the rip in the collar, nosing at your clavicle and sucking a small bruise there like he’s marking you as his own. It’s so possessive, your underwear grows even damper at the thought.

“You taste good.” He mumbles into your skin, licking over the bruise then his long fingers are going up your shirt, bunching it above your bra where he then begins to press wet kisses to the swell of each breast, cupping you roughly. A nipple peeks over the unlined cup and he takes it into his mouth, sucking and pulling off with a wet pop to bite it gently and pull it between his teeth. He’s really into your tits, that had been learnt very quickly.

“Oh my god…” You pant, eyes scrunched shut, head tilted towards the cloudy sky as you pray to whoever for the strength to not beg Joel to take you there and then, to fill you with his potent warmth and leave it dripping all day to dip a finger down and taste the combination of you both. “Ow!” You hiss when he bites your nipple harder than you’re used to, you pull a curl of his hair in retaliation.

“Oopsie.” He grins unapologetically.

Somehow you possess the strength to push him back against the wall roughly, he grunts when his back connects to the brick but then you’re on him hungrily, crowding him against the surface.

Your hormones fizzle over and before you can even comprehend where you are, you decide you need his dick in your mouth immediately or you’re gonna die.

Your fingers fight with his belt, undoing it with your nimble fingers and tugging it apart like you’re furious.

“What’re you doing, honey?” Joel voices, though he doesn’t stop you. He’s unsure if you’re suddenly throwing out all sense and wanting to take him inside you, there’s a part of him that’s hoping that’s the case but you’d both been fairly careful so far; he’d been pulling out at the last minute and covering your inner thighs or ass in his cum.

“Sucking your cock.” You retort without missing a beat, unsnapping his button and dragging his fly down.

“Ya don’t have to -“ He begins but you level him with a glare.

“I want to.” Your glare humbles him and he actually gulps. Well - he’s not going to argue with that.

You kiss his lips hard, biting his bottom one gently and tugging in a way that makes him expel all his oxygen out of his nose and then you’re shimmying down his body, lifting his t-shirt and pressing a series of kisses down his stomach, you let the your fingertips graze over the ragged scar next to his navel and then lick a horizontal line just above his pubic area as you tug his jeans and boxers down over his ass and bunch them at his thighs.

You glance to the side nervously, waiting to see if any noise is approaching but then tug his cock completely free.

He sees you lick your lips when his cock springs upwards, he’s hard as rock and blushed along the length, curved a little to the side, the head beading with pre cum that your tongue immediately darts out to lick from the slit.

“Fuck.” He chokes, leaning back against the wall and winding his fingers in your hair as you press a group of featherlight kisses up the length of him until your reach the crown and wiggle your tongue on the underside of it, skating around the rim of him.

Your mouth is heavenly, wet and inviting, your tongue soft on the underside of him where you trace a prominent vein.

You let your mouth gather saliva while you admire the patch or dark and coarse hair between his narrow hips, threaded with wiry strands of silver.

His mind turns to static when you take him deep, easily swallowing just over half his length.

“Just like that, baby doll.” He coaxes, you swallow around the length of him, pulling up to lavish his tip with attention with the point of your tongue. He groans, hips canting into you so you envelope him again in the wet heat of your mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.” You alternate with taking him deep into your throat and using your hand to jack off what doesn’t fit, twisting your wrist and moving lower to suck and kiss his balls when your jaw begins to ache deliciously, he’s tugging at your hair, moving his hips to nudge that tiny bit deeper until your eyes water.

Joel thinks you look as pretty as a picture, there’s nothing sexier than a woman that is actively enjoying giving head rather than doing it because she thinks she has to, not that he’s ever made a woman do anything they didn’t want to before. Tess wasn’t that enthusiastic about giving head, happier to receive than reciprocate which didn’t bother him.

“You taste so good, Joel. I could suck your dick all day, so fucking good.” You confess, lips braced against his crown, kissing and nipping ever so gently, you trace his circumcision scar.

“Baby.” He whines, pushing against your closed lips until you open up to let him back in. Your cheeks hollow, sucking back and forth, popping at the tip and repeating.

He’s nestled in the back of your throat, balls gently being stroked between your feminine hands and his stamina wavers. You hum around him and he’s a goner, quickly pulling back as you feel his hairy thighs tense, dragging himself along your tongue one last time.

Joel takes himself in hand, stroking roughly like he does when he’s alone with just his mind to recount your previous encounters.

You stroke his thighs, watching eagerly. The tendons in his neck strain, his throat bobs as he swallows back his pleasure.

“Stick your tongue out.” He demands gruffly, working the length of himself and cupping his balls. You stick your tongue out, eyes glassy and lashes dewy. He manages three seconds before his abdomen contracts. “Jesus - fuck. I’m cummin’, baby. Oh shit, fuck- “ He stammers, eyes wanting to cinch shut but he needs to see you take his load. His dick throbs and kicks, his balls draw tight and his spine burns.

He cums in thick spurts, some landing on your tongue and a little hitting the corner of your mouth. Joel groans his way through it, the erotic sight of you humming happily as his head pulses on your tongue, his grip encouraging one last thick drop of semen to spurt out.

“Mmm.” You hum, closing your mouth to swallow his load and using your thumb to catch what missed your tongue, you suck the tip of your thumb to get the last drop and smile up at him like the little fucking vixen you are.

“That was amazing, you’re amazing.” He babbles, dragging you to your feet and engaging you in a deep kiss. Joel can taste the saltiness of himself on your tongue, he licks into your mouth with ferocity.

He pulls away to yank his boxers and jeans up, buckling his belt as you stand there trying to quell the ache in your loins as your cunt drips into the gusset of your underwear.

You’re so fucking horny, desperate for an orgasm or two.

When Joel has finished righting himself, he yanks you to him so fast that you wobble on your feet.

“What’s wrong, baby doll? Did ya really think I’d take mine and just be done?” Joel asks, unsnapping the button of your shorts and pulling them down to your thighs.

“No.” You lie, though you’re laced with relief when he crouches down and settles on his creaky knees. You see him wince a little but he says nothing, adjusting to a comfortable stance.

His head dips beneath the loose and fraying hem of your t-shirt, you giggle when his beard scrapes a particularly ticklish area and you feel him smile against your abdomen, kissing there after and descending lower to the waist of your Miami cut panties. He’s following a similar trail to what you did on him, he’s teasing you and riling you up.

His dexterous fingers hook into the sides of your panties, pulling them down but as they hit the centre of your thighs with the bunched denim of your mom shorts, he urges you around to face away from him.

He slaps your ass and you sink forward, barely able to catch yourself first.

You feel his hands spread you and you bend forward just so, arching your hips backwards and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Well, what do we have here?” He purrs, greedily taking in the sight of your bare pussy, freshly waxed and smooth, your arousal and natural fertile release coating your lips in a shiny slick.

“Waxed it.” You pant, fingers anchoring to the brick, the grains of mortar shedding beneath your nails.

“I can see that.” He hums, using his thumbs to part you, to expose your fluttering hole to his gaze. “Why?” He wonders, though he’s not complaining, it’s just that he doesn’t really have much of a preference for intimate hair but this is a nice surprise.

“Wanted to, I li- I like the feel of it.” You admit with a gulp when you feel his lips at the back of your thigh, right below the curve of your ass cheek, tongue darting out to trace a silvery stretch mark.

Every month, Martha - the owner of the apothecary - makes up a batch of natural and homemade sugar wax. Many of the ladies (and some gents) come in for a pot to wax whatever they want, you’re one of the few that keep this up, liking the normalcy of something as simple as having smooth legs and underarms but this time had decided to put yourself through the eye watering pain of waxing your vagina too, just as a little experiment you like to do every now and then but usually you shave instead when you can be bothered.

It was touch and go, at one point you thought you’d lost part of your labia but with some tears and a mostly steady hand, you’d managed to complete your task. Were you in a hurry to do it again? Absolutely fucking not but you were enjoying the results for now.

“Look how wet she is, is this all for me?” He goads, swiping his thumb through the centre of you and letting it dip into your hole for a second. “Yeah, this is all for me. This perfect cunt loves me.” Joel confirms, that cocky nature really coming out to play.

You’re definitely ovulating, he can tell by just looking at you. Your outer lips are puffy and you’re dripping into your underwear, sticky and clear, the viscosity thicker than when you cum.

He spreads your cheeks, leaving you vulnerable for a brief moment until he literally begins to lick at your asshole. This is the thing with Joel, the vulnerability. There are days where you chest cavity has been cracked open, the cage of your ribs pulled apart and your heart beats in tandem with his own, he offers his own vulnerability and you nurture it in the palms of your hands.

It’s a new sensation for you, nobody has ever done this before and it feels phenomenal. It’s unsurprising that Joel Miller is a dirty old man, you think to yourself, pushing back against his tongue. You’d been left dissatisfied with previous partners, unable to orgasm through oral sex most of the time, leaving you to tend to tourself at a later date.

You complain when his slick mouth leaves your puckered rim but the disappointment vanishes just as quick as it came, he begins to feast on your pussy, suckling your labia and moving to your hole, dipping his tongue inside and teasing your urethra too.

It’s hard to reach back and grab at his hair when he spreads you further, stretching you beyond your limit. You whimper and whine, desperate for more, for whatever he can offer.

Fearing that maybe you were correct and this was going to be a disappointment, in a moment of weakness and pure gluttony, you reach down between your legs to give your clit some attention where Joel can’t reach it from the positioning. You barely make contact before he sees what you’re doing and gives your ass a hard slap, you jump and your hand drops. He pulls back to twist you around until he’s eye level with your pubic mound and he positively glowers up at you, it’s such a fucking turn on that you feel no ounce of remorse whatsoever.

Daringly, you reach down again and he tracks your hand, you don’t even get to touch yourself this time before he knocks it away.

“Hands off.” Joel scowls, brown eyes flecked with hazel and gold. “I want to see that pretty little clit and I can’t if your fuckin’ hand is in my way.” He sounds so irritated that it’s comical. He scowls for a minute longer then gets his thumb involved with stimulating your clit and pushing upwards so that it’s bared beneath the hood, kissing it tenderly before flicking at it with his tongue.

Christ almighty - this dirty old geezer and his ability to eat pussy like he’s starving.

“Ah, ah.” You gasp at a particularly ferocious flicker of his tongue, your nerve endings alight. “There. Right there, that’s so good.” You sputter, clutching at his hair, so soft beneath your claws.

“I know where, you greedy fuckin’ girl.” He mumbles against you, clearly holding a grudge for your earlier interruption.

“Oh? So get back to work, Miller.” You order defiantly, he narrows his eyes and returns back to work, licking at your clit and kissing it. You feel the rising storm of your orgasm building by the second, Joel flattens his tongue and running it between the seam of your, scooping up the fertile sugary syrup of your arousal.

“Look at you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wrecked already.” He goads, kneading your hips. He reaches up to grasp at your tits, squeezing firmly, he fondles them both and you observe the chocolate brown eyes looking back at you, watching every single reaction to his ministrations.

He goes back to your clit, it’s so hard and aroused now, pretty and pink just like the rest of your pussy. You writhe against the wall when he sucks, his tongue darting out to lick the very tip of you and that’s game over.

“God, Joel.“ You moan, strands of greying hair clutched between tour fingers, pulling rougher than you intended. “I’m cumming.” You whine, head thrown back and pussy grinding into his lower face. Your clit pulses between his lips, he moans too when he feels you soak his facial hair, making a mess of him just like he’d wanted you too.

It’s filthy, the way your hips gyrate through your orgasm and the way his tongue scrubs your pulsing nerve. You wish you were full of him right now, soaking that thick cock of his. Your hormones are going haywire, screaming at you to let him fuck you with brute force and cum inside you, filling your womb and planting a seed within your empty uterus.

You’re being exceptionally loud, you know that. You have to bite the side of your hand, yet it’s not enough to muffle you. The volume in which you’ve reached the highest point of rapture sure to be heard from anyone passing by, you hope that the volume within The Tipsy Bison is enough to cover your tracks and pray that Darius won’t come looking for you.

It’s as though you can’t get enough oxygen into your lungs to compensate for what you lost keening, you suck in mouthful after mouthful of air and your body calms, the fire that had ignited slowly descends into burning embers until it’s nothing but petite plumes of smoke and tendrils of ashen air.

“Fuuuck.” You gasp, feeling gentle kisses being placed on the inside of your trembling thighs and you chance a look down after brushing the hair from your eyes. Joel looks back at you, pleased and aroused all over again, his dick a considerable lump in his jeans.

Refractory time who?

“I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that.” He confesses against your thigh breathlessly, lips and beard slick with you, with nectar like droplets clinging to his moustache.

“Mm.” You squeak, chest heaving and knees shakily supporting you.

“Was that okay for you?” He presses, rubbing your thighs, mouthing at them where his beard has left you scarlet and raw. You nod vigorously, just about able to find your voice.

“It was fucking incredible, Joel.” You reply, still a little breathless. He smiles and kisses your inner thigh once more before hoisting himself up stiffly with a pained groan. You drag up your underwear, jolting when your clit rubs against the material. Your shorts are also pulled back up and fastened, you breathe in deeply before reaching out for Joel’s face.

You capture his scruffy cheeks and pull him in for a kiss, practically licking yourself out of his moustache. He groans and squeezes your waist, you reluctantly pull back to peer at him, savouring a glance at his gorgeous face.

“I guess you gotta go back to work.” He remarks sullenly, you nod.

“You gonna come in and have a drink? We have beer tonight.” You tell him.

“Not tonight.” He shakes his head, your shoulders slump in disappointment. “Don’t think I’d be able to watch you all night and not be able to get my hands on you.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, stroking your cheekbone.

“Okay.” You huff.

“Don’t be mad at me, angel. My old ticker can’t take it.” He remarks playfully.

“Not mad.” You deny. “Just like having you around.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs.

“But I’ll see you at mine later.” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his.

“That you will, sweetheart.”

“Promise?” You pout.

“On my life.” He promises, kissing you softly.

He watches you retreat down the alley with the essence of you still on his tongue and listens as the door closes with a screech, smiling to himself like a clown in love.

You return back to work with flushed cheeks and a thrumming heart, counting down the hours, eager to be back with him once again.

[tieronecrush]

cool about it

joel miller x f!reader

(part II of water in your hands)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

word count: 14k (i'm sorry, please grab a snack or some water or read it in stages!!)

summary: I'm trying to be cool about it / Feelin' like an absolute fool about it / Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

You and Joel have been together secretly for months now, sneaking around behind his wife’s back. He hasn’t made a move to break it off with her, and at this point, you aren’t sure if he ever will. That is until he’s forced to face his problems, and you’re left with all the guilt.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, adultery/infidelity, marriage, age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is 20s/30s), use of pet names, mentions of water/drowning, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), one instance of spitting/drooling, praising, undefined relationship turned committed relationship, slightly possessive joel & reader, alcohol use, ANGST, hurt/comfort, separation, degrading language (homewrecker, slut, mistress, etc.), self-deprecation/insecurity

series spotify playlist / apple music

a/n: thank you to everyone who requested a part 2!! i really love these two even though i make them suffer BUT i would LOOOVE to write some more little stories for them so drop any requests in my inbox! i don’t wanna say goodbye to them just yet :(

dividers from @saradika

It was a rare occurrence for your shift to line up with Joel’s. Lately, he’d be working early mornings or overnights, and you would be afternoons or evenings at the bar. Today, however, is a gift from the universe. He’d been assigned a handful of shifts that ended in the afternoon, and for some reason, Tommy scheduled you early to come deep clean and organize the back bar and stock room for the Tipsy Bison. Joel and you could see each other in the light of day, for maybe only the sixth or seventh time in the months that you have been sneaking around with each other.

He walks straight into the unlocked doors of the bar, an eager grin on the side of his face when he sees you. He beelines for you as you stand in front of the counter, wiping it down.

“Mmm, been thinkin’ about you my whole shift, sugar. Even got a little distracted with you on my mind - got yelled at to keep it moving at one point,” his voice is a little hoarse from booking it over here from the stables, slightly sweaty arms wrapping around your waist and flexing as they squeeze you tight and turn you around, “Was just itchin’ to get over here.”

His lips find that spot under your ear that sends goosebumps over your skin every time, a playful smirk pulling the corners of your mouth up. Your hands rest against the plaid flannel covering his arms, the added warmth necessary for the early spring weather. It reminds you of what he’d been wearing a year ago when he’d started settling into Jackson; sleeves rolled up to show off the delicious veins that bulge when he was working hard. The thought gets you a little light-headed and you take a quick breath to calm your racing mind.

“Well, can’t blame me for you being horny. Gotta keep it in your pants on patrol, sir.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes shine with a tease as you watch Joel’s eyebrows shoot up keenly at your statement and the polite title.

“I think I can blame you. ‘Specially when you’re the one calling me sir.” His eyes darken with hunger - and the knowledge that you’re going to be the one to satiate it. His arms loosen from their tight hold around your waist, large hands skimming down your back to grab at the cushion of your ass greedily.

“Did you only come to get something from me, Miller? I think I should be offended that you didn’t just want to visit me.”

“Oh, darlin’, y’know I came here to just get a glimpse of that pretty face to keep me going for the day. But then I got one look at you, and you just always do somethin’ to me. Can’t ever get enough of you.” His lips attach to the notch where your jaw meets your neck, teeth grazing skin as he works his mouth down to your collar. He hooks two fingers in your shirt there, pulling it back to reveal the blossoming purple mark that he had left the other night when the two of you were glued to each other in your bed. It was his parting gift as the sun rose, the usual warning sign for him to get back home.

“Can I give you another, sweet girl? Or maybe a couple? And you can wear one of those cute little tank tops next shift. Gotta let those gawking boys know you belong to someone.” His low, syrupy twang sends humidity across your exposed skin. Your head tilts back involuntarily, hands gripping his forearms that rest against your hips, his hands still palming your ass.

“You can give me as many as you want. Just wish I could you some.” Your gaze moves down to meet Joel’s eyes, the slightest pout on your face that pulls him away from your collarbone. He looks at you tenderly, one hand leaving your backside to brush your hair back from your face with care.

“I know, darlin’. I wish you could, too.” His thumb rubs against one of your cheekbones, and your eyes close to focus on the touch and feel the weight of his words. He still hasn’t told you those three words that you give him all the time, still never crossing that line.

The cool metal of his wedding band stings your face when he slips his hand down your cheek and along the nape of your neck as if the universe was sending you a quick reminder about who he was promised to.

“You wanna get out of here, sweet girl? We’ve got a few hours just to ourselves.” Your eyes open again at the sound of his voice, a soft smile spreading his lips as he speaks. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye, eyebrows wagging as his large hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, giving one strong squeeze.

