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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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romana-after-dark · 11 months ago

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Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked. Most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

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afriendlyblackhottie · 2 years ago

Text

Breakup to Make Up

Summary: Chris is tired of pretending he doesn’t want you.

Pairings: frat boy! Chris Evans x black!reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, arguing, make up sex

(A/N: long time no see 😭 this took me forever to finish, but we’re finally here! Maybe a little rushed at the end cuz I just really really wanted to post something. Anyway please like, follow, and reblog with comments. Thank you 💜✌🏾)

—————————————————

He wondered if you could feel him watching your every move. Eyes trailing up and down that body. Thinking about how it had been way too long since he’d seen it with nothing on. Three weeks to be exact. Fuck had you been mad at him.

He knows he shouldn’t have freaked out over your little friend or whatever but so what he was jealous. Yeah, yeah it made him a hypocrite or whatever but it’s not like you didn’t know about Britt.

And after that night it’s not like they’d been fucking around. Britt had ‘needed time to think.’ The two of them really only keeping up with appearances.

But he’d done it.

Finally.

Broke up with her.

Sure he knew the shit storm that would ensue was going to be not great. When her parents find out all hell would probably break loose. Her mother had big plans for them.

Ya know the whole big wedding. Where they move into a giant home in a suburb of Boston to be the perfect New England family. Chris was supposed to go off and be this guy that everyone was expecting him to be.

But what about what he wanted him to be. Maybe he didn’t want to think about what he was supposed to do. What about what he wanted to do.

Right now he wanted you.

Even if you were acting like couldn’t see him. It seemed like you’d been avoiding social settings. Which made sense, considering Britt’s sorority seemed to have it out for you even more than they did before.

It wasn’t like people hadn’t known about the argument over beer pong. Had been calling you trashy and shit. As if Britt wasn’t completely trying to egg you on. It’s just normally you wouldn’t have stood up for yourself as you usually tried to brush her off but then it was like how dare you not kiss the queen bee’s ass.

He was tired of dating a bully. It made him look like an ass too. Then you had the nerve to look so fucking sexy telling her off. Made him remember the moment he sunk into you. Chris didn’t even know sex could feel like that. Then he found himself envelopes in your warmth and now he couldn’t go back. So yeah sorry if you made him a little crazy.

Even still you’d done a great job at ignoring him. Had clearly blocked his number. Thought you were getting away from him. Clearly you didn’t know who you were fucking with because Chris had no intention of just letting you go and what giving someone else the chance to touch you? Over his dead body.

He’d been letting you play your little games and act like this but he was tired of it. He needed to get what was his. You were his.

Finally your eyes were connected. Though you tried to look away all quickly. And yet they still kept making their way to his. No way you were still mad at him.

Found himself chuckling when one of his frat brothers came up to you to start talking. Yeah fucking right. As if you’d show Preston any fucking attention.

So why the fuck were you giving him your number.

————

Ever since that day, Chris found himself more irritated than usual as he saw the way Preston had hung around you. Like a little fucking fly just buzzing around his favorite piece of dessert.

Grossed him the fuck out. Made him want to hit something. You had to be doing this on purpose, right? Was trying to get under his skin.

So what he couldn’t help himself. He needed to talk to you. “What, Chris?” You asked him all flat. Arms crossed. As if you were really sick of him.

“Cut the shit,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. Surprised you even answered the door of your dorm. Of course he saw you left and needed to make sure you were home and not who knows where with Preston of all people especially. Couldn’t stand the idea of that dweeb hanging around you. Around what was his. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. “What’s going on between you and Preston?” He asked.

You found yourself scoffing. “That is none of your business.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? It’s not? So you’re saying if I were to push you back into your room and take those cute little shorts down I’m not gonna find a wet pussy underneath it?”

Your eyes narrowed at this. He really had some damn nerve. Shrugged you answered, “Maybe. Just because you turn me on doesn’t mean I’m yours.”

Chris bit his tongue. Eyes trailing up down your body. Had you been waiting for someone. Seemed like you were dressed for a dick appointment.

“Chris, what’re you doin’ here?” Preston’s voice could be heard behind him and he immediately thought about turning around to punch him in the face. Instead his eyes connected with yours in a snarl.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Chris asked.

“Preston, what are you doing here?” You asked at the same time.

“Wanted to see if you had the notes from chem,” he said, looking between the two of you. “Remember.”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “Yeah just let me grab ‘em.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. So if you weren’t dressed like this for him then who were you dressed like this for. He followed you into your room, glancing behind you as he came to sit on your bed. Damn sure wasn’t leaving now that he was here. Not after seeing Preston here.

You took him the notes and Chris could hear you exchanging thank you’s before closing the door. “Who the hell do you think you are?” You snapped at him.

“No who the hell do you think you are?” He repeated. “What were you hoping something would happen with Preston of all fucking people?”

“I didn’t say that!” You exploded. “Why am I even explaining anything to you. Weren’t not together. You have a girlfriend!”

“I broke up with her!” He finally admitted.

Chris couldn’t hold it in anymore. Had hated that the two of you hadn’t been talking as is and now there it was. All out on the table. Shit.

Your jaw hung open at his confession. Chest thumping. “W-what?” You asked, unsure if you misheard him.

“I broke up with Britt,” he repeated. “After our fight, I don’t know,” he looked away from you not able to handle the way you were looking at him with those big eyes, “I guess I realized you were right. That it wasn’t fair.”

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, sitting down beside him. Not that you knew what to say. Sure you’d thought about this moment a fuck ton of times, but never thought it would actually happen. Men like Chris didn’t actually leave their girlfriends for their side chicks. Or that’s what you’d been telling yourself to get over it.

“Just figured why the hell do I keep wasting time with her when I-,” he cut himself off trying to even figure out what he was trying to say. Those words on the tip of his tongue but it wasn’t easy. “Then I come here and you’re dressed like this and here comes Preston I-,”

“Chris, it… I didn’t know he was coming by,” you went on to say. “Not that you’d have any right to be mad anyway.”

That made him look at you, head snapping in your direction. “Watch it, Y/N,” he said. “Just because we were fighting doesn’t mean you weren’t mine.”

“We weren’t fighting I broke up with you,” you said.

“No,” he said. “Sure I gave you your space, but you did not break up with me. And I better not find out that you’ve been with anyone sense.”

You glared at him. Crossing your arms as you looked away. Only for him to put his hand under your chin to make you look back at him. “I’m not your property.”

“I didn’t call you property. I would never call you that. You are my woman, though. And I better never find out that anyone else got to have you.” He got closer to whisper into your ear. Fuck you were finally so close to him. At least you were only in your dorm wearing a skimpy little thing like this. Actually… “Whats with what you’re wearing anyway.”

“Not that it’s any of your business-,” you started to say only for him to drop his hand to your neck to give you a warning squeeze.

“Everything you do is my business,” he corrected.

You rolled your eyes. “My roommates out with her boyfriend so I decided to have a nice romantic night in with myself,” you finished.

Which in his head all he heard you say was that you had the whole place to yourselves. No Preston to interrupt. Not you running off to some little study buddy either. He didn’t give a shit about your nasty attitude. Could fuck you through that. Would have you acting sweeter than a peach after he fucked it out of you.

“Anything else you need to know, Warden,” you said, trying to sound all snooty. He’d had it up to here with you, though. Yanking you into him so you’d lay across his lap. “Hey!”

“I’d watch how you talk to me if I were you. Sure my frat brothers probably know how much of a slut you are, but you want your neighbors to know too?”

“We ca- Chris!” You gasped as he cupped your ass. Putting his thumb in between your ass cheek to really get a grip on it. Yeah he’d never go that long without touching you like this ever again. See why he couldn’t help get jealous. He was fucking crazy about you. All of you.

“What was that?” He taunted, hand coming up so he could deliver a sharp slap to the globe of your ass cheek. Gasping again and hips jumping up. “That’s what I thought,” he said when he realized you weren’t talking back for once. “Gonna watch your fucking mouth now, huh?”

You didn’t say anything. Just laid with your head against the mattress. Almost like you were trying to hide from him.

Chris laid a smack on your ass before groping you. “Let’s get it clear, Sweetheart. You’re mine. Your pussy is mine. Your body is mine. Even your fucking heart is mine.” He grabbed you by your hair to pull your head up so he could bring your face up to his. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Chris, I-,” you whimpered, a stray tear falling. Hated how turned on you were.

He’d cut you off by grabbing your ass again, sharply. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” He asked. Not giving a shit about what excuse you were ready to come up with.

You nodded, bottom lip trembling. Chris let out an irritated breath. All he wanted to do was love you right now. Kiss you. Show you how much he’d been missing you. Instead here you were playing little fucking games.

He put his hand against your jaw. Pulling you into his mouth. “What? You can’t speak?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “You gotta problem?”

You shook your head but Chris could hear you sniffle. Ah shit. Instead of keeping it going he pulled you up. Pulling you into his lap.

“I th-though-thought you-you didn’t wa-want m-me,” you were sobbing into his shoulder. Except he couldn’t exactly understand you.

He wrapped his arms around you. Rocking you back and forth. “Shhh, Baby. Its okay. I got you. I’m sorry.” He said anyway. Whispering into your ear. Squeezing you so you had to get as close as possible to him.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” you repeated, much more clear this time. Tears still streaming down your face.

Chris furrowed his brow. Hating those words as soon as they left your mouth. “Never, Baby. I just didn’t know what to do. Wanted to have my cake and eat it, too.”

“What about you and Britt?” You asked with a sniffle.

“We’re done, Baby. I promise. There’s no one else,” he whispered in your ear, kissing behind your earlobe. “I’m all yours.”

You nodded, pulling away as your lip trembled. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he replied leaning in to press a plump kiss to your lips. Only meaning for it to be quick except he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Had been too fucking long since he’d tasted you.

Chris laid back, taking you with him. Lips moving against each other. Fuck he missed this. Hands going to your ass to squeeze you. Needing to feel you all over. Can’t believe he went this long.

“Chris,” you moaned against his mouth. Fucking music to his ears. He turned you over in your bed so he was on top. Making sure to get nice and situated between your thighs.

Pinning your hands down with his as he felt himself getting harder. Needed you fucking bad. That’s why he couldn’t help himself when he came over here. Had been sick of waiting for you to come to him. If he needed to chase you so be is.

His bicep curled around your thigh. Not able to stop himself from finally fucking doing it. If anything it shouldn’t have taken him this long. Couldn’t help it with his stubborn ass.

“Chris,” you whimpered as his lips began to trail your neck. Back arching so you pressed into him deeper. Tits getting squished against his chest. As bad as he wanted to stay like this, he wanted more. Pulling away so he could take his shirt off.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, before kissing you quickly. “You missed me, huh.”

You nodded, throwing your arms around him. Nails trailing along his muscular back making him shiver underneath your touch. “You know I did.”

He licked his lips, kissing your again. “I missed you, too,” he confessed. Not like he hadn’t spent most of last week in denial about it. If he hadn’t seen you talking to that asshole would he have even finally got his shit together. Probably not. The jealousy had eaten him up.

Especially since he’d been trying to give Britt the time she asked for. Didn’t want to be a complete and total dick. Too bad he wanted his girl. So now he finally had you right where he wanted you. Underneath him. Ready for a taste when-

“Y/N, have you seen my-,” a voice interrupted the two of you. Making you pull away quickly as your roommate stopped when she saw. “Shit! Sorry!” She backed out, closing the door behind her.

You pushed against him so you could get up. Chris groaned, realizing how fucking hard he was. Had been ready to claim you all over again and now you were getting up to go after her to ask what she wanted. Definitely embarrassed by the shy look on your face when you came back. “She forgot her card,” you mumbled when you sat back down on the bed.

“Oh,” he replied. “That’s okay. You okay?”

“Yeah I’m okay,” you replied, biting your lip.

Chris smiled. Not being able to help himself when he scooted you on his lap. Kissing your cheek. “You hungry? Want to get some food or we could hang out somewhere. Something.”

“Like, you wanna hang out in public?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. No more keeping this behind closed doors, okay?”

With that you nodded too, a smile spreading on your lips. “Just let me get ready.”

“Of course, Baby.”

——————————————————-

You could really tell Chris had been trying to put in the effort. From making it clear that he was definitely your boyfriend. To you practically living in his room. Still though aside from making out the two of you hadn’t had sex and he’d been dying to take it back to that.

Seemed like every time he got close, someone would interrupt or the two of you would end up talking. Which was great, but fuck he doesn’t think his dick can live like this anymore. It was like constant blue balls 24/7.

Sometimes you’d have your ass all pressed up against him while you slept. Wondering if you could feel him under you. Had been wearing a pair of panties underneath the shirt he let you borrow. Which had risen up so his cock could be pressed up right against your soft skin.

He doesn’t think he’d been this horny since he first hit puberty. Not like you’d be mad at him if he slid in. If anything he knew you’d take it. You always took it. Except then you got your period and while he didn’t give a shit, you did and told him you didn’t want your first time again to be like that.

At least he got to be with you in public now. Didn’t care who saw him hold your hand. Kissed you wherever he felt like, whenever he wanted. And you and your best friend seemed happy dragging him and her boyfriend everywhere. Even out to lunch where you were sitting way to close to him. Feeling all over his thigh.

“Unless you’re trying to start something, I suggest you stop,” he said, into your ear.

“Maybe I am,” you whispered back to him before kissing his cheek.

“Oh well, isn’t this cute,” a familiar voice interrupted you, making your heads snap up.

Chris groaned as soon as he saw his ex standing there glaring down at them. Three of her little minions beside her. “Britt,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Cut the shit, Christopher,” she snapped. “Look, I played nice when I knew you were fucking her behind my back-,”

You interrupted his ex with a cackle. Not able to help yourself. “Was it really behind your back?” You tilted your head to the side. “Not like you weren’t there.”

“Wait, what?” Your roommate gasped, suddenly everyone turning to look at her.

“Tell ‘em, Britt,” you said with a shrug. “About how you dared me to fuck your boyfriend and saw that I did it better than you and I fucked him so good he saw that he didn’t need to put up with your shit anymore.”

It had been clear you’d been waiting to get some things off your chest to her. Not that Chris could blame you. Britt had no business messing with you before and now look.

Britt’s jaw dropped as her friends turned to her. “You did what?” One of them asked with a raised eyebrow, almost like she wanted to laugh. The one Chris had been telling her was not her friend of all people.

Chris looked over at you. Shocked by your reaction. He knew you didn’t like Britt, but he’d never seen you like this. It was kind of hot seeing you stick up for yourself. Laying claim to him.

“Chris! You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” She gasped, stomping her foot.

“It’s not like she’s lying,” he replied. You sat beside him with a smirk. Leaning over to kiss behind his ear. Kind of enjoying you like this. That’s when he put his hand on your thigh , squeezing it.

Britt stomped away. Her friends not too far behind. Then he found himself trying to rush so the two of you could get the fuck out of there and back to his bedroom. Was tired of waiting and shit.

“Chris!” You squealed as he picked you up, pushing your back into the wall.

“Looked so fucking hot,” he said, making you gasp as his lips had went to your neck, must have been trying to leave you a hickey with the way he was sucking on your neck. “Need you so bad.”

“I didn’t tell you, but I got off my period this morning,” you said, biting your lip.

“You weren’t going to tell me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Wanted to see how long you could go?”

Chris smacked your ass. Leaving his hands there so he could spread your ass cheeks apart. Ready to give it to you like he’d been missing. Sure he could have made your first time together again special and it would be, but the candles and rose petals would have to wait for another time.

“Don’t ever do that shit again,” he said into to it ear. “You hear me?”

You nodded before smashing your lips to his. Hands feeling all over his muscles in his shoulders. Not able to help yourself. Wanting to be close to him. Couldn’t believe he was finally all yours. Hadn’t even realized you were in his room until he laid you down in his bed.

“Missed you, Baby,” he said, flipping over so you could be on top of him. Straddling him around his waist as his hands went back to your ass.

“I missed you, too,” you whimpered, grinding against him. Needing to feel the friction. Pussy getting wetter as you spoke. “Please,” you preened.

“What do you want, Baby?” He asked, helping you remove your top.

“I want you. Want you so bad,” you moaned, as his lips went to your chest. Nipping and sucking and biting. Making you gasp for him as you lowered yourself so you were right over his dick. The friction making your jaw drop open as you didn’t stop. “Fuck, fuck me. Please.”

“I should make you beg for it since you made me wait this long,” he said, putting his thumb against your crotch. Ready to take off your pants. Putting you on your back once again so he could do that. “I don’t even know if you can handle it.”

Not like you didn’t agree. How the hell were you going to take him. It had been too long since you did and while you’d spent plenty of nights thinking about it, you were almost scared to try. Maybe that’s why you’d been welcoming every distraction. Don’t know if you were ready to be split open again.

Though, right now you’re not really sure you had much of a choice. Not with the hunger in his eyes. You’d denied him for far too long.

He started kissing down your body. Bringing your legs up so that he could get situated between your thighs. Knew he finally had you right where he wanted you.

“Chris,” you cried, hands going to your hair as he started licking you up. Wanted to get you properly wet first. Had to so you could take him properly. He knew as soon as he slid in there was no way he was holding back.

He peeked up at you, watching your face screw all up before throwing your head back. Moaning his name and moving your hips. Chris put his hands on your thighs, holding you down. Had you right where he wanted you and he wasn’t about to let you fuck that up.

“You’re gonna make me-,” you stopped with a gasp, “Christopher!” You breathed. “Shit, Chris. Fuck. Chris!” Eyes rolling back as it finally happened, juices cascaded into his mouth. “Ugh!”

Seeing you like this, fuck he couldn’t wait anymore. Needed to be inside of you now. As he kissed up your body, he hoped to leave a few hickies in his wake. Getting to your lips and making sure his kiss was deep.

Pushing your legs apart with his knees as he got situated between you. Pinning your hands down with his as he used his hips to guide his dick towards your entrance. “Fuck!” You gasped as he pushed the tip in. Head going back into the pillow underneath. A furrow creasing in your brow as you looked down between you.

Chris put his hand under your chin so you had to move your face back up. Eyes locked into each other. Licking your lips as your words had been caught in your throat as he went in deeper. Almost not even wanting to give you time to adjust, but this was your first time in a long time.

Unlike the real first time, it was just the two of you. Sure that’s how things had ended up anyway after Britt realized he’d never been like that with her. He’d wanted to feel bad about it, but hell it’s not like she hadn’t put him in that position in the first place. Literally. If she hadn’t been bugging you, you wouldn’t have ended up under him. Taking him in a way she never did.

Sure he tried to hold on for old times sake, but after he found out how she’d been it was hard for him to look past it. What did he look like dating a fucking bully. If anything he kind of owed you for all the shit you put up with. Not that you clearly had any problem with fighting back. Fuck that shit was so sexy.

Chris kissed your neck, listening to you moan as he thrusted his hips. Fuck you felt better than he remembered. Not like those same thoughts weren’t crossing your mind. Couldn’t believe you were like this after that time apart.

Had been so sure you could move on and you wanted to. Really did. Except he kept creeping into your head. Thinking about him like this. The way he fucked you like he owned your pussy and to be honest, he did. Even when you were broken up.

At this point everything between you had been an open secret in your frat. Hell, even when you tried to flirt with Preston he laughed and said he didn’t want to get punched for fucking around with you.

Didn’t even want to try being with someone else. How could you when you were pretty sure no other man could fuck you like this. He’d officially ruined you.

“Harder,” you whined into his ear, clawing at his back. Had been trying to be close to you, but fuck it. He missed you for a reason. The nice and tender shit was cute, but it had been too goddamn long.

Chris flipped you over to grab you by your hips. Making sure your ass was in the air right where he wanted it. You braced yourself as you felt him guide into you again. Squeezing your eyes shut as he bottomed out. Body trembling as you forced yourself to take his dick. “Fuck!” You sobbed into the sheets.

He rolled his hips just now he knew you liked. Exactly how he’d been thinking about. Looking down to see the way you’d started to cream around him.

Trying to give you exactly what you asked for. “You’re- you’re gonna- you’re- I’m gonna fucking cum, Chris!” You looked back at him. One of your hands going to your breasts as you played with your nipples. The extra stimulation making you clench around him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he groaned, slapping your ass. “Fucking cum for me. I want everyone in the house to hear that we’re back together. Cum for me. Want you to scream my name.”

“Chris!” You sobbed just like he wanted you to, ass shaking as you did as you were told. There’s his fucking girl. Fuck he missed you.

Lowering yourself as it became harder for you to hold yourself up. Only for him to go with you. Covering your body with his as he didn’t stop rocking into you.

Coming up to wrap a bicep around your neck. His other arm wrapping around you. Couldn’t stop himself as he manhandled you.

“Feel so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear. Nose pressed up against the side of your face.

“Chris, I- ugh you’re gonna make me cum again!” You mewled. “Fuck I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, half wanting to stop to turn you over but not wanting to stop because he wanted to cum. He’s not really sure he had much of a choice anyway. Hips starting to stutter along.

You were just so fucking tight around him. Especially when you were ready to cum. “Fuuuuuuck, Baby,” he groaned. “Feel so fucking- you’re gonna make me- fuck!” He groaned as he did it. Unloading inside of you. Not giving a fuck about protection or anything. Not like he ever did.

Sure the two of you should be more careful, but he can’t bring himself to actually care too. Would it be the worst thing in the world if you were stuck with him? Not for him at least. You were his for the the rest of his life as far as he was concerned.

Chris didn’t move an inch to get off of you. Trying to not put all his weight on you, but at the same time he could melt. Can’t believe it’d taken him so long to get back here.

All while you clung to him. Almost like you were afraid he’d float away. As if he’d go anywhere. Chris didn’t even want to move a muscle until he rolled over so he could pull you into him.

“I love you, Baby,” he whispered, into your hair. Ready to fall asleep as you whispered back to him. Half asleep and drunk on love. Knowing the two of you were finally right where you were supposed to be. Together.

#fics by AFBH #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x black!reader

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pedrointofolklore · 1 year ago

Text

This is me trying

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.

warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.

Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.

You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you.

Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.

You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.

Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.

And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.

Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.

“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.

You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.

Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.

He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.

“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.

“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”

“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”

Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”

“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”

“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”

If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.

It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.

You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.

You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.

Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.

Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.

Until it didn’t.

Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Wyoming.

You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.

None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.

You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.

So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.

You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.

Joel didn’t hate you.

He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.

There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.

Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.

He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.

It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.

Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.

His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.

Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.

He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.

“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.

“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.

“I just told you I’m fine.”

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.

Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“

“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”

Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”

“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"

“Either, I guess.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.

Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.

But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.

“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.

“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Just need to know where you are.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.

He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.

It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.

You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours.

He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.

Fuck.

You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated.

You didn’t hate him.

You kissed the man who hated you.

He didn’t hate you.

You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.

You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”

Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.

“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.

“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.

“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”

You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.

“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”

You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.

His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Do you have me?” he asked.

“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.

“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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joelsdagger · 6 months ago

Text

masterlist

my blog is 18+. minors–please do not interact.

do not copy or translate my writing. i do not consent that my writing be used to create ai chat bots or fed to ai in any capacity.

game joel til the day i die. not running a tag list but follow @joelsdaggerupdates for notifs on when i post fic!

note: any moodboards/visuals that depict specific features are purely for aesthetic purposes only. all reader inserts are yours to conjure up. please heed the warnings on each fic and be mindful of the content you consume.

ao3 if that's your preferred poison.

joel miller – the last of us

- one shots -

➳ all the things i would do [jackson!joel] - joel finds an article of clothing that belongs to you and there’s nothing holding him back once he gets his hands on them.

➳ talking body [jackson!joel x curvy reader] - joel doesn’t hesitate to show you just how crazy