#seems fine and all and then once you actually get to his backstory youre just oh. oh. oh no. oh n

[laplacemail]

what have you given up for the sake of your dream?

by y83_oishi @ twitter!

[janaispunk]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[merakiui]

SCARA WITH A MILF DARLING.... AND SPECIFICALLY **HIS** MILF.... wow...

He's gonna be so shameless about it too.... is he way way too old to cuddle in bed with "mama" ? Yes, of course. But he will anyway and his head will be on your chest. and he will cling for dear life, nobody's getting up until he says so.

A spoiled brat too he will drink up all the affection and praise and do anything to get more.... A milf darling will save him but also make him worse in other aspects I think... I'm here for it 🙈

Even better if he gets to piss off Ei with his attitude 😭

YES OMG YOU SEE THE VISION!!!!!! A milf and a nursing handjob could fix him and make him worse all at once. He deserves a loving motherly figure in his life, especially if said figure is his stepmother who cherishes him far more than Ei ever did. >_< I still can't get over how he says "my mother" in his backstory cutscene........ THE ANGUISH. OHHHHH I AM ILL. T_T IT HURTS. Even more so when you realize Ei never viewed him as her child in the way he viewed her as a mother. She just saw a puppet she had created and then set free after she realized he was unfit for the Gnosis.

Ramblings aside, these mommy issues mean he is absolutely down bad for a milf. Not just any milf. His milf!!!!!! :D AAAAAAA OTL cuddling with you and clinging like a koala omg,,,, he's so spoiled and so hungry for your attention. Scara faking being in a bad mood just so you'll hug him and then he can bury his face in your tits.

Ei seeming so displeased with his attitude!!!!! But you tell her it's fine. You coddle him too much, but then of course you would because you've never had a child of your own. And your stepson is such an angel towards you (he's a scheming devil towards everyone else, but you don't need to know that hehe)... you don't need to know he steals your undergarments or looks through your personal things (that drawer of sex toys you think is a private thing between you and Ei? He knows about it and is determined to use all of them on you at one point). You only need to know that he loves you very much and is happy you're his stepmother. Although to Scara you're more of a mother than his biological mother, so don't think too deeply about it when he drops the "step" part and simply calls you Mother.

Also,,,,,, soft non-con somno............. waking up to him fucking into you and he just shushes you to sleep. Go back to your nice dream. Let him take care of you. <3 you have nothing to worry about. Waaaa he'd have such an obsession with your tits,,, everything about your body, actually. You're just so soft and warm,,, so sweet and pliable for him in bed!!!!

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo x Child of Hades

Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x Gn!Reader (platonic/familial)

It was difficult being a child of Hades

I mean everyone seemed to hate you and for whatever reason you were put into the lotus casino

You spent decades there and unbeknownst to you- your half siblings also stayed there during the same time

Well that was the past- you were currently in the underworld and because of your fathers liking towards your mortal parent you’ve been getting spoiled

Especially since you’re one of few children of his

So while walking around Hades palace you were called upon by your father

I mean sure, you hadn’t done anything bad in particular but the constant bickering from your step mom really got on your nerves

So maybe hades sensed that- who knows

Well what you do know is the reason you were called upon

That reason being your half sibling that you were currently made aware of

His name was Nico and now you were gonna be forced to hang out with each other on part of your father

It is a hassle, but Nico's chauffeur Jules Albert ended up driving you to wherever you were going in the end

You two were practically glued to the opposite sides of the car but once you got to your destination (a mall) you were left to “bond” or whatever

You half expected Nico to immediately leave your side but he surprisingly didn’t and actually walked around with you

You both went by stores (and he was weirdly obsessed with hot topic) but whatever

It wasn’t until you both sat at the food court that you guys finally started talking the same language

You learned of his background (when he was born and that he stayed at the lotus casino) which you ended up revealing was your backstory

You two bonded over it sorta but only really when you both ventured across the underworld

You don’t remember how it happened but you were suddenly attacked and even if you’d hate to admit it- you really didn’t think Nico’d have your back

So when he suddenly attacked and slayed the monster with zero hesitation it took you by surprise

I mean it’d be a lie to say you two haven’t been getting closer and closer but there was still a barrier and obvious distance Nico kept you at

This instance made a thick tension and while you two were setting camp while in the underworld he began to talk

He was pleased to know that you’re from around the same time period and the evening (if you can even call it that, the whole underworld is basically pure night) was spent with you two chatting away with the troubles of having to go back into modern day society

It was nice for Nico- I mean when he was first introduced to you he thought the worst

Which can you even blame him?

Well regardless, knowing he has another sibling is nice

I mean you’re obviously not all that close but lately he’s been relating to you and the two of you had made jokes about your dad and old lives

Which in a way is nice, especially since most people get uncomfortable when he just wants to talk about how he feels

Well eventually the conversation turns to the attack he had launched on that monster that was going at you

You took note of how panicked he seemed to protect you and you voiced that

He seemed stiff and when you reassured him you didn’t need to know more he said it was fine

And explained the whole ordeal with Bianca and the lotus casino and how in a way, you’re really his sibling now

I mean actually

You two have fun but argue and it’s never too much

Not to mention how you just get each other

He voices that and when he’s done he’s grateful you don’t take it as weird or awkward and just listen

After that you two are definitely more close and if you chose to vent too then he’d be there for you too

On a lighter note, you two end up realizing you have a lot of your powers in common

I mean you can raise the dead, shadow travel, etc so you two definitely compare and improve together

On a lesser good note, you’re introduced to camp

Everyone’s shocked to see you since they didn’t expect hades to have another secret child

You get pretty much the same treatment as Nico unless you’re more extroverted and approachable

Which makes things worse because you two start being compare

Which is absolute butt cheek

I’d imagine that if you meet when Nico’s younger then he’d be a bit hesitant to get close to you

Especially since it might feel like a betrayal to Bianca but he soon realized you were your own person and his love for you as his sibling wouldn’t be a crime

Anyway I’d imagine you’d be the first person he’d come out to

He’s definitely buzzing with nervous energy but if you reassure him and if you’re queer and tell him too, well he’s glad to know you trust him enough and that you basically gave him collateral in case you ever betrayed him

Either way he’s glad that you support him and becomes a bit more confident, even if by a little

Eventually Nico gets with Will and you’d probably you are the first person he told about it and introduced you two if he didn’t already

Either way there’s some ups and downs with Nico as a sibling but he’s overall pretty cool as a brother

Just a bit emo

[beskarandblasters]

Dancin’ With The Devil

Mothman!Joel x F!Reader x Jersey Devil!Tommy

Ways to help Palestine

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

A sequel to Mothman Fever

Author’s note: Here it is!! A few days early!! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading and helping me come up with Tommy’s backstory. ❤️🦋

Summary: A year after you met Joel at the Mothman Festival in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, he decides to introduce you to his mysterious brother, Tommy.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: no outbreak, oral sex (M and F receiving), semi public sex, sex pollen, drinking, dub con, MFM threesome (Joel and Tommy don’t touch during it), monsterfucking, pet names (Luna like the moth lmao), very light angst, mentions of food, made up Mothman/Jersey Devil lore, no use of y/n

It’s your favorite time of year, late September, which means only one thing; the Mothman Festival. Last year’s festival was one for the books. Meeting Joel was most definitely the highlight of the trip. You’ve kept in contact with him here and there since then. It blows your mind that you’re texting and calling the Mothman. And ever since you’ve met you’re left with more questions than ever. Who knew Mothman was a charming man with a Southern accent that could shapeshift? You’ve researched on your own, never telling your friends what you found that one fateful night in the woods. They would never believe you. But your research has come up empty-handed every time. You assumed that Joel being the sweet talker he is has done this to countless other women over the years, hoping that you’d find some Reddit threads of women discussing their encounters with the strange man in Point Pleasant, Virginia. But it seems you’re the only one. 

…Or they’ve all been too ashamed to tell their story, too scared of the flack they might catch. A man that shapeshifts into a giant human moth is definitely hard to believe. But if there’s one thing for certain, you’ll ask him all the burning questions you’ve been thinking about over the past year. 

-

You’re driving to Point Pleasant again, excited for what this year’s festival has in store. 

This time you’re alone. Janelle couldn’t get off from work and Tara has the flu. But this just means that you get more time with Joel.

You’ll be recreating last year’s festival down to a T. This afternoon you’re going to lunch with Joel at Village Pizza where you first met. The next night is set aside for the bar you and Joel went to for your first date. But the final night is the crown jewel– the Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area. 

You drive to the hotel, the same one you stayed at last year, and internally cry at the price. Last year you split the rate between the three of you but now you’re eating the cost yourself. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s worth it if you’ll have an experience like last year. 

Once you’re checked in and settled into your room you receive a text from Joel, right on time, as if he knew you were finally free. 

Hey, Luna. 🦋

Hey, Joel. 

You settled in your room yet?

Yeah!

Meet me at Village Pizza in 30?

Sounds good. See you soon :) 

You change before you leave, opting for another funny t-shirt. This one says Mothman is real and he’s my girlfriend, hoping Joel will get a kick out of it. 

You walk to Village Pizza and spot Joel sitting in a booth from the window outside. He smiles when he sees you but it melts into a frown when he sees your shirt. You head inside and slide inside the booth, beaming at him while his scowl never fades. 

“What’s with the shirt?” he asks. 

“What do you mean?”

“…Girlfriend?”

“What about it?”

“Shouldn’t it say boyfriend?”

“Are you using the B word, Joel?” you laugh. 

He laughs too, never actually answering your question. 

“Good to see you. You’re lookin’ good.”

“Likewise,” you smile. “Got any big plans tonight? Gonna bump into a bright light or something?”

“Funny,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But no. I thought we’d go out tonight.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“No friends with you this time? I thought one of them was coming.” 

“Tara was supposed to come but she came down with the flu.”

“That’s too bad… But at least I get you all to myself until…” he trails off, grabbing your hand on the table. 

“Until what?”

“Have I mentioned my brother Tommy at all?” 

“Yeah. You said he was in Jersey last year.” 

“He won’t be joining us tonight but he’ll be here tomorrow. That alright with you?”

“Fine with me. I’m excited to meet him.” 

“I figured you would be,” he says, squeezing your hand. 

You’re just as curious about Tommy as you are Joel. Could he be a Mothman, too? 

-

After a successful lunch at Village Pizza, you part ways for the rest of the afternoon, giving you time to rest after your drive until you go out tonight. 

You take a nap, having the most vivid dreams about Mothman Joel and potentially Mothman Tommy until your alarm goes off and it’s time to get ready. 

You opt for a t-shirt that says The only thing keeping me going is Mothman’s fat ass. Maybe he’ll like this one better. 

At eight you get a text from Joel saying he’s in the lobby so you look over your appearance once more in the mirror before swiftly meeting him downstairs. 

“Well don’t you look beautiful, Luna,” he says, pulling you in for a hug and a quick kiss on your neck. Excitement already brews between your legs just from the small gesture of affection. 

“Thanks, Joel,” you smile, pulling away and looking at him. He’s wearing dark jeans and a flannel. And his curls are extra fluffy. God, he looks good. 

“Same place as last time?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he says, leading you out of the hotel with a hand on the small of your back. 

“Much better shirt this time,” he whispers in your ear as you walk side by side. You just giggle in response. 

It’s starting to get a little busy on the streets but nothing crazy just yet. It’s only Friday evening and the festival won’t hit its peak until tomorrow night. The bar is relatively crowded inside but luckily there’s a small booth for the two of you in the back. They have the same drink special you got last year– the blood orange margarita with a gummy butterfly on top. It’s feeling like old times again. 

Joel nurses a beer as you make small talk, nothing too wild or crazy. It’s Mothman weekend in the Mothman capital of the country. You can’t exactly ask him all your burning questions about Mothman lore just yet. But the drinks are loosening you up and you’re sitting closer to each other, cheeks burning with desire for one another. 

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks as if he read your mind. 

“You know it!” you say, slamming the rest of your drink and grabbing your purse. 

He grabs your hand and helps you up from the booth, making your way to the bar so he can pay the tab. Once that’s all set, he leads you outside, hand on the small of your back again. The street is busy now and you’re walking through crowds of people packed shoulder to shoulder. The hand on your back quickly turns into a snug arm around your waist to ensure you don’t get separated among the drunken festivalgoers. 

He wakes you down the street, at least a few blocks, until he turns down a small secluded alley, bringing you all the way to… a truck? 

“Why do you need a truck?”

“You think I just fly everywhere?”

“Well… No, I guess not.”

“I’ll blow my cover.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, admitting defeat. “It’s just kinda funny to picture Mothman driving a truck.”

“I don’t drive the truck in my moth form.” 

“Are you able to just like… shift at will?” you ask. Now that you’re alone you’re taking the opportunity to get all your burning questions answered. 

“Yes. But it wasn’t always that way,” he says, unlocking this truck. 

You sit in the back together and while you know what’s going to happen next you’re not sitting on any dicks until you get your questions answered. 

“So… how did you turn into Mothman?”

“I went on a hike one way and got lost… Ended up coming in contact with the wood spirits who cursed me for encroaching on their land.”

“Wood spirits??”

“Mhm.”

“Where?”

“Texas.”

“You never told me you were from Texas.”

“I don’t share a lot of information about myself normally.” 

“How’d you end up here?”

“Back then I couldn’t control when I could shift and I didn’t want to give my family a bad reputation back in Austin.” 

“So you’ve been alone this whole time?”

“I see Tommy from time to time.”

“What about other people from the festival? Have you… done this sort of thing before?”

“Like what I have with you?” he says, looking at you and placing a hand on your thigh. 

“Yeah,” you say, looking away, almost as if you’re afraid of his answer.

“No. You’re the first one, Luna.”

“Really?” you say, meeting his eyes again. His pupils are blown wide, looking at you with all the love and admiration in the world. For a split second, you swear his eyes flash red. 

“I mean it.”

He leans in closer, the hand on your moving closer to the hem of your skirt. That was enough questioning for now. 

You take it upon yourself to straddle his lap. His large hands grab your thighs, fingertips sinking into your soft skin as he manhandles you. Your wetness is growing at an impossible rate. Something about Joel drives you crazy. Aside from your obvious attraction to him, it has to be the pheromones. He sinks his teeth in your neck as you rock your rips back and forth. The wetness runs down your thighs and pools on his bulge. You purposely skipped out on panties for this occasion. 

“So wet for me, Luna. I can feel it,” he says, kissing up your neck and along your jawline. 

His mouth ghosts yours, warm breath tickling your face. You smell his fruity aroma like you did in the forest all those months ago. You haven’t even seen him in his Mothman form yet. And here he is, driving you wild with his pheromones. 

“Joel…” you whine. “I need you.”

“Beg for me.”

“I can’t wait any longer,” you say, needily rutting your hips into him. 

“No?” he teases.

“No,” you whimper. 

He reaches in between your thighs, hastily undoing the fly of his jeans and pulling out his cock. You lean back and look down– eight inches, thick, and uncut with pre-cum leaking from the tip. He strokes himself, spreading the wetness he’s built up down his shaft, looking at you with a devilish grin.

“You want it?”

“More than anything.”

“Come and get it.”

You pull up your skirt and inch forward, wet cunt hovering over his rock-hard cock before sinking down onto him. Your warmth envelops every inch, walls expanding to accommodate his girth. 

“Good girl,” he praises, hands squeezing your waist. 

You rest your hands on his shoulders, knees supporting you on the old leather seats of his truck. You bounce and ride in the backseat, condensation forming on the windows. 

“You take my cock so good. Look at you, puttin’ on a show for me,” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look directly into his eyes. You swear they flash red again. You’re too far gone, too cock drunk to form coherent sentences, looking at him with your falling into a soft O. Beads of sweat dot your forehead as you’re sent into a state of pure euphoria. It’s almost too much. 

Until it isn’t.

Your orgasm rips through you, core muscles convulsing erratically. He feels and grips your chin harder, showering you with praise.

“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s right. Soak my cock.”

“Fuck, Joel. It’s so good,” you moan, a single tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Mmm my cock makes you feel so good, doesn’t it, Luna?”

“It does, Joel– Ah!” you start to say. But you’re cut off with a moan as Joel jerks his hips up into you. And then he finally spills his load into you, letting out a string of grunts and curse words. 

Your hips slow to a stop and you rest against him, your head on his shoulder. He softly rubs your back and whispers words of praise in your ear. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Yeah?” you ask, sleepiness dripping from your voice.

“Mhm. And tomorrow night’s going to be so special.”

“Why’s that?”

“It will be. Just trust me.”

“Okay,” you whisper, letting yourself succumb to sleep. 

-

The next morning you wake up in your bed alone, not remembering how you got there. You rub your eyes and roll over to find your phone, squinting at the bright screen. Joel texted you a few hours ago. 

Text me when you’re awake.

You glance at the time and see that you slept through the morning and most of the afternoon. It’s three o’clock. Yikes. 

But it’s not like last night wasn’t worth it. 

Good morning? But I guess it’s really the afternoon now haha

How’d you sleep?

Like a baby!

That’s good to hear. Can you call me?

You sit upright and dial his number, putting the phone to your ear and hearing his gruff voice over the line. 

“Hey, Luna.”

“Hi, Joel.”

“I wanted to talk about the plans for tonight.”

“Okay. Is Tommy in town yet?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool! Where should we go?”

“Well, I was thinkin’... You know how you met me in the woods last year?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you say we do the same tonight?”

“But the stakeout is tomorrow night.”

“I know… It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I-”

“You know you’re safe with me, right?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Head to the McClintic Wildlife Area at nine, okay?”

“Okay, Joel. See you then. Bye.”

You flop down on the bed and think about what shirt you’ll wear tonight. 

…And about what you’re going to do for your extremely late breakfast. 

-

After doom scrolling for a bit you shower and get dressed, opting for a shirt that says Mothman is real. We made out. He is a gentle and caring lover for tonight’s momentous occasion. 

You hit the town and kill time at The Coffee Grinder and some local museums, anxiously anticipating what tonight will bring. 

You creep through the forest, having flashbacks to what happened in these woods last year. That same citrusy, fruity aroma permeates the area again and gold dust hangs in the air. Joel must be near. 

Your phone buzzes.

Come closer. 

You walk further, your steps so gentle and quiet, careful not to startle other wildlife around you. And then you see it– the familiar red eyes. The scent grows stronger and so does the beat of your heart. Towering above you again is Joel, in his Mothman form of course. You’re not afraid. Instead, you’re happy he’s here in this state without the worry of being watched. 

And yet, you sense another presence behind you. Joel looks past you and whatever’s there. You turn and look, not sure what you think should be there. 

You couldn’t have expected what was before your eyes. 

A creature, just as tall as Mothman. Gargantuan black wings spread out– hooves instead of feet. And a long tail forked at the tip. 

You want to scream. And yet, when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You’re paralyzed with fear. But Joel doesn’t seem to mind whatever this is. 

Is this some sort of sick joke? Did he lure you into a false sense of security and now after a year something terrible is going to happen?

“Alright, Tommy. Shift back. You’re scarin’ her.”

A silver mist permeates the area. It’s an earthy pine scent. You blink and it starts to dissipate, most of the remnants of it are left on your exposed skin. And before you is a man, bearing a resemblance to Joel.

“...Tommy?”

You turn your head and see that Joel’s still in his Mothman form. Your gaze bounces back and forth between the two of them until it finally lands on Tommy again. He’s smirking, a smile that matches Joel’s. 

“What… are you?” you ask.

“You ever heard of the Jersey Devil, baby?” Tommy says, 

“That’s what you meant when you said he was in Jersey?” 

You turn your head and look at Joel again. When he speaks his mouth doesn’t move, almost like he’s talking to you telepathically. 

“Mhm. Left a little clue for ya.”

Joel finally shifts back into his human form. Small remnants of the gold dust still hang in the air, along with the fruity scent. You know what’s going to happen next. It’s as if a fog washes over you and controls your free will, wiping other thoughts from your mind. Your most primal urges are unlocked. 

You knew Joel’s Mothman form had this effect on you but Tommy’s you had no idea about. Hell, you were assuming he was another Mothman this whole time, not some other cryptid. And yet his pheromones are having the same effect on you as Joel’s. And the feeling is more intense, burning from the inside out. 

“Joel, I feel different.” 

“S’Okay, Luna. We’ll take real good care of ya. I promise.” 

“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath. 

Joel comes closer to you and grabs your hand. Tommy follows you from behind. You tread deeper into the forest, feeling your skin grow hotter as you walk. You try to make small talk to take your mind off of the feeling. 

“So Tommy, how did you become…”

“The Jersey Devil?”

“Yeah.”

“Some guy in a bar bet me that I wouldn’t walk into the woods so I had to prove em’ wrong.”

“That’s it?”

“And then I crossed paths with the wood spirits.”

“Those pesky wood spirits,” you joke.

“Why did you leave Austin?”

“Same reason as Joel. Save my family the embarrassment back when I couldn’t control it.”

“And you chose New Jersey of all places?”

“What’s wrong with New Jersey?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “You just… couldn’t pay me to live in New Jersey.”

“Ouch,” Joel chimes in. “She’s got a point, though.”

“Listen, there was a severe lack of cryptid presence in that area.”

You all share a laugh before Joel brings you to a small clearing in the forest. The grass is soft beneath you and the nighttime air cools you off, but only just a little. You know what you need to do to get rid of this fever. 

You immediately start by shedding your clothes. The urge is incessant. Both brothers smirk as you shed your t-shirt and jeans. But you only start to feel a shred of relief when Joel puts his hands on you, caressing your breasts and whispering in your ear. 

“We’re gonna take such good care of ya,” he says, kissing your neck. “Just lie down for me, okay?” 

You nod and lie down on the forest floor. A shiver runs down your spine as they tower over you. 

“So… who first?” 

“I’ll let Tommy here have the honor of tasting you, Luna.” 

You spread your legs as Tommy takes off his shirt. His arms are toned, glistening in a mixture of sweat and the silver mist from earlier. He hovers over your face for a second, smirking down at you. You catch a whiff of him and grow even hornier– that pine scent, whatever it is, does something to you, something you can’t explain. 

He lowers himself in between your thighs, warm breath tickling your thighs as he chuckles at how wet you are. He licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, making you shudder. Joel crouches down beside you, hand trailing up your side and caressing the outline of your breast. He looks down at you with wide eyes and the same thing happens again– you swear they flicker red for a second. 

Tommy’s arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush against his face. His mouth latches on your clit, drawing a deep moan from you. 

“He’s making you feel so good, isn’t he, Luna?” Joel asks with a smirk.

“Mhm,” you whine, biting your lip.

“Well, tell him!”

You look down at Tommy and shudder before saying, “Fuck, that feels good.”

Tommy looks up at you from in between your thighs, mouth never leaving your clit. He hums in acknowledgment, sending a vibration through your core. You curse under your breath and close your eyes. But Joel grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, Luna.”

You open your eyes just as he takes your nipple between his fingers, playing with it while Tommy brings you closer to the edge. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it expertly until the floodgates burst and you cum hard. 

Your moans fill the surrounding area, music under the pale moonlight. Both men watch as you writhe under their touch. Your back arches off the forest floor as your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled already. 

Tommy lazily laps up your release, tongue swirling around your entrance until your body finally relaxes on the grass. But the fever hasn’t dissipated yet. The night is far from over. 

Tommy stands and switches positions with Joel. It’s like an unspoken agreement between the two men. While Tommy’s allowed to play with your body, he knows that you belong to Joel and so does your pussy. 

Joel pulls off his shirt. His veins bulge from his pumped-up biceps and like Tommy, his skin is glistening, too. Your mouth falls open as his large hands grab your hips, pulling you into the bulge growing in his pants. 

“You ready for me, Luna?”

“I can’t wait any longer, Joel.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles. “But be a good girl and take care of Tommy too, okay?”

You look to your right and see Tommy kneeling beside you. He takes the clothes strewn about around you and places them under your head, pulling his cock out of his jeans. Pre-cum leaks from the tip as he strokes himself, his other hand caressing your cheek. 

Joel gathers your wetness on his hand and spreads it on his cock, holding your hips as he thrusts into you in one clean motion. You gulp and open your mouth for Tommy, trying to take as much of his cock as you can. Joel’s cock hits all the perfect angles inside you, your second orgasm becoming imminent. Your body takes the force of Joel’s thrusts as Tommy fucks your mouth, his thumb brushes against your skin while he holds your head. 

“Good fuckin’ girl. Takin’ two cocks at once,” Joel remarks.

You hum in response, tears welling up in your eyes from the intense feeling. With one last slam of Joel’s hips, you cum around his cock. The muscles in your core contract erratically, sending you into a state of pure bliss. Tommy ruts his hips into your mouth, spilling his cum down your throat. You feel the fever finally start to subside as both men release their spend inside you. Tommy pulls out of your mouth and leans back, putting his cock back in his jeans. You look at Joel who’s still inside you, holding onto your hips tightly. His eyes are closed, his jaw slack. He looks completely blissed out himself. It isn’t until his cock goes soft inside you that he pulls out. 

“How’d you find this one?” Tommy asks, putting his shirt back on. 

“She found me,” Joel says.

“I’m glad I did,” you sigh. 

Once you’ve all come down from your respective highs, you sit up as Tommy grabs your clothes and hands them to you. He unfurls your shirt, looking at the wording with a smirk on his face.

“Mothman is real. We made out. He is a gentle and caring lover?” he laughs.

“Shut up!” Joel says.

“Oh don’t get so defensive, Joel! You know it’s true!”

The two men help you get dressed and help you off your feet. You walk back to your car together before parting ways for the night. 

“Gonna go fly around or something?” you say to Joel.

“Something like that,” he responds, kissing you one last time before disappearing back into the forest with Tommy. You drive back to the hotel in silence, still in shock from what just happened. But as you park, your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Joel. 

New annual tradition?

You’re certainly not objecting. 

End note: The New Jersey dig was all in good fun please don’t come for me 😭 Half of my family is from there 💀

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Mothman Joel hype squad: @corazondebeskar @clawdee @covetyou @drunk-and-capable @pr0ximamidnight

@ozarkthedog @schnarfer @frogjumps-world @wreckdwolf

@dugiioh @tishmeister @tuquoquebrute @aphroditesblunt @milla-frenchy @casa-boiardi @morgaussy @arcadian-times

@silentraccoon @minispidey @pedrostories @endofthexline

[pedroscurls]

Guys Night Out

Character(s): Joel Miller (pre-apocalypse) and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: Tommy takes Joel to a strip club. Word Count: 7,160 (lol i got carried away) Author's Note: This is just pure filth lol, no context, no backstory, just Joel finally getting some much deserved release😉 Warning: smut!!! (lapdance, p in v, oral m receiving, woman on top, doggy style, brief daddy kink, dirty talk) Songs: Pony by Ginuwine // Untitled (How Does it Feel) by D'Angelo (bold+italics = song lyrics)

“Come on, Joel,” Tommy said. “It’s just one night out and I know Sarah’s sleeping over at a friend’s. What are you gonna be doin’ all night?”

“I don’t know, Tommy, maybe actually get some rest?” Joel said, lugging his tools into the bed of his truck. He knew that Tommy was right; he definitely needed to let loose and have some fun, especially since he had been working nonstop for the past few weeks. 

“Sounds boring.” 

“It ain’t boring.”

“Ah, so you’re just an old man then,” Tommy smirked.

Joel narrowed his eyes and gently slapped his younger brother at the back of his head. “I ain’t old and you know it.”

“Sure beats me,” Tommy replied, rubbing the back of his head as he quietly chuckled. 

Joel sighed and looked over at Tommy. “Where y’all going anyway?” 

Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you’ll come out tonight?”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“How about this,” Tommy began, climbing into the passenger side of the truck while Joel climbed into the driver’s side. “I buy your first round.” 

Joel scoffed, starting the car. “Will I be able to choose what I wanna drink or are you gonna be doin’ that for me?” 

“Whatever you want, brother,” Tommy grinned. “First round’s on me.” 

Joel shrugged. “Alright, maybe. We’ll see.” 

“You won’t regret it.” 

“I’m thinkin’ I might,” he replied. 

“You’ve been working your ass off, Joel.” Tommy said, glancing over at his older brother as he began to drive. “You deserve a night out for yourself.” 

“As long as you promise we ain’t gettin’ in any trouble tonight,” Joel responded. 

“Me? Trouble?” Tommy feigned a gasp, followed by another laugh. “Fine, no trouble.”

“Alright, I’ll see ya tonight.” 

—

“Tommy, what in the hell?” Joel said, climbing out of his truck to see that Tommy had given him directions to a strip club. This wasn’t what he was expecting and it certainly wasn’t something he was used to. He knew that Tommy was the more outgoing, more friendly, more charming of the two, but he just didn’t know that this was the place Tommy wanted to be at when he said it was going to be a guys night out. 

“What?” Tommy chuckled. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“We’re at a goddamn strip club.”

“I know,” he replied. “I’m the one who gave you the directions.” 

“What are we doing at a strip club, Tommy?” 

He grinned, clasped a hand on Joel’s shoulder and led him inside. “Lettin’ loose.”

Joel immediately felt out of place once he walked into the strip club. It was definitely a sight that he wasn’t used to: plenty of men surrounding the stage with stripper poles, countless women (some even topless) dancing and roaming the floor to men who wanted their attention. Joel would be lying if he said that he regularly had sex; in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he did have sex. 

Sarah and work were his main priorities and anything that didn’t involve either of the two didn’t seem important to him. 

But now, as he followed Tommy to the bar, he found himself yearning for contact, for a woman to give him attention, for release of all the pent-up emotions he didn’t realize he was bottling in. 

“Alright, what you wanna drink?” Tommy asked.

Joel cleared his throat, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll just get a beer.” 

Tommy looked over at Joel and let out a laugh, watching how uncomfortable his older brother looked. “Relax,” he said. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Joel narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw. “I was expecting a bar, not a goddamn strip club.” 

“What’s the difference?”

Joel shook his head. “You know damn well what the difference is, Tommy. Is this where you usually go whenever you go out?” 

“Not always,” Tommy chuckled. “But I wanted to bring you here because I feel like it’d help you let loose. You’re always so uptight, so focused on everyone else but you.” 

“I got a kid to look after. If I’m uptight, it’s because I need to make sure she’s taken care of.” 

“Right,” Tommy said, nodding. “Makes sense. I know Sarah’s your world, Joel. I ain’t sayin’ that’s a bad thing. I’m just sayin’ you gotta do some things for yourself once in a while.” 

Joel sighed, taking the beer from the bartender. Again, he knew Tommy was right. He was probably working himself to an early grave with the amount of hours he had put into work; even Sarah noticed how busy he had seemed. 

“Fine,” Joel said. “So, what do we do here? Take a seat and just hand out dollar bills?”

Tommy laughed. “That’s the premise of it, yeah.” 

Joel’s attention moved from his brother to someone who had come out from behind the stage. You were (obviously) wearing a skimpy bikini, almost too thin and revealing to even be considered clothes. Your hair was down and wavy, but as you walked towards the bar, there had been something different Joel noticed. Your eyes lit up and your smile managed to capture and hold his attention longer than the other women who were dancing or walking from table to table. 

You seemed genuine, more real compared to the other women and Joel found himself captivated. His eyes ran along your frame, watching as your hips swung with each step and when you met his eyes, Joel immediately looked away, almost like he was embarrassed to have been caught that he was obviously ogling you.

Tommy saw Joel’s eyes intently focused on you and he couldn’t help but laugh. When you had come closer to the bar and leaned against it, Tommy was the one to strike up a conversation. 

“Hi there,” Tommy said, taking a sip of drink. 

“Hello,” you smiled, looking up at Tommy. “How are y’alls night going?” 

“Going great now,” he winked. “Right, Joel?” 

Joel cleared his throat. He nodded and raised his glass in your direction. “We’re doing fine, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Joel was kicking himself with all the polite pleasantries, but the way you were staring intently at him had him fumbling over his words. 

Tommy snickered and shook his head. “Excuse my brother. He’s not– This ain’t usually his scene.”

“Oh? First time?” You asked, tilting your head with a smile. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Tommy chuckled. 

“I just ain’t used to–”

“Beautiful, naked women?” You interrupted with a grin. “That’s okay. It ain’t for everyone.”

Tommy let out a laugh and Joel felt even more embarrassed, but as you continued to look at him, he somehow felt himself relax. The fact that you weren’t throwing yourself at them like the other women who were probably instructed to do so provided a sense of comfort. 

“Well, I’m Sunshine,” you smiled. “If y’all need anythin’, just let me know. I’ll be happy to help.” 

Joel cleared his throat and nodded. When you walked away, Joel’s eyes fell to your backside. He bit the inside of his cheek and watched as you looked over your shoulder, meeting his eyes with a smile. 

“Sunshine ain’t her real name, right?” Joel asked. 

“Of course not,” Tommy chuckled. “By the way, ma’am?” 

“Oh, shut up.”

—

Throughout the night, Joel followed Tommy’s lead, but all he could think about was you. He had only seen you that one time at the beginning of the night, but hadn’t seen you since. That was until Tommy had excused himself to the bathroom and came back out with you walking alongside him. Joel straightened up in his seat and glanced over in your direction before Tommy took his seat back next to him. 

“I got you a little somethin’,” Tommy whispered, nudging Joel’s arm. 

“Tommy–”

“Joel, right?” You smiled, looking down at him. He was definitely one of the better looking patrons that came in and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t attracted to him. 

“That’s right,” Joel nodded. 

“Wanna come with me?” you asked, biting your lower lip. 

“Oh,” Joel furrowed a brow and glanced over at Tommy who gave him a smirk. “Where to?” 

“Let’s find out.” You gently took his hand, feeling the rough calluses. You had to wonder what he did for a living, but you assumed he worked a lot with his hands. They were even much larger than yours too and you wondered what else about him was big. 

“Tommy…” 

“I won’t bite,” you teased. “Unless you like that.” 

Joel cleared his throat and looked over at Tommy.

“It’s just one private dance, Joel. Relax,” Tommy said.

Joel stood up and looked down at you. This time, he caught you looking at him from top to bottom and it gave him a surge of confidence. He wondered if you found him attracted too, but maybe this was all part of the job: feign interest to get more tips. Eagerly though, Joel followed you towards the back of the room and watched as you entered another smaller room, much more private and distant from the front of the strip club. It was also much quieter, darker, but he can still visibly make you out. 

“So, Joel,” you said, shutting the door behind you both. “Is this okay?” 

“I– Uh,” he bit his lower lip. “I don’t see why not, darlin’. Is this okay with you?” 

You smiled at that. Not many men would be so polite and thoughtful as Joel and you found it endearing, charming actually. So, you walked towards him, entering his personal space until you were just a few inches away from him. He towered over you, but there was an aura about him that you found to be comforting, safe even. 

“More than okay with me.” Then, you moved your hands to his chest and gently pushed him until he was sitting on the sofa. Joel looked up at you, biting his lower lip in anticipation. He tried to remind himself that it would be absolutely embarrassing if he were to get an erection especially since it wasn’t going to lead to anything. It was just a dance. One dance and that was it. 

Or so he thought. 

Joel watched you turn the music on. It filtered the entire room, shutting out the rest of the people from the outside as he remained completely focused on you and the way your hips moved expertly to the beat of the song. 

It really had been such a long time since he had any connection with the opposite sex. Joel found himself craving more and more of you specifically, especially with the way your eyes locked onto his. It made him feel special, like no one else in this strip club was significant enough to have your attention. 

But here he was, eyes locked with yours as you moved your body to the beat of the song. 

Each step you took, you found yourself in a heated gaze with him. His eyes were piercing through your soul, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and it gave you the confidence to continue, to prolong this dance as long as you could. 

If you're horny let's do it

Ride it, my pony

Slowly, you straddled his lap and moved your hands to rest on the back of the couch. You heard him let out a quiet grunt once you were on his lap and you tried your hardest not to falter when you felt his bulge press firmly against your heat. 

Still, your eyes remained locked with his and Joel kept his hands on his sides, not sure what was appropriate or what was allowed. He certainly didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Joel felt your hips roll against him, applying just the right amount of pressure against the center of his jeans.

My saddle's waiting

Come and jump on it

Your hips lifted from his own, but your body continued to move. You accentuated each move and gently reached down to grab his hands, allowing him to place them on your hips. Your hands moved from the back of the couch to his chest, running them slowly up and down and feeling the muscle from beneath your fingertips. 

Joel gripped your hips, fingertips digging gently into your skin as he allowed your body to move firmly against his. The feeling of your hands running along him made him even more excited and when you finally broke eye contact, Joel took this opportunity to watch your body move expertly to the song. 

You leaned forward, lips hovering near his ear as your hips rolled against him, planting yourself back against his lap. “You enjoyin’ yourself?” you whispered.

Joel groaned quietly in response and held you in place for a moment, pulling back to look up at you. “Oh, Sunshine, you have no idea.”

The way your name left his lips suddenly got you aroused and you felt a wetness settle between your legs. This was highly unprofessional, but there was just something about him that made you want more. 

You stood from his lap and bit your lower lip. You teased the string of your bikini, watching as his eyes raked over your frame. When he saw you reach for the string, watching you teasingly pull it undone, Joel had to compose himself. In just a few seconds, your chest would be exposed and part of him wanted to stop this, wanted to take you back home so that he could finish the only way he knew how, but he had to remind himself that to you, this was just a job. 

But as he was anticipating your top to fall from your body, it never came. Instead, Joel watched as you moved your hands to his knees and up his thighs before you turned around and gave him a good view of your backside. Joel grunted lowly, which the music managed to hide, as he continued to watch your hips move, your butt moving to firmly plant itself against his lap again. Joel felt his lower half throb and stir awake every time you met his eyes, every time your hips moved against his. 

And as you looked over your shoulder at him with your lower lip between your teeth, flashing him an innocent look, Joel felt himself almost lose his composure. 

He wanted you bad. 

Just once if I have the chance

The things I would do to you

You and your body

Your hands remained on his knees as your hips rolled against his. It was obvious that you could feel his throbbing erection against you and while normally that would be a sign for you to end the dance, you found it hard to stop yourself. 

You wanted more of him. 

Joel felt comfortable enough to allow his hands to roam your body, so he ran his hands up and down your sides as your hips moved against his own. He had to wonder if you were getting excited too, if you were getting wet at the feel of him and part of him was hoping that you would make the first move and tell him to meet you after work. 

That maybe he wasn’t as crazy as he thought to think that only he was feeling some sort of connection with you. 

If you’re horny let's do it

Ride it my pony

As the song came to an end, Joel found himself dreading the moment you had to get up and tell him that this was over. Instead, he was surprised when you stood from his lap only to straddle him again, except this time, your face mere inches from his and your chest pressing against his own.

God, Joel wanted you so badly. 

“So,” you whispered, lips hovering against his own. “What’s the verdict?”

Joel licked his lower lip. “I think you ruined me, darlin’.”

You let out a quiet giggle as your hands moved to his shoulders. “That so?”

Joel nodded. “I don’t think anyone can top that, Sunshine.” Then, he realized that the feeling was mutual. Once your name left his lips, he felt you squeeze your legs together while you remained on his lap and a quiet whimper escaped your lips. This gave Joel another inch of confidence as his hands moved to your hips. 

“If this ain’t professional, let me know, but…” Joel began. “I wanna take you home.” 

You bit your lower lip. “This never happens. I usually have a rule and–”

“I understand,” Joel interrupted, feeling embarrassed that he even suggested something so crazy. “This is your job and–”

“But I want you,” you said, interrupting him. 

“You do?” Joel asked, surprised. 

You leaned forward, whispering quietly into his ears. “I’m practically soaked, Joel.”

Joel growled at that and pulled back to look at you. “Can I take you home?” 

You smiled. There it was again. So polite and gentleman-like. You were sure that if it was any other man, they would have taken you right then and there, but Joel… Joel was different. 

“I’m off in a couple of hours.” 

Joel nodded. “I can wait.”

—

Two hours later Joel was outside in the parking lot, waiting for you. He had told Tommy exactly what happened and his younger brother was all too eager to let this happen, to leave him here without a ride. Joel wondered if you would change your mind, but when he saw you come out of the building dressed in leggings and an oversized hoodie, he found himself even more attracted to you now than when you were wearing that skimpy bikini. 

“Wow,” he called out. 

You smiled and walked over to him. You were sure that once he saw you dressed in an outfit that wasn’t revealing or without any makeup that he was going to change his mind. Besides, it helped that the only thing you were wearing earlier was a very tiny bikini that didn’t leave much to the imagination. So, you expected him to change his mind, that he didn’t want to take you home after realizing that you weren’t what he wanted anymore. 

But the way he was looking at you told you otherwise. Even now as your entire body was covered up, your hair in a messy bun, and bare faced, he was still looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Stop,” you blushed. 

“What?” Joel smiled. 

“You’re looking at me.”

He chuckled. “You’re nice to look at.”

“Even without the makeup and tiny bikini?”

“You know,” Joel smiled. “I think I like you better this way.” 

You blushed and set your bag into the backseat of your car. Joel gently took your hand and turned you around to face him. He bit his lower lip as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he began. “We can just go our separate ways and–”

You interrupted him with a kiss, lips pressing against his as you stood on your toes. Joel melted into you as one hand moved to your hip and the other to cup your cheek. But before it could go any further, you pulled away.

“I want this. I want you.” 

Joel nodded and leaned down to peck your lips. “Good because I want you too, darlin’.”

The drive was short to Joel’s house and you found it hard to focus when you felt his eyes on you as you drove. You spared him a few glances and while there was a look of hunger in his eyes, there was also a sense of appreciation; Joel looked at you like you mattered, like you were special, like you were the only woman who deserved his attention. 

You pulled into his driveway and glanced over at him. When he climbed out of your car, you saw him rush around to meet you by opening your door. He looked at you with a small smile as he extended a hand out for you. You felt butterflies swarming within you and part of you hoped that whatever was going to happen next would happen again. Sure, you hadn’t had sex with him (yet), but you were absolutely sure that you were going to want more of him. 

“You always this polite?” You asked, climbing out of your car with his help. 

Joel chuckled and led you inside. “Only to the pretty ones.” 

You bit your lower lip and felt a blush creep up along your cheeks. Once inside, you glanced around and immediately felt how warm and cozy it was. You saw a few photographs with Joel and Tommy, but when you saw a younger girl, you glanced over at him. You weren’t sure if this was only going to be a one time thing, so you didn’t bother to ask, didn’t bother to pry out personal information from him.

“You want anythin’ to drink, darlin’?” 

You nodded. “Sure. Water’s fine.” 

Joel gave you a quick kiss and walked down the hall to the kitchen. You followed him eagerly as your eyes still took in your surroundings. This was so much different than your small apartment. 

“My daughter’s at a sleepover,” Joel said, handing you a glass of water. 

Well, that answered your question. You took the glass from him and took a sip, looking up at him. “So, you’re a dad.” 

“I am.”

“Daddy,” you teased. “It fits you.”

Joel narrowed his eyes and let his eyes rake over your frame. Despite the clothes that you were wearing, all he could imagine was that skimpy bikini you were wearing and how you had almost removed your top for him earlier that night. He gently moved his hands to your hips, backing you into the counter, trapping you between his body and the kitchen counter. 

“You’re trouble, ain’t ya?” he whispered. 

“You want me to be?” You took another sip of your water before setting it aside. Slowly, you moved your hands to wrap around his shoulders, looking up at him. “I can be whatever you want me to be, Joel.”

Joel let out a quiet growl and leaned down to brush his lips against yours. “So, if I ask you to bend over for me, you’d do it?”

“Happily,” you replied, biting your lower lip. 

“And if I ask you to get down on your knees, you’d do that too?” 

You nodded, feeling the wetness pool between your legs almost immediately. “Oh yeah… And if you asked me to beg, I’d do that without question also.”

Joel groaned and moved his lips to your jawline, gently nipping along the way as he moved to the side of your neck. You whimpered, feeling his beard scratch against you. Your eyes fell shut and you tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck for him. His lips moved along your skin, dragging teeth and tongue across plenty of hot spots that you didn’t realize you even had. 

You would be lying if you said your sex life was exciting, but the majority of the time, the men you had been with always seemed to only care about themselves. Though, it seemed like Joel was the type of man to cater to you and that brought an intense excitement that settled in the pit of your stomach. 

Joel moved his lips to your earlobe, gently nipping as he brought you flush against him. You could feel his bulge from beneath his jeans as you rolled your hips impatiently against him, needing contact and friction. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, darlin’,” Joel whispered huskily. “I’ll have you beggin’ for more.” 

You moaned quietly and gently pushed him away. He looked down at you with darkened eyes as you watched him reach down to squeeze himself. Clearing your throat, you grabbed his hand and led him back down towards the hall.

“Where’s your room?”

“Upstairs.” 

Nodding, you led him upstairs and once at the top, allowed Joel to lead the way. Once inside his room, you shut the door behind the both of you. Glancing around, you noticed how spacious it was and how big his bed was too. Everything in his room was neat, but his bed was messy. You had to wonder if he had done this often; you didn’t see any pictures of any women and he didn’t wear a wedding ring, so you assumed he was single. 

Joel must have caught on to what you were thinking because he stepped up behind you and rested his hands on your hips. 

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while,” he whispered. 

“What’s a while?”

“Years,” Joel replied. 

“And you’re choosin’ me?” you asked, turning around to face him. 

Joel chuckled and nodded. “You did a number on me, Sunshine. That dance earlier tonight did a number on me. I haven’t wanted anyone more than I want you right now.” 

You smiled and leaned up to peck his lips lightly. “Condom?” 

Joel nodded and pulled away to walk towards his drawer. You could hear him rummaging through it before he pulled one out and held it up in your direction with a grin. 

“You want another dance, Joel?” you asked, biting your lower lip.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He simply nodded and sat at the edge of his bed, looking up at you in anticipation. You let out a quiet chuckle and looked around him, taking note of the radio on top of his dresser. Turning it on, you smiled immediately at the song that came on. 

Girl, it's only you

Have it your way

And if you want you can decide

And if you'll have me

I can provide everything that you desire

Slowly, you grabbed the end of your hoodie and pulled it over your head, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. So, when Joel finally took notice of your exposed chest, he sucked in a breath and moved a hand to the center of his pants, palming it slowly. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. 

You smiled and tucked your thumbs into the waistband of your leggings, slowly pulling them down your legs. He watched you kick the fabric aside as you stood in front of him with only a white, lacey thong on. 

Joel watched your hips slowly move from side to side, but he felt a bit overwhelmed. He didn’t know where to look; you were so beautiful and he found himself looking at you from top to bottom repeatedly. 

Though, when he saw you drop to your knees and slowly crawl towards him, he let out a quiet grunt in anticipation. He shifted at the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes locked onto yours as you sat up on your knees between his legs. He felt your hands run up his shins to his knees and thighs before your fingers quickly worked to undo his belt and button of his jeans. 

Joel unzipped his pants and pulled it down his legs, kicking them to the side as his member pressed against the fabric of his loose boxers. He reached the end of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it over his shoulder as his eyes remained focused on you. 

You bit your lower lip as you watched him undress. The wetness between your legs were becoming increasingly noticeable as your eyes raked over his frame. He was certainly built, muscles flexed in his arms and chest and as your eyes deviated to his manhood, you just knew that he was big. Probably bigger than you ever had. 

Say, if you get a feeling

Feeling that I am feeling

Won't you come closer to me, baby?

You've already got me right where you want me, baby

Your hands moved along his thighs as your fingertips pushed the fabric of his boxers further up his thighs. From this angle, you could see a glimpse of his member and you bit your lower lip in anticipation. 

“I’m on my knees,” you whispered, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on his bulge. “At your mercy, Joel…”

Joel groaned and moved a hand to cup your cheek, his fingers curling to grasp your hair. He pulled you back gently and used his other hand to gently bring you to your feet. 

“I want that dance first,” he smiled. As you stood between his legs, Joel ran his lips along your abdomen, placing gentle kisses as he looked up at you. He was at eye level with your exposed breasts and he leaned forward to wrap his lips around a nipple, watching as your hands immediately moved to rest on his shoulders. Joel groaned against you, flicking his tongue repeatedly against your as it erected within his lips. 

“Joel…” you whimpered, fingernails digging into his skin. “I– I can’t dance if you keep doin’ that.” 

Joel smiled and pulled away. “Okay, okay. I couldn’t resist. You’re goddamn beautiful.”

You blushed and allowed yourself to listen to the music, your body immediately swaying slowly to the slow tempo beat. You straddled his hips, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you firmly pressed yourself against the center of his boxers. The thin fabric of your thong and his boxers separated the both of you, but it gave you a glimpse of how aroused he was. 

Slowly, you rolled your hips, feeling him pulsate from beneath the fabric. You groaned quietly, keeping your eyes focused on him as you leaned forward to press your forehead against his. Joel’s hands moved to your hips, lowering them until he was grasping each butt cheek in his large hands. He gave your backside a hard squeeze, bringing you firmly against him with each roll of your hips.

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

Say, I wanna know how does it feel

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

Joel would be lying if he said that he couldn’t feel the heat coming from between your legs. With each roll of your hips, he could feel your wetness stain his boxers and it only excited him even further. He knew that it would be tough to let you go after tonight; Joel wasn’t the type of person to sleep with multiple people, which is probably why he didn’t do this often. 

He hadn’t even gotten a taste of you yet and already, Joel was planning the next time he was going to have you over. You piqued his interest in a way he never felt before and while he wasn’t sure what that really meant, Joel was leaning into this entire experience. He knew for sure that he would never hear the end of it from Tommy. 

“Joel,” you whispered, letting out a quiet moan. “Tell me what to do.” 

Joel smiled to himself and gently moved his lips to your neck, watching as you arched into him. Your hips rolled against him, slowing it down enough to feel the outline of his length pressing against your clothed sex. 

“Get on your knees,” Joel said, looking up at you. 

Your eyes lit up in excitement and stood up from his lap, slowly lowering yourself on your knees in front of him. You watched him reach for his boxers and once he lowered them down his legs to reveal his erected manhood, you immediately squeezed your legs together. Clearing your throat, you ran your hands up his legs, inching closer and closer to his member. 

Joel groaned in anticipation. He felt his member twitch as your hands moved closer to him and once he felt your hand wrap around his length, he let out a quiet moan. Joel bit his lower lip as he watched your hand stroke his base eagerly and once he saw you lean forward to wrap your lips around him, Joel was sure that he would have exploded right there. 

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

Say, I wanna know how does it feel

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

Your hand could barely wrap around Joel’s girth and when your lips finally wrapped around him, you had to remind yourself to remain calm, to take it slow despite your urge to see how much you could take him before your gag reflex kicked in. 

You saw how his head tilted back and his eyes fell shut at the sensations you were giving him. He was naked before you and while you had his member in your mouth, you felt so much more aroused and excited. He obviously took care of his body, but he wasn’t overly ripped either. He was…

Perfect. 

Your saliva was coating his member as you began to bob your head up and down, finding the right rhythm with the strokes your hand was doing at the base of his member. You gasped when you felt him reach down to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you away from his length with a quiet pop. 

He was looking down at you with dark, hooded eyes and chest heaving up and down rapidly as his member stood erect between his legs. You licked your lips and looked up at him, flashing him a small smile. 

“Now that I don’t mind begging to do.” you smiled. 

Joel growled and helped you to your feet. He stood with you and he looked at you from top to bottom before his hands grabbed the fabric of your thong before ripping it in half. You squeaked in surprise and stood in front of him, completely exposed and bare for his lingering eyes. 

“You’re wet for me, ain’t you, darlin’?” he asked. His hand remained in your hair and he gently squeezed to make you tilt your head back for him. Joel grunted, using his free hand to move between your legs, running his finger along the length of your sex. He leaned down and whispered huskily, “Oh, you’re soaked.”

“Told you,” you whimpered. “Joel, please…” 

Joel grinned against you and gently placed you on his bed, watching as you immediately spread your legs for him. He growled at the sight of you and settled himself between you, running his fingertips along the inside of your legs.

I'd love to make you wet

In between your thighs 'cause

I love when it comes inside you

I get so excited when I'm around you, baby

Joel was leaning back against his knees as your legs remained parted for him. His body did a great job with keeping your legs apart, especially when he ran his thumb along the length of your sex, seeing you squirm against his touch. He found your clit and slowly rubbed it in circles, watching as your back arched at the sudden sensation.

The tip of his member brushed against you, causing you both to let out a quiet groan. Joel didn’t falter for a second as his thumb continued to rub your clit in circles, applying pressure as he continued. With his other hand, he reached down and ran it along your abdomen and up to your breasts, massaging one into the pit of his palm. Slowly, he moved his thumb from your clit and slowly inserted one finger past your depths. Immediately, he felt your wetness and the tightness of your walls surrounding his single digit. 

“Joel!” You moaned aloud, moving your hands to grip at his sheets. Your eyes squeezed shut as your back arched, trying to squirm away from him. 

He grinned and moved his hand from your breast to drape over your waist, keeping you pinned against the bed as he began to move his finger in and out of you at a rapid pace. The sound of your wetness was heard, even over the quiet background noise of the radio. Joel licked his lips and slowly pulled away from you, bringing his finger to his lips. He sucked your wetness from his finger and grabbed the condom, tearing the wrapper open before he slid it over his throbbing length.

You slowly pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist once more. Joel was looking up at you with anticipation and you reached between your bodies to grasp his member, lining it up with your sex. You lifted your hips and kept your eyes focused on him before slowly lowering yourself onto his manhood, feeling a slight tinge of pain of his girth stretching you from the inside. 

Joel groaned at your tightness, his hands moving to your hips and giving it a tight squeeze.

“You are tight,” he growled.

“Maybe you’re just big,” you teased, feeling so full of him as you remained still on his lap once he filled you to the hilt. 

“Mmm,” he replied. “I’d say it’s both, baby.” 

Slowly, you rolled your hips against his own and allowed yourself to feel every inch of his length. Your hands moved to rest on his chest as you felt your walls slowly begin to give way to the size of him. 

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

Say, I wanna know how does it feel

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

“Joel,” you moaned, eyes falling shut as you began to lift your hips up and down his member. Your walls remained tight around him, milking him with each movement. 

Joel groaned quietly, fingertips digging into your hips as he helped you move along his length. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you; he knew how good of a dance you were, how well your hips moved, but as he remained buried deep within your depths, it gave him a different experience altogether. 

He held your hips still, giving himself enough space to begin thrusting upwards. Joel focused solely on you, how your eyes remained shut, mouth agape with moans continuously escaping your lips, and how your hands had squeezed his shoulders to hold onto him. With each upward thrust, Joel watched your breasts bounce, especially as his thrusts began to become a bit more erratic, a bit more rough. 

“Fuck,” you moaned aloud, slamming yourself down onto him as you felt yourself suddenly reach your climax. You collapsed down onto him, body trembling as your walls tightened even further around him. “Joel… Oh my god…”

He groaned at the feel of your walls tightening around him, wrapping around him in such a tight vice that Joel knew he was close too. It had been such a long time since he had sex that even he was surprised he was lasting as long as he was. 

Suddenly, Joel pulled out of you and scrambled to his feet. You watched him carefully, body feeling limp and your legs feeling shaky. Joel turned you so that you were on all fours which gave you the much needed rest as you pressed your cheek against the mattress. Your backside remained in the air and when Joel grabbed your hips to pull back against him, you were sure that another orgasm was fast approaching. 

Joel grasped his member and slid himself past your folds and into your tight depths. He let out a groan once he felt your warmth and wetness encompass his length, taking his time to slowly push himself further into you. He watched as your hands immediately moved to reach back, gently pushing at his lower abdomen as a sign that you probably couldn’t handle another. Joel took this as a challenge and grabbed your hands, holding your wrists and placing them firmly against your lower back. 

Now, you were definitely at his mercy. 

As Joel continued his slow thrusts, he heard your moans filter throughout his room, bouncing off the walls and mixing in with the sound of the radio and the sound of skin slapping against each other. His hips slowly rolled against yours, pulling out to his tip before he slammed himself back into you. Joel did this for a few more thrusts before he began to quicken his pace. He couldn’t hold it in any longer; he was about ready to burst. 

Joel’s thrusts were erratic, his hips pounding into yours from behind as he kept a tight hold on your wrists. His pace was frantic, brutal, merciless as he used your tight walls to bring him closer and closer to his own release. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, releasing your hands to hold onto your hips. “I’m gonna come, baby…”

You looked over your shoulder at him and bit your lower lip, meeting his thrusts with a push back of your own hips. He kept his eyes focused on you and slammed into you roughly, causing you to flatten onto the bed as he finally came. Joel’s body shuddered at his climax, panting against you. 

He pressed soft and lazy kisses along the back of your shoulder before pulling out with a groan. Joel removed the condom and tied a knot before tossing it in the trash. He then moved to lie next to you, his eyes raking over your backside before you turned to lie on your back, giving him another great view of your exposed front.

“You’re perfect,” Joel blurted, looking over at you. 

Smiling, you leaned over to press a gentle kiss on his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever–”

“Been fucked like that before?” he grinned. 

You licked your lower lip and nodded. “You definitely know what you’re doin’.” 

“Could say the same to you, Sunshine.” Joel winked. 

You looked up at him and quietly asked, “Should I go?” 

“What?” Joel asked, surprised. 

“I mean, do you want me to go?”

Immediately, he shook his head and wrapped his arms around your frame. “Hell no. I’m thinkin’ I should keep you.” 

You blushed and looked into his eyes. “So, this isn’t just a one time thing?” 

“Do you want it to be?” 

You shook your head. “No… I’d like to do this more often.”

Joel smiled and leaned down to capture your lips. Slowly, you found yourself leaning into him, his lips moving expertly with yours that it caused a sudden surge of excitement through your veins. 

“Then, it’s settled,” Joel began. “I’m keepin’ you, darlin’.” He leaned down and moved his lips from your own to your jawline and the side of your neck. Slowly, Joel settled himself between your legs as his lips moved further down your body. 

“Joel…” you whimpered. 

“I’m keepin’ you all to myself,” he murmured against you, nipping at your skin. “And I’ve been wantin’ to taste you all night long.” Joel was at eye level with your sex, running the length of his tongue along you which caused a loud moan to escape your lips. 

He pulled away briefly to look up at you, smiling to himself. While he hadn’t expected this night to go this way, he certainly wasn’t complaining. Joel was hooked and there was no way he was ever letting you go now. 

[hamsterclaw]

hii! i just finished the vows and I really love it. love the mixture of smut, fluff, angst, and even comedy in it. the chemistry between yoongi who's patient and devoted husband and oc misunderstood yet sometimes really chaotic, is one of the best chemistry I've ever read. you've explained a lot of backstories of the couple, specifically oc through drabbles, yet you haven't really explained about her having a different name. like when yoongi brought her to the hospital after the allergic reaction and then found out that she actually has a different name. I wanna hear the backstory for it, and maybe the full reaction from yoongi, like him bringing it up again.

Ah the name thing — my take is this. It’s not the norm for them for a spouse to change their name when they get married and so Yoongi was surprised to find out reader had taken his surname.

His reaction under the cut!

Warnings: Sex, swearing, sulking Yoongi

Your husband is sulking, you’re sure of it.

It’s unlike him. He has a limited repertoire of emotions from indifferent to exasperated, and you’ve never seen him like this.

You’re getting changed into one of his old t-shirts, and he hasn’t so much as looked at your ass once.

You keep him in your peripheral vision as you smooth your hands over your ass, pretending to straighten your silky shorts, but he doesn’t even blink.

‘Yoongi, are you ok?’ you ask.

He’s staring into his section of the walk-in wardrobe you share, and he’s definitely not choosing what to wear because he only wears one of two t-shirts to sleep.

Oh shit, is that what the problem is? You’ve nicked his shirt?

You wander over to him.

‘Hey, you want this shirt back?’ you offer.

He flicks his gaze at you, gives your tits a cursory glance and shrugs.

You pull the t-shirt over your head to give him a better look.

‘Here, you have it. It looks better on you anyway.’

You’re bare underneath, and you see the flare of interest in his eyes before he looks away again, accepting the t-shirt.

He slips it over his head.

‘Thanks.’

You rifle through his t-shirts and pick one at random to wear.

Yoongi’s already in bed by the time you finish washing your face, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

‘Are you angry with me, Yoongi?’ you ask, perching on his side of the bed.

‘No,’ he mumbles, refusing to meet your gaze.

‘It seems like you are,’ you say.

He turns over, back to you. ‘I’m tired, are you going to turn the lights off?’

He sounds crankier than ever.

‘Sure,’ you say.

You get up and turn the lights off, trip over his slippers on the way back.

‘Shit!’

You sense movement in the dark, and a moment later Yoongi’s reaching for you.

‘Are you ok?’

You hit his side table with your head on the way down, but you think you’re all right.

‘I’m ok,’ you tell him cheerfully.

‘What was that bang?’ asks Yoongi.

‘Just my head.’

Yoongi curses. ‘Are you ok?’ he asks again. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

His hand finds your arm. ‘Let me have a look.’

You blink your eyes closed as he shines his phone light at you.

‘I’m fine, Yoongi, stop shining that thing at me!’ you complain.

He mutters something you don’t quite catch.

‘What was that?’ you ask.

You can’t see him rolling his eyes, but he definitely is. You can tell by the tone of his voice when he says, ‘Maybe the reason you keep forgetting to tell me things is because you keep hitting your head.’

You grab the front of his shirt.

‘Do we need to talk about something, Yoongi?’

Yoongi grumbles, ‘Just get into bed before you hit anything else.’

You climb in next to him, roll over the opposite end, shivering a little at the coolness of the sheets.

The bed’s so big you can starfish and still not touch your inexplicably grumpy husband.

Yoongi asks, ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you care?’ you ask.

If your husband wants a fight, you’re more than willing to give him one.

He’s quiet, then he says, muffled, ‘your ass looks good in those shorts.’

‘Too bad you’re not getting near it tonight,’ you retort.

There’s the rustle of sheets, and a moment later your husband’s head hits your outstretched hand.

‘Why are you spread out like this?’ he asks.

You kick out your legs, and he huffs as your foot touches his.

‘What do you want, Yoongi?’ you ask.

‘I’m angry with you, but I want to fuck you.’

His bluntness startles a laugh out of you.

‘You should just say, I like angry sex too,’ you tell him.

Yoongi makes a sound very like a laugh that he quickly muffles.

‘Jagiya,’ he sighs.

‘Don’t jagiya me, Min Yoongi,’ you warn, rolling over into his arms.

He wraps an arm around your waist, buries his face in your neck, runs his hand over your hip, up the hem of his t-shirt, over your skin.

‘You make me so angry,’ he says, the gravel in his voice making your toes curl.

‘I always make you angry,’ you say, lips against his.

He turns his head a fraction, kisses you warm, deep. His hand’s stroking circles over your bare skin, inching up to touch your breasts.

‘Always,’ he agrees.

He cups a hand fully over your bare breast, and you shiver with delight as he thumbs your nipple.

He moves his hips, lets you feel how hard he is, nudging against you.

His lips are distracting you but you’re determined to finish your sentence. ‘Why are you always so mad at me, Yoongi?’

Yoongi’s busying himself pulling your t-shirt off, kissing a heated path down the valley between your breasts.

‘You make me crazy, jagiya,’ he mutters.

He runs his thumb over your nipple, follows it with a lash of his tongue. Rolls the pebbled flesh between his lips, sucks until you feel an answering pull, a tightness in your cunt.

‘Yoongi,’ you moan.

‘Shhh,’ he murmurs, popping off your nipple, soothing you with a lick.

The hand that was settled on the curve of your hip slides between your legs, against the strip of bunched cotton barely covering you now that you’re wet.

He hums, approving. ‘You like this, don’t you? You like me playing with these pretty tits, you always get so wet —-‘

He tugs his briefs down, nudges the blunt head of his cock against your slit, and the pressure of him against your panties makes you moan again.

‘Get inside, Yoongi,’ you plead, trying to push your panties off.

He touches along your folds, entering you shallowly with the tips of his fingers, teasing the pad of his thumb over your clit.

You cry out in frustration as he laps at your other nipple, rubs up over your clit.

‘Shit, I can feel you squeezing me,’ Yoongi taunts. ‘You want me?’

You’re fisting the sheets in frustration.

‘Yoongi please!’

Your maddening, infuriating husband has the audacity to smile.

He’s beautiful.

You want to punch him across his gorgeous face.

Instead, you ask, ‘Is this because I didn’t tell you I changed my name?’

There’s a flicker in his eyes that tells you that you’ve guessed correctly.

‘I’ve been L/N all my life, and it never meant a great deal to me,’ you say.

His hand stills between your legs, and his dark eyes are intent upon yours.

‘I thought taking your surname might give me a fresh start,’ you tell him.

It sounds stupid when you say it like that, naive.

You look away from Yoongi, curl a hand on his back. ‘Let’s get back to fucking,’ you say, unbearably self-conscious.

Yoongi’s still staring at you, you can feel the heat of his gaze.

Across the room at some social event, it gives you life to know your husband’s staring at you, usually with fury.

Here, in bed, where it’s just the two of you, it’s so searing and raw you can barely stand it.

Yoongi’s fingers curl under your chin, his thumb strokes your cheek, but he grants you the kindness of not forcing you to meet his eyes.

Instead, he tugs your panties down, enters you, sheathes himself to the hilt.

You let out a breath that’s halfway between a gasp and a moan.

You can’t help yourself, you sneak a glance at your husband.

You love when he looks like this, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes dark. He moves his hips in the way you love, and the drag of his cock inside you is exquisite.

Another moan spills from your lips, and Yoongi leans down, captures your lips with his.

‘You like this, jagiya?’

‘I like it,’ you say, breathless, and Yoongi kisses you again, intimate, slow.

‘Good, I want you to like it, you feel so good, fuck.’

He snaps his hips against yours, deep, slow, making you feel every inch of him, until your eyes are squeezed shut from the pleasure of it.

You come with a gasp of his name, and Yoongi breathes yours as he seeks his peak.

He curls his arms around you, tight, and seals his lips to yours as he comes.

Breathes you in.

Afterward, he reaches for his t-shirt, says, ‘put this on.’

He slips it over your head, grasps your hand against the cool sheets.

There’s quiet all around you now, no light save for the moon through the window.

‘Take it all,’ Yoongi says. He’s speaking softly, but his voice carries anyway.

‘You should take my name, my clothes, everything,’ he tells you.

You can’t see his face, even though it’s close to yours.

‘It’s all yours, jagiya.’

He seems to hesitate, an infinitesimal pause before he says, ‘all I have is yours. All of me is yours.’

You want to tease him about his phrasing but there’s a lump in your throat, and you can’t speak past it except to say his name.

Yoongi strokes his thumb over your hand, and his breathing slows, until you know he’s fallen asleep.

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, violence, angst

A/N: this chapter might be a little slower than the rest, but I felt like it was important to establish how they are surviving. I tried to keep it spicy and interesting but please stay with me, I believe I have some great stuff coming up :)

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

October 2003

Pittsburgh, PA

It had taken you nearly a full month to make it 400 miles, having to stop frequently and rest for a couple days here and there, but you were halfway to Chicago. Your bodies were not used to the constant exercise, and it required you to rest more than you expected. Joel suspected you were both deficient in some capacity since all you had eaten was canned and processed food for a month and exerting much more energy than normal. You were holed up in a small cabin outside of Pittsburgh, about 10 miles away from reaching the city. Joel had broken into the cabin late last night, and the two of you collapsed into bed once he confirmed the place was empty. He had planned to stay here for a couple days, wanting to make sure you were both as well rested as possible.

The next morning, Joel was looking around the small basement of the cabin, his flashlight bouncing off the dirty concrete walls while you went through the clothes left in the dressers upstairs, determining which ones were suitable to swap out. With winter fast approaching, you both needed to find clothes with longer sleeves and extra layers.

His flashlight scanned over a rusted metal shelving unit in the far corner. He walked over to inspect the items, finding mostly cleaning products, insect repellant, paint, and other chemicals. At the very bottom he found a hunting trap which he picked up to examine, pleasantly surprised to find it was still functional. He took it upstairs and placed it on the small kitchen table, then went to find you in the bedroom, where he heard you opening and shutting the dresser drawers.

The queen bed was covered in clothes, women's clothes on the right and men's on the left. On the floor you had tossed three well-worn hunting jackets, and on the other side of the room was a pile of discarded clothes that looked like they were meant for warmer months.

"Makin’ some progress up here?” he asked, bending down to take a closer look at the jackets and opening the pockets to see what was left behind. He triumphantly pulled out a few batteries and a lighter, shoving them in his jeans pocket. He picked the jacket up and shook the dust off before trying it on.

"Yeah, we got some good options. I think the guy's clothes will fit you, her clothes will be a little baggy on me but that's fine, I can do layers," you said over your shoulder as you scooped up loose socks from the top drawer and tossed them on the bed, getting to work matching and rolling them up. "Did you find anything useful?"

Joel put the jacket back on the floor and picked up a second one, trying that one on before settling on the third, which was a little big on him, but the thick leather kept him well insulated. "Yeah, actually, I found a hunting trap. I'm gonna go out a little ways and see if we can catch somethin', I think we need more protein, we've been needin' to take too many breaks lately."

"You want me to come with you?" you stood up after matching up the last pair of socks.

"Nah, I won't be long, you keep workin' on this stuff here." Joel grabbed his rifle and the trap, closing the front door behind him and setting out into the woods.

The cabin was surrounded by a thick forest but there were a few trails that must have been forged by deer given how tall the grass and narrow the paths were. Joel walked carefully into the trees, staying alert for any threats. Out this far into the wilderness, infected weren't the problem. The pair of you hadn't come across any more people since that night in his apartment a month ago but he made sure you stayed off the roads as much as possible. You weren't as quiet or withdrawn anymore, but he noticed you were becoming hardened by the world you were forced to live in. He had seen the slow progression as you both learned how to take down infected as efficiently as possible. He remembered when you first had to do it: you were so scared he could see the switchblade shaking in your hand as you snuck up behind a dormant runner. As the weeks went on and you practiced more, you became more comfortable taking them down, but he also saw the hardness growing in your eyes. He knew it was just a product of your environment and it was essential in order to survive, but some nights when he was unable to sleep, he laid awake and imagined a world where he could be a shield for you, taking all damage, and you could be your warm and sweet self again, safe under his protection.

Being out in the wild without the comfort of an apartment helped quell his feelings for you a little. He was less distracted when he had to always be on high alert, forcing his thoughts off you and onto survival. But whenever you stayed in a safe spot for a few days, like this cabin, he eventually found his thoughts wandering back to how soft your lips were against his that night, the curve of your hips in your dress, or the way you moaned into his mouth. The forced proximity and the illusion of safety usually meant his body ended up finding yours in the middle of the night and pulled you close to him. You never mentioned it, and neither did he, but he knew it was a byproduct of trying to stamp out his feelings for you. It was almost like his mind was saying one thing, but his body was refusing to obey. So, whenever he woke and found himself tangled in you once again, he didn’t allow himself to savor the moment and quickly removed himself from you before his heart swelled and he would be lost in you all over again.

It was about a ten minute walk from the cabin before Joel found a good spot to place the trap. It was near a big bush that looked to be home to some kind of animal based on the prints in the dirt. He took a pink scarf out of his pocket and ripped a piece off, tying it to the tree branch above the trap. As he followed his footsteps back, every minute or so he tore another piece off and tied it to a branch until he reached the cabin. He pushed the door open and set the rifle down by the door. He heard you singing softly to yourself in the bedroom, completely unaware he had entered the cabin. The first instinct he had was to chastise you for not being more aware of your surroundings, but the part of him that was desperate to protect you ultimately won, and instead he stood in the kitchen to listen.

You left the bedroom with an armful of rags you had made from the summer clothes in the corner, lyrics softly leaving your lips when you saw Joel standing there and yelped out of fright.

“Jesus, Joel, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed before taking your pile of rags to the couch and setting them down. “How long were you standing there?”

“Just walked in a minute ago,” he replied, giving you a small smirk. “Found a good spot for the trap, I’ll check it before sundown. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He shrugged the hunting jacket off and draped it over a chair.

You nodded and headed over to the cupboard to see what the previous residents left behind.

“Are you hungry? We have some soup here, and some canned stew. What do you want?” You turned to face him with your hand on your hip, but his gaze seemed unfocused and his thoughts far away at your question. Moments like this felt so domestic and it made him ache. What did he want? He wanted everything you had to offer. He wanted to turn back time and take back what he said to you, before he ruined everything. He wanted domestic bliss where you made him dinner and he had you for dessert. He didn’t want to be fighting for your lives while you ate expired Dinty Moore.

His gaze refocused on you and replied, “I’ll take the soup.” He reached into his jeans pocket and found the lighter from earlier and got to work setting up a small fire outside while you rummaged around for pots to heat up the canned delicacies that awaited you.

Joel had just left to check the trap before it got too dark, and you were left scrubbing the pots in the sink until your fingers felt raw. You dreaded any time he left. You hated being away from him, and not because you were scared, it was something more. You figured it out when one morning about a week ago you woke up wrapped in his arms again, for maybe the third time, but that morning was when you realized you only truly slept well when he sought you out in the middle of the night to pull you close and breathe you in. You were always disappointed when he woke up and pulled away from you so fast, leaving you feeling ashamed for being the only one who wanted it to continue. You had to constantly remind yourself it meant nothing, that Joel only had wanted one thing from you by replaying how mad he got for not sleeping with him that night. He never apologized for it, and you know you shouldn’t care anymore, but sometimes when you let your thoughts wander, it bothered you.

You put the pots back in the cupboard and raked your fingers through your hair aggressively, looking out the window to see if you could spot him. You hadn’t had any moments between you like that day in the subway when you saw the heat behind his gaze as you ran your hand up his arm. You convinced yourself afterwards that you had misread the situation, that the look in his eyes was not one of passion, but one of disapproval, and the embarrassment for the way you behaved sat with you for the next week. Eventually, the embarrassment faded when your focus was redirected to surviving in the wild and learning how to take down infected. You were both becoming pretty good at it, so long as you had the upper hand and noticed them first. Only twice did Joel have to use a gun to take one down, so your ammo reserve was still well stocked. But there was something feral that triggered inside you when you watched him kill: the little curl his upper lip made when he made contact, the fire in his eyes when the adrenaline kicked in, the way the muscles in his arms moved from the force of piercing a knife through their skulls. There had to be something wrong with you, nobody should find something like that attractive.

You heard his boots walking up the small porch, but you put your hand on your gun, just in case you were wrong. He opened the door, smiling proudly and holding up a dead rabbit to show you, and set the rifle back down in the corner by the door.

“I’ll go skin it, get it prepped for later. We can finally have a real meal for dinner.” Joel said, still holding the rabbit in his hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile faltering a bit when he noticed your expression seemed a little distant. You shook your head and smiled.

“Nothing, I’m fine, just distracted today,” you assured him, then turned around to find a small bag of rice you had seen next to the soup earlier. “I’ll make this to eat with dinner.” You plopped it down on the counter and went back to the bedroom to review the clothes you had set aside. Joel’s eyes followed you until you disappeared around the corner. He could tell something was wrong, but he knew better than to push it.

Joel was right about needing more protein and rest. You both felt recharged after just two nights but allowed yourselves the luxury of one more night indoors before heading off towards Pittsburgh. The morning you planned to leave was when Joel had let his guard down and you awoke entwined with him again. It was early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. You knew the longer you let him do this, the more hurt you would ultimately inflict upon yourself, but as hard as you tried you just could not bring yourself to be the one to end the embrace. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself back to sleep.

Joel stirred when the sun shone into his eyes through the thin curtains, squinting and yawning. As usual, he detached himself from you quickly, frustrated with his subconscious once again. After using the bathroom, he went outside to start a fire. The air was crisp and there was a sharp autumn wind that took his breath away. He huddled in his new jacket and shifted from foot to foot as he waited for the fire to flare up. He looked up into the sky, trying to detect if any rain would be heading your way, but the forest blocked most of his view. He heard the cabin door swing shut and twisted around to watch you walk down the steps wrapped in one of the other hunting jackets and carrying a kettle in one hand and the jar of instant coffee in another. He reached out to take the items from you so you could go back inside and grab two mugs and a spoon. He sat down on one of the thick logs used for stools that were surrounding the firepit and waited for the water to boil. You came back out with the mugs but also had a couple bowls and packets of instant oatmeal.

“’Morning,” you greeted groggily, setting the items down on one of the empty logs and choosing a spot next to him. You yawned, looking around the forest and buried your face in your coat when the wind picked up.

“Sleep ok?” Joel asked you, knowing full well he was setting you up to ask about the way he woke up clutching you, but much to his relief, it seemed as though that topic was never brought up.

You nodded, saying, “Yeah, better than usual.” And left it at that.

Neither of you were morning people and generally didn’t speak much until coffee hit your system. You had been lucky so far and found reserves of it at most of the places you stopped, but you had to dip into the stash from your apartment when you made camp in the forest. You sipped your coffee and ate your oatmeal in silence.

“Next time we find a sporting goods store, we oughta look for a bow and arrow, somethin’ silent,” Joel mused as he scraped his bowl. “We should learn to hunt out here. With winter comin’, it would be a good skill to have.”

You agreed, grabbing both bowls and the kettle while he picked up the mugs and snuffed out the fire. It was probably pointless, but you cleaned your dishes and put them back. It was unlikely the owners of this cabin would find it again, but it just felt wrong to leave things messy. This cabin provided for you both when you needed it and keeping it clean and in its original condition felt like the best way to thank it.

After breakfast, you packed up all your new clothes and replenished any food and rags you could fit in your packs and headed back out on the trail towards Pittsburgh. The forest was thick and lush, and offered a lot of cover, so you were able to make decent time getting to the city, arriving in the early afternoon. You approached a cliffside, stopping there to eat lunch and rest for the first time since you left the cabin. Joel didn’t want to start a fire and attract attention, so you ate some granola bars, peanuts and shared a can of peaches while you surveyed the city in the distance.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked him, taking a sip from your canteen.

“Well,” he began, shoving the wrappers from the granola bars into his backpack, “I figure we should steer clear of the city proper best we can, especially the QZ. They won’t ask questions; they’ll just shoot on sight if they see anyone.”

You looked up at the sun in the sky, trying to determine the time. “We will have to find somewhere in the city that’s quiet, we won’t make it through before sundown.” You told him, looking back from the sky to meet his gaze. He nodded, impressed.

“Yep, you’re exactly right. Good girl.” he said, the compliment making you flush. “If we stick to the outskirts, maybe we can find a small shop or somethin’. But we’re gonna have to take turns takin’ watch, I don’t trust bein’ this close to soldiers.” he warned you, and you nodded in understanding. After you had spent a few minutes resting, Joel stood up, checking his revolver and tucking it back into his pants and zipping his backpack closed. You followed suit, shoving a rag back into your pack that you used to wipe some sweat off your forehead, and you both soldiered on towards the city.

It was approaching dusk as you and Joel finished clearing out a gas station in a quiet part of the city. There were only three runners inside, and you made quick work of taking them down silently. You helped Joel drag the last body into the men's bathroom, closing the door behind you. Joel wasn't thrilled with the building: it was filled with huge broken windows and left you too exposed for his liking, but the sun was waning, and your choices were limited. There was a small office tucked in the corner that you had emptied of the rolling desk chair and a few boxes of receipts so you could spread out your sleeping bag on the floor. Joel insisted on taking first watch, and you propped the door to the office open with one of the boxes so you could hear if there was any trouble before tucking yourself in.

Joel sat on the rolling chair by the front door, hiding in the darkness behind an aisle, every so often standing in a crouch to glance out the large windows for any movement. He was getting tired, but he still had a couple more hours left on his watch before he woke you. In an effort to keep him awake, he wandered over to the small electronics section behind the cash register, perusing the items on the shelves. His gaze settled on a Timex analog watch. He pried open the package and attached it to his wrist, adjusting the time to match the clock on the wall, assuming it was correct before sitting back down in the chair.

You had about 20 minutes left before he planned to wake you up. Joel was just finishing some beef jerky when he saw flashlights bouncing off a building about a block away. He straightened up in his chair, tossing the bag of jerky to the side, and hoisted the rifle onto his shoulder so he could see through his scope. He watched behind the aisle as a group of four men walked down the street in the direction of the gas station. He could see they were armed, noting knives in their boots, pistols holstered at their hips and two of them held military grade assault rifles. As they came into view, Joel scanned their clothes for any type of military insignia but found none. How did they get those assault rifles?

They were getting closer, but Joel still couldn’t tell if they were planning on entering the gas station or if they were just passing through. His hands began to sweat as he gripped his rifle tighter, his body tense and ready to strike. They were about 50 yards away when one of the men laughed at something one of the others said. The rest immediately shushed him, but it was too late. They froze as an unfamiliar noise echoed through the air from a dumpster they had passed half a block ago. Joel frowned, unable to identify the noise, but based on the reactions of the men, they knew. They whipped around, their backs now to the gas station, all four aiming their guns in the direction of the noise. It sounded like a high-pitched screech mixed with a gasp, then a distinct click, click, click. He heard one of the men swear under his breath, his voice sounding shaky as he shifted his weight back and forth nervously. The one next to him tried to get him to be quiet, but his nerves got the best of him, and a shot rang out, making Joel jump in surprise. In his peripheral, he saw you fly out of your sleeping bag, scrambling for your gun. He crouched as low as he could without sacrificing speed, and made his way over to the office, wrapping his hand over your mouth as you twisted around about to shout out to him. He put a finger against his lips, and only when you hastily nodded did he slowly remove his hand, turning back around to hide behind the front counter with you peeking over his shoulder, watching the scene unfold.

Two infected came ambling towards the group. At first, they stumbled and were slow, but when one of them shifted his weight and slid on some loose asphalt, they both let out a horrific scream unlike anything you had heard before and charged towards the group. Neither of you could understand the creatures you were seeing: they had a fungus growing all over their bodies but primarily on their heads, a mouth was the only facial feature you recognized since the fungus had completely grown over the rest of their faces. Blood had stained their throats and chests, their clothes were ripped and barely hung on, and underneath their skin looked wrinkly, but upon closer inspection, it appeared to be more layers of fungus.

The assault rifles were spitting bullets and bouncing off the clickers, as if the fungus acted like some type of armor. One of the clickers jumped on the man who had slipped, viciously ripping into his throat while its fingers dug animalistically into his chest and blood pooled in the street below him. Another man saw his opportunity and pressed his pistol to the back of the clicker’s head, firing and watching its body drop to the pavement. Then without hesitation, he aimed his gun at his friend’s head and fired, his body jerked once and stilled. In the meantime, the second clicker had made short work of the other two men, one already ripped apart on the ground while it continued its assault on the other. The man did the same thing: walked up and shot the clicker in the back of the head, and for good measure shot the other two men on the ground. He was now the last man standing, panting for breath as he bent over to rest his hands on his knees. That was when he noticed the blood seeping through his jeans and trickling down to his sneakers.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, sitting down in the road to lift the pant leg. Joel could see the telltale imprint of teeth and blood when the man aimed his flashlight at his leg. He dropped the pant leg back down and hung his head between his knees. Joel tightened his grip on his rifle, expecting the man to come to the gas station in need of first aid, but before he could blink, the man lifted his pistol up to the side of his head and fired, dropping lifelessly to the side and joining the pile of dead bodies in the road.

Joel twisted around to try to shield your eyes, but it was too late. You let out a shaky breath, one tear sliding down your cheek as you looked up at him, his face full of concern. His eyes traveled down and reached his hand out to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping the tear away. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you had to resist the urge to lean into his touch.

"You alright?" he whispered to you in the dark. You nodded, breaking the contact and standing up.

The whole attack took less than five minutes. Joel approached the broken window and leaned out, listening intently to see if the noise had attracted any more infected or people. You waited as Joel went to each window multiple times to confirm nothing else was around. Satisfied, he turned back to you, your eyes wide and still gripping your gun at your side.

"I don't think anyone else is around," he said, placing the rifle next to the office chair. You nodded, tucking your gun in the back of your jeans.

"What the fuck was that?" you asked, staring at the bodies. "So these things are evolving now?"

"Seems that way," Joel answered, leaning tiredly up against the wall. He fought to keep his eyes open, but you could see he was exhausted.

"Go get some rest, I got this," you told him, "I'll wake you if I hear or see anything at all, I promise."

Joel wanted to resist and tell you he wasn't tired, but a yawn pushed through and gave him away. "You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. You need your rest, and we have to get out of this city tomorrow." You waved him off towards the office and went to sit in the chair after you grabbed his rifle, using the scope to get a better look at your surroundings.

Joel didn't bother rolling out his own sleeping bag, he just tucked himself into the one you were using, your scent enveloping him as he drifted off.

The sun rose about an hour ago. You waited as long as you could before deciding to wake Joel. He seemed so tired last night, you wanted him to get as much time as he could, but you knew you needed to leave. Once you got back into the forest, you could rest again. You went to the back office, carrying a to-go container of dry cereal in one hand, and found him snoring on his side with his back to the door. You popped a few pieces of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in your mouth and leaned down to gently shake his shoulder.

Joel whipped around at your touch and grabbed your wrist firmly, his eyes wild. You dropped your cereal in surprise.

"Joel! It's me," you yanked your arm, but he still held your wrist in his grasp and it was starting to hurt. "Joel!" you said again as loud as you dared. He finally realized and let you go, stumbling back a bit as you rubbed your wrist.

"Shit, sorry, must have been havin' a bad dream, you alright?" he asked worriedly, opening the sleeping bag and reaching forward to examine your wrist. He brushed his thumb tenderly over the red mark he left, the gesture making you melt and leaving you with a pang in your stomach.

"I'm fine, it's ok," you said, taking your wrist back and turning away from him, trying to create some space. "We should get going, eat something quick and I'll refill our packs with any supplies I can find."

"You sure you're ok?" he eyed you carefully. He hated how you shied away from his touch. You nodded, opening up another cereal from the shelf and continued to eat while you inventoried the food in your packs.

You shouldered your backpacks and guns after you ate, getting ready to head out. After stepping out onto the road, Joel frisked the dead bodies and picked up some more ammo for your handgun, along with two extra flashlights. He checked the assault rifles, too low on ammo for him to consider taking one, but he did remove two of the knives and sheathes strapped around their ankles, handing a set to you. The roads seemed quiet, so you took advantage and got a move on, silently threading your way through the city.

November 2003

Cleveland, OH

The weather was turning cold and rainy, even a couple nights leaving a dusting of snow that melted early the next morning. You trudged along behind Joel in the pouring rain, trying to stay hidden and dry by walking underneath a raised highway. It was risky, being close to the roads, but Joel didn't see much choice. The weather hasn't been cooperating for a couple days now, and your journey had significantly slowed down. He glanced at his watch, seeing it was around 4pm. It was getting darker earlier now, and the storm clouds just made it worse. He sighed, shaking the water droplets from his curls, and looked around. You were near an exit ramp. He saw it led to a suburban area maybe two miles away, clusters of smaller one story homes that the builders made as close as possible to one another in order to sell more houses.

"C'mon, this way," he said over his shoulder, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the direction he was leading you and quietly celebrated to yourself. You were tired and soaked, you didn't want to set up camp outside again and the possibility of sleeping on a mattress gave you a second wind.

The two of you hid in some thick decorative bushes looking down a road called York St. All the houses looked very similar and close together, the biggest differences being the color the owners had chosen for the siding. Joel had kept watch for about an hour in this position, waiting until it got dark so he could see if any of the houses had flashlights or lanterns inside. You were squatting next to him, trying to control your shivering but the rain was pouring down hard, and your clothes were dripping wet, even under your jacket. Your teeth chattered as you inadvertently leaned against him for some warmth. Focused intensely on the homes in front of him, Joel's body tensed at the unexpected contact. He glanced down at you and saw your soaking wet hair and your lips a darker shade than normal.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get into this one right over here, follow me.” he said, helping you stand into a crouch as you jogged over to the yellow house on the corner. Joel peered inside the windows for a minute while you stood watch with your arms crossed, keeping an eye out for any light or movement on the street or houses. You heard a snap behind you, and you turned to see Joel had used his large hunting knife to break the doorknob. You sighed with relief as you followed him inside, shutting the door behind you.

You swung your flashlights around the room, Joel rushing to the windows and closing all the curtains as you inspected the house. It was small: a living room, kitchen, one bathroom and two bedrooms. Joel went down into the basement to make sure it was clear while you emptied essentials from your pack in one of the bedrooms. You pulled out a somewhat dry set of clothes and tucked them under your arm, heading towards the bathroom. You took your jacket off to hang up on the shower rod to airdry and got to work peeling the soaking wet clothes from your body. You figured you could just toss the shirts you were wearing and pick up new ones here, but you really liked the jeans you had so you did your best to lay them out to dry in the tub.

After you put some dry clothes on, you started to feel a little better, but you still couldn’t shake the shiver in your bones. Joel mirrored your actions after he came up from the basement, changing into fresh clothes and hanging up the wet ones to dry, making sure to take the keychain out of his pants pocket and transferred it to his new ones, and then met you in the kitchen where you were rifling through the cupboards to see if there was anything worth eating. You pulled out a bag of trail mix, some canned tuna, and a few cans of mixed fruit, setting them on the small table while Joel rooted around for some forks.

You were hungrier than you realized and ate quickly, all the miles you walked today catching up with you.  Joel finally broke the silence after he finished a can of fruit.

“Which room did you want to sleep in?” he asked. This was the first time you stayed indoors where there were two sizeable beds. He wanted to give you the option, give you your space. You kept your gaze trained down at the bag of trail mix in front of you, considering his words. You knew he was giving you a choice, and it was completely up to you now on what the sleeping arrangements would be.

“I liked the room I put our backpacks in, why don’t we stay in that one.” you replied, still not looking up. We. Joel’s pulse sped up and he tried to hide his grin. You made the choice to stay the night with him, you wanted to be with him. It was probably just a habit for you, or maybe you were afraid to be on your own, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be apart from you, either, regardless if his reason differed from yours. 

That night, he heard you softly snoring, laying on your side with your back to him like usual. This time he deliberately turned over and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. He breathed in your scent and nestled his face at the back of your neck as you let out a contented sigh, and small smile played across his lips as he closed his eyes.

Chapter Eleven

Taglist: @chiogarza.

[mdhwrites]

My Frustration With Belos

As a presence, Belos is fantastic. He actually has probably some of the best animation in the series and arguably the best voice actor in the entire cast. He sells every line Belos has with a gravity and menace that the emperor might otherwise not have. He sells his anger but also his control and even after I stopped liking the show, I found my attention demanded when he desired it.

Unfortunately, as a character he absolutely fucking sucks and is almost impossible to take seriously.

He only functions as Belos. Not even Emperor Belos because once you bring in that title, you have to tilt your head and ask "Well, what is he as an emperor? How does he use his minions to enact his will? What is his will?" In that order:

He is a kind, stately emperor who only asks for one rule to be obeyed. Even if you stayed out of the fold, if you come to him willingly seeking forgiveness, you will be granted it and absolved of your crimes, like with the wild witch friend in Hollow Mind. He revolutionized the Isles, turning them from seeming small towns to a now interconnected nation (his rise to power is literally impossible with news being able to spread so people can fact check him) and brought safety and regulation to a land that has none (Terra acts like the Safety codes in Them's the Breaks are new or something so beneath a proper witch as to be able to be entirely ignored and no one cares.) No one faces persecution except those who flaunt breaking his one rule but you may be of any race, skin color, belief, etc. and he doesn't care. You are all equal in his eyes.

He uses his minions weakly. They are bumbling fools who are honestly better at party planning than they are at combat (look at... Literally any fight with the EC scouts frankly. The literal only wins they get is raiding an empty, unguarded house and attacking two exhausted, distracted witches who are out of power.) They are seemingly not punished for this though except supposedly at the higher ranks. Even then, they are merely demoted. Those who wish to leave also show no fear in doing so, as proven by the EC scout who says fuck this and goes off to join the cute cat coven. This displays a lack of interest in power or enforcement.

His will appears to be to bring order to a land of chaos. To bring structure and unity to a land that didn't have it. He will go to any length, including manipulation, lying and threats in order to obtain this. He keeps mystique about him, seeming to believe that being feared is stronger than being loved, fitting with his claims that the Titan speaks to him and wishes for a rather extreme societal change. One he will see to no matter what.

These are... Actually interesting. You know, until you remember his actual goal is the genocide of literally every living being on the Isles. Then they come across as incredibly stupid, inept and backwards for what ANY of his goals should be and that's without getting into how his plan explicitly left out the entire child population of the Isles. This means he didn't even actually want to get the job done properly before he fucked off.

That is befitting Philip and Belos though as actual manipulators. They both are on easy street as far as it goes. The one manipulation we see from Philip is by using two people who clearly want something from him and are interested in helping him so so long as he doesn't literally start throwing fists, he's fine. Belos meanwhile leverages Eda's curse against Lilith, an entire fake backstory against Hunter, and just being Kikimora's boss to get what he wants. Anyone not in the EC though he never manages once to actually convince of anything and he is pretty bad at actually keeping up his deceptions.

This is of course made worse by knowing that 400 years ago, that commanding presence that is Belos... Was actually just a whiny British bloke who couldn't even wait until after his victims were dead to gloat about it. I tooooootally still fear him, especially as S3 commits narrative contrivance after narrative contrivance to A: let him be ALIVE and B: to let him win, CONSTANTLY, without also murdering the main characters. Like he literally tells a group of witches and a monster "I'm saving your souls," while he has them all at his mercy, having already shown he was more than capable of beating them all... And leaves. Because he is REALLY bad at his goal.

And honestly, him being so bluntly tied to a movement, time period and ethnicity that all bluntly say he's Christian without saying he's Christian... Actually just kind of makes him worse. Knowing his beliefs makes his behavior BAFFLING. He has none of the actual zeal and fury of a crusader, who were so bloodthirsty as to have peasants march on their own as they screamed Deus Vult, nor does he have the actual politics and methodologies of colonizers. The closest he is is a missionary and that's not even the case because he's not interested in conversion, only genocide. He is just an asshole who has the label "Christian.

It says nothing. Most of his character says nothing. They slam you over the head saying he should be saying something, that his backstory should be deep and that he had grand plans but if you interrogate these claims, no he doesn't. He says nothing except "Christianity bad" and essentially condemns the ENTIRE RELIGION because of how little nuance there is to him, his backstory makes him look pathetic, whiny and potentially sympathetic which makes no sense with the rest of his character, and his grand plan was literally DESIGNED to fail because he never gave it any real thought or else he would have baptized witches into being in covens so they had the sigils from birth and he'd get ALL OF THEM.

He is perhaps the personification of what is wrong with TOH in this way. If you look at any one scene, it seems to promise so much. The animation is correct. The voice acting is correct. You can see what themes he's supposed to be talking about and can make a Twitter post very easily about it. But... These are all surface level and only function as moments.

As a whole story, as a whole character, it falls to tatters as you see there was nothing there except conflicting promises and basic fantasy tropes.

======+++++======

I'm trying to not blog about TOH as much anymore because I'm just kind of tired of it but Belos has always been a thorn in my side because there are so many scenes that are so effective with him but when I think of him as a whole, I have nothing but boredom and annoyance. So I wanted to properly explore that and highlight how little sense his character makes and why just consuming him like popcorn is functional, even good, but if you try to have him for dinner, you'll find only bones.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[rose-tinting]

the amount of misinformation that has been circling outside of neopets circles I swear

I see a new rumor every time

“They’re free from nft bros” Nope. Owned by one!

“The original team rebought them” God fucking no and you should not want them to, Adam Powells little meltdown over neopets users criticizing his new crypto venture is reason enough lol.

“The company was sold to Neopets Internal Teams” They sold it to the guy who used to head the former NFT project and are promising this means TNT has more freedom “under new leadership“ with “no current plans for crypto/NFTs” (This is not a promise not to make them)

One of the “brand ambassadors” who is supposed to help TNT with the knowing and understanding the userbase is some celebrity who’s wife is also a celebrity who I’ve seen people CLAIM used to be a Neopets mod. Does that sound like a neopets user who can tell the neopets team what the average user wants? No call for users who aren’t celebrities to become brand ambassadors has been made afaik.

Current Neopets mods are silencing trans people for mentioning HRT as well as top surgery and ignoring cis people talking about pregnancy, death, and surgery. (Have seen these boards go on for several hours and never get deleted even after a heated debate on one one about abortion) 

There’s items and backstory on the site that are racist. Neopets users have asked these be addressed. Do you think this “brand ambassador” will address any of that? Why does the ambassador need to be a celebrity? Unless the actual intent is to have “ambassadors” who sell neopets as a brand to the potential new userbase and isn’t about “listening to the users” at all.

god can one person with a huge following please for once just reblog and acknowledge the TRUTH. (doesn’t have to be from me I’d just like the actual info to be spread!) Awareness will help us keep the worst from happening! Pretending everything is fine until it isn’t is NOT the way!

If you want the actual info on the site Neopets has a fansite dedicated to reporting Neopets news including everything TNT tries to sweep under the rug

https://www.jellyneo.net/?comments=14391

A direct quote from their article on this

“ New CEO of Neopets is Dominic Law, who previously headed the Neopets Metaverse and brokered a "management buyout deal" “

Please if you’re reading this

stop spreading misinformation

spread the real information

make your own post even

this could go either way right now

this is not a “neopets renaissance”

this is a crossroads and we don’t know where we’re going yet. It could be great, or it could be the end of the site.

(Editing my reblog in so it can hopefully get seen too, I was provided with more accurate info on the brand ambassador.)

@pirakeet Thanks! Was actually hoping someone COULD correct this :3 Cause I was REALLY HOPING it wasn’t what it seemed since all I could find was a twitter post with an attached video where he accepts it (I immediately fled twitter may be why)

[Image Text ID]  Posted by tumblr user pirakeet: I’m not correcting anything, but just letting you know the “brand  ambassador” program has been made available - just presumably not in  the ‘john legend’ sense:  https://portal.neopets.com/brand-ambassador-program  and for clarity, i’ve been popping off about the difference, this isn’t a  “gotcha moment”.   There’s more info when you click “apply” and it takes you to a google  doc [End Id]

As I said I’m more interested in the truth being spread so I hope this can be seen!

[softanddarkk]

Love lessons : Amanda Young (saw) Modern AU

When you’re jigsaws apprentice there is little time left over for a love life or dating, especially when you are as emotionally tourtured as Amanda - but sometimes a one night stand becomes a two night stand and so on & so on.

Amanda Young x fem reader

Warnings: sexual themes, talk of gore, mention of tinder (which is scary to some of us, but this is the only modern AU aspect, everything else is pretty canon)

Tinder is a cesspit of humanity, truely. Modern dating, as simple as it may be, is actually quite the task. You spend hours scrolling through unsuitable or outright unattractive suitors, accieneltly swiping the rare good prospect because you have such a swipe left muscle memory. When you do successfully match with someone who is at best your type, often just bareable - it’s a 50/50 if they match with you. And then if it IS a match, it’s a rush to form a date or be forgotten forever.

Amanda doesnt have the luxury of spare time. Working for John isn’t exactly shift work; she works on a task that he gives her until it is finished to his standard - which is impeccably high.

And that’s never been an issue for Amanda; before John she had nothing but an absent family and a drug problem. John didn’t just give her purpose, he gave her a reason to live.

Amanda often felt her only reason to be on this earth was to help further Johns work; but a girl has needs all the same.

Amanda first downloaded tinder when she had too much alcohol after a particularly nasty day in the meat factory. Since being “sober”, Amanda only drank when she knew she wouldn’t be under the watchful, perceptive eye of John. So after one long, partially bloody day she decided what better to do with her time but too look at what the city had to offer.

Amanda found that not only was it incredibly easy for her to find a match, but it boosted her ego to meet up with these people who wanted her enough to take her home and have sex with her without her even so much as giving them a crumb of information about herself.

That was fine by Amanda; why fill anyone in on the terrible backstory when she could get her leg over and move on.

It wasn’t complicated, it wasn’t tiresome, and most importantly - it didn’t distract from her work.

She humoured all genders; after all, Amanda didn’t exactly stick around to worry about how well she connected with these people. A few tried to stay in contact but Amanda made it brutally clear that she wanted one thing and one thing only, once that was over and she was travelling back to her flat alone she would not have to think about that person again. Not ever.

Until, you.

It was a typical Saturday night, after a long week of crafting and plotting, Amanda needed a physical outlet. She had been talking with this one girl on tinder for a few days and arranged to meet tonight to let off some steam. The girl had picked a partially seedy bar in the sketchy side of town; which told Amanda all she needed to know about this girls intentions.

However, as she checked the grubby clock hung behind the bar, the sure set plan of booze induced sex with a stranger seemed to be derailing slowly. Her match was now half an hour late, which wasn’t a concerning amount of time, but Amanda was impatient.

Swilling her spirit around the glass, she surveyed the room for her date. A group of trucker looking men sneered over a group of girls in a booth, pretending to play pool instead of preforming borderline harassment. One of the girls was catching back to the men, and Amanda looked away as she stood up, making her way to the bar with one of the older men in tow.

The bar tender took her order, Amanda didn’t care to listen, checking her phone for what could be upwards of the twentieth time since noticing her date was late.

“And he will get whatever she’s having too”

Amanda looked up, three sets of eyes on her. The girl had snaked an arm over her shoulder, which would normally be a move Amanda would have met with a stern glare and a hard shrug, but this girls perfume was filling her nostrils and, blaming her distinct level of horniness and lack of company, Amanda wasn’t exactly opposed to the physical touch.

“That’s okay isn’t it, you’ll buy my friend a drink too”

Amanda looked blankly at the older man, his expression mirroring hers. However he twigged on before Amanda, his brain in his pants helping the one in his head get up too speed.

“Sure sweet cheeks, anything for a pretty girl like you”

Amanda internally curled up and died at the level of disgusting this man radiated. She may have thrown a dig, a snap comment that would disarm his confidence; but the mystery girls arm was still around her shoulders and its warmth was radiating through her leather jacket. The girl twirled Amanda’s hair absently with her outstretched hand, such a foreign feeling to Amanda, but one she found herself enjoying one the less.

“Go on then”

Amanda was sprung back into the moment when the girl turned to her, tugging her hair in the process. Her eyes were framed by a thick lash, her makeup slightly worn to show her blushed cheeks underneath. Amanda murmured her order, never taking her eyes off the face staring back at her.

The bar tender made the drinks up and the trucker paid, looking to the mystery girl expectantly.

“Come on then, sweet thing”

The girl turned back round to face him, not before rolling her eyes for Amanda to see.

“Thanks for the drinks, I’ll be over for that game of pool in a second”

The man looked dejectedly at the pair and then scuffled off, most likely realising he had just been used for his wallet.

“Sorry about that, I didnt want to get stuck with him alone” Amanda felt disappointed as the girl removed her arm from her.

The girl flipped her hair, thanking the bar man for her drink and giving Amanda one last smile before turning to leave.

“I’m Amanda by the way”

The words had left her mouth before her brain had chance to catch up.

And when Amanda thinks back now, that’s when it started. She still wasn’t sure what “it” was, but it was something different.

Just like everyone else she’d been out with, she drank with you, but she was actually listening to what you had to say, not just pretending to get you to come home with her. She was interested in you, she wanted to know more.

Something was different, and it made Amanda feel physically sick. Normally when someone touched her she felt nothing, if not a little threatened, but when you touched her she felt nervous. Those butterflies that she hadn’t felt since she was a young teen, before her life went to shit, came back from the dead. And every time you looked up at her from under your lashes, or laughed at her jokes, or touched her leg, they fluttered round her stomach.

She should have left then and there, fled that bar and never looked back. In her head she excused herself, went too the bathroom and climbed out a window for gods sake. If that’s what it took.

But she came home with you, and she felt like that taxi drive was the equivalent to picking a plot, digging and then jumping into her own grave.

Because sex with you wasn’t like how sex was with everyone else. And there had been many, men, women, all those inbetween. Some had been poor, some had been mediocre and some had been pretty good. Amanda had came, sometimes multiple times if she was lucky.

But it was never like this.

Touching you was enough for her to be soaking. She felt your pleasure with her own; and god did she try to give you pleasure. Amanda had never cared if she made the person she had sex with feel good, call it selfish if you want, but she knew she would never see them again and could not bring herself to care enough about what they would remember of her.

But with you, she wanted you to come so many times that her name would be forever branded on your soul.

And maybe yours would be on hers, but that was just too vile for her to comprehend.

Amanda didn’t like people. She didn’t care for their opinions, thoughts or feelings. But with you, she wanted you to see only her good. She felt tense when your hands brushed over her scars on her thighs, she was embarrassed, she didn’t want you knowing she had to do that too deal with her pain. Some of the scars were relatively fresh, which made her feel even more sick about it. What must you think?

When you took the time to kiss your way over those scars, Amanda thought she might pass away there and then. From shock and maybe something else.

Sex had never been tender for Amanda, it was a rough battle of wills, and one that she quite enjoyed. She had never been touched how you touched her. And sore she probably never would be again.

So in the morning,she left before you woke. She couldn’t face seeing you in daylight, not after what you shared

She left to never see you again, never hear your name, never feel those feelings again.

But it was a lie, because before she left she couldn’t resist leaving her number on a note on your bedside table.

And as she scurried back to her day to day, her rat race of trap making and information gathering, she put you too the back of her mind.

It was easy to focus when she had her hands busy, she only thought of you when she saw the colour of your eyes in her tools.

Or when she felt the wind tug her hair how your hands had.

Or when she got on the bus and smelt your perfume on another passenger.

But it didn’t matter, you were a fabrication of her mind - nothing but a fantasy.

She moved on, kept herself focused how she knew best.

She went on more dates, slept with other people. Nobody like you, but sometimes when they touched her she closed her eyes and pretended it was you. Sometimes she would taste their lips and be disappointed they weren’t yours.

And when she lay in bed alone, when her little flat was still and the world felt like it was slumbering outside her window, she would always think of you.

Until, her phone vibrated under her pillow. And she moved embarrassingly fast to see that screen lit up with a unsaved number, Amanda was smiling before she knew how to stop herself.

Because as much as she knew you would be the death of her, she simply wouldn’t want to die at the hands of any other.

[siennafrxst]

↳ fate 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: barney stinson x female reader

universe: how I met your mother (HIMYM)

word count: 1.1k words

cw: cringe 😍

click here to read the sequel.

As Barney swirls the whiskey in his glass, he scans the room to hunt for his next unsuspecting prey. In other words, the next woman he was gonna gaslight into having sex with. (💀)

Then, his eyes land on someone across the bar, sitting all alone by herself. Intrigued, he slowly approaches her while coming up with another one of his inane backstories to entice his victim as per usual.

But then, to his surprise, she turns to face him. “Hey, you need to try this.”

Slightly taken aback, Barney stares blankly at the drink in her hands, not expecting her to be the one to initiate conversation. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

She lightheartedly frowns at his response. “No, I just want you to take a little sip. And no, I promise I didn’t drug it either. Here.” She takes a sip from her glass as proof, as though reading his inner thoughts.

Convinced yet still slightly bewildered, he shrugs. “Alright, fine; gimme.”

She hands him over the drink as he sets his down before promptly taking a sip, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar taste.

“Woah, that’s-“

“I know, right?”

He smiles softly at the grin on her face, seeming to lighten up his mood. “I’m Barney, by the way.” He reaches out a polite hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” She takes his hand in hers and shakes it.

“It’s my pleasure. So, what’s a pretty lady like you sitting all alone in a bar?“

“And if I told you that I was waiting for someone?”

Barney lets out a scoff. “Then you wouldn’t have been wearing that frown on your face earlier.”

Y/N shrugs, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. “Fair enough. You want the honest, boring answer?”

He nods. “Try me.”

“I’m here to blow off some steam. I’ve been trying to find a job for weeks now. Can’t even nail a decent interview.” She chuckles softly, shaking her head to herself. “And what about you? Tall, blond guy in a brooding suit. What’s your reason?”

Barney sighs. “Do you want the honest, not-so-boring answer?”

“Try me.”

He slowly leans in closer, as though he was about to share an important secret. “I was sent as a spy from the future to warn about the upcoming rapture one thousand years from now. And the only way to save the world is-“

“Let me guess, to have sex with you?” she cuts him off, clearly not amused.

Barney blinks his eyes innocently, surprised at her sudden question. “What? Pssh, no,” he says, seemingly appalled. “Do you want to?”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the desperate man. “Okay, I see, so the reason why you’re here is to hit on dumb blondes and gaslight them into having sex with you by using one of your inane backstories?”

“And it seems as though you’re not one of them.”

They smile at each other, both cockily in a way that was playful yet enticing.

“I’m curious, though… does that actually work?”

“Oh hell yeah, and that’s not even one of the craziest ones I’ve used.”

Her eyes widen slightly, now intrigued. “Really?”

Barney nods. “I could tell you more, but we may have to be here for hours.”

Y/N turns around to check the clock on a nearby wall before promptly facing him once more. “I got some time to spare.”

Barney smiles, satisfied with her answer. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He sits on the chair beside hers as he proceeds to tell her more about his desperate ploys.

To them, their conversation had only lasted for a few minutes, but the next thing they knew, the bar was already closing and they had to be personally kicked out by the bar owner for overstaying their welcome.

The two decided to walk around the city late at night, lights flickering past as the moon shone high above, seeming to follow them in their journey.

“Wait, what time is it?”

Barney checks the watch on his wrist, suddenly putting a halt to his movements in surprise. “Woah. It’s almost 2AM.”

She stops to stand beside him, her eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we just spent like 4 hours talking to each other.”

“Huh.”

“Huh indeed.”

They both take a moment to stare at one another, the silence oddly comforting. When they were together, it was as if nobody else mattered. No one else was sharing the moments they had except for the two.

Y/N purses her lips before speaking up, finally breaking the silence. “Well then, I have to confess something before this night ends.”

He hums, signaling for her to continue.

“I don’t usually let some guy even go near me whenever I’m at a bar, sitting alone grumpily.”

He chuckles lightly.

“But… I actually enjoyed our little date that isn’t a date.”

He smiles, taking a subtle step closer towards her. “Well, I think every date that isn’t a date should end with a good night kiss.”

He leans in to connect their lips, but to his surprise, she leans away.

“Tell me, Barney, do you believe in fate?”

Barney — clearly disappointed — frowns at her sudden interruption. “No, not really.”

She simply smiles at his disgruntled expressions. “Well, I do, and if we’re meant to be, then we’ll see each other again.”

“So am I not getting my good night kiss or…?”

She chuckles at his little pout. “Look, if we ever cross paths again, then you can give it to me. No questions asked.”

“Why can’t I just give it to you now? I promise I’m a great kisser. I got like a hundred different girls who can attest to th-“

She puts a finger over his lips, shutting him up in an instant.

“Be patient. I promise, next time, I won’t make you wait one more second.”

“If there even will be a next time.”

Y/N frowns at him as she removes the finger on his lips, earning an eye roll from him.

“Fine, if you want to play hard to get, then so be it.”

She smiles. “Good.”

“At least let me walk you home. Where’d you say it was you lived again?”

She gives him a knowing look. “Haha, nice try,” she says in a sarcastic tone.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying. But seriously, you sure you’ll be okay? It’s pretty late, and New York is filled with all kinds of creeps.”

Y/N smiles at his worried expressions. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I don’t live that far from here.”

Barney’s eyes light up, pointing a finger at her. “Aha! So you do live somewhere in this area.”

“I could also be messing with you.”

He rolls his eyes at her once more as she giggles at him.

“Good night, Barney.”

He returns the smile on her face. “Good night, Y/N.”

this isn’t one of my best but I haven’t been posting in a while so… yeah. thanks for reading. x

click here to read the sequel.

likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.

[cowgurrrl]

Don't Blame Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: we interrupt your regularly scheduled rockstar!joel content for the LFTL prequel

Summary: September 26, 2003 [5.0k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, talks of food insecurity, outbreak day, canonical type violence, brief brief vague mention of threat from baby daddy, reader being a badass because I said so

“Jane Eloise, let’s go!” You yell through the apartment, struggling to hold your purse, coffee, Jane's backpack and lunchbox, and a file full of paperwork that came home with you last night. You can hear her shuffling things around in her room from where you're standing in the kitchen, already ten minutes late.

"I can't find my backpack!" She shouts.

"I have it! I just need you to get in the car!"

"Oh!" She chirps as she bounds into the kitchen, her light-up shoes sparkling with each step. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail adorned with bows to keep her hair out of her face throughout the school day, and she's wearing her favorite Fleetwood Mac shirt. You don't even want to know what you look like after rushing around, trying to get both of you ready for the day, but you feel less stressed knowing she doesn't look like she has a mom that doesn't brush her hair. You hand her the backpack and lunch box, fastening the straps over her little shoulders, and make a beeline for the door.

You wave to your neighbor, Ms. Watson, who barely spares you a glance which is strange considering how she almost always says good morning to you and Jane. Maybe she's just having a bad day. Jane buckles herself into her booster seat as you try to balance your coffee on top of your car but end up spilling it all down your arm and the side of your car. You curse under your breath as you shake coffee out of the papers you were holding and search your messy car for napkins or something to clean yourself.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Jane asks from the backseat, and you do your best to swallow down your stress and frustration to smile at her.

"Yeah, baby, I'm okay. I just spilled my coffee, but it's okay," you say as you give up and climb into the driver's seat. You put the key in the ignition and say a silent prayer for the engine to turn over and actually start. It only takes three tries, but it works. "Ready for school?"

Through the power of speeding and pure spite, Jane gets to school perfectly on time. She kisses you on the cheek as she rushes out of the car, her oversized backpack bouncing as she runs through the door where her teacher awaits her. You wave at Mr. Lowery, who shoots you a thumbs-up and a mouthed "Nice" for getting her to class on time. You laugh and flip him off before driving away. He's a good teacher and always nice to the parents if not a little bit of a flirt to you. You went on one date with him before the school year started and discovered he was Jane's teacher. Since then, neither of you have made any moves which is fine. You can barely explain to Jane why her dad isn't around. There’s no way you could explain why you're dating the first teacher she's ever had. It wouldn't be the best look.

You get to work fifteen minutes late. Again. Your boss shoots you a look you pointedly ignore as you drop the coffee-stained file in his hands and rush over to answer the phone on your desk. Thrillingly, you spend the day digitizing files, scheduling appointments for people who get paid way more than you do, and fielding requests. Something you learned very quickly when you got this job is that everyone who walks through the door wants to flirt with the young secretary to get what they want, but once you deny them and they see the pictures of Jane on your desk, they decide you're a bitch and give up.

However, people seem to be especially reactive today. They're jumpy as they wait by your desk and get pissed when you tell them no or that they have to wait. One guy even got in your face and had to be escorted out by security. You have to stay a whole hour after your shift ends to fill out an incident report and explain your side of the story to your boss, making you late to pick up Jane from her after-school program. The standstill traffic on the highway didn't help your case either. When you pull up to the school, Jane and her after school teacher are sitting on the curb, looking up at the orange sunset.

"Mommy!" Jane screeches as you park and get out of the car. You smile as you crouch down and open your arms to hug her.

"Hi, baby! How was your day?" You ask as you reach out to smooth her hair down. Her ponytail and bows did not last the whole day, and her hair is now frizzy and tangled. She must've had a fun day.

"Good! I got to play checkers with Mr. Lowery at lunch, and guess what?"

"What?"

"I beat him! Twice!" She exclaims, holding up two fingers, and you raise your eyebrows.

"No way! You must be a genius or something!"

"I know!" She says, making you laugh. The after-school teacher clears her throat from behind Jane, and you sigh as you glance between her and Jane.

"Why don't you get buckled in while I talk to Ms. Taylor, okay? Start thinking about what you want for dinner." You say. Jane is already halfway in the car before you can even finish your sentence, and you stand to your full height. Taylor has her arms crossed over her chest, and she looks pissed.

"You're late." She says like you're unaware or making her stay late on purpose.

"I know. I'm sorry. Something happened at work, and I had to stay late to get it sorted out, and traffic was horrible. I think there was an accident or something. The whole freeway was shut down." You say, but Taylor just stares at you.

"You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Keeping the after-school teachers late. If it keeps happening, we're gonna have to fine you." She says, and you feel yourself deflate. You look back to make sure Jane's car door is shut, and she can't hear you.

"You know I can't afford to pay a fine. Please, I'm…" you take a deep breath. "I'm doing my best."

"I know you are, but the message isn't coming from me. It's coming from my boss. I'm just letting you know so you can arrange for someone to pick her up on time if you can't."

"I don't have anyone else."

"What about your mom?"

"C'mon, man," you shake your head. "She's not speaking to me, and even if she were, I'm not letting her see Jane."

"There's nobody that can pick her up? What about a neighbor or a coworker or something?" She asks.

"Nobody that I trust enough."

"Look, I'm trying to help you, but you need to be able to help yourself too. I'll cover for you this time but don't let it happen again, okay?" She says, and you nod. You're annoyed that someone you went to high school with, who knew you when you were pregnant, is acting high and mighty because she doesn't have kids. You don't need someone to tell you to trust others. You need her to watch your fucking kid.

"Thanks. It won't happen again." You say as you turn on your heels and walk back to the driver's side door. You both know it absolutely will happen again, but it doesn't matter right now. Right now, you need to get Jane home, feed her dinner, and study after she goes to sleep. The MCATs are coming up, and you can't afford to take it more than once.

There are a lot of things you can't afford even though you work two jobs. You can't afford to get new work shoes even though your old ones are falling apart. You can't afford a new car, even if it's used. Hell, you can barely afford to pay rent these days, but you'll never let Jane know. Every day, she has food in her belly, clothes on her back, and a safe, warm bed to sleep in. It doesn't matter if you go hungry or have to secretly sew up the holes in your clothes. She's the only thing that matters.

Traffic is miserable trying to get back to the apartment, even on the back roads, but you finally manage to get home right as the sun is setting. Jane gets down and immediately looks up, searching for the moon like she does every night. You're pulling your bag over your shoulder when she gasps.

"Mommy, look!" Jane says as she points at the fighter jets soaring through the air with a loud boom. You look up just in time to watch them fly over your head, going somewhere quickly, and you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. You can't place it or understand exactly what you're feeling, but you still usher Jane inside and lock the door behind you.

You make her mac and cheese and hot dogs for dinner. It's easy, cheap, and she loves it, so it's a win for everyone. She tells you about her day as she eats, excitedly telling you playground tales and what sound an F makes. You smile as you listen and ask her questions, clinging to her every word. She's getting so big and smart that sometimes you just want to sit and listen to her talk for hours. After dinner, you run her a bath and read her two bedtime stories before kissing her forehead and tiptoeing to the living room.

You sit on the couch with some mind-numbing reality show playing in the background as you try to study. After the day you've had, the words blur together, and focusing takes more brain power than usual. You make coffee and eat whatever's left of Jane's mac and cheese as it brews. You're able to take notes on pharmacology and start on endocrinology when your TV show suddenly cuts out. On your screen, an emergency screen blares at you, urging you to seek shelter. Your heart jumps to your throat as you hear more jets flying over your apartment building.

You don't know why, but you rush to your closet and take the locked box from your top shelf down. You find the key and unlock it to find the small handgun, ammunition at the bottom, and a hunting knife your ex left in your car years ago. He probably meant it as a threat, but you kept it in case he ever tried to go through with anything. You load the gun and tuck the extra ammo and knife in your pocket before standing and walking to Jane's room. You hide the gun in your waistband as you enter her room and gently but firmly shake her awake.

"Mommy?" She asks as she blinks in the darkness of her room.

"It's okay. Everything's okay. I just need you to wake up and come into the living room with me." You tell her, already searching for a pair of shoes and socks for her.

"Why?"

"Something's going on. I don't know what yet, but it's safer for you to be with me than asleep, okay?" You say. She yawns but complies, letting you slip socks and shoes onto her feet before doing the same. As you walk to the living room, your gun heavy in your jacket, the floor shakes under your feet. More planes fly overhead, and now you can hear sirens and people yelling in the street. You keep Jane close to your body as you try to come up with a plan when someone furiously knocks on your door.

"Help! Please, open the door!" A voice begs from the other side. You push Jane behind you as you pull your gun and keep it low, the way you were taught. The person in the hallway is still banging on your door and screaming for help, but you don't move to open it. Suddenly, there's an inhuman screeching and cries. The knocking stops. The world goes silent. Jane whimpers behind you, and you quickly shush her.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," you say quietly. You can see the shadow of feet under your door as the knob jiggles. Jiggling turns to fully throwing their body against the wood, desperately attempting to get in, and Jane screams. Your heart pounds as her fear rattles in your ears, and you raise your gun at the door. "Cover your ears!" You order as the door breaks down, and you fire one shot at the mutilated body, trying to hurt you. Through the low light of your apartment, you can see the blood covering his face and the crazed look in his eyes as he goes down, twitching as he bleeds out on your living room floor.

Your ears ring, and you think you hear Jane say something about you killing him, but you can't focus. The only thing you know to do is pick her up and run. It's not safe to stay here. Your best bet would be to get to the back roads and drive until sunrise. Scarily, you hold Jane with one hand and your gun in the other, the juxtaposition enough to make your head spin. She tucks her head into your neck and cries as you leave your apartment to see the carnage left in the hallway. The guy begging for mercy is dead, his blood splattered across the beige walls of your building, and he's not the only one. There's blood and bodies everywhere. You put a hand on the back of Jane's head and push her face closer to you.

"Don't look at anything except Mommy, okay? You stay right there and close your eyes." You say, and she nods into your neck. Another rumbling shakes the building, and you run down the stairs, checking each floor for bodies or whatever the fuck tried to get into your apartment. Distantly, you can hear the same screeching but don't stop long enough to figure out where it's coming from.

When you get outside, there’s smoke and fire everywhere. People are screaming as jets fly overhead. That's the first time you see a bomb being dropped from a military plane on U.S. soil. You freeze as you watch the explosive fall, fall, fall until it hits the ground in a cloud of fire, ash, and blood. They're going to kill you all, and the only thing you have to protect yourself is a handgun and hunting knife. Fear seizes you, and you feel like you could be sick. You think you would've if Jane didn't scream at something behind you.

You're tackled to the ground before you can turn and shoot, and Jane falls out of your arms. Your skin scrapes against the pavement as you fight under the screaming person with no life behind their eyes. They're covered in blood and brain matter, a sight that churns your stomach, and they are clawing at you for leverage. You kick at them as you struggle to reach for your hunting knife, the skin of your palm cutting open on the glass under your body. Jane is crying and calling for you, but her voice gets louder and scarier as she sees something you don't. Something takes over. You've heard stories of people being able to lift cars or rubble when their loved ones are trapped underneath, their air supply rapidly dwindling as they beg for help. They said it was adrenaline. You never believed them until this moment.

The second your fingers graze the hunting knife, you're plunging the blade into the person's skull. A bubbling sound takes over the screaming, and you push the knife further until their body goes limp, and you push them off you, taking your knife with you. You crawl on your stomach to reach for your gun and shoot the person on the other side of the car, the one Jane saw. You don't see where the bullet lands, but you hear the body hit the ground as you take Jane in your arms again. She whines and tries to kick away from you as you open your car door, and you stop to look at her.

"It's me, baby. It's Mommy." You say, but the hot tears are still streaming down her face.

"B… blood! Blood!" She shrieks. You look down and find your shirt, hands, and arms slick with blood. You try to wipe your hands on your pants, but your bloody handprints cling to her clothes and skin. All your breath leaves you in one huff as the past twenty minutes catch up with you. Three people. You killed three people. Jane was in trouble. You're her mother. You did what you had to.

The sound of jets snaps you out of it. You put Jane in the backseat and get in the driver's seat, ignoring the way your hands shake as you try to put the key in the ignition. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you beg as the engine sputters. You turn the key again and again and again, but nothing happens. The plane is getting closer, and you can see people running toward you at the sound of the engine clicking. "Please! Fuck!" You yell, your voice cracking as you press the key harder. A guy jumps on the hood of your car and pounds on the glass, making Jane scream in terror. You see the plane pass over you and yell at Jane to buckle in and cover her head. Finally, the engine turns over right as the bomb explodes, not even a mile away.

Your car shakes as debris flies in all different directions. Blindly, you throw the car in reverse and ignore the crunch of bodies under your wheels. The momentum throws the guy from the hood of your car, and you don't look back as you race in the opposite direction. Your heart pounds as you reach for the radio but hear nothing but static. No radio. No information. No help. Whatever help the military could've been sending is shot to shit. They're more interested in dropping bombs on civilians.

"What's going on? What's wrong with those people?" Jane asks from the backseat, and you look at her in the rearview mirror. She's too small to look this scared. Your fingers twitch to reach for her before remembering you're covered in blood.

"I don't know, but it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna get us somewhere safe."

"Where?" She asks, and you hesitate. There are bombs and those… things all over the city. What if it's like that everywhere? What if nowhere is safe anymore? No, there has to be somewhere. If there's not, you'll make it safe for her. There's no other option.

"I don't know yet," you say as you turn to get to the highway. It's packed, and no one is moving. It's standstill traffic for at least the next ten miles. You take a different way and try to get to the back roads, but those are packed too. There's no way out. Your stomach lurches at the idea of being trapped as bombs fall from the sky with your five-year-old in the backseat and no way to protect her. You look around and see fields to your right. You don't know where they lead or if they'll even take you out of the city, but it's enough to get you away from the death trap of a highway. You cut the wheel and pray your car doesn't fall apart as you drive over the curb and into the field. "What are you doing?" Jane asks frantically.

"Are you buckled?" You ask, glancing back to make sure the seatbelt is pulled across her chest. The car rocks with the uneven terrain of the field, but you're moving. You make it ten miles, maybe twenty, before seeing any signs of people again. Even then, they're all dead. Houses burned down, cars in pieces, and debris everywhere. Still, you find a road and can exhale for the first time since the destruction started.

You're about to turn and sail past the destruction when gunshots ring out. Jane screams, and you turn to avoid whoever is shooting. You curse and reach for your gun in the passenger seat as you speed away. You look back to make sure Jane didn't get hit and find her sitting there, breathing heavily but otherwise unharmed. You make it another two miles before your tire finally uses the last of its air, and you can't keep going. You reload the gun while you're safe in the car, and Jane watches with big eyes. She doesn't say anything as you throw your hair up and clip the magazine back in.

"Ready?" You ask as you meet her eyes. She just nods and climbs into your lap, clinging to your neck, as you get out of the car. You leave the only car you've ever known, the car you used to drive yourself to the hospital when you were in labor, and the car you drove Jane around for the first few years of her life on the side of a country road. You start walking away from the city and the gunshots, her face buried in your shoulder, as you listen for footsteps, screaming, and planes.

The only thing surrounding you is the chirping cicadas and the summer heat suffocating you. You decide to try and find somewhere to hide out until the morning. The light of day will give you an advantage. You can make a plan. You can keep Jane safe in the daylight. You rub her back as twigs crunch under your shoes, but she doesn't acknowledge the movement. You want to cry at how far removed she feels from her body. In the same vein, you're secretly glad that she is. Maybe she won't remember tonight. Maybe that's the best thing. Maybe this will all be a bad dream, and you'll wake up tomorrow in your bed.

"Stop right there!" A voice yells, proving you wrong. You jump and turn to see a soldier in full tactical gear with a gun pointed at you and Jane. You put her down and force her to stay behind you as you raise your hands above your head. "Drop your weapon!" The soldier yells again. It's a woman. You can see her blonde hair in the light of her flashlight, and you nod as you slowly put your gun down in the tall grass. Her gun stays pointed at you as Jane sniffles behind you.

"Mama," she cries, and you shake your head, putting a hand on her head to keep her behind you.

"Be quiet, Janey," you mumble, still staring at the soldier. "I have a kid. We're not… we're not sick like the others," you say, but she doesn't move. The bombs, the exit points being sealed off, the sirens. You realize what's happening. The military is trying to contain everyone within the city so they can kill the sick and whoever else might be. "You don't have to do this. Please."

"I have orders."

"She's five," you say. Jane squirms behind you, but you don't let her move into the line of fire. "She doesn't even know the alphabet yet. Please, don't do this." The soldier's radio crackles with a request for her location, but she doesn't make any move to answer it. Instead, she adjusts her grip on her gun and frowns.

"I'm sorry." She says. You dive, pulling Jane down, and scramble for your gun. Bullets fire over your head, making your ears ring as you blindly reach for the metal and press Jane into your chest. You find the grip, cover Jane's ear with one hand, and shoot until the automatic weapon stops firing. Your head pulses with pain from the ear-splitting gunfire, and your vision swims before you realize Jane is still tucked into your chest. You look down and see her— there are tears dried to her face, and she looks scared as hell, but she seems fine. Until you see blood on her shirt. You immediately sit up to search her for injuries when your arm burns with hot pain. A bullet grazed you. That's where the blood is coming from. She didn't get hurt. You let out a shaky breath as you hug her tightly, clutching her like a lifeline.

"You're bleeding," Jane says, and you nod. You kiss her head and wipe your sudden tears away, the pain, exhaustion, and horror finally catching up with you.

"Don't worry about that. Are you hurt?" You ask, putting your hands on her face to look at her.

"That was really scary." She says. You open your mouth to say something comforting, but the crackling of the now-dead soldier's radio pulls your attention. You look around to make sure you're alone in the field before rushing over and smashing her radio. Blood rolls down your arm as you turn her body to take her backpack full of tactical gear and her gun. Twenty-four hours ago, you'd never even seen a dead body. Now you're stripping one for resources while your daughter watches. You dig through the backpack until you find a first aid kit and unroll enough bandage for your arm. Then, without saying anything, you pick Jane up and start walking again.

You stay in the shadows and don't dare to turn on your flashlight. Instead, you rely on moonlight, but even that's shoddy with all the ash and smoke in the air. You ignore the blistering pain in your arm and the weight of the gear on your back. She is the most important thing you could ever carry. She comes first. You walk until you find an old barn, the door broken open, and the wood slats falling apart. It's probably been abandoned since long before tonight. Still, you set Jane down outside before clearing it, checking for threats as she stands just beyond the door. She's barely tall enough to even reach the door handle. Your heart hurts.

Once everything is secure, you and Jane settle along the back wall of the barn, hidden away from any prying eyes that might come around. She lays on your chest, and you run your hand through her hair as she listens to your heartbeat. Her cheek is smooshed against her hand as she starts losing a fight with her eyelids. You can hear her breathing and the way she jumps a little every time she starts to fall asleep. It's the quietest it's been all day.

"Try to get some sleep, okay?" You say quietly as you kiss her temple. She looks up at you and pushes some hair out of your face. It's her way of returning the favor for playing with her hair. She does it every time you guys snuggle like this. Normally, it makes you smile, but you feel more like crying at how gently she touches your face.

"I wanna go home." She whines.

"I know," you say. "We'll go home soon."

"But not tonight?"

"Not tonight."

"I'm scared." She says. You sit up and hold her face in your hands, barely able to make out her features in the moonlight streaming through the roof. Still, you can feel the fear running through her blood. You can feel her heartbeat against yours.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Ever. Not tonight, not tomorrow, and not the day after that, okay? I will always be here to protect you, no matter what," you say. "Do you trust me?" You ask, and she nods. She relaxes in your hands and buries her head in your chest again. You rub soothing circles into her back and hum her favorite Janis Joplin song, the vibrations helping her heart rate to even out. When you're pretty sure she's asleep, you reach for your backpack and pull your gun out, keeping it low and pointed at the door as she rests.

"Mommy?" She whispers suddenly, sleep on the edge of her voice, and you look down to see her staring at you.

"What's up, bug?"

"Why did you hurt those people?" She asks, knocking the wind out of you. Quick flashes of gunfire, explosions, and glints of your knife replay in your mind. You can still feel the terror and the adrenaline rolling through your veins. You swear you'll see the dead eyes of the infected for the rest of your life. As you go through your version of events, you keep coming back to how terrified Jane's screams made you. How the strain of her voice awoke something primal and dangerous deep inside you. How you killed without remorse to keep her safe.

If it were just you, you would've let the soldier shoot you, or the infected eat you. But it's not just you. You have her. You fought tooth and nail to bring her into this world, and you'll be damned if you let someone take her away from you. You'll kill anyone and anything before you let someone hurt her. But she's five. She can't process that. You'll be surprised if she can even process tonight because you know you definitely can't. So, you don't tell her any of that. You just kiss her forehead, hold her a little tighter, and flip the safety on your gun.

"Get some sleep."

[spopsalt]

Horde Prime is just such a lame final villian, He has no ersonality beyond just evil cult leaderrr like you have SO MUCH potential there! There is SO MUCH you can do with having a literal CULT LEADER as your main antagionist, I say this as someone who's written a story with a cult leader before. Y'know a show that does villians right? RICK AND MORTY BABY!

Honestly I don't get the hype around Rick Prime, he's not the greatest villian, he's fine, he's passable, but he doesn't have much personality, kinda seems like wasted potential. Especially considering that he didn't personally know Rick c137, and only brutally killed his wife and child because he bruised his ego. And I struggle to say three words about him, I mean uhhhh he's evil, sadistic, and uhm....has a big ego. I mean he's a fun to watch, and is admittadly very memorable. Also, it's honestly refreshing to have a villian that doesn't have some tragic backstory, honestly though, I feel like Evil Morty is a MUCH more interesting villian. He's smart, manipulative, cunning, arrogant, and is shown to have a sense of humor (Example Rick c137 saying "Are you better than me?!" And Evil Morty replying "Jesus Chirst, I hope so!) and is very good at making plans. Needing only one day to completely control Evil Rick, he also has a belivable backstory, his Rick is implied to be physically abusive, since he has a tendency to flinch, we actually see him flinch and shield himself in his backstory when Evil Rick yells at him, but both of these villians are WAY better than Horde Prime because THEY HAVE PERSONALITIES.

While Rick Prime doesn't have a ton of personality, they make up for that by having him be fun to watch, Horde Prime is just boring, he has no interesting dialogue, as of writing this I can't remember a SINGLE line from him, just the god-awful deleted victim blaming line "You always wanted more, all she ever wanted was you"

Meanwhile the lines I remember from Rick Prime off the top of my head "You think it's cool being the smartest man on earth, but once we give you this technology you become the smartest thing in every concieveable universe, the infinite Rick, a god." "It's a non-stop where all the guests are the only people we like" "Or me! Again it might be me! But like a saw thing! I'm veryyy sneaky." "Look it's the wife guy! Dead wife Rick! I'll tell you this guy does not know when to quit (...) You brought two Mortys with you? What are they, your cheering section?" "What're gonna do? 'Aw Jeez' me to death? Oh you don't want those scematics buddy, those are for grownups. (...) Listen, Rick to Rick, he's got the weapon plans, buddy, nip this in the bud! He's 14! What's gonna happen the next time he gets mad at Grandpa?" And my all time favorite lines from him that he says while literally getting brutally beaten to death by the guy who's wife and child he brutally murdered "Haha! Let's do this then! You're welcome by the way! I MADE you! I showed you infinity! And what did you do with it!? Hang out with MY grandson?! Raise echos of MY daughter?! What's your LIFE without me!? Admit it! You would've been me! I just walked into your garage before you walked into mine! But eventually you did! YOU LIVED IN MY HOUSE!" He made it abundatly clear that he regrets NOTHING! Not. One. Single. Thing. Meanwhile I literally cannot remember Horde Prime's last words.

How do you screw up THAT badly with a final villian? Rick Prime isn't the greatest villian, but at least he's fun and memorable. What's memorable about Horde Prime besides his character design? That's right! Nothing! Evil Morty is an amazing villian with an interesting backstory that makes sense, being one Morty who finally snapped after years of emotional and implied physical abuse. Meanwhile Horde Prime is just uhhhh evil and uhmmm that's it. He's evil, deal with it. HE'S A GOOD FINAL VILLIAN!

Sorry I kinda blabbered on about Rick and Morty for too long, it's just AMAZING how many things it does better than spop, it's not the greatest tv show ever, but I like it nonetheless, and when it does good, it does GOOD! It just has a bad reputation because of those godawful episodes in seasons 4-6, I won't specify, but if you know, YOU KNOW! Ok, I'll stop talking now, I hope you enjoyed this comparison!

[henrysglock]

“real ones left byler behind for greener ST pastures (the Creel/NINA plotline) because that shit is crack cocaine once you're in it”

People are interested in what they’re interested in. It seems like y’all are already predisposed to being more into that kinda stuff, and that’s totally fine- no offense, we all have our own taste! But it seems like you all took your lessened interest in byler/dissatisfaction with the fandom/lack of obsession with will/connection to henry and made into your whole personality while many of us haven’t left because we simply aren’t interested in the same things. You can’t make someone care about things more than they love byler.

The creel/nina stuff will never be crack cocaine to those of us who aren’t predisposed to it. personally, nina was my second least favorite part of S4 (I didn’t really like the flashbacks, which I found boring/repetitive), and the creel stuff IS interesting, but I only really care about the supernatural stuff as it relates to mike/will. And it’s cool while watching it, but it’s not what runs in my mind everyday with specificity. The characters do. And what converted me from being part of the GA- a passionate fan, but still GA (I was never active in the fandom during the off-season)- was byler. I’m here for the gays. And I think that’s true for a lot of us here.

What that opener tells me is that you missed my entire point with those tags.

The reblog I was replying to was saying that they left byler behind because ST4 wasn't good. I said I left byler behind for greener ST pastures because a) NINA is more interesting to me and b) that area of the fandom is less toxic. So...did you or did you not comprehend the context there?

It wasn't about:

"oughrghrghr byler BAD. byler BORING!!11!!!!111 find better plotlines LOSERS!!!! NINA BEST PLOT 4 EVER!!!!!"

It was about:

"Hey, just because I'm put off by the byler fandom because it's self-admittedly a toxic dump these days and I can see the ways bylers screwed themselves over as a fandom doesn't mean I think ST4 was bad. I just found a part of it that was better for me in general".

So you can take your "You can’t make someone care about things more than they love byler" and shove it, because that was never and has never been what I'm trying to do.

Also...I'm about to earn my title as "mean and condescending", because you've caught me in a special mood.

I genuinely don't care that you don't like the supernatural plot outside stuff that relates to M/W. I don't care that you favor characters over plot. I think favoring characters over plot, only being "here for the gays", and devaluing backstories/sub-plots or cherry-picking them for only what relates to your fave little gaybies is a detriment to your understanding of them. For example, the Russia arc isn't my favorite, but I still hype it up what for does irt subtext for the story as a whole, even as it relates to characters who aren't my favorites. I care about NINA because I care about Will's vanishing. I care about Will's vanishing because I care about NINA. You can't claim to care about the characters and then just cherry-pick your way through the plots for what you think relates to your faves, because it ALL contributes to the forces that shape your faves! If you actually cared about the characters outside of "ouaghh will we get to see the boys KISS 😳???", you'd care about the inner workings of the plot as a whole.

So, in short: skill issue.

So actually, to refute your point: I do care about Will. I just do it with a more nuanced lens than 99% of bylers. I care about him as both a character and as a cog in the plot. I care about his good moments and bad moments, and how his behavior/character development might tie into the progression of the overall plot and affect all the other characters. In fact, I'd argue I care about Will more genuinely and with more objective intellectual depth than 99% of bylers...and I'm able to do so because I understand and care about the plots that shape him.

And complaining about me making my connection to Henry my whole personality is so fucking funny coming from "I'm here for the gays". Unparalleled hypocrisy. Many such cases, unfortunately.

I'm dissatisfied with the fandom. That is very true. Shit like this is precisely the reason why. I'm so fucking fed up with this kind of self-centered, self-righteous behavior that's indicative of a fucking victim complex worth speaking to a psychiatrist about.

Now go back to obsessing over boys kissing and stop making harassing me your entire personality.

[inamindfarfaraway]

What are your thoughts on Duela Dent? Specifically her Pre-Crisis backstory—before she was retconned to not even being related to Harvey for Some Reason. I think there could be some interesting themes about generational trauma and how his own childhood severely impacted Harvey’s relationship with his own daughter.

Harvey and Gilda having a kid who becomes a superhero to try to redeem her heritage is a great concept, and like a lot of great concepts, DC dropped it down the drain. But that’s what fanon is for! There’s so much you can explore with Duela. If I were to remake her myself, I’d do away with the whole Joker’s Daughter and Harlequin identities, at least after the initial phase of her trying to get Batman’s attention by pretending to be other supervillains’ daughter; and instead have her reflect Harvey and Two-Face’s themes of duality and justice. Like, maybe her heroic identity has a Lady Justice theme with a symbol of scales, a sword for a weapon and a tied domino mask with coloured lenses to mimic a blindfold. Or maybe she defiantly avoids all things duality-related to disown her father’s evil legacy, only to later incorporate her own version of it as she accepts him as a part of her. It doesn’t feel right to have her so associated with the Joker and similar to Harley Quinn when she isn’t even related to them, especially when they’re both very popular and present in DC already (in the Joker’s case, far more than he deserves). Let’s keep her a Dent first and foremost.

Anyway, onto the relationships! I like the idea that Harvey and Gilda wanted kids and them trying before the acid attack and turning out to have succeeded after the dad is a crime lord or in Arkham Asylum is so perfectly tragic. Maybe Harvey “Definitely Not Hanging on by a Thread” Dent wants to be a dad partly, subconsciously to prove to himself that he can be the opposite of his father, to create the ultimate proof that he isn’t doomed to fail and suffer and ruin everything he touches, that he’s capable of having a healthy, happy family and can handle his C-PTSD just fucking fine. In essence, to ‘redeem’ and stick it to his own terrible childhood and paternal heritage. The cycle of generational trauma can’t have that much power over him if he breaks it, can it? No more power than Gotham’s cycle of violence and corruption will have once he, Bats and Gordon take the streets back for the people! A nice work/personal life parallel that mirrors how Bruce doesn’t stop thinking like Batman when he takes the cowl off. But then the trial happens. And then Gilda misses her period. And now Harvey, unable to find a way out of perpetuating Gotham’s vicious cycle, is an absent father with an ever-growing criminal record who perpetuates his familial one. He passes that whole toxic mindset down to his child. He loves her so much and hates that he’s failing her! It’s just that you can’t hate yourself into a better person, so the ‘Oh God, I’m becoming my father’ stress on top of everything else wrong with him actually makes him spiral lower faster.

Two-Face, I believe, loves Gilda as much as Harvey does (though she doesn’t seem to love him back). I’d imagine he loves Duela too. I bet Duela is the only thing both he and Harvey can ignore the coin for. Two-Face loves in a particularly “If anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in Gotham and then myself” way. Of course, he makes things happen to her. Growing up with your dad, or his alter or whatever, committing murder and terrorism and such on the news is not fun. She could easily be bullied because of Harvey and Two-Face. So she would really resent them, especially the more immoral Two-Face, before gaining a more objective, nuanced understanding of them and struggling to reconcile how awful her daddy issues have felt her entire life with the causes of them being sympathetic and not beyond rehabilitation. When she becomes a superhero, does she avoid Gotham to avoid them? Does she never go on patrol while Two-Face is at large? Or does she seek the system out for catharsis, or the desperate, painful need to know her father in any capacity? Do they have incredibly awkward fights? The drama writes itself, but there’s a lot of comic potential too.

Duela: Dad, for fuck’s sake, go to therapy.

Two-Face: That’s my girl! We’re so proud of you, sweetheart! I mean, the way you took out my best muscle, that was amazing.

Duela: (rolls her eyes) Therapy. Now.

Two-Face, still robbing the bank: Right, right. In a minute. And don’t stay out too late again. It’s a school night. A little bit of financial redistribution really doesn’t have to be your problem, you know. Just saying.

Henchman: I didn’t know you had a daughter, boss. Seeing you act like this is so -

Two-Face: Finish that sentence and you’ll get a closed-casket funeral.

Duela: Dad!

Two-Face: Sorry. It can be open casket.

Duela: (sighs) Put your gun down and stop stealing the public’s money, or I will start vaping to cheer myself up.

Two-Face: Alright, Jesus! I’m coming!

Does he kill innocent people, sells drugs and guns and torture the Batkids without losing any sleep over it? Yes. Is he absolutely horrified by the thought of his little girl being unhappy? Also yes. Will he stop doing the aforementioned activities that she’s unhappy about? …Later. After she’s done all her homework.

Everything about Gilda is underdeveloped in canon, but she’s usually depicted as unconditionally loving Harvey despite his crimes. Having a child to worry about complicates that. The Dent system are in no condition to coparent. They might even be dangerous, if not directly. Completely cutting your husband out of your life is hard and could hurt your daughter, but so could taking her to visit him in Arkham every weekend. Offering your heart is one thing, exposing your kid’s is another. The conspicuously on-theme name Duela sticks out to me. Did Harvey, newly fixated on duality, get to name her? Was that a concession Gilda gave him while they were arranging for him to have little to no involvement in her life? Does Gilda tell Duela stories about the good in Harvey and their past together? How comfortable is she discussing who he’s become? Is she willing to forgive, or perhaps rather put aside, every atrocity the system could possibly commit except deliberately hurting their daughter? What happens if somehow one of them crosses that line?

One thing I don’t need to question is that Duela is the ultimate mother’s girl. If a villain threatens Gilda to get to her, so help them. She might have no interest in law because look how well taht career turned out for, but be an avid artist, in Gilda’s field of sculpting and/or different mediums. Art can be very therapeutic, after all. And Duela undoubtedly needs therapy. (“I’ll go back to Arkham if you talk to the school counsellor tomorrow!” “I’m not killing people!” “That’s no excuse!”) You could have a fun contrast between her having an archetypical creative type’s disorganized, expressive, eccentric personality as a civilian and her serious vigilante persona being all about rationality, clarity and balance. Chaos and order in one. Her costume and equipment could even be black and white while her art and casual clothes are brightly coloured.