“Maybe we can have a little afternoon delight? Hmm?” He looks genuinely pleased with his cheeky suggestion, and you can’t help but chortle at the horny teenager energy he’s got.

“Play your cards right, Miller, and maybe you can have a little treat.” You wink at him, opening your mouth again to send another quip, only to be taken by surprise as he captures your lips in a fervent kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth, your front pressing tightly against his to the point where you can feel him half-hard against your thigh.

You pull away from the heated kiss, tsking quietly as you pull his hands off of you.

“We won’t ever make it out of here if you keep that up. And that isn’t ideal for either of us.”

Joel groans, the end of the sound hitching up into a soft whine.

“Fine, fine. You’re right. But I can’t fucking wait any longer. Been waiting all morning…” He trails off in thought, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Just come to mine. It’s closer.”

“Yeah, by only like 100 feet, Joel. And what if Heather’s home, hmm? How are you gonna explain your hard dick and me likely bent over whatever surface is closest to the front door?” Your arms cross over your front, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“She’s teaching today. She’ll be at school all afternoon. C’mon, it’ll be fine. Never get to have you in my bed.”

It’s not just your bed, you think to yourself. Your stomach turns a bit at the not-so-friendly reminder from your conscience. Your eyes flick down to the ring on his left hand, a sigh escaping as you study the shine of the metal before meeting his eyes once more. You could see the eagerness in them, the want. He wasn’t going to let it go, and you knew if you kept arguing it would end up with him propositioning that it’s either here in the bar or the privacy of his house.

“Okay. We’ll go to yours. But it’d better be a quick one.”

Joel smirks devilishly, hands grabbing at your body. He pulls you away from the counter, fishing out his house keys from the front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re gonna be changing that tune once I get you inside, darlin’. Gonna want to take your time.”

Decision made, Joel left out of the bar first to get a head start back home. Finishing up with your last tasks quickly, you closed up and started down your shared street, sending friendly waves to neighbors as you made your way. You came up with an excuse in your head as to why you were walking up to Joel’s door, just in case an overly curious bystander wanted to be nosy.

You send three quick knocks against the wood, peering in through the small glass windows in the door to see Joel making his way over from the kitchen. He grins sweetly when he opens the door, inviting you in. To an outsider, it all seemed to be a perfectly normal, neighborly exchange. Perhaps you were going to catch up over coffee or Joel was helping you out by getting you a tool to borrow.

Little do they know what he was really about to give you.

It was an awkward exchange at first, Joel stumbling around his words as he gave you a sort-of tour while leading you upstairs. You’d been in his house before, invited in by Ellie when she needed help with a gardening project for school and she’d come to you for advice based on the flora in your front lawn. You’d even been there when he and his wife were there, canoodling on the couch. It stung, seeing him laughing and holding her close. Nearly made you snap the pencil you were holding in your hand as you read over Ellie’s project plan.

But now you were here, alone, and he wanted you in his own bed. Their bed. Their literal marital bed.

It gave you a rush of anxiety as he pushed open the door to the room, turning towards you as you give the space a once over. You ignored the touches of her in the room — the throw pillows around the bed, the perfume on the dresser vanity, and clothes hanging slightly out of the hamper. Instead, you focus on the little details of him that you were finally privy to.

A novel on his nightstand, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway, the small ceramic dish that he now discards his wedding ring in, the owl mug that holds his morning coffee, smatterings of clothes around his side of the room. It all feels very comfortable, reminding you of pieces that you get of him in your own space. These touches of him give you a sense of home and safety; it all feels very Joel.

He pulls you out of your observations, your eyes meeting his lustful gaze. He towers over you, hands holding the sides of your jaw to tilt your head back. He slants his lips against yours, a light kiss turning salacious with want. Your hands find the waistband of his jeans, tugging lightly while his tongue dances with yours. Soft moans escape with the breaths you both take, and he peels away from your lips to pull your t-shirt over your head, mouth attacking your collarbone to leave more marks as he had promised earlier. Your head tilts, eyes opening for a split second when he bites a bit harder. His tongue soothes the nip, but you still feel the tinge of pain when your eyes lock onto the lacy panties haphazardly discarded near the hamper. You can’t look away, bile burning your throat as your mind gives you an image of the two of them together, of Joel enjoying anyone but you. The thought of those not belonging to you and being for him makes jealousy canker across your heart. A new determination is shocked through you - you want to give him a memory of you being the one pleasing him in this room, for him to think about whenever he has his wife in the same position. You wanted him to be moaning your name, praising you, being under your spell, even for a moment.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. His head shoots up from your collar with surprise, a little smirk pulling at his lips. His eyebrows raise in question as you push him to the end of the bed, hands gripping his broad shoulders and maneuvering him to sit. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, baby? You wanna ride me, hmm?” His voice is lecherous, dripping with desire and satisfaction over you taking some control.

You shake your head at him, bending down in just your bra to pop open the button of his jeans and slide the zipper down as it strains against his bulge. He buries his face in the exposed skin of your breasts that are now eye level, humming contently.

He lets you work his jeans down to his mid-thighs, cock springing free. He still never bothered with underwear most of the time despite the slow, normal life he’d adjusted to in Jackson.

You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. You settle in front of him between his legs, hand wrapping around him and stroking slowly. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. A rush of saliva floods your mouth at the thought of tasting the beads of pre-cum that were starting to trickle out of his swelling length.

Giving into your bodily reactions, you lean in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin. Your thumb brushes against his tip, a hiss of pleasure sounding from above. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. You hum satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, looking up to see splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, relishing in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Your head starts a slow bob up and down, growing wet at the weight of him on your tongue. You focus on half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, his cheeks visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” His words flood your panties, feeling the fabric stick uncomfortably against you. You shift in your position slightly, a sigh exhaling as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your ache.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan coming from him above you. He loses some of his composure, the large hand at the back of your head pushing him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me. You gonna let me fuck your mouth?”

The two of you are tunnel-visioned on each other, with no thoughts in your head except for getting Joel to come down your throat and no thoughts in his other than the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth. Had the two of you sensed anything happening in the house, it might have saved you.

Heather, Joel’s wife, returned home on her lunch break, hoping to run into her husband when she grabbed something to eat quickly. She heard the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice coming from upstairs, not making out any words at first. She climbed the stairs, the sound becoming clearer. Joel was definitely there, but he wasn’t alone. Wet sounds accompanied his pleasured moans, her ears perking up when she stands next to the closed door and hears him ask to fuck the mouth of whoever he’s with. Rage burns, the handle twisting and the door flying open. She’s greeted with you kneeling in front of Joel, his eyes trained on you with a lustful tenderness, mouth agape in awe.

The sound of the door smacking against the wall brings Joel’s attention away from the way you're taking the slow thrusts of his hips as he fucks your face. Immediately, he sees his wife standing in the doorway, shock, anger, and betrayal evident in her expression. His stomach rolls with anxiety, working quickly to push you off of him gently, tossing the throw blanket from the end of the bed in your direction to cover up. He scrambles to shove his still-hard dick back into his jeans and zips them up quickly, hands shamefully covering the bulge as he stands.

His mouth opens to try to excuse the pornographic sight that his wife’s just witnessed, but his brain is coming up empty. His eyes just shoot back and forth between the woman in the doorway wearing his ring and you, standing up from your knees with the blanket around your shoulders and a look of panic in your eyes. His hand twitches to reach for you, to comfort you, and his heart cracks at the glossiness in your eyes when you turn away from him.

The only sound to come is from his wife, her voice flat and resolute as she speaks directly to you.

“Please, get your shirt back on and go home.” She’s calm and resolute, with no malice in her voice as she demands you from her home. You oblige willingly and quickly, grabbing your top from the floor and slipping it over your head. You discard the blanket politely back on the bed, making eye contact with Joel one last burning time before turning to scurry out and back to your place across the street like a reprimanded child. Tears sting your eyes as you exit, the insides of you feeling like a storm at sea, uncertainty of what happens next for you and Joel thrashing around in your gut.

Back inside their shared home, Joel is still at the end of the bed. The situation has shriveled his arousal, the bulge in his jeans no more as his wife stares him down with indignance. She turns on her heel, a silent command for him to follow her as she makes her way downstairs. He climbs down the stairs petulantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to start screaming at him. He can’t find the energy to fight back if she does; he’d take it if it finally freed him of the mess that was his own creation.

Heather motions for him to sit in one of the wooden kitchen chairs; she leans back against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. He plops down into the hard seat, a quiet sigh exhaled as he leans back, bracing himself for what is bound to ensue.

“Was this the first time?” Heather asks, voice steady, composed. Her eyes finally look at him, nothing given away from the empty stare in them.

He thinks about lying to spare her feelings, but the thought of continuing to suffer through sneaking around to be with you guides him into an honest answer. He’s going to give her the whole truth.

“No. No, this wasn’t the first time.”

“How long?”

He hesitates, the truth burning his throat as he prepares to confess that he’s never been a faithful husband, not when it came to you.

“Since the week after we got married.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you fucking kidding?”

He shakes his head, bowing it in shame as he continues his attempted repentance.

“I’m sorry. I know it probably means nothing to you, but I am sorry that I put you in this situation…We met when Ellie and I first stopped in Jackson to find Tommy. Before we went to, uh…I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But I didn’t think that I was good for her; I’m older, I have so much shit that I’ve done, and I didn’t think I could give her the life she wanted. When I came back, I tried to stay away. But when I saw her, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was like a fucking magnet or gravitational pull. And well, eventually, I broke all my resolve. We slept together, out in the field behind the storage barn. I felt so fucking guilty afterward that I ignored her, for months. And, uh, I asked Tommy to set me up. Which is when I met you,” he interrupts his speech with a deep breath as he continues his full confessional, each sentence he speaks feeling like a brick being broken down from his walls.

“And I thought that if I made the decision to move on, to date, to get married, that we would both get over each other. I am so sorry that I did this to you. I just thought that you were a nice woman, you weren’t looking for anything really since you’d lived your life with your husband before. It was easy for me. Selfish, and easier than facing reality. But, when I went to check on her after she didn’t show up to work all week after we’d gotten married, we slept together again. And we kept meeting up in secret, having an affair. Have been for months.”

Heather continues her empty, faraway stare as she processes everything Joel’s just laid out in front of her. Silence falls over the room as he gives her time to formulate a response.

“Do you love her?”

That surprises him. Did she actually ask that? Is this the part where she screams and cries and shows her anger? His head shoots up from its hanging position and hands clasp together between his knees as he keeps eye contact with his wife across the room. He thinks back on all of the time you spent together and finally comes to admit what he’s known since that first conversation.

His voice breaks as he speaks, thick with the emotion that the first time he’s saying this is to the completely wrong person, “Yeah. I love her. With everything I have. I’d do anything for her.”

Heather nods shortly, arms uncrossing and dropping to her sides. She looks around the room, her brain working as she thinks about what to do.

“Okay. I’ll make it easy for you then. I’m leaving. We’re separating, since we were never legally married in the first place. If you can give me tonight, I’ll be out tomorrow. Just, I don’t know, ask Ellie to sleepover at Dina’s and spend the night at Tommy’s or at hers, I don’t really give a shit. Don’t come back until the morning, please.”

“I won’t. I’ll do whatever you need me to. I’m sorry again, Heather. I shouldn’t have made such a stupid, selfish decision.” Joel’s filled with genuine remorse, anguish flooding his gut about how to move forward from this.

She looks at him with pity, then her eyes move to the window in the direction of your house.

“It was selfish. And not just towards me.”

At that, she walks away from the kitchen and upstairs to start packing. Joel takes this as his moment to leave, wandering to go find Ellie to tell her to spend the night at Dina’s. He thinks about going to Tommy’s, to tell him everything even though Joel’s sure that he already knows. Instead, he continues to wander, not quite ready to face you and tell you what he’s been too foolish to admit to himself.

Taps sound softly against your front door, three quick and one lingering - Joel’s signature knock. The nerves tossing in your stomach ease at the thought of him being near again, only to wash right back when you open the door. It’s a split second that you see the heartache in his expression before he’s smiling with tender sympathy, but it sticks in your mind. Did he want to stay married that badly? Was this all just fun for him? Just an affair?

The thoughts tamper in your mind when he steps inside the entryway, brawny hands cupping your cheeks to study your eyes before they drop to your waist and wrap his arms around you in a secure embrace. His gentleness is enough to bring tears back to your eyes, some spilling over as he tucks his head into your neck and takes deep, shaky breaths. One of your hands caresses the back of his head, the other holding tightly to his bicep to keep him close. Nothing is said for minutes, the two of you standing there with the front door wide open.

It’s only when you hear his sniffle muffled against your neck, your immediate reaction is to hold him close and rasp out, “Oh, Joel…It’s okay. We’ll figure it out if you have to stay -- if it’s easier to…” You can’t bare to finish the sentence - if he had to stay with her, if he wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t last.

He pulls out of the crook of your shoulder, glossy eyes meeting yours with deep contrite behind them. He shakes his head slowly, calloused fingers tracing along your jaw before cradling your cheek. You can see in his eyes the moment his heart breaks just a fraction more, and you’re convinced the next thing out of his mouth is going to be that he has to leave you, for good.

“Darlin’, no. That’s not why - I’m not - Shit, I’ve really messed this up.” He turns away from your stare, your anxiousness returning tenfold with this reaction. He takes your hand, shuts your front door gently, and guides you over to the sofa.

He sits first, delicately handling you into the spot next to him. He cheats his body towards you, hands intertwining with yours. You look down at his larger ones encompassing yours, placed together in your lap. His thumbs soothe your skin, lulling the tightness in your chest to relax some with the comfort of his touch.

“Look at me, sweet girl.”

His croony voice pulls your attention away, following the tender command. The twang of his voice is coming out more with his emotion and it tugs your heart that you only get to hear it at its purest when he’s upset.

“Did you think I was coming here to tell you I was staying with her?”

The directness of the question steals the air from your lungs, your mouth agape when you scramble to try to cover up the clearly obvious thoughts you were having. It was as if he was inside your head, and at this moment, you didn’t necessarily appreciate how vulnerable it made you feel. He takes your silence as an answer, nodding to himself while he murmurs under his breath. Joel takes a deep breath before his gaze locks on yours.

“She’s leaving me. I told her the whole truth. And now I’m here to tell you all of the truth that I told her. It’s the least that you deserve.”

His eyes have glossed over again, no tears daring to spill out -- he’s trying to keep it all in, but you can see his emotion despite his best efforts. You’ve never seen Joel this unguarded, and it breaks your heart that he’s feeling this pain. You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you anything, that he doesn’t owe you anything. But you also don’t want to close him off again, to brush this all under the rug.

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. I knew from that first conversation with you. That beautiful damn smile did me in the second I saw it. Hell, I’m pretty sure even Tommy and Ellie knew from that moment. I was so scared. I didn’t want to ever fail you, so I didn’t even give myself the chance to try…But I wanna try now. Completely. No more hiding, no more secrets. Just us. I love you, darlin’. Been in love with you for ages, I just couldn’t pull my head out of my ass long enough to say it to you.”

A jolt of adrenaline is shot through your body, jitters lightening your limbs as your heart beats faster. The words that you have been waiting for, dreaming of, just said so matter-of-factly by him. It feels like a figment of your imagination, so unbelievable to you at this moment that your hands reach for his chest, checking to make sure he’s really there.

A light chuckle leaves his mouth, his hands coming up to lay over yours, holding them against his pounding heartbeat. Once you believe that he’s really there, your eyes trace up from his chest. Pure affection oozes out of his brown eyes, the tiniest smile tugging the corners of his lips as he awaits your response.

You realize it’s been silent for a minute, the surprise of this conversation stealing your words. Hands press harder into his strong sternum, weight supported by him as you shift to kneel over him. You lean down and slant your mouth against his in a ghostly kiss. His mouth chases yours when you pull your head back, eyes locked into each other’s when you finally respond before kissing him passionately.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to realize that.”

It’s been a few weeks since that afternoon. Heather completely moved out of Joel’s, leaving the house with just him and Ellie again. He’s told Ellie, not the full extent of everything that’s happened because she’s only fifteen, but that he and Heather are separated and that the two of you are together. He knows she’s not naive, especially after all that she’s been through, but he couldn’t really find the courage to face her and tell her the whole truth about his stupidity. So, the rest of the gaps are to be filled in by inference or imagination.

He’s told Tommy the whole truth, though. Another reason for Maria to dislike him, especially because she was friendly with his now ex-wife. Tommy is his brother, at the end of the day, and despite him not condoning Joel’s actions over the last year, he’s said that he can’t help but feel relieved that this can all be put behind them. And that his brother, and you, his close friend, can be happy together.

Joel’s asked you to move in about four times now. Each time he asks, he knows the answer, but he can’t help but try again in the slight chance that it’s changed. You always tell him that you will, eventually, but you don’t think it’s the best idea right now. Especially with all of the shit that you have been getting that Joel seems to be ignoring.

Time passing means it’s also been a few weeks since you and Joel have been able to be around each other publicly. To express your affection, hold hands, kiss. It all feels so foreign - like you still have the risk of being caught when people look at the two of you. It doesn’t help with the glares or dirty looks you get from some people of Jackson. It festers the growing mold of insecurity in you, feeling the guilt of breaking up a marriage, even a loveless one.

The worst instances have been when you’ve been at work and Joel stops in, either on his own or with Tommy and some patrol guys. Nothing has changed from his routine before, but now he doesn’t have to hide his reactions to your hands brushing when you pass him a drink or wait around all night just to be able to kiss you and walk you home.

Joel’s handsy, to say the least. Especially with a drink or two in him. He’s constantly running a hand down your side or to your ass when you bring over a tray of drinks to the high-top table he and his buddies are at. Or he’s leaning over the counter to grab a kiss from you when you drop a glass of whiskey in front of him. He’s even gotten to a point where he was tipsy enough to climb behind the bar in the opening at the end, stealthily creeping up behind you as you organize glasses to wrap himself around you and give you a sloppy kiss. He’s cheered on by his cohort and all but chased out from behind the bar by his brother who grumbles annoyances as Joel shoots a cheeky wink in your direction.

All of his displays make you smile, and you haven’t been happier to finally have Joel to yourself and for everyone to know just how in love with you he is. But, it hasn’t made it any easier when you hear all of the nasty things said about you.

The worst of it comes one night when you’re working. Joel’s been put on an evening patrol shift, but he’d promised to swing by the Tipsy Bison to pick you up and take you back to his to spend the night.

Most of the shift comes and goes uneventfully - some friends stop in and keep you entertained for a few hours, the music playing not making you want to bang your head against the wall. Tommy’s working with you tonight, having taken some time off of patrol to help out more around the house and with his now one-year-old son. He approaches you at the bar polishing glasses, nodding to a group of women around a table that are on their fourth or fifth round of the night.

“Think you can take the next round over to them for me? Really gotta take a piss.” You laugh at Tommy’s excuse, nodding and taking the order from him.

“You could just ask, y’know. Didn’t need the extra information.” He rolls his eyes and quickly jets off to the bathrooms. You prepare the cocktails and grab the two beers from the fridge, arranging everything on a tray to make your way over to the ladies.

About three paces away, you tune into their conversation and your stomach sinks to your feet.

“Can you believe that she can still show her face around here? I would be holed up in my house if I were her.”

“She probably feels great about herself. I bet she’s going after the other brother now, have you seen them joking around all night with each other? She’s basically throwing herself at him. What a slut.”

“I think I’ll actually feel bad for Joel if that happens. But, you know what they say, once a homewrecker, always a homewrecker.”

“She probably gets off on being the mistress or something. Adds the excitement since she’s probably gotten fucked every which way at this point in her life.”

Tears prick your eyes and you blink them away, steel expression as you close in on the table. You stay silent as you deposit the drinks on the surface, turning away with the tray under your arm only to hear one of them shout after you.

“Homewrecking whore!”

They dissolve into cackles, the tables around them all now talking in hushed tones as they stare at you. The burn of humiliation creeps up your neck, watery eyes bubbling over. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break, you’re already pathetic enough right now without them seeing your face. Your legs book it into the bathroom after throwing the drink tray onto the counter, the black plastic skidding to a stop in front of the younger Miller.

Tommy’s heard what was shouted, the bullies snickering away and satisfied. Anger bites in his throat and he holds back from shouting across the room. Instead, he saunters over and starts picking up the nearly full drinks onto the tray again, the group staring at him incredulously.

“Excuse me, we’re drinking those?”

He simply shakes his head, smiling politely at them.

“Nah, you’re leaving. Now. And you’re gonna stop harassing people if you wanna come back.”

At that he walks away, dumping the drinks in the back bar sink and watching the group exit in a huff.

When you come out of the bathroom puffy-eyed and see the empty table, the thought occurs to you that Tommy must have said something. You give him an appreciative smile, and he says nothing more of it for the rest of the shift.

Your mind continues to replay all of the horrible things they said about you, starting to wonder if there was a layer of truth to it. You were distracted for the rest of the night and when you escaped back to the stock room to pull what was needed at the end of the night, Tommy took the opportunity to pull Joel aside when he walked through the doors to pick you up.

“Don’t tell her that I told you this, but something happened at work tonight.” Tommy keeps his voice down from the lingering patrons, one arm across his torso, the other holding his hand to his mouth to pinch his lip. His eyes dance around to make sure there’s no one eavesdropping.

“What? What are you saying, what happened? Is she okay?” Joel’s brow furrows, feet stepping towards the back to find you. He worries immediately, his mind used to jumping to the worst scenarios from the shit that he’s seen.

“She’s in one piece, quit panicking. Just, some unsavory things were said. There’re this group of women that were drunk, but I think they said some stuff about her. All I heard was what they shouted at her when she walked away, called her a ‘homewrecking whore.’”

Joel grimaces, his heart breaking at the thought of you being subjected to such torment. His temper swells in his chest, and his first thought was to go find whoever it was and sling insults right back to them. It wasn’t even true, he was the one who got you all into that mess, but of course, to an outsider looking in, they were going to blame the third party involved in a marriage that fell apart.

Joel nods in understanding, not willing to dare repeat what Tommy said, the words sitting bitterly in his mouth while he leans against the counter waiting for you.

Your eyes are trained down when you enter the main room again, counting the stock of the bottles in your hands under your breath. At someone’s throat clearing, your head snaps up and the slightest smile grows on your face at the sight of Joel leaning over the bar with a gentle, boyish grin.

“Hey, sweet girl. Boss man says you can head home early with me.” He jerks his head in Tommy’s direction, his brother smiling with a hand raised in a wave. You smile wider, waving your thanks back as you set the box of bottles on the counter. Making your way out and over to Joel, his arms scoop you up against him with a sigh of contentment.

“Missed you, darlin’. You ready to head home?” His lips press into your hair at the top of your head, the tiniest bit of tension from the night relaxing in his embrace.

“Ready. Let’s go home, cowboy.” Joel chuckles lightly at the nickname, keeping one arm wrapped around you as you both start down the gravel street. He recounts his shift with you, telling you about a family of bunnies he saw to cheer you up and cracking a couple of jokes. You barely smile in his direction, laughing a beat too late when you register that he’s been jesting with you, much too quiet for your normal, bubbly self. You act completely cold about it all, with no anger or emotion burning in you to share with him. It squeezes his chest, the fact that you’re in pain and keeping it distant from him. Those horrible fucking words that he wishes he could just wipe from your brain sit sour in his mouth. All he wants is to block them out so you never have to hear them again because they are the furthest thing from the truth.

He wishes you would tell him what happened tonight; you feign an uneventful evening when he asks about your night. All he wants to do is reassure you, but without you opening up, he doesn’t want to push you if you don't want to talk about it.

The two of you walk into his house, trailing up lazily to the bedroom. Per your request, the room has been rearranged and the bedding has been changed to an extra set you had at home, making the space once again solely Joel’s. Instead of bits of her sprinkled into the space, there are pieces of you lying around that make his heart beat a little faster and a smile crosses his face each time he notices them. Clothes in his dresser, earrings on the nightstand, the book you’re reading on the desk where it’d been left this morning.

Changing from your work clothes, you leave them hanging over the chair. Your pajamas are a pair of boxers that he hasn't touched since moving to Jackson and one of his old t-shirts, the fabric worn in just the right way to make it ideal for sleeping. He strips down, slipping on a pair of grey sweats and staying shirtless. He crawls onto his unmade bed, peeling back your side, and patting your spot, a soft smile on your face as you take the invitation.

Joel’s hands find your waist, bunching up the cotton of his t-shirt to press his palms to your warm skin. He dips his head down to your chest, nuzzling his hooked nose against your breasts. He presses sweet kisses to the soft cushiony tissue, forehead resting on your sternum. He hums against the fabric covering you, lifting his hands at your hips to pull the hem further up. You relax under his affection, quiet, breathy sighs leaving your lips.

“My sweet girl, can I help get you out of your head?” Joel’s question sends a wave of arousal between your legs, his broad frame rolling you from your side to your back. He moves to hover over your form from the side, hands coasting over your curves. Thumbs tweak your nipples through your shirt, a whimper falling from your lips. Your complete trust and devotion stare back at him as you fully comply with his request.

“Please distract me.”

Joel groans at your submission, eyes blown wide with hunger and awe.

“Gonna give you exactly what you need to feel better, baby. Gonna remind you how much I love you.” He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed. Lips attach to the supple peaks of your breasts, sucking gently and pulling moans from your lips. He works the opposite one with his fingers, swapping his attentive mouth when he feels you arch your back to press your chest into his face. His lips separate from your nipple, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing down your stomach. Every few, Joel’s tongue slips out and skates against your skin, the sensation rippling goosebumps along the surface.

Once he reaches the waist of the boxer shorts you’ve got on, he sits up to admire your form under him. The spots of his saliva glisten in the low, yellow lamplight, your breasts perked up as they rise and fall with your shallow breaths. His fingers hook into the elastic band, slipping them down and sending you soft praise when you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl.”

The shorts join your shirt, rumpled on the floor somewhere. Joel sits back on his heels, gripping your ankles gently to bend your knees and spread your legs open for him. You mold to his positioning like clay, one leg falling to the side lazily to put your glistening cunt on display for him. His tongue wets his lips as he drinks the sight of you up, wishing he was any good at drawing or painting so that he could reproduce you like the work of art you are.

His touch floats up your calves and your velvety thighs, focus zeroing in on the dripping folds in front of him. He shimmies down the bed onto his tummy, arms hooking under your thighs to pull you closer to him. He rests on his elbows partially, and you watch as his gaze becomes fully entranced by the vision of your wet arousal that is all for him.

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Everything about you, but especially this gorgeous pussy of yours. She’s just weeping for me, isn’t she? You want me to take care of her? Show her she’s mine? Show you how much I love you?” His words only cause more dampness to flood your core, soft whines drawing out of you as you move to sit up. You lean back on your hands, desperate to watch every detail unfold of your man worshipping you from between your legs.

“Please, Joel. Pretty please,” you mewl.

A satisfied smirk crosses his face, loving how desperate you get for him. His eyes fall to the space between your legs, his mouth salivating. He leans in, letting spit drip onto the coarse curls that cover your mound, his hardening cock twitching as part of him coats your sex, marking you as his in addition to the love bites waxing and waning in phases across your body. He reaches a hand around your leg, coating his fingers with your wetness and using it to mix and smear his spit and your arousal all over the hair and skin there.

He presses a delicate kiss to your hood, the contact sending a jolt to your thighs and jerking your hips. One large hand pushes down on your stomach to keep you in place as he swipes his tongue from your taint to your clit, the tip of it slipping in to tease your entrance as it skates along through your slick. He savors the taste of you, a sharp sweetness that’s become his favorite flavor.

A groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against you before his mouth sucks at your clit. Moans tumble from your mouth, breath hitching as you inhale when his tongue moves down, pressing into your entrance slightly. Like eating ice cream in a heatwave, he moves to catch any dripping arousal with his mouth or chin, your name falling from his lips as he feels himself achingly hard in his sweatpants against the mattress. He starts to fuck his hips into the cushiony material, tongue easily slipping in and out as he starts to thrust in your cunt.

“Fucking love your little sounds. Love how sweet you are for me, darlin’. Never gonna get enough.”

Fingers work circles in your clit, the motions tightening the knot in your stomach. Your head falls back with a moan of Joel’s name, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to keep breathing while your pleasure builds its pressure inside of you. His mouth and fingers swap positions, suckling at your clit with lewd noises while two of his large fingers slide in between your walls. His hand fucks your tight pussy, praises rasped against your mound as he takes a breath to press kisses against the curls there. Another finger is added, the girth of all three working you towards your bliss.

“Fuck, ‘m so close, baby. Gonna come, oh my god. Feel so good.” Your voice is high-pitched, whining as the pressure pushes harder inside of you, taut coils ready to snap.

Joel looks up at you, pupils completely blown wide in ecstasy. His hips still work his hard cock against the mattress, his own release building inside of him.

“Be my sweet girl, come on my mouth.”

With his words and his lips attached to your cunt again, the pressure built in you releases with a mind-clearing, blinding pop. Your wanton moans echo in the room, the bawdy sounds of your pleasure and your wetness mixing together as Joel continues to work you through your orgasm.

His hips move faster as he watches you come undone from his handiwork, the noises you’re making sending him over the edge. He comes in his sweatpants with a moan of your name, dry humping the mattress like a teenager. He feels like he should be embarrassed, but after all that he just witnessed from you, it’s a miracle he didn’t bust when you simply opened your legs for him.

Untangling himself from you, he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up, throw his pants in the hamper and grabs a warm, damp washcloth for you. He patters back over to the bed and takes care of you, discarding the washcloth and gently closing your legs. He climbs back into bed with you, pulling the covers up once again. He nestles in behind you, curling his frame around you protectively. Your mind’s foggy from your orgasm and exhaustion floods over your body, no protest from you as you start to drift. He nuzzles into your hair, pressing a delicate kiss at the back of your neck as he whispers to you.

“It’s only you, darlin’.”

Another month passes after that night at the bar where you heard what was being said about you around town. The gossiping didn’t stop, especially when people found out that you had finally caved in from Joel’s relentless (yet charming) pleads and agreed to move in with him and Ellie.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on how fast you both had moved, how you were shoving everything in his ex-wife’s face, how you were staking your claim so publicly and like a “whore.” Whatever it all meant, it was heard in whispers at the bar, in the market, in town meetings, you name it. If you were present, people were talking.

It influenced you the more you heard it; the repetition of it all made it sound like truth to your weak mind. You kept these feelings of guilt and shame inside, burying them deep in an attempt to keep everything copacetic for Joel. He was happy these days, smiling more and cracking jokes. He was more involved in the community and Ellie also found her place with Joel behind her and fully content in Jackson. You dreaded being the one to cause any more problems than you already did for the last year and a half, so you shut your mind up in an attempt to compartmentalize.

If Joel didn’t know what all was being said, that was for the best. You weren’t going to be the one to burst the love bubble that he had for you, so you were just going to keep cool and try to get out of your head about everything that was left undiscussed.

But, that only made going into town and going to work hell. You weren’t acting like yourself anymore, no small talk with customers or catching up with neighbors and friends that would come to visit you. You did your job and walked home each night silently, even when you were with Joel. Every shift you would hear some new comment or rumor about you, adding it to the file that you had accumulated in your mind. Your subconscious flicked through it every night in your dreams, pulling out some of the worst to relive when you should have been dreaming of being happy with the man lying beside you.

The guilt was pulling you under, each new comment acting like a brick to weigh you down into the sea of liability and disgrace you were lost in. There was shame over how you were characterized in the outcome of all of this, guilt over breaking up his marriage, anxiety over becoming a burden to Joel and anchoring him down into the depths again. You’d thought it all would wash away with the changing of tides, since you and Joel could be together openly, but it only brought you to the ocean floor while Joel was floating on the waves above you.

It was an evening that Joel had off, opting to stay in and play Boggle with Ellie. You left the two of them to head to work after playing a few rounds yourself, both you and Ellie completely annihilating Joel. The acid in your stomach sloshed around, pressure building in your torso and pushing the burning sensation up your chest and into your throat as your steps closed in on the Tipsy Bison. Your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth, breaths jagged as you attempt to calm yourself outside the wooden building. You stand there for what feels like an hour, wrangling all your anxiety into a small lump in your throat. This is where it would sit for the rest of the night until you could finally let it all back out on your walk home.

The beginning of your shift was normal, nothing said to or about you. That all changed, though, when the person you least expected to see comes and sits on the stool in front of where you’re polishing glasses.

Heather.

Your eyes widen in surprise and nervousness, the lump in your throat starting to seep its way back into the burning acid of your stomach and the tightness of your chest. Ears brace themselves for either an insult or something degrading to be thrown your way. After a beat of silence, you scramble to resolve the awkward tension.

“I can get Tracy to serve you, she’s just over--”

“No, no that’s not necessary. If you’re fine with serving me, that is.”

You nod quickly to relieve the discomfort, your people-pleasing tendencies rearing their ugly head. You actually don’t want to be serving her, but you also really don’t want more drama to inevitably spread about you walking away to get someone else for her - there’s no chance that it wouldn’t be spun against you.

“Um, yeah no, totally cool. What can I get ya?”

She gives you her order and you quickly make it up, depositing the glass in front of her. Silence falls between the two of you again, but this time she’s the one to break it.

“So, um, how are you? How’s work?”

The questions take you off-guard. You were friendly with Heather before, as her neighbor you would bring over extra garden crops and she would offer to mend clothes of yours. She was always polite and made small talk with you. Well, that was before she knew you were fucking her husband.

“It’s good, I guess. Not much to change around here. How’re things at school? You’re still teaching there?”

You're an idiot. Why are you continuing this conversation as if you guys are long-time acquaintances? You’re trying to be cool about it, just ignore the elephant in the room, but something’s gotta give at one point, right?

“Things are great. We’ve got some open volunteer positions if you’d be interested. It wouldn’t be with me if that’s a concern.”

“No - no. I mean, I’d love to volunteer for Ellie’s class if there’s anything…” you trail off, the thorny pricks of awkwardness becoming too much for you. You start to speak, only to hear Heather at the same time.

“Listen, I really am sor--”

“It’s not all your fault--”

The two of you laugh lightly, tension coating the conversation. Your eyes glance around at anything but Heather’s face before finally meeting her gaze and nodding for her to go first.

She clears her throat, adjusting her position on the stool before starting again.

“It’s not all your fault that my marriage fell apart. I mean, yeah, you’ve got some culpability in the fact that you were having an affair with Joel, but he also told me that you had been with him before we even dated. And, as a woman myself and someone who fell for Joel, my best guess is that you’ve been in love with him since that first time. And Joel told me - what he felt for you the whole time, too. I just, I wanted to say to you that I don’t blame you. Joel is the one who made a stupid, selfish decision that affected both of us. Having an affair with him? Yeah, not really great, but I’ve thought about it for a while, and I would’ve done the same if it were my first husband. He was the love of my life, and I never wanted to lose him. So, yeah. I wanted to tell you that I understand. And I completely despise what everyone says about you. It’s disgusting, and I’m so sorry you have to hear that all the time.”

She’s apologizing to you. The woman whose husband you had an affair with. Granted, she was right that you were together once before they even dated. And that you’ve loved him ever since. But there is actually no sane world in which she should be apologizing to you. Have you made the impression that you were expecting this? Was she feeling guilty towards you?

All of these thoughts eat away at you, crashing around your mind and making that burning pressure alive again in your gut. You chew your lip, eyes wide, and stare a thousand miles away. Remorse overtakes your mind, words caught in your throat.

Why couldn’t she have just come in here guns blazing? Screamed at you? Called you all those names you’ve heard for weeks?

Her being cruel would be way better than her being kind, understanding even.

It makes your chest tighten, air squeezed out of your lungs in a panic.

You have to say something, so your voice squeaks a response.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry, too. I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just-I couldn’t let him go.”

Heather nods, a glint of a past life in her eyes. She presses her lips in a tight line before exhaling deeply. Standing from the stool, she nods again, giving you a quick goodbye and making her way out.

She really only came here to say that to you. To apologize.

You're an utter piece of shit, guilt, and shame finally filling your lungs and stealing your breath away from you.

Quickly, you turn to your nearest coworker, mumbling out an excuse that you need to leave early. Instead of waiting for any confirmation, you all but run out of the building, feet carrying you past Joel’s house with the lights still on, and past your old little cottage that now sits dormant. The overgrown lawn tugs at your heart, begging you to take care of it again. You turn back towards Joel’s, seeing him laughing with Ellie through the window, and the tugs on your heart pull harder towards them.

You pass the residential area, approaching the site you haven’t seen in months. Following around the tattered, weather-worn red siding of the old barn, the open grazing field comes into full view. You climb over the split-rail fence, mind reeling over what tonight has entailed while muscle memory carries you to the small clearing in the tall grasses.

Not even realizing you were holding your breath, a sigh escapes your lips. Dewy earth dampens the seat of your jean shorts, the sticky summer air keeping you warm. Thighs press to your chest and your arms envelope around your knees. You rest your chin in between your kneecaps, eyes combing up to the night sky above you. The lack of light pollution these days has made the stars brighter against the deep blue atmosphere. They blur from the tears welling in your eyes, one blink creating tiny streams on your face. They feed into the ocean of guilt and shame that you’ve made your home, the feeling of it’s waters choking your lungs to breath out sobs.

You sit like that for a while, fuzzy constellations kaleidoscoping in your vision. Your attention is only pulled away from the midnight blue when you hear a twig snap. Turning over your shoulder, the back of you hand wipes your eyes clear to see Joel standing behind you. Hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he stands tense and looks down at you softhearted and doleful.

Without an invitation, he closes the gap between you, groaning quietly as he bends down to take the spot next to you. You’re transported back to countless nights before, Joel and you under the same sky to spend your fleeting time together before sunrise.

“Got real worried when you didn’t come home when you usually do. Checked the bar first, and your old place. Guess I should’ve had the thought to come here a lot sooner.” His voice is low, gentle timbre vibrating the tightness in your chest and giving some slack to the taut pull of it.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just--I couldn’t go home right away. I didn’t want to ruin your night with Ellie…” your own voice is meek, cracking slightly from disuse. You sniffle, the back of your hand swiping under your nose and the heel of your palm rubbing the tear stains from your cheeks. The evidence of your emotion makes you embarrassed; here you were, your anxious fears coming true -- you’re officially a burden to Joel. He’s had to cut his night short with his daughter, traipsing around town to try to find you because you couldn’t bother to swallow your sorrow and head home like normal.

“Darlin’, you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay that you needed time alone, but even if you had come home, you wouldn’t have ruined our night. We love you…” he clears his throat, tender touches tucking hair behind your ears and rubbing the nape of your neck before continuing, “What’s wrong, baby? What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s nothin’. It’s nothin’, I’m fine. Just, tough night at work…” You lie through your teeth, avoiding Joel’s gaze to keep the facade. One look in your eyes and you know he’d see right through you.

“It’s clearly not nothin’ if you’re crying about it, darlin’. You can tell me anything. I wanna help you, be there for you, protect you. Did someone say something to you? Something mean?”

Your eyes snap up to him, the knowing look on his face cluing you in that he’s known about what’s being said around town. You don’t really know what hurts more in the moment - the fact that he knew all of these horrible things were being said and he didn’t comfort you or that you’ve already been a burden to him, already been another problem for him for much longer than you thought.

You think about lying to him, but you know he would be able to tell - he can always tell - instead opting to just break down the damn of everything you’ve been feeling, letting it all rush out at once.

“It’s all of it. Everything that people are saying about me, it feels like it’s the truth. I did break up a marriage. I did have an affair for months with you; you were someone’s husband. I love you, but it doesn’t negate the fact that what happened was still wrong on some level. And what everyone’s saying about what I did, it’s made this sea of guilt and shame and I’m drowning in it. I can’t keep my head clear above water, it’s all consuming right now. And I feel so anxious about being a burden to you. You’ve been so happy lately, with us being together and living together and Ellie being adjusted. You’re so much lighter, floating even. I couldn’t bear to drag you under with me when you finally caught your breath.” It all tumbles out of you in a stream of consciousness, and in the end, Joel is silent as he takes it all in.

The thought occurs to you that you’ve been wanting to know how Joel has felt about all of it. You haven’t talked about it at all; if he felt just the same guilt and shame, maybe it could help you both work to absolve your sins. If you were in it together, then maybe you had a chance to make it to land.

“Sweet girl, I hate that you’ve been feeling that way. And I hate that you thought you couldn’t tell me, just cause I’ve been happy to have you finally and I feel like we’re creating a lil’ family. But, I have to say, I ain’t got any regrets. I’ve got you now, I’ve got you in our home and with my daughter, it’s all that matters to me. I couldn’t care less about anything that people are saying about you, it makes me pissed, but getting angry at ‘em just fuels the fire. We can just move on, darlin’. We should just live our lives, fuck whoever doesn’t want to be happy for us.”

Bile creeps up and scorches your throat, a whirlpool swirling in your stomach and the choking feel back in your lungs. You hold it all in, letting Joel wrap his arms around you and pull you up to take you home.

Does he really have no regrets? Would he still get married if he was given another chance? Would he still choose to put you through this pain that has been a constant dull in your heart for the last year and a half? Would he choose the path that makes you the target of so much contempt, disgust, antipathy from so many?

Those thoughts have plagued you for days now. You had swallowed your searing pain, the guilt cold in your lungs as the hurt settled in your stomach, seeping throughout your body to make your limbs tender and heavy. Every step felt like it took too much effort, every fake smile plastered on your face made your cheeks sore in the wrong way. You had become a method actor in your own life, optimistic contentment used as a mask to hide the truth. You went through the motions of the days off you had, enjoying breakfast with Joel and Ellie, laughing at their bickering, and making them both their favorite way to eat eggs - Joel’s scrambled and Ellie’s over medium. You were a family, just as Joel had said, and you were playing the role of the dutiful, delighted partner.

Once they both left for the day, you deflated. Took off the mask and stared at yourself in the mirror, taste of bitter metal in your mouth as you watched the remorse, the regret crawl out of your chest and into your eyes, across your face. It disgusted you, angered you, yet you forced yourself to study it, punished yourself because everyone had told you that you should.

That was how it had gone for the last handful of days. Today was your first day back at work, and you got ready outside of the bathroom to avoid facing the hideous manifestations of your sins. Exiting your shared bedroom, your face pulled tight again, smile ghosting across your lips and eyes crinkled with subtle joy. Joel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling to lace up his boots. At the sight of you, he grinned and stood up, hands reaching for your waist and pulling you in for a chaste kiss.

Part of you wondered if he could taste it on you - the bitter, sour feeling that sat in your mouth. How much his lack of regret had crumbled any resolve you had left, any room for forgiveness you had in yourself.

He walked you to work before heading off on patrol. Walking inside, you instantly wanted to turn back and hide away at home for weeks longer. The thought of having to keep up your act for the whole night was making you nauseous. An hour into your shift, you couldn’t take the feeling anymore, so you snuck a shot of whiskey to attempt to take the edge off. The tingle of the alcohol soothed the lump in your throat, warming your cold chest and settling your woozy stomach. It gave you a break, for just a moment.

You chased that moment of peace all night, taking pulls whenever you could. You chatted more with patrons and coworkers, bubbling up giggles as your brain shut off from your inebriation. It was so tranquil to not have that frigid shame in your lungs, the thoughts of all that has been said to hurt you in the last few months silenced, even the voice of Joel saying he has zero regrets about what he’d done is muffled.

No wonder why Joel got drunk all the time at the beginning of this. It’s the only medicine that works for guilt.

By the end of your shift, you’re nearly wasted. Not quite to a level where you’ve lost motor skills but to the point where your eyes lids feel heavy, your vision is blurred on the edges, and your words start to slur together. When you’ve snuck to the backroom to take another swig, pushing the limit of how drunk you can get in the next ten minutes before your shift ends, Joel saunters into the bar. His eyes scan the room for any sight of you, pouting slightly when he comes up empty. Tommy’s working tonight, so he makes his way over to the end of the bar where his brother stands. Joel leans against the counter, nodding a greeting to Tommy and asking where you’re at.

Tommy looks at him, lips pressed together and eyebrows raised. He glances back at the entrance to the stockroom before leaning in.

“She’s back there. Probably downing a couple more shots of whiskey.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his brow shoots up, a look of shock at what Tommy’s said. It’s not like you to drink at work, hell, you barely ever have a nightcap when the place is all cleared out. Joel can count the number of times he’s seen you drunk on one hand, and this is certainly not an occasion that would have you indulging. He clears his throat, eyes focused back on his brother.

“She’s drinking at work? Is she drunk?”

As Tommy opens his mouth to respond, the door to the stockroom swings on its hinges and you stumble out while whistling. The moment would normally make Joel chuckle, the way you’re completely carefree is somewhat endearing to him. But right now, he can’t help but worry that something else has happened to make you upset, and this time you’ve taken a coping mechanism out of his book.

Your mouth forms a perfect circle, surprise washing over your expression as you look around for anyone to share your reaction. A small burp comes from behind the hand you put up to your mouth, down turning your gaze away from him. Feet shuffle along to Joel, arms crossing over your chest as if the warmth in your chest will heat you up like sitting in front of a fire.

“Well, hello there, darlin’. Feeling good?” He chuckles lightly to hide his concern, Tommy backing up from the two of you and quickly making an exit from what is bound to be a bit of an awkward moment.

Painted smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, hand reaching for his as a hiccup shoots from your chest.

“Guess so. Turned my brain off for the night, ‘was nice.” It was just what he was panicked about. That you had done what he had done so many months ago, gotten drunk out of his mind to grapple with all the remorse he had felt constantly.

He hated that you felt the same. He was the reason you were going through this. His actions hurt you, even beyond the time that you were his secret. He failed to pull you out with himself, leaving you to take on the weight of all that he had done, sinking you deeper while he had made it to the surface.

A stiff smile stretches across his face, hand reaching for the small of your back to guide you home.

“Alright, let’s get you home, sweet girl. Think you might need to clock out for the night.” He sends Tommy a wave and you turn to do the same, tripping over your feet. Joel catches you at your waist, righting you on your way out. He keeps a hand on you, eyes trained on your profile to keep watch. You keep your stare ahead, silencing falling over the two of you.

The fresh air has sobered you up some, thoughts infesting your mind again. The alcohol has kept you from getting back into the act that you’ve kept up around Joel, even working your blood to boil with anger towards him for the words that have been branded into your heart.

I ain’t got any regrets.

“Fucking bullshit.” You think out loud and the words stop Joel in his tracks. Brows furrow in confusion as his lips pucker to one side.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“It’s fucking bullshit, Joel.”

He laughs apprehensively, unsure of where this is going. The words cut with bitterness behind them, and he can see in your eyes there’s pain burning.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m gonna need a little more from you.” He tilts his head to the side, the line between his brow deepening.

You can’t hold it in any longer, a river of anguish, guilt, pain, and more rushing out of you.

“How you just can get over it! We can just act like everything’s fine and nothing is fucked up about the way we got together! And you can feel all the relief of not having to hide an affair from your wife anymore and not hiding me, but now I’ve been passed the massive fucking weight. Now I’m known as the homewrecker, the slut, the mistress. You’re still Joel. It’s always ‘There’s Joel and the homewrecker. She’s so bold to be able to be with him after she broke apart a marriage.’ It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water sometimes like this huge sea of guilt is going to drown me. I can’t understand how you can just have no regrets about it all when it’s hurt me so much. How I loved you, still love you so fucking much despite how much pain you’ve given to me. Purposefully or not, it all hurts the same. I’m so glad that you can show everyone that you love me, but I can’t keep pretending like we’re the picture-perfect couple and make a home together and live life now without addressing all of this shit. I can’t just pretend to be cool about it anymore.”

Tears have poured out of your eyes in the middle of everything, mixing with the runny nose that you sniffle back. You probably look a mess, but you can’t bring yourself to wipe it away. You want the sight to face Joel along with your words. You need him to see it all, to realize how much you’ve been harboring, how badly you need him to take some of the weight off of your chest before the water fully fills your lungs and takes you under completely.

Joel's tears burn his own eyes as he sees exactly what his stupidity has caused. He thought he could help you get over it by acting like he had moved on in hopes that you would do the same. That you guys could start fresh, leave it all behind. It was another stupid choice that he’d made. Of course, you couldn’t leave everything in the past; the way you built your relationship was in secret, hidden away. Of course, you should have been given reassurance when the two of you could finally be together. He should’ve shut everyone up instead of hoping that the insults and rumors would die out. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

He had more regrets now than he ever did.

His voice is thick when he finally responds, hand reaching up to grasp at the nape of your neck and the other on your cheek, holding your gaze in his.

“Of course I have regrets. I said that to try to put that thought in your head. I thought if you heard that I felt that way, you would start to feel it, too. That you could let go, be the carefree, light person that I fell in love with. That I am in love with. I am so sorry that you feel like you are carrying this all by yourself. I have so much remorse for the past. I tell myself every day that if I could go back, I would have never doubted what we could be together. That you loved me completely, that I wouldn’t fail you. I choose you, over it all. I love you so much, and I am so sorry that I’ve hurt you. You don’t ever have to pretend around me. I’m the only other person who could understand what you’re feeling, I want you to tell me everything. Yell at me, cry about it to me, whatever you need to do. But please, don’t keep it from me. I should’ve reassured you. I should’ve been honest with you. I should’ve protected you, told everyone in this fucking town what I think of anything they have to say. I am so sorry that I failed you. You’re it for me. This has to work. I will do anything to make this work and to make you happy, 'cause I have no clue what I’d do without you. I finally have my shot at a life with you, and I’m not giving that up.”

His words drive a knife into your chest - you realize that his biggest fear has come true. He’s failed you. Or thinks he’s failed you.

Yes, his actions have hurt you, but for a long time, you were choosing the pain. And yes, you’ve taken on the guilt for both of you, and you realize you are still choosing the pain, but this time it's all too much to take on alone.

Not once did you think he failed you. You’ve thought you would fail him, dull him, lose him. That you couldn’t work through your own shit to be happy with him. Both of you have avoided communicating and miscommunicated at the same time.

The two of you have been so absorbed in trying to give the other what you thought they needed, that you’ve ended up doing the opposite.

Truth was, that you both needed the same things from each other. You needed the other to fully knock down the walls, to be vulnerable, to be honest. You both tried so hard to placate the other, to make the other one feel better about everything, that you’ve ended up on completely opposite ends.

You can’t help but laugh. Only the two of you could be so troubled with trying to make the other happy, at ease, or content that you end up making it worse. It hasn't been easy for the last year and a half, and as soon as it could be, you've found ways to complicate it.

Joel stares at you quizzically, the sound relaxing his concern. He can’t help the grin that tugs at his lips, shaking his head in disbelief at you.

“Okay, did I say something funny? Or wrong? Is this whole thing about to be over and you’re laughing maniacally?”

That makes you giggle more, tears of laughter now rolling down your perked-up face. You catch your breath, inhaling a few times through your chuckles to finally calm down enough to speak. You press your hands to his chest in reassurance, shaking your head with a genuine smile aching your cheeks.

“No, no. Absolutely not. That was - that was exactly what I needed to hear. I just - I’m sorry, I’m laughing because we are both so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, sweet girl, it’s only me --”

“Nah, uh huh. Both. I don’t mean to call you stupid, maybe silly is a better word. We’ve just -- we’ve been so focused on trying to spare the other, to make the other happy that we’ve totally missed what we both needed. And what we need from each other is exactly the same.”

“And what is that?” His confusion has lessened, but still hasn’t left. What’s vanished has been replaced with a content smirk quipped up to the side.

“Being honest. Being vulnerable. Communicating. I should have told you how I was feeling this whole time so that you could understand, and I should have known that I could come to you even though I thought I would be a burden. I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. We're in this together.”

The light bulb goes off for him, eyes brightening as he comes to his own realization.

“No need to apologize, darlin'. Like you said, 'm just as guilty in this mess. We chose each other -- we should be partners, not adversaries. I should’ve been honest about how I felt about everything that happened. I shouldn’t've pretended everything was fine.”

You nod, tender smile as you stare into his eyes. Your expressions have softened, tears have dried, and every bit of pain has been replaced with forgiveness, perspective, and love. Joel chuckles himself, and you break into a fit of giggles together.

“God, we really are a pair of fools, huh?” Joel’s voice is light, teeth pulling his bottom lip under them as he gazes down at you in his arms.

“Wound up as bad comedians mocking our own lives. The creators of our own suffering.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else, darlin’. But, do you think we could come up with something new? Maybe something actually fun?”

That makes you laugh again, Joel’s chest warming at your joy. His hands fall from your neck and face, snaking around your waist to hold you close. You nod in agreement with a gentle, content grin.

“Only the good stuff from here on out. Maybe we can even sprinkle in some shitty puns?”

“Oh yeah? Got any on your mind? Hit me, I’ll decide if it gets added to the act.”

You think for a moment, a cheeky smirk twisting your mouth.

“Hmm…how about “You must be a planet, and I must be a moon, 'cause I totally revolve around you!”

Joel’s head rolls back with a grumble of laughter, a grimace on his face once he looks at you again, shaking his head.

“'M sorry, darlin’, but that is so bad.”

“Okay, well you try it then!” The two of you start your walk back to your home, tangled up in each other. You pinch his side at the rejection, looking up expectantly.

“What did Neil Armstrong say when no one laughed at his moon jokes? I guess you had to be there!” He laughs as if it’s the funniest thing, and the dad joke gives you the slightest chuckle.

“Oh, c’mon, how is that any better than mine?”

“Cause it’s actually funny! Can’t help that I’m such a natural-born comic.”

“That is such a lie. You definitely got that from ‘No Pun Intended: Volume Too.’ I know your sources, Miller.”

“Fine, fine. You got me there. Guess we'll just have to let Ellie choose the winner.”

You smile at the thought of returning home to her, warmth in your chest melting some of the guilt away as you reach the door. The two of you tumble inside together, giggling away. You toe off your shoes, and Joel watches from the entryway as he unties his boots. Flopping down on the couch next to his daughter, you’re immediately rolling into the story behind the little competition that she’s going to be the judge of. He takes in the sight under the warm lamplight, happiness swelling in his chest as he watches the two people in front of him start to playfully bicker back and forth about the best kind of joke.

It might not be a sheep ranch on the moon, but it’s certainly his dream come true.

taglist: @joelsversion @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @aleatoria2000 @thelightnessofthebeing @mangosandmimosas @runestavia @dianaffddz @beee-haw @bigboiseason123 @xyz32 @mrsvedder12 @tuquoquobrute @moriartyyouwhore @justsumtuffstuff @tryingtonotcryconstantly @alymaliktommo @cambleuu @iwrotethissky @pascalislove @pedr0swh0r3 @agentwhiskeysgf @jenna-ortega @juniperandthornz @wildwollff @pascals-djarin @missfeanor @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lil-stark @gracie7209 @pedrostories @nic0lodean @mymultiveres @v-mack @theelishad @cutie-with-that-booty @danelleee @harriedandharassed @mingiast (tagging some more mutuals, lmk if you want to be removed <3) @johnwatsn @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @midnightswithdearkatytspb @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight

[remy2fang]

The timeline of M. Bison between SFV and SF6

SFV

- Ryu defeated M. Bison

- M. Bison died (???)

SF6

- Fast forward to SF6, M. Bison woke up in an alley in Metro City and have no memories.

- He beat the crap out of some street punks and stole their clothes.

- During his search for power, he revived a horse in Mexico and named him Rosinante. He rode him around the world.

- He eventually enters the Neo Shadaloo Ruined Lab because the powers there drew him in.

- He eventually gained some of his memories back by absorbing the Phantom Bison from the psycho power memory generator.

What happened between SFV and SF6? Some clues were found both in-game and from an interview.

- M. Bison wasn’t sure himself, but he conjectured that he must’ve been a rogue spare body and that’s why he’s where he is now.

- According to devs, this is the same M. Bison body from SFV because the cracks and scar from his hand came from his ultimate showdown with Ryu. The fight rendered him as an amnesiac. I’ll take the words from the devs over Bison’s fuzzy memory lol.

- When talking to F.A.N.G aka Fang Fei, he mentioned that Bison’s return was “too soon.” He even mentioned the possibility that a spare body might’ve been activated by mistake, but he wasn’t too sure himself. He then said this Bison is a fake and is imperfect because he doesn’t remember him (but this Bison IS the real deal).

What do I think from all of this?

Bison’s time between SFV and SF6 is a mystery, but the last person that saw Bison’s demise was F.A.N.G. As Bison seemingly “deteriorated” in A Shadow Falls, his body was obscured by both the debris and a distraught F.A.N.G, making his “death” ambiguous. Sometime later, we found out that F.A.N.G believes that Bison is “not truly dead” in the three-part side story TOXICITY.

But then what happened between SFV and Toxicity then? Based on what F.A.N.G said of Bison coming back “too soon” in World Tour mode, that indicates that he knew the estimated timing of when Bison should be fully resurrected (or recovered). If that’s the case, it is possible that F.A.N.G had a hand in “reviving” Bison (the scarred body version from the end of SFV), at least for the initial process. He even mentioned about spare bodies, so that means F.A.N.G might have been present in a lab during the early period. But because the process would take years, F.A.N.G decided to let the reawakening do its thing and have people he employed to look after Bison’s body. From then on, F.A.N.G probably didn’t pay Bison a visit and would assume Bison would come to him when he’s fully awaken. Either F.A.N.G is delusional or there might have been an actual odd camaraderie between him and Bison. I don’t know lol.

If Bison returned too soon, who woke him up in the first place and dumped him off at Metro City? It could be JP because he wanted to do something with him and Ed. But if JP wanted to do something with them, he would have kept Bison close by then, which he didn’t. It’s still possible that JP activated Bison’s body early, but someone else could possibly had their own motives and dropped an amnesiac Bison in a dark Metro City alley. Who could this person be then? That might be revealed in a later update…or not lol. Nevertheless, Bison now resides in the Neo Shadaloo ruined lab…perhaps the pieces are settling in place for JP’s plans afterall…

These are just my thoughts based on what the lore from the game, interview, and side story from the official SFV website provided. It doesn’t confirm anything, but it’s something to get off from my chest. Hopefully the next update will continue on with the Shadaloo story through sub missions.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 2

AU Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: T (language, sexual themes, mentions of drugs)

Minors DNI. 18+ content!

Scene 1 Scene 3

Summary: Joel returns to the Tipsy Bison with his mind on one thing only after doing business near the border. Even though he feels out of practice, he somehow manages to get the girl, until she finds the literal gun in his pants.

A week goes by, Indi works another three nights without seeing him again. She thinks about that night more than she’d like to admit. After the initial shock had worn off, she realized how incredibly hot it was for this silver fox to come out of nowhere and stand up for her. Yes, he was a little intense for someone simply bumping into her, but something about those dark eyes and broad shoulders had her pulse fluttering and thighs clenching. 

It was a slower night, and she had just closed out her last tab. It wasn’t even nine yet and the place was looking dead. She leaned on the bar at the service well, helping Jared cut limes. 

“Like is it me? Am I the problem? Is there something on my face that says I like being played by idiots with nice butts?” Jared ranted, slicing a lime in half with much more force than needed.

“Of course not,” Indi said with a small smile, always there for her friend’s dating rants.

“Like I swear, Michael, the last guy I was talking to,” he went on, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out in disgust, “I swear, his entire goal in life is to be as petty as the Greek gods, this man could not just let things go,” he huffed. 

“Michael was the one with the nose ring, right?” she clarified.

“Yeah, hot piercings, huge dick, no communication skills whatsoever,” he grumbled.

“I think your energy just attracts people wanting to steal it,” she said thoughtfully, “plus you have a nice butt, so that doesn’t help,” she adds, leading both to laugh for a moment. 

“Hey Jared, it’s dead tonight, I’ll keep an eye on the bar, why don’t you head out early?” Tommy offered, coming up to them from the other end.

“Oh hell yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice,” Jared said, immediately perking up, “Is it cool if I hang out here for a bit though? I have food on the way,” he admitted.

“Sure kid, I’ll even pour you a drink while you wait,” Tommy shrugged with that easygoing smile Indi had grown to enjoy. 

He wasn’t here every night, but tried to show up for a bit as often as possible. She’d learned that this is more of a side business for him, his real work being with Joel doing construction or contracting or something. 

“Want a shot, Indi?” Tommy asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

“I’m on the clock though?” she pointed out softly, obviously confused by his offer.

Both Tommy and Jared let out a short laugh, Jared coming around the bar to sling his arm around her and playfully pinch her cheek. She retaliated by elbowing him in the ribs with a small pout.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, a shot or two never hurt no one, plus it’s not like we’re doing much tonight anyways,” Tommy said, smoothly pouring two shots of whiskey and a shot of vodka at Indi’s request, sliding a glass to the two on the other side of the bar.

They tapped their glasses together, each one throwing the shot back with practiced ease. Tommy didn’t miss the slight grimace on her face though after she had swallowed and shook her head. 

The trio looked up simultaneously when they heard someone enter. Indi could feel Jared tense up beside her, his arm still around her as they watched Joel walk over to the same corner table as before, sitting with his back to the wall, eyes on his phone as he sent a text. God, he was gorgeous, ruffled hair, heavy boots, and a light coating of dust on his pants. 

“Ah shit, here comes trouble,” Tommy said, grabbing a glass from the drying rack and pouring a double shot of bourbon, “here Indi, take this over to ‘m, I already know he’ll start his bullshit if I go over there,” he explained, sliding the rocks glass towards her.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she accepted the glass, wrapping a napkin around the bottom.

“He won’t talk shop if he’s got a pretty face distractin’ ‘im,” Tommy explained with a sly wink, turning around before she could argue to check on the few barflies that still remained.

“Good luck, dude,” Jared said with a scoff, removing his arm with a knowing smirk, having heard about Joel’s previous antics from the other waitresses.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to do the one thing she’d been hired to do - bring a drink to someone. Moving slowly across the concrete floor, she approached Joel’s table, setting the glass down between them. He looked up from his phone momentarily, his eyes widening briefly as he realized it was her.

“Hey sugar,” he greeted her coolly, tucking his phone into his pocket, not even bothering to finish the message he was typing, “Appreciate it,” he said, nodding to the drink, but not touching it.

“Do…you want something else?” she asked cautiously, unsure of whether he usually ordered something different. 

Joel’s gaze drifted slowly from the top of her head to her feet. She sported some black thigh high socks with little ribbons just above her knees this time. Paired with the usual black top and pleated black skirt, Joel felt his cock twitch at the sight of her. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. He was glad that the Bison was basically empty, besides the same  few old fucks who practically lived in those bartstools near the TVs. 

“Why don’t you keep me company for a bit? I’m sure Tommy won’t mind. ‘s not like you're busy, right?” he suggested, sitting a little straighter as she blinked at him with those gorgeous wide eyes. 

“I, um…o-okay,” she agreed before her nerves could talk herself out of it. 

That deep voice seasoned with his southern drawl and those mesmerizing dark eyes had her terrified and excited at the same time. Something about the older man looking at her like a hungry predator, a tall, dark-haired, gorgeous predator who she would happily lay herself out for if he wanted to feast on her dripping wet-.

“Darlin? You okay?” he asked, breaking her concentration. 

She realized she had just been standing and staring at him for longer than what was probably necessary. With a short nod and timid smile, she reached for the chair directly across from him. The slight jump of surprise when she was met with resistance had her looking down at the chair, noticing his boot hooked on one of the legs, keeping it in place.

“Why so far away, sweetheart? Gonna have to sit a lil’ closer, got bad hearing in one ear,” he explained easily, stretching his arm to pull out the chair directly to his left. 

“O-okay,” she agreed, moving quickly to take a seat, feeling awkward and exposed under his heated stare. 

Once seated, Joel brought his arm around the back of her chair. She sat straight up, not even touching the backrest, but she could still feel the heat from him radiating against her bare arms. 

“How’s your first week been? Anyone givin’ you any trouble?” he asked, spreading his legs a little wider, leaning back comfortably in his chair, his fingers silently tapping against his still-full glass. 

“It’s good, no trouble at all, actually. I’m liking it here a lot,” she said, turning to check the bar only to find Tommy and Jared watching them, whispering to each other conspiratorially. 

“Don’t mind them,” Joel spoke softly, drawing her attention back to him, “I’m glad they haven’t scared you off yet, would hate to lose a pretty thing like you,” he continued, finally lifting the drink to his lips, speaking the last part around the rim before finishing the content in one swift movement.

“R-really?” she asked softly, her cheeks feeling warm from his words, her body buzzing eagerly as she smiled bashfully.

“Really, really,” he agreed coolly, “Got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, darlin’,” he added, bringing his hand up to rub the pad of his thumb against her cheek, barely touching her, his eyes focussed on where their skin connected, reveling in the electric vibrations he felt with each graze of her skin.

“You tell that to all your waitresses?” she questioned with a teasing little smirk.

Joel chuckled, closing his eyes with a light shake of his head. His little kitten had some fire in her, a spark of sass barely peeking above the surface just then. It made him want to know more, to see every color of her. Dropping his hand, he brought his arm around the back of her chair again, gripping the side and suddenly pulling her closer to him. The scrape of the wood on the cement floors had the handful of occupants looking their way. He noticed her slight jump afterwards.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he said with another low chuckle, leaning closer to her, “This okay?”

“Y-yeah…this is okay,” she agreed, sounding breathless as his scent invaded her senses. 

He couldn’t help himself. Now that she was so close and he could smell her perfume mixed with her natural scent, see the goosebumps along her arm, and heard the little uptake in her breath when he leaned closer. The details were heightened even more than that first night and Joel just couldn’t get enough. 

“And to answer your question, you’re the only waitress I’m tellin’ this to,” he said, admiring the growing tint of pink on her cheeks.

Everything in his body was screaming at him to kiss her, to take her home and ravish her. He wanted to hear every little noise she could make for him, feel the goosebumps on her skin, mark her as his own. His cock was aching in his pants as she batted her lashes, looking up at him so innocently, those pouty lips begging to be kissed raw. 

Joel made the mistake of looking over her shoulder, finding Tommy staring at them. When the brothers' eyes met, Tommy arched his brow in question. Joel had never made a move on any of the waitresses before. Hell, Joel hadn’t made a move in so long, Tommy had just assumed he’d given up on things like that. Jared was also watching closely, holding a to-go box close to his chest, stuffing his face with Thai food as he watched his friend get hit on by the biggest, most dangerous crime lord this side of the Mississippi.

The lack of privacy made Joel suddenly uncomfortable. His mind and body were too aware of their surroundings when less than thirty seconds ago, he was ready to pull Indi against him and kiss her innocence away. He chooses to lean back in his seat instead, his arm still around the back of her chair but still not touching. 

“Tommy said you go to UT, must mean you’re pretty and smart,” he commented.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she scoffed, her blush only growing as she fidgeted in her seat, looking down at her hands.  

Joel followed her gaze, his attention drawn to her tattoo. He could now see all the finer details. It was an intricate piece of crescent moons, line art and stars. Wanting to get her to relax a little, he asked her about it. She told him a little about the design itself and why she got it. He then asked about the one on her shoulder. She turned in her seat, bringing her hair to one side as she showed him the ink on her shoulder blade. 

He could tell she wasn’t the biggest fan of talking about herself by the limited details and questions directing the focus back to him that seemed to follow her answers.

“Want something to drink? On me of course,” he offered after a lull in the conversation, finding any excuse to keep her beside him. 

“I’m technically still working,” she said, that gorgeous smile making it hard for Joel to focus on her words. 

“Well let’s change that, huh?” he suggested with a smirk, getting up from the table, heading right towards Tommy who was restocking the bar, Jared nowhere in sight. 

“Can I have my employee back, now that you’ve got her all flustered and shit?” his brother teased.

“Actually, I was gonna suggest you send ‘er home for the night,” Joel said, glancing over his shoulder to find Indi making her way over to them. 

“Who’s going to close if I send ‘er home?” Tommy questioned with a scowl, but Joel could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“Your bar, you close,” Joel shrugged, “Let her take the night, Tommy, come on,” he insisted with a scowl of his own. 

“Who’s getting sent home?” Indi asked, coming to stand beside Joel, looking so small next to his larger form. 

“Apparently you,” Tommy said with a snicker.

“Joel,” she said, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and exasperation, “you can’t just do  that…”

It was the first time she had actually said his name to him. The syllables on her lips were world-shattering for him, his name never sounding so sweet until she uttered it. He wanted to hear her say his name over and over again. He briefly wondered what she would sound like wrapped in his arms, head thrown back in pleasure…

“Joel…Joel!” Tommy snapped, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Joel huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Up to you, darlin’, if you want to stay, I’m closin’ up in the next couple hours anyways, wasting money keeping an empty bar open,” Tommy said to her.

Joel looked down at her, watching her expression as she contemplated the offer. The way she bit her lower lip as she considered her options had him wanting to bite her lip with his own teeth, among other places. 

“I guess I could use a night off,” she said slowly after the long silence.

Without realizing it, Joel felt his shoulders relax just a touch. She looked between the two men, like she wanted to say something else. Joel resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close, feel her body against his own, offer some sort of comfort. Tommy set two shot glasses down, pouring something clear in one before sliding it over to Indi. He opted for well whiskey in the other, taking it for himself. Joel raised his brow questioningly at his brother. 

“Oh I’m sorry, you want me to pour your drink too, princess?” Tommy asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes with a grin as he set another glass in front of Joel along with his preferred bourbon. 

“You’re cut off, asshole,” Joel huffed, easily pouring a shot for himself, feeling Indi watching their interaction with a little grin. 

“Can’t cut off the boss,” Tommy fired back, raising his glass to the two of them before downing it. 

Indi followed suit, taking her shot like a champ with minimal cringing. Joel couldn’t help but notice how cute her little scrunched up expression was as she swallowed her shot. He tipped back the contents of his own glass with ease, downing it like water, exhaling slowly through his nose as he set his glass down.

“Last I checked, I’m the boss,” he reminded his brother, “Get your stuff, darlin’, I’ll drive you home,” he added to Indi before he could consider how that might come off to her. 

She giggled, seeming less affected by his gruff directness. “Yes, sir,” she said with a playful smile, walking towards the back room to collect her things, her response stoking that fire she’d started in him when he first saw her. 

Once she was out of hearing range, Tommy couldn’t contain his laughter. He continued to snicker even as Joel glared at him. 

“Since when do you drive anyone home besides yourself?” Tommy asked.

“Watch your mouth, baby brother, I’m not in the mood to deal with you tonight,” Joel grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“What are you even doin’ here, man? I thought you’d head straight home after gettin’ back from the border.”

“Wanted to stop by for a drink,” Joel muttered, looking down at the wooden bartop. 

“I know your liquor cabinet is stocked way better than what we got here, so cut the crap, Joel, just say you wanted t’ see ‘er,” Tommy responded, collecting the glasses and tossing them in the sink. 

“What’s it matter to you?” Joel questioned, feeling his defenses start to rise. 

“She’s a good worker, wouldn’t want to lose her because you don’t know how to ask a girl out,” he shrugged with a chortle. 

“Fuck off,” Joel fired back, ready to say more, but spotted Indi coming towards them with a bag on her shoulder. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked, noticing Tommy’s trembling shoulders as he tried to contain his snickering. 

“Nothin’, let’s go,” Joel said before his brother could open his mouth, bringing an arm around but still not touching her as he guided her towards the front door. 

“Y’all kids be safe now, y’ hear!” Tommy called after them, the echoes of his laughter following them out the door. 

Once they were outside, Joel noticed the only other car in the lot besides his truck was Tommy’s truck. Indi kept close to him as they walked towards his vehicle.

“You walk to work?” Joel asked, unlocking the truck and opening the passenger door for her. 

“Jared gave me a ride, my car’s in the shop right now,” she explained, climbing up into the seat. 

Once they were both buckled in, the truck started with a low rumble, the interior shaking momentarily from the force of the startup. She looked over at him with those eyes, that alluring gaze that suggested more than her innocent demeanor would leave others to believe. He swallowed the dryness in his throat, realizing they’re now completely alone, the dimly lit parking lot casting shadows across them as he looked her over. 

He shifted his body towards, one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the edge of the center console. In the enclosed space, her scent invaded all his senses, overwhelming his mind. 

“You know, I could hear Tommy from the break room,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap, an coy grin on her face. 

“Oh yeah?” he replied stiffly, feeling his stomach drop at her revelation, fearing Tommy’s big mouth had somehow fucked up any chance he had with getting close to her. 

“Is it true?” she asked, glancing nervously up at him.

“Is what true, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his eyes drawn to her lips as she turned her body towards him, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning slightly on the center console towards him.

“That you came here because…you wanted to, um, see…me?” she asked hesitantly. 

He bit his lip, his eyes drifting down to her own lips, so close and so inviting. Amusement spread across her features as her lips twitched up into a small grin. Joel tried opening his mouth once, twice, three times but nothing came out. He must have looked like a damn fish, completely at a loss of words and floundering painfully. 

“If it was true?” he finally choked out, his body thrumming with nerves.

God he felt so pathetic, fucking fifty years old and stumbling over a girl like a damn teenager. She reached across the console to put her hand just above his denim-covered knee, still a bit dusty from having to shoot a guy in the middle of the desert, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“I’d be very happy if it was true,” she said softly, squeezing his leg lightly.

He huffed out a breath of relief, a nervous laugh breaking the stillness around them. Looking down at her hand on his leg, brought his own hand, much larger and rougher, over hers. She watched as he brought her hand to his lips, the edge of his mustache tickling her knuckles as he pressed his lips to her fingers. She could feel the slight tremble in his hand as he exhaled slowly.

“Joel?” she asked gently, her eyes focussed on where his lips pressed against her skin.

“Yeah, sugar?” he mumbled against her fingers, eyes closing slowly as he inhaled her scent. 

She squeezed his hand, causing him to open his eyes and realize she had inched closer, her face dangerously close to his own, her body now leaning fully over the middle console. He shuddered, feeling his heart start to beat a mile a minute, threatening to burst out of his chest. 

“Will you kiss me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced between his eyes and his mouth.

“Anything you want,” he agreed before closing the space between them, both his hands coming up to hold her face.

The kiss started slow and tender. Joel couldn’t help the satisfied groan when he was able to taste her lips, a hint of vodka mixed with her coconut chapstick. She allowed him to guide her, to lead the kiss and set the pace. The more he tasted, the more he wanted, his mouth beginning to move more fervidly, his tongue tracing her lips before sliding along her own. 

When his hand moved to hold the nape of her neck, she whimpered softly, her own fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. The little noise was enough to set Joel’s desire ablaze, his other hand sliding down her arm to grip her waist. Surprisingly Joel felt much more in control of himself then he expected he would be. He hadn’t kissed someone like this in so long, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do. 

“J-Joel,” she sighed against his mouth, “fuck, Joel,” she moaned, her eyes blissfully shut, head tilted back as his mouth drifted down her jaw to her neck, the scruff of his beard scratching deliciously against her skin. 

“Like how you say m’ name, sweetheart,” he muttered into the crook of her neck, biting lightly which earned a higher pitched moan and her fingers moving to tightly grip the hair at the back of his neck.

He brought his mouth back to hers, hungry for more, more of her taste, more of her sounds, just more of her. No amount of drugs could match the high he was feeling as her nails scratched lightly along the back of his neck and her mouth on his. One of her hands drifted down his chest, her palm tracing down side and up his back. Fuck, he never enjoyed someone touching him so much. 

Just as he was about to give in and pull her over the console into his seat, she tensed. Pulling back, he realized how heavily they were both breathing, one hand holding her jaw, the other on the curve of her hip, his thumb drawing small circles into the material of her shirt, itching to lift it up enough to feel her skin. 

“W-what’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked with half-lidded eyes, feeling how stiff her body suddenly became and how she had let go of his hair.

She was looking at him with wide eyes, almost like she was frozen in place. Joel suddenly realized where her other hand had stopped, at the curve of his lower back, close enough to his belt to graze the 9mm he had forgotten was on him. She leaned away from him, bringing her hands back to herself.

“Joel…is that a gun?”

Scene 3

[fanfreakinfiction]

Listen to the Music

Chapter One: Should've Been a Cowboy

Masterlist 🖤

7.3K Words // Joel Miller x f!southern Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x younger/southern!reader (Could be video game Joel or HBO Joel. I like the 2003 timeline though, so we’ll just pretend the 2003 timeline is canon for both.) 

Chapters: 

One - Should’ve Been a Cowboy 

Summary: Jackson gets a jukebox which mean’s Joel has to install it! Annoying for him, but exciting for one certain someone who loves music. 

Tags: Multipart, SUPER slowburn, eventual smut, FLUFF, age difference, M/F, canon type violence, drinking, smoking, alchol, reader gives off innocent vibes but isn’t, Joel is grumpy, reader is southern, corny ass music transitions bc i love it, slight mention of religion (reader is from the bible belt), some mentions of smut.

A/N: Set in Jackson - probably a little out of canon but just rollll wit it. This is also a split POV! Also if you love 90s country music you will like this. I made a Tipsy Bison Playlist for you guys to check out where none of the music was made past 2003. 

Jackson was buzzing, quite literally. Every corner you turned, someone was eager to share the latest news.

"Y/n! Did you hear? Jesse and Astrid brought back that jukebox from the ski lodge! They’re gonna fix it up and put it in the Tipsy Bison!" Olivia shouted breathlessly from the stables' entrance, her jet-black hair falling in disarray around her face.

"Hell 'liv, you ran all the way here to tell me that?" You chuckled, taking a break from shoveling muck in the stables. Your Southern drawl emerged breathy and unusual from not conversing with anyone for the past hour. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you greeted the teenage girl with a warm smile as she rushed to embrace you.

"Well, yeah! Mom said you liked music! Told me to come tell you! Said to meet her and Ginger there at 7:00 sharp!" Olivia exclaimed with contagious excitement.

You laughed, returning the embrace and appreciating the bond you'd formed with the young girl over the years.

The first friend you'd made upon arriving in Jackson was Caroline, a slender woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a mouth that matched yours. Hugging her hip was a young girl, Olivia, with jet-black hair and the same blue eyes. At the time, Olivia couldn't have been more than seven. In the four years since, Caroline had become like a sister to you, and Olivia like a niece. It was bittersweet watching her grow up, but you’d protect that little girl with your life.

"Well, your momma is right about that," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind Olivia's ear. "And I hate to tell ya, darlin', but Ellie beat you to it. I heard about the jukebox from her this morning." You turned Olivia towards Ellie, who was busy in the back of the stables, hunched over a worktable, oiling an old saddle Mike had found during a recent patrol.

"Ellie’s here?!" Olivia squealed, running off to join Ellie at the back of the stable.

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned back to your work, the girls' excited chatter filling the stables.

As 6 pm approached, Ellie abandoned the saddle for a conversation with Olivia. Although it irritated you slightly, it also warmed your heart to see Olivia making friends her age. In this post-apocalyptic world, friends were a rare commodity, especially outside of safe havens like Jackson.

You were only five years old when outbreak day happened. Your parents were at work, and you were at daycare. You vaguely recalled your daycare teacher trying to stay calm, but panic eventually overtook her as she locked all the children in the bathroom. Your grandparents, miraculously, arrived to rescue you. Your grandfather, a Vietnam Vet who’d served two tours before leaving the military, was also a grizzled cowboy. He owned a ranch where he boarded and broke horses.

The most vivid memory you had of outbreak day was your grandfather bursting into the daycare with a .308 Winchester in hand, calling for you frantically. You recalled him nearly pulling your arms out as he scooped you up, then handing you over to your crying grandmother. Your grandfather reprimanded the daycare teacher sternly, instructing her to get the kids to a military outpost at the airport and then evacuate Tulsa. The exact words had faded from your memory.

You remembered the scent of your grandmother's perfume as you clung to her while she carried you out of the daycare. Fighter jets roared overhead, and you covered your ears as your grandmother hurried to their old Jeep. Your grandfather opened the passenger door for your grandmother, and she kissed your head. During the two-hour drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to his ranch, your grandmother had you play a game called "Keep Your Eyes On Jesus," where you'd focus on the silver cross necklace she always wore. That day marked the end of your life in the city and your chances of making friends. Your childhood died on the daycare bathroom floor.

"Helloooo, earth to Miss Y/l/n?!" Ellie's voice suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts as you continued to organize bridles, leads, and cinches.

You turned abruptly. "Hmm?" was all you managed as you met Ellie's gaze.

Ellie pointed to her empty wrist, giving you a knowing look. “It’s 6:20,” she said, her tone almost teasing.

"Shit," you murmured, quickly shoving tack items back into makeshift storage bins. Ellie laughed as she headed out of the stables with Olivia in tow.

---

Joel was exhausted, bone-deep tired. His knees ached, his back throbbed, and a relentless headache pounded behind his eyes. All this fuss over a damn jukebox.

Now, don't get him wrong; Joel loved music as much as the next person, and he understood why the whole town was buzzing with excitement. But he felt like people were acting as if they'd found a cure for the infection, not an old jukebox.

And yet, there he was, in the Tipsy Bison, helping to secure the wiring for the ancient contraption. A small crowd of men gathered around, drinks in hand, watching him work. Not a single one offered to help, and Joel knew why, but it still irked him to have the entire town gawking at him.

"You got time for leanin', you got time for cleanin'," Joel's dad used to say when he and Tommy were watching him work.

"Will it work?" Seth's voice interrupted his thoughts from over the bar.

Joel responded with a grunt as he connected two wires, causing the jukebox to spring to life. The bar fell silent, and Joel felt a wave of annoyance—or perhaps embarrassment—wash over him as he sensed everyone's eyes on him.

Slowly, he stood up from his crouched position on the dusty floor, his knees cracking in protest. He examined the jukebox, its lights aglow with a soft, white hue. However, the interior glass was so filthy that the song list was barely readable. His gaze fell on a doorbell wired to the coin slot. Joel pressed it once, his eyes scanning the various lettered and numbered buttons.

"S2," he mumbled to himself, thinking of Sarah as he hovered over the letter. With all eyes in the room on the back of his head, he slowly pressed the buttons into the old metal board of the machine, each button emitting a satisfying 'click.'

Silence enveloped the room, followed by a whirring sound.

Please don't make me look like a fool in front of the whole town, Joel silently pleaded, not caring to whom he addressed his thoughts—God, Satan, or Buddha.

Another click, more whirring, and then the old jukebox started singing like a canary.

"I'm in a hurry to get things done 

Oh, I rush and rush until life's no fun 

All I really gotta do is live and die 

Even I'm in a hurry and don't know why…"

The room erupted into cheers and hollers as the song "I'm in a Hurry" by Alabama filled the space. Joel released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. A hand clapped his shoulder, followed by another pat on his bicep, as various townsfolk expressed their gratitude. He grunted in response, uncomfortable with the attention. He couldn't help but think he preferred it when the town treated him like some cryptid.

"Joel... drinks are on the house tonight. I think this'll be the busiest night since we found that Bud Light truck," Seth said, crossing his arms and standing next to Joel to admire his work. Joel shifted uncomfortably but nodded his thanks to the man.

"So, uh, how does it work with no coins, I mean?" Seth asked, looking at the old doorbell attached to the wiring coming from the coin slot.

Joel let out a soft huff. "That there is the 'coin,' per se. Push it however many times for however many songs, but… I'd maybe limit people to three," he quipped, attempting dry humor.

Seth smiled crookedly. "Yeah, I'd hate to hear the same shit twenty times in one day."

Joel sighed. "Yeah, let me see what I can do about the glass, and it'll be nearly new."

With that, Joel carefully worked the glass out of the jukebox, his eyes widening slightly as he pulled back the grimy cover. He didn't know what he had expected, but this jukebox seemed like a unicorn. As he pulled back the filthy glass, a list of songs greeted him—mostly country music, some '80s hits, and a few oldies like Frank Sinatra. Seth whistled softly behind Joel's right shoulder as the music filled the cozy bar.

"Can't be late, I leave in plenty of time 

Shakin' hands with the clock 

I can't stop 

I'm on a roll, and I'm ready to rock…"

———

The snow crunches beneath your boots as you speed walk through the snow towards your tiny cottage on the outskirts of Jackson. It was a modest two-bedroom, one-bathroom house, but it had a porch with a breathtaking view of the mountains. The unusual emptiness of the streets at this hour suggested that most of the town's residents were either at the Community Kitchen or the Tipsy Bison.

Almost slipping on your porch steps, you chuckled to yourself, attributing it to the icy snow. Unlocking your front door, you immediately shed layers of clothing in a trail leading to the bathroom. Excitement pulsed through you as you started the shower, envisioning the possibilities that the jukebox might hold. Maybe it would play Johnny Cash or some new Alan Jackson track you hadn't heard before. Alan Jackson held a special place in your heart.

Thoughts raced as you hurried through your shower, eager to join the buzz of the town. Drying your hair hastily, you searched for your special occasion jeans. They were a pair of dark-washed Levi's, the kind you'd nearly sold your soul for at one of the general stores. They hugged you perfectly in all the right places and, most importantly, were clean—devoid of stains or blood.

Pulling them up over your hips and buttoning them up, you checked yourself out in the mirror. A dark red sweater with a v-neck and your patrol boots completed the look. You adjusted the silver cross necklace around your neck, a memento from your grandmother, and heard her voice echo in your mind.

"Just keep your eyes on Jesus, baby… we're almost to the ranch."

Breaking your reverie, you felt ready to head out for drinks and music. Slipping into your coat, you ventured out into the sunset-lit, snow-covered streets of Jackson. The Tipsy Bison came into view after a short walk, and your excitement threatened to burst from you. The line outside the bar, however, crushed your spirits.

"No way..." you muttered, coming to a halt. The entire town seemed to be here. You watched from a distance, scanning the crowd until your eyes landed on a blonde-haired woman nearing the front of the line. She turned and made eye contact, flashing a wild smile as she waved you over.

There was a hint of apologetic awkwardness as you joined your friend. Some people in line shot you dirty looks for cutting, but it’s not like the bar’s gonna grow legs and walk away. 

"About TIME!" Caroline exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you met her outside the bar. "Ginger's already inside; she got us a spot at the bar!" Her excitement was contagious.

"Sorry! I had to go home and change. I didn't wanna come out smellin’ like a horse," you apologized, returning the hug.

"Oh honey, a shower doesn’t change that," she teased, playfully elbowing you.

"Caroline!" You gasped, feigning offense, and lightly elbowed her in return.

Curious, you peered into the bar, attempting to glimpse over the tall men in front of you. Music wafted out, and you heard the buzz of chatter as people walked in and out.

“It’s a shit ton of Country music," you overheard someone say as they walked away, "Well, what’d you expect from a ski lodge in Wyoming in 2003?” came the retort. Caroline shot you a knowing look, and you suppressed a smile.

The line gradually moved forward, and you stepped into the warm atmosphere. Caroline hung up her coat, and you couldn't help but shoot her an envious glance at her overly dressy top – a pink silk halter tied tank top that accentuated her figure beautifully.

“The hell’d you find that?!” You asked, a mix of curiosity and a hint of jealousy in your voice. It made her cleavage stand out, and it seemed perfectly timed as an unfamiliar song started playing from the jukebox, capturing everyone's attention.

“Her hair was Harlow gold 

Her lips a sweet surprise 

Her hands were never cold 

She had Bette Davis eyes…”

Being on your own for so long after your grandparents had passed had made you lose a sense of pride in your appearance. But being in Jackson, surrounded by other women again, ignited that desire to care once more. Caroline had been instrumental in helping you rediscover your femininity, teaching you how to braid your hair and transform dull button-ups into something more womanly. Caroline had been a high school senior when the outbreak happened, with a life and dreams you couldn't relate to. She aimed for Harvard, wanting to be like Elle Woods from a movie called "Legally Blonde." Those aspirations had seemed foreign, considering your upbringing on the Ranch, where your grandfather taught you to care for animals, garden, hunt, fish, and, of course, how to shoot – and shoot well. 

Caroline was the first person to make you question your beauty, to make something seemingly frivolous in the apocalypse feel essential.

"I believe that caring for myself isn’t self-indulgent, but rather an act of survival," Caroline had told you when you questioned the worth of bartering for old Avon makeup from the general store.

Caroline took your hand, pulling you toward where Ginger had miraculously saved some standing room at the bar. You hardly noticed as your gaze fixated on the Jukebox, where a line of people awaited their turn to pick a song. Your heart sank a little; you didn't think Caroline or Ginger had the patience to wait for you to choose a song.

Stepping up to the worn wooden bar, you were greeted by Seth's crooked smile. "Be back with ya in a minute, ladies," he said, his old hands moving as fast as they could to serve the bustling crowd.

"Bout time!" Ginger exclaimed as you turned to her. "I didn't think Seth'd let me save space any longer," she added with a laugh, her eyes scanning your and Caroline's outfits with admiration. "Damn girl! What'd you have to sell for those?!" She playfully ran her hand over the material of your jeans.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Oh, you have NO idea!" you began, but before you could continue, Seth returned.

"Two whiskeys, please," Caroline ordered for both of you, prompting you to resume your story. "You wouldn't believe it, okay..."

"Here we go..." Caroline rolled her eyes, and you playfully nudged her. Ginger hadn't heard this story before, and you were eager to share.

"I was rummaging through a house right after I'd left the ranch, and I found a Walkman! Battery-operated and a whole box of cassettes," you explained as Seth brought the whiskey back. Ginger listened intently as you continued. "I picked up some of the names I recognized from the pile. I ended up with like 10 tapes and a whole pile of batteries!" You took a swig and leaned on the bar top, facing Ginger, while Caroline leaned on your shoulder, clearly having heard this story many times before.

"Who were the tapes of?" Ginger asked, taking a swig of her dwindling beer.

"So I had an Alan Jackson cassette, I had a Shania Twain cassette, hmm oh! Johnny Cash's greatest hits, which were technically four tapes, one Journey cassette, George Strait, and then I even found a Marty Robbins tape!" You listed the tapes off, trying to recall them all.

"Sooo? What's this got to do with those Levi's?!" Ginger asked, laughing.

"Well, damn, hold on, sister, I'm tryna set the story up!" you retorted with a laugh.

"Anyways," you continued, "one day I'm navigating some thick woods. My headphones are around my neck, and I still have the music goin'. Well, I clipped the Walkman to the hip of my pants, and this fuckin' infected came outta nowhere!" You gestured dramatically with your hands. "This thing fuckin' leaps on me and pushes me up against a tree—"

"—crushes the Walkman!" You and Caroline said in unison, and all three of you burst into laughter, drawing the attention of others in the bar.

Tears welled in your eyes from laughing as you recounted the memory. "I'd never been so fucking mad in my life!" you recalled, trying to catch your breath. "I also haven't cried as hard since the day I lost that thing," you said dramatically as you took a drink. "Almost wish it'd bitten me instead of killin' my fuckin' Walkman," you added bitterly.

"Well, what did you do to it?" Ginger asked curiously.

"The infected? Oh. I fuckin' stomped that thing's head in," you deadpanned, throwing Ginger and Caroline into another fit of laughter. "Like... a lot," you repeated, deadpan again as you took another drink. "Fuckin' thing destroyed my Alan Jackson tape...anyways, I held onto the tapes, maybe out of bitterness. But once I got to Jackson, I traded the tapes for the jeans." Ginger made an "Oooh" sound, nodding as if she now completely understood.

Caroline tapped you on the shoulder, about to say something, when the sound of a very familiar song filled your ears, and you had to bite back the squeal that threatened to escape.

"It's Alan Jackson," you said, your eyes gleaming with a serious excitement that caught Ginger's attention.

"Come on," you said, pulling Caroline with you onto an opening in the bar floor as the chorus hit. You pulled her into a two-step, a dance you had seen your grandparents do every year on their anniversary.

"I should've been a cowboy 

I should've learned to rope and ride 

Wearin' my six-shooter, 

ridin' my pony on a cattle drive 

Stealin' the young girls' hearts 

Just like Gene and Roy 

Singin' those campfire songs

 Woah, I should've been a cowboy…"

You sang unabashedly, as if you, Caroline, and Alan Jackson were the only ones in the bar. Your head threw back in laughter after Caroline begrudgingly tried to match your steps. After a moment, you were so engrossed in your dance that you didn't even realize other people had joined in, dancing to the music. Ginger laughed from her spot at the bar as she watched your and Caroline's forgotten whiskeys.

———

Seth had been right. This was the busiest Joel had ever seen the Tipsy Bison. Brooding in the corner of the bar, tucked into a dimly lit table, Joel sat, nursing his fourth glass of free whiskey.

Shit. If Seth was offering, he wasn't gonna say no to free drinks.

Joel's tired eyes scanned the room as he tried to determine who he recognized and who he didn't. His gaze landed on a particularly familiar set of eyes. Tommy.

He watched as Tommy approached the secluded table, offering a crooked smile to the man.

"Big bad Joel fixed the jukebox?" Tommy teased as he sat down across from Joel.

"Did it for the free drinks," Joel retorted, attempting to deflect the sudden unwanted attention, his face flushing as he averted his brother's gaze.

"Well… you may have just earned some points with Maria," Tommy said with a genuine smile.

Joel smirked back. "Guess something good did come from this after all." He could feel the whiskey settling deep in his chest as he spoke to his brother.

Tommy glanced around at the crowd, but a roar of laughter snapped both of their heads toward the bar. Three women stood a few feet away, listening to one woman tell a story.

Joel narrowed his tired eyes. He didn't recognize the woman engrossed in her story. However, he did recognize the blonde with the revealing pink blouse. She scanned the patrons of the bar like a hawk, looking for her next prey and obviously uninterested in her friend's story.

The woman had approached Joel two days after he arrived with Ellie, asking to bum a cigarette and then bombarding him with a thousand questions as she batted her eyelashes at him. Her name was something like Karen, he couldn't quite recall. But when another bout of laughter reached his ears, his gaze locked onto your form, now less hidden behind the woman with her back to him.

He watched almost mesmerized as you laughed and smiled. Pretty, was the only thing his brain could manage. Suddenly, your face became very serious as you said something that made the two girls howl in laughter.

Tommy cleared his throat after an awkward silence, and Joel realized he had been completely caught staring at you. Their eyes met, and his little brother looked like he was about to say something smart, but Alan Jackson's music broke Tommy's focus.

"Holy shit! I forgot this song existed!" Tommy exclaimed with a nostalgic laugh.

Joel's attention was drawn back to the bar by another bout of laughter. Except, now, you had migrated to the middle of the room. Your arms were placed perfectly on the blonde chick as you began dancing. The blonde appeared obviously embarrassed by the sudden change, making a face of disdain. You laughed, the sound caressing Joel's ears, and he felt something stirring in him. Maybe it was the whiskey, but deep down, he knew it wasn't.

He and Tommy watched carefully as more patrons began to crowd the space, joining in the dance. Tommy let out a huff of laughter, his eyes now focused on the scene. As the song ended, everyone clapped, and Seth, the bartender, felt it appropriate to make an announcement.

"Everyone, thank Joel on your way out! He fixed up the jukebox," Seth declared, and a wave of applause and stares washed over Joel.

Joel could feel a flush creeping into his face at the attention. He cringed inwardly as all he could manage was a stupid smirk while looking down at his whiskey glass.

"Jukebox Joel!" someone in the crowd cheered, and Tommy choked on the beer he was drinking. Joel delivered a swift kick to Tommy's shin.

"Haha! What? Come on… it's better than Jackass Joel," Tommy laughed with a smirk as he teased Joel.

Joel actually let out a soft chuckle at that and shook his head as he looked back down at his empty glass. "Prick," Joel muttered softly as he glanced up at his little brother. "I'm gonna go get another." With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the table and made his way toward the bar to get another drink.

———

"I'm gonna go have a cigarette. Save me a spot!" Caroline swiftly moved to grab her coat, leaving you and Ginger at the bar.

Ginger looked at you. "So how's the stables?"

"Mmm, they're fine. I've recently gotten some help from this teenager, Ellie," you replied as you finished off your whiskey, paying no mind to the man who muscled in on Caroline's vacant space behind you.

"Is she a good help?" Ginger asked as she also finished off her beer.

"Depends on the day," you said with a soft laugh. "She's a great listener, just a little poor on the completion side of things. Like today, I asked her to oil this saddle Mike brought in from a patrol. Olivia stopped by to see me, and sure enough, Ellie just ended up talking with her for the last hour of the day. It's like she won't shut up. I swear, these outbreak babies are somethin' else," you added with an exasperated sigh. "She's a good kid, though. Smart as hell. I'm just mad I'll have to get up early to finish oiling the saddle before patrol." You finished with a final smile as you looked up to make eye contact with Ginger, who appeared as if she'd seen a ghost. She wasn't even looking at you but over your shoulder.

"Ginge?" you asked worriedly, placing a hand on her shoulder to shake her a bit.

"I'm gonna go grab a cigarette," she said hurriedly, shaking your hand off her as she all but ran out of the bar, leaving you standing there stunned.

In an instant, your senses tingled with the presence of an imposing, commanding figure emanating a cocoon of warmth from the shadows behind you. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, and a cascade of goosebumps rippled across your skin as you executed a deliberate, almost theatrical pivot to meet the piercing gaze of none other than Joel Fucking Miller.

———

If Joel had a dollar for every face he'd seen turn away from him in fear, he would've been a millionaire twelve years ago. But nothing felt as satisfying to him as watching your little friend scamper off to leave you with him.

He waited patiently for you to turn around before he spoke. His eyes drifted from the back of your head, tracing the contours of your figure, to rest on the soft curve of your ass. The sight made his breath hitch, and his gaze locked onto a familiar little red tag that stared back at him—Levi's.

Fuck  he thought to himself. Those must've cost a pretty thing like you a whole lot.

After what felt like ages, you finally turned to meet his gaze. Your soft, youthful face surprised him. You were young, younger than him, maybe even younger than Sarah would've been.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at him with your fucking doe eyes. His eyes traveled south from your lips to the silver cross around your neck. He cringed internally, his gaze shifting away from your neck as he signaled to Seth at the bar.

"Mr. Miller..." Your voice fell warily from your lips, carrying a soft southern accent that caught his ear.

Joel grunted softly. "Mhmm," he replied, waiting for Seth to bring his last whiskey of the night. He had to force himself to look away from you.

"You're… Ellie's dad?" Your voice sounded sheepish, not in the usual "I'm scared of you" kind of way he was accustomed to in this town, but in a "I messed up" kind of way. He spared a glance at you, noticing how you fidgeted with your hands and struggled to make eye contact, trying to look up at him apologetically.

"Mhmm," was all Joel settled for after a long pause. Your face paled, and he had to look away to keep from laughing.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Miller!! Ellie has been a great help, and I'd love for her to st—" You sounded panicked, and he didn't like it.

"Kid's got ADHD or somethin'. Can't finish anything she starts…unless it's food or a sentence," the words flew from Joel's mouth before he could process what he had just said. Seth rounded the bar at that moment and handed Joel his whiskey.

Joel took the glass and was about to take a sip when your giggle froze him in his tracks. It wasn't a laugh or a chuckle, but a full-blown giggle.

"Haha! She is very food motivated! Sometimes I catch her going for the sugar cubes that are meant for the horses," you laughed as you spoke to him. Joel looked down at you with a crooked smirk, sipping his whiskey as he turned his attention back to his glass.

"Well… uhm, I should probably..." Your voice trailed off with a hint of uncertainty, and from his peripheral vision, Joel could make out a flush on your cheeks as you tried to awkwardly excuse yourself from his presence.

"You let me know if she gives you more trouble..." What the hell was he doing? Was he actually talking right now or was it the whiskey? Slowly, he turned to look at you, his left arm resting on the bar as he slowly set his glass down, shoving his right hand in his belt loop. You were flushed, perhaps you'd had too much to drink? Or maybe it was... nah. He looked into your eyes, his gaze searching yours for a moment before dropping to that stupid silver cross on your neck. He wanted to rip it off your neck while burying himself deep inside you. Your voice brought his attention from your neck and his thoughts to the present, where he stared into your eyes.

"Yeah… I, uh... I will." You almost sounded confused and curious. You were biting your lip, your face still flushed, your hair framing your face perfectly. He had to stop himself from grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing himself on you. "Thanks for fixin’ up the jukebox..." Long gone was the shy demeanor as your words came out like sultry silk. You stared back at him seriously, and he could tell you were being genuine. He tried to swallow the sudden dryness the whiskey had left in his mouth. His aching back and throbbing knees from fixin’ the damn thing long forgotten as he rolled your thanks around in his head.

Damn.

He grunted in response and, with a white-knuckle grip on his whiskey glass, he forced himself to walk away. He passed by you, his form squeezing around yours in the crowded bar as people danced. He forced himself to look straight ahead when your left shoulder grazed his chest as he nudged past you gently. He slinked his way back to his table in the corner, where Tommy and Maria now occupied two of the four chairs.

As soon as he approached, they eyed him and stopped talking almost immediately. Tommy spoke up first with a smirk. "So uh..."

"Shut it," Joel snapped, his words coming out harsher than he had intended, and Maria huffed.

"Be nice. You're on my good side for the night. Don't make that change before I've even had a chance to enjoy it," she glared at him. Leave it to Tommy to pick a hardass for his wife.

"She's nice, Joel, but... she's young," Maria said with a sigh.

He felt angry heat flicker in his belly, replacing the momentary desire. He glared at Maria, who stared right back at him, and he felt his jaw tighten, his teeth grinding.

"Hon, why don't we go dance... enjoy it while we can?" Tommy's voice rang out, and for once, Joel was thankful for his baby brother.

He watched carefully as Maria reluctantly agreed and let Tommy lead her away. Tommy shot Joel a knowing look as he disappeared into a sea of people. Joel settled back into his seat from before, his eyes scanning the now dancing and raucous crowd.

Unconsciously, he found himself searching for you, scanning the spot where you'd stood with your friends, but it was now occupied by some other men.

———

"What the fuck, Ginger?!" You spat harshly as you confronted the two girls who were practically shivering outside, puffing on a shared cigarette.

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'? You were runnin' your mouth about the scariest man in town's daughter!" Ginger retorted, a mischievous laugh escaping her lips. "I wasn't about to stand witness to you getting your teeth kicked in!" she added, taking another drag.

"Wait, you saw Joel Miller?!" Caroline chimed in as she put out the cigarette.

"Saw him?! She damn near insulted his daughter in front of him!" Ginger laughed, and you could feel your cheeks redden.

"I didn't know he was behind me! You could've said something! I had to apologize, standin' there like an abandoned idiot!" You playfully frogged Ginger on the arm, your accent growing thicker with anger.

"Ow!" Ginger winced as she rubbed her skinny arm through her leather coat.

"Wait, you actually talked to him?!" Caroline asked as if it were an impossible feat.

"Well, yeah. I felt kind of bad… Ellie is a good kid, she's just very talkative," you explained, crossing your arms to ward off the cold.

"And he talked back?" Caroline continued her interrogation.

"I mean if you can call a couple of pig-like grunts talking, then yeah, I guess," you replied with a shrug.

"Hmm…" Caroline offered as she gave you a once-over. "Come on, let's get back inside." She headed into the bar, with you and Ginger following behind.

The night passed fairly uneventfully, save for a few men asking for a dance. Caroline, as usual, was the star of the night, charming most of the men into buying her drinks and joining her on the dance floor. Ginger cozied up to a man you recognized from the kitchen, someone she had been with before. You were starting to feel the fatigue kick in when you realized the line for the jukebox had drastically shortened. Excitedly, you made your way to the magical machine, your eyes scanning the list of songs. You were in awe of the extensive selection: Journey, Patsy Cline – one of your grandmother's favorites, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and some you didn't recognize at all, like Linda Ronstadt, ABBA, Earth, Wind & Fire…

You didn't even notice a presence near the bar, watching as you scanned the list in awe. Your fingers guided you, pressing the doorbell button connected to the coin slot, as you had watched so many people do all night. 

Your fingers grazed over the letter "J" for Joe—Jesus. "J" for Jesus, you mentally reprimanded yourself. Then you moved to a number, "5," your age on outbreak day. You listened to the machine click and whir in amazement. Unsure of the song title or the artist, you waited to hear the first chords.

"Came in from a rainy 

Thursday on the avenue 

Thought I heard you talking softly 

I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio 

Still, I can't escape the ghost of you..."

Leaning on the jukebox, you listened to the foreign song by a band called Duran Duran. The lyrics suddenly made you feel melancholic as you absorbed each word.

"What has happened to it all?

 Crazy, some'd say 

Where is the life that I recognize? (Gone away)"

———

Joel couldn't help himself. He wanted to blame the whiskey, but deep down, he knew he wasn't even close to drunk. From his spot at the far end of the bar, he watched as you walked up to the damn jukebox. You looked like a kid on Christmas, that twinkle in your eye, just like Sarah when he threw her a surprise birthday party with all her friends, or like Ellie at the Museum…

He watched you hesitate when it was your turn to pick a song. His eyes drifted to those Levi's, like they had been poured onto you. The way they clung to your curves made his mind wander. He imagined himself coming up behind you in his kitchen while you prepared to cook something that he had hunted. His chest tucking into the curve of your back while he pressed his hips into the curve of your ass. The thought shot an arrow of fire straight to his groin. Fortunately for him, Maria's voice echoed in his head. "She's nice, Joel... but she's young." He knew Maria wasn't bullshitting him about that. You hardly looked the same age as the women you hung around with.

His gaze shifted from the curve of your hip to the profile of your face. From this angle, he could watch your eyes scanning the song choices. He wondered what you would choose and, for a fleeting moment, told himself that if you picked a slow song, he'd have to ask you to dance. He watched your face crinkle slightly as you read through the songs, likely because you didn't recognize most of them. Sipping his whiskey, he waited to see the outcome.

He observed as your fingers grazed the buttons until making their final destination. He couldn't help but imagine what those fingertips would feel like grazing his body in the same tender way. Your smile lit up when the jukebox whirred to life, and he released a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding when the song "Ordinary World" by Duran Duran began playing. It was an odd choice, he thought to himself.

The semi-familiar song filled the now-dwindling bar. Couples still danced, others nursed their beers, and some chatted. His eyes remained locked on your face as you listened intently. He could tell you had chosen the song on a whim, not knowing it. He sat and watched as the once-childlike wonder on your face slowly dissolved into a heartbreaking frown, one that he had seen a hundred times before on different women's faces.

Heat rose on his cheeks as he watched the blonde from earlier drunkenly sling her arm over your shoulder. Suddenly, he felt like a creep for watching you for so long. He turned his gaze back to his now-empty glass as Seth came over to offer him another. Politely declining, Joel stood up slowly, adjusted his coat, and, feeling a pang of regret, he slipped out the side door of the bar.

"But I won't cry for yesterday

There's an ordinary world

Somehow I have to find

And as I try to make my way

To the ordinary world

I will learn to survive"

———

"Come on, kiddo… time for you to walk me home," Caroline hummed in your ear, her arm slung around you. Her alcohol-laden breath pulled you out of your self-wallowing music session. You slid your left arm around her waist, providing some balance as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

"My dad loved Duran Duran…" Caroline slurred into your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. She had only mentioned her father once before, and it had been followed by a request never to bring it up again. Hastily, you changed the subject and led her to the entrance of the bar to retrieve her coat.

You grabbed her dark purple barn coat and draped it around her shoulders, making sure she was bundled up, then zipped up your own coat tightly. Caroline took your hand as you began to walk, leaning heavily on you. It had to be late because as soon as you stepped outside the Tipsy Bison, you felt your hair freeze. Both your and Caroline's breath fogged up the space in front of you as you surveyed the mostly empty streets of Jackson. Caroline's house was on the other side of town, and you mentally prepared yourself for the chilly walk ahead when Caroline made a mumbled noise into the crook of your neck.

“‘S lookin at you all night..” she murmured as you helped her navigate the snow-covered streets.

"Hmm, darlin'?" you asked, guiding her carefully.

"He was lookin' at you!" she repeated, a bit louder this time.

Confused, you adjusted your hold on her to prevent any accidental slips that could bring both of you down in the snow. "Who was lookin'?" you inquired, but she didn't reply. Suddenly, she went limp in your arms, and you let out a soft yelp at the abrupt change in weight.

"Carol?!" you called, trying to stifle a laugh as she put her full weight on you. "Shit. How much did you drink, darlin'?" you groaned, realizing that you were going to have to carry her home.

The walk across town to Caroline's house had left you wide awake. After taking her shoes off and tucking her into bed alongside a peacefully sleeping Olivia, you left the house quietly, ensuring the door was locked behind you. Stepping back out into the night, you were greeted by the sight of the quiet town, blanketed in snow with darkness settling in. A shiver ran down your spine as you took in the serene atmosphere.

You began your journey toward your own home, which lay on the opposite end of town. However, as you walked, your thoughts wandered back to the saddle that Ellie hadn't finished oiling. Despite your tiredness, you knew that if you went home now, you'd simply lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep. With a sigh, you turned on your heel and headed back towards the stables, your hands shoved deep into your pockets to ward off the cold.

As the stables came into view, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. The door was ajar, and a soft light spilled out from within. You knew you had closed up for the night, and the thought of leaving a kerosene lamp burning in a barn full of hay and the town's most prized mode of transportation was, unthinkable.

An uneasy thought crossed your mind; maybe it was Maria or Tommy, someone needing to head out for a late-night patrol. However, such occurrences were rare unless there was an emergency. With cautious steps, you entered the stables as quietly as you could, your senses on high alert.

To your chagrin, you found the horses calmly chewing on the hay you had left for them hours ago. The pit in your stomach deepened as you scanned the area, trying to discern any signs of an intruder.

"H...Hello?" you called out, your voice sounding uncharacteristically shaky even to your own ears. You couldn't help but think sarcastically, Oooh, very threatening. In that moment a thought crossed your mind that maybe Jackson was making you soft. You stood there, waiting for a reply, but there was none.

Confused and still on edge, you carefully followed the source of the soft lantern light. It led you to the back of the stables and into the tack room, your footsteps echoing softly in the enclosed space.

There, almost right where Ellie had left it, you saw the saddle that Mike had found on his patrol. However, what caught your attention in the dimly lit room was the unmistakable sheen across the leather. It gleamed in the lantern light, catching your eye immediately. It had been fully oiled, a stark contrast to the untouched condition it had been in earlier when Ellie had been working on it.

Confusion wracked your body; did Joel make Ellie come back to oil the saddle? Your fingers gingerly rubbed the leather between your fingers. No, this wasn’t Ellie’s work; this was oiled to perfection. Ellie was a good kid, hell, a great kid considering all the other children who’d grown up in this hellscape, but she oiled saddles like she was pouring syrup on pancakes. No, this had been done by someone with skill and experience.

A soft smile crossed your face as you reached for the lantern. Maybe Joel Miller wasn't the monster your friends had told you about after all. You'd have to ask Ellie in the morning. 

As you stepped out of the barn, relocking everything up for the night, you couldn’t shake the warm feeling in your gut. A feeling you hadn’t felt since you’d eaten your last meal with your grandparents... a feeling that scared you.

Unbeknownst to you, a dark figure across the street watched from the shadows, illuminated only by the orange glow of his lit cigarette as he leaned against a column under the roof of the general store. Joel took a drag from his cigarette as he watched you relock the barn for the night. He tried to tell himself the warm feeling in his chest was from the cigarette he'd been puffing on, but he knew better.

Joel took one last drag from his cigarette, flicked it to the ground, and crushed it beneath his boot before heading home, maybe something good came from that damn jukebox after all… he thought to himself as his eyes followed your form walking off into the snowy darkness of Jackson.

[veradragonjedi]

Gooooooood morning folks!

BBB CH 26 IS OUT!

^ there's the link :)

Hello readers! I have returned. I apologise for my absence, but moreso for the lack of an interesting tale! See, there was no writer's curse; I am not plagued, nor am I dying! But exams came before mental health, and mental health was already coming before BBB.

That being said, the next FIVE CHAPTERS are already written, meaning that they should be (fingers crossed 🤞) coming out in a more regular schedule!

And, that's not even to mention that — after these chapters — aaaaall our waiting will pay off. That's right, readers! An end is in sight (or, at least, an end to the denial.)

That's not to say that it will be smooth sailing from here, but it is to say THANK YOU for being so patient

@airlocksandaviaries @positivityjediprince @surfing-on-a-soundwave @materassassino @vanishedangels @idkbishsss @jspookywolf @pebblish @thechaoticfanartist @doublechocolate @insertmeaningfulusername @funkyphonophorae @proftree @bison-appreciation-club @justanothercatastrophe @purple-goo-writes @iamscoby (tagging you just cos it's been a huuge while omg)

(tell me if you'd like to be added or removed!)

Tags and other shizz under the cut!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: The Mandalorian (TV)

Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin & Cara Dune & Boba Fett & Fennec Shand, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo

Characters:

Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin, Grogu, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Cobb Vanth, Cara Dune, R2-D2, Ahsoka Tano, Ben Solo

Additional Tags:

Human/Vampire Relationship, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Good Parent Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Alternate Ending, Grogu | Baby Yoda Ships Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Luke trains Din with the Darksaber, Vampire Luke, Post-The Mandalorian (TV) Season/Series 02, R2-D2 hates Din Djarin, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Whump, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Squick, Canon-Typical Violence, violence in general, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt, Friends To Lovers, Hurt No Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, BAMF Luke Skywalker, Only like half the time though, The other half is, Sad Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker has PTSD, Luke Skywalker Has ADHD, Autistic Din Djarin, Asexual Din Djarin, Asexual Luke Skywalker, Well theyre both aspec- itll be clearer in the future i swear (Din is demi Luke is grey), Touch-Starved Luke Skywalker, WHOOOOOO, Co-parents To Lovers

Language: English

Words: 138,419 Chapters:26/?

[mlgmi316]

It's time for part 2 of America's Favorite Game Show:

Which of These Moments From Fighting Game Manhua Did I Make Up? Part 2!

The Moments are from the SVC Chaos, Alpha 3, SF3 New Generation, and SF3 Third Strike Manhua, and one of them I made up/didn't actually happen. The answers and results will be revealed in a week:

[thehoneybeet]

I’m SO here for the cow reclist please do it! 🤍🖤

Okay so it turns out niche reclists are really hard. I have no idea how you and @sitp-recs do it. A million kudos to everyone who does these. Anyway, thanks @mxlfoydraco for the nudge I needed to get this going! This one was inspired by a post I reblogged from @corvuscrowned about the universal truth that love is stored in cows. Without further ado,

DRARRY + COWS

fics with the presence of at least one cow:

🍃 the treehouse near primrose downs (2022, M, 14k) by @softlystarstruck

Draco is sure his giddy joy is written all over his face, but he doesn’t care. He’s going to have a cozy magical house with his best friend, and he’s going to get cows.

🐮 Featured cows: Flora, baby Freya, and Felicity

I can't say enough good things about this fic. Not only does the word "cow" appear 41 times, but it is a central point in the story of Draco and Harry's gentle love for each other. When everyone else gets tired of Draco talking constantly about his cows, Harry listens. I am also in love with Mexican Harry exploring his heritage and also learning the harp (!!). A beautiful meditation of the kind of love that makes a friendship and a home.

⚡️ The Bolthole (2020, E, 54k) by @tepre, aideomai, and GallaPlacidia

"Harry, are you scared of cows?"

"No!"

“Because it seems as if you may be scared of cows,” said Draco, looking more and more amused.

“I’m not!”

“Is this your one weakness? Saving people, and… cows?”

“Fuck off!”

🐮 Featured cows: none by name, but several picturesque descriptions

This fic speaks for itself, but what I love most about it is the way it deals with grief. Harry is a hoarder; Draco is grieving. A gorgeous classic.

🌼 The Genesis Theory by @stationintern (WIP ch 6/13, 2023, M):

"I am aware that you're messing with me, Potter. You're laying it on pretty thick." Malfoy folded his arms, his lean frame only a few inches taller than Harry's. "I will milk the cow and do it without fear. Just to spite you."

🐮 Featured cows: Rosita the Undead Therapy Cow, Harriet, Juniper, and others

I am reccing this fic even though it's still a WIP because 1) The last update was a few days ago, 2) it's SO GOOD, and 3) there are named cows and mysterious necromantic flowers. Harry has a farm and keeps his life secret from the magical world, but slowly he begins to let Draco in. Go give the author some e(bull)ient praise!

Honourable Mentions (below the cut)

There are a surprising number of fics featuring farms but with no mention of cows. Curiouser and curiouser! Where did they go? It's a moo-stery. Of course, the reasonable explanation is that the farms are simply not cow farms (we'll ignore this for the present, because after all, these fics still have the lovely spirit of cows, and that's really what matters). So:

Here are a few fics involving drarry and farms:

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor: While there are no cows, Luna and Ginny's beautiful farm has thestrals, white bison, an erumpent, and a thunderbird.

Third Quarter Moon by pourcesalad: A nearly complete wip (you've been warned) featuring werewolf!Draco who works on a muggle farm, and a fascinating take on the treatment of werewolves in magical society.

Fruit Stand by @drarrily-we-row-along: Draco grows peaches and keeps bees. Breathtaking, soft, and tender.

In conclusion, the world is unfortunately deficient in drarry + cows fics. My dear writers, it would be so wonderful if there were more cows on your farms and in your steamy cowboy fics and on your roadtrips and countryside vistas (and if they had names)! Happy reading and if you have more cow-related fic recs, don't hesitate to moove those to the cowments.

[thetruejerrycan]

I'm honestly kind of dreading SF6 season 3. Whatever major balance patch comes out will determine what Capcom wants the game to be. I love SF6, it's my third favorite fighter, but it has major problems that really hurt my enjoyment of the game, especially at a higher level. I don't think drive rush is a problem more than it is an unpopular design choice (there's nothing you can do about it as a whole now because it's baked in. If there's one thing I'd like to see changed, I would like them to fix the screen freeze eating inputs because it always felt like a bug rather than intended part of the mechanic because the way it works is inconsistent with other screen freezes in the game), but individual character balance and throw loops are easily the weak points of the game right now.

SF6 is designed in a very specific way. Most buttons are negative to where even jab pressure isn't guaranteed, thus putting a strong focus on decision-making. Almost every action you can take is a commitment that can be hard punished, hence punish counter as a mechanic. But there are a handful of characters in this game who either don't adhere to this design philosophy at all or have easily abusable ways of circumventing it. Ken is still the best character in the game because he has it all and more importantly doesn't have to make any meaningful decisions to get his win condition. All it takes is one jab and a run tatsu for him to get the corner and run his meterless throw loop with zero effort. In fact, Ken gets a lot without spending any resources unlike every other character in the game. It's not so bad to the point you never see Ken burn out but the disparity between how much drive he doesn't need to spend compared to the rest of the cast is obnoxiously apparent.

Speaking of obnoxious, M. fucking Bison. This character is honest to god the worst thing that ever happened to this game. If you don't like the way Street Fighter 6 plays, you'll love Bison because he's playing Street Fighter 5. I get the idea of what they're going for with this character, he's an oppressive rushdown character with good meterless pressure that is difficult to punish if you don't know what to look for. While I am a little annoyed that he's designed in a way that incentivizes you to counter hit him rather than punishing him (the central mechanic of the game), I don't have a problem with a character like him existing nor do I have a problem with him being good. The major issue is that it takes so little effort to actually play him well. His normals are mostly unpunishable with some of the better ones including his 5HP being plus. I play Ryu so I'm no stranger to having free plus frames but the difference is that Bison is a much stronger character in neutral so tripping up people trying to counter hit him is so easy, not to mention that Bison is notorious for having a combo that pretty much kills every character. It is the only combo you see Bison players do because it's easy and the damage is ludicrous. And I haven't even mentioned the mostly safe on block neutral skip that is his scissor kicks, or his safe on block OD psycho crusher that also blows through air attacks and projectiles. And people will say these moves aren't that bad because you can drive impact them on reaction, which is bullshit. Even if DI is the best thing you can do, you don't always have access to it because of the way the drive gauge constantly fluctuates throughout the match (not to mention the health cost), depending on the situation you might put yourself into burnout and not be able to deal enough damage to kill, and you should not just have to rely on hard callout system mechanics to beat extremely abusable moves that a character can use for free. That's just not fair. Between M. Bison's repertoire of attacks that are either impossible or proportionally too difficult to reliably punish on block and Akuma's insane plus frames out of demon flip, I genuinely think Capcom made these two DLC characters overtuned on purpose.

And finally, my main problem with this game that I absolutely will not defend, throw loops. Throw loops are without question the worst part of the entire game. I have yet to meet a single person who even likes throw loops. Everybody wants them out of the game whether they are in master rank or have never even touched ranked matchmaking. The corner is scary enough as it is not only on accounts of it being a fighting game, drive impact is an unblockable wall splat that leads to combos. Throws are also already very strong in this game because they're frame 3 (which makes them the fastest move in the game), knock down, and don't tend to create a lot of distance between both players in the corner. I get that Capcom didn't want the game to be devolved into fishing for perfect parries, hence why throwing people in a parry state take additional damage and suffer a hard knockdown, and why perfect parry punishes have 50% scaling. But throw loops are the worst possible solution to preventing this because it creates a different brainless problem. The game up until you're in the corner is rock-paper-scissors, and when you're in the corner, it feels like it's supposed to be another RPS but instead turns into a 50/50.

On offense, your main three options are to go for another throw, do a meaty strike, or shimmy. On defense, your main three options are to do an invincible reversal, block/parry, or do a fast low. But like I said, this isn't actually an RPS, it's effectively a 50/50 that favors the attacker. Shimmy is simply too safe against two of the better and more rewarding options. Walking backward makes you block the reversal and it also lets you walk back in and punish parry attempts. This and the fact that strikes beat throws on the same frame also makes trying to tech the throw incredibly risky. Frustratingly, if you go for a low and they're committed to a meaty, you lose straight up and you get blown up on counterhit for it. SFV had this exact same problem and from what I can tell, nobody liked it there either. Interestingly, neither of these have throw invuln on wakeup, which is just, why? Every other game has wakeup throw invuln and don't suffer from this problem whatsoever when when those games' grapplers are really good.

I've heard two main takes about solving the issue: one is the suggestion of increasing pushback from the corner with every successful throw which while it would be a solution to throw loops, landing multiple throws in succession in and of itself is not an issue that needs changing. The other take I've heard is that if they did end up removing throw loops, they would have to majorly restructure each character's moveset around this change, which first of all, no they wouldn't. Every character has some sort of baked in strike-throw and the frame data reflects this. A move being +3 is a deliberate design choice. There are 2 frames of throw invuln after being hit or blocking, which means that you can either input a throw that is 1 frame more difficult to react to or go for a 4 frame jab which will intercept the opponent if they attempt to counterattack. But an important distinction to make is this only works against grounded opponents. As soon one of you is knocked down, the relationship between all of these options is completely different and frankly irrelevant to the discussion of fixing throw loops. Secondly, even if Capcom is intentionally designing characters to abuse throw loops in the corner, that's a really fucking stupid way of making strong characters.

I've talked about it before and I'm not going to stop until I feel like Capcom starts listening to the community about this, but I genuinely think the solution is to just add wakeup throw invuln to the game. Every other Street Fighter game other than SFV has this. Even if it was just the 2 frames that you get after hit or block, it means you can't just meaty throw to invalidate two of the opponent's options in an RPS and your other two main options on offense don't have to change, and on defense you actually have a proper RPS that's still in the spirit of the game. Invincible reversals are still invincible so they beat both throws and strikes and lose to blocking, parrying still gets blown up by shimmy, and fast lows can reliably beat shimmy attempts. Universally, this would be a great change.

But does Capcom think so? Do they care that throw loops are just not fun to play with, against, or even watch? What about the aforementioned problem characters? That's my main fear with season 3 and onward. They've done so good with this game even in updating it but at the same time I feel like they just aren't responding to community feedback nearly enough to make the game feel healthy

[doamarierose-honoka]

The prospect of bringing Elena back was a scary one for players who spent a lot of time in Ultra Street Fighter 4, but that's a reality we'll all soon be living in — though the developers appear to be keenly aware of fan concerns.

Following the reveal of Season 2 DLC also including M. Bison Terry Bogard and Mai Shiranui, Street Fighter 6 Director Takayuki Nakayama and Producer Shuhei Matsumoto recently had an interview with Japanese publication Famitsu where they talk about the first Street Fighter 3 character coming back to the roster and her infamous healing powers.

Thanks to the talents of our own Nicholas 'MajinTenshinhan' Taylor, we now have a full translation of their discussion to provide more insights on the team's thought process for the upcoming DLC.

Famitsu: You're also adding Elena from the Street Fighter 3 series. Was there any particular reason for bringing her back?

Nakayama: First of all, we didn't have a capoeira user at the moment and we also wanted to have someone who was from Africa, which were two big reasons for including her.

We were thinking about making a brand new African character, but we felt like if we did that'd leave no room for Elena later so we chose to bring her back instead.

Famitsu: You're working hard to not have overlapping nationalities and fighting styles, then?

Nakayama: That's right. We're always trying to bring in nationalities or martial arts that aren't represented yet. In Street Fighter 6, we added Snake Kung-Fu on our poison user A.K.I. and Drunken Fist with Jamie when we made new characters.

Although the interviewer brings it up, the Director himself doesn't specifically mention her being a SF3 representative as part of the reasoning to bring her back.

This is quite interesting since SF6 is the first entry to fully take place after Third Strike, but it seems we won't be getting caught up with basically any of the New Generation era cast until almost two years after the game came out.

Famitsu: As usual, she'll be mostly fighting with her legs?

Nakayama: Yeah. We're right in the middle of developing her right now, but please look forward to further news down the line.

And then there's of course what all USF4 players were wondering about.

Famitsu: I'm quite curious about Healing... ?

Nakayama: During Ultra Street Fighter 4, I saw a tournament which had Rose, Yun and Elena and the matches became extremely long.

We're very aware of this in our development, so please don't worry about Healing.

Everyone: Hahaha.

Nakayama: For some inside info, the idea of "how about she heals her opponent instead?" was raised, but obviously this was rejected, haha.

This does certainly make it sound like Elena does have Healing again in SF6 though they don't plan on it being quite as strong.

Back when she was re-introduced in Ultra Street Fighter 4, Elena became something of a menace at most skill levels because of her Ultra 2.

She could easily and consistently knock the opponent down and send them flying basically full screen with moves like Spin Scythe and Scratch Wheel to give her an opening for Healing on their recovery.

Most characters didn't have a consistent punish to this tactic, so she'd often get it off for basically free and force the opponent to do enough damage to basically KO Elena 1.5 times to get a win — and then she could just do it again the next round (or sometimes twice in one round if she recovered enough).

It also certainly helped that it only took her Revenge Meter, so she was still free to use her EX moves and Super without a tradeoff.

As the Director mentioned, this could slow down and draw out matches longer than basically any time in SF4's history, which of course drew some ire from the playerbase.

If we had to take a guess, Healing will most likely be Elena's level 2 Super Art in SF6 judging by how the developers tend to set up the characters in this game. And maybe it'll refill her Drive Gauge instead or at least give her the option to.

On top of that being a fairly expensive cost, SF6's mechanics like Drive Rush and almost no hard knockdowns presumably would make healing much riskier than SF4.

Elena already had Healing in SF3 too and wasn't really good there, so it was largely how Ultra SF4 was set up that led to her being more of a menace.

Famitsu: In the trailer, she really gives off a kind of a big sister vibe, so are we to take that as her growing up from her previous appearance?

Nakayama: Of course, time has passed for her just like the rest of the characters, so she has grown. She pets a hippopotamus in one scene, and that's also going to be related to her story.

Previously, the Director talked about how players would probably be surprised and say things like "what are you doing?" in regards to SF6 Season 2, and he certainly seems to be right by bringing Elena back plus the series' first guest characters.

Players will likely be waiting many more months until we actually learn more about Elena in detail and see her in action considering she's the last character scheduled to release in Year 2 all the way in Spring 2025.

[themattress]

The Top 25 Greatest Video Game Villains, as selected by me.

In order: Ganondorf Dragmire / Ganon (The Legend of Zelda series), Majora (The Legend of Zelda series), Chaos (Final Fantasy series), Kefka Palazzo (Final Fantasy series), Sephiroth (Final Fantasy series), Bowser (Super Mario series), Dr. Ivo Robotnik / Dr. Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog series), Ridley (Metroid series), Andross (Star Fox series), Xemnas (Kingdom Hearts series), Gruntilda Winkybunion (Banjo-Kazooie series), Giovanni (Pokémon series), M. Bison (Street Fighter series), Hades (Kid Icarus series), Pokey Minch (Mother series), Liquid Snake (Metal Gear series), Handsome Jack (Borderlands series), Count Dracula (Castlevania series), GLADOS (Portal series), Monokuma (Danganronpa series), Dutch Van Der Linde (Red Dead series), Haytham Kenway (Assassin’s Creed series), Pyramid Head (Silent Hill series), Alduin (The Elder Scrolls series), and Lord Gwyn (Dark Souls series).

Honorable Mention: These wacky guys (Super Smash Bros. series).

If there’s anyone you feel deserves a spot in this category, let me know in reblogs.

....But you’re not allowed to bring up King Dedede. I refuse to accept this guy as a villain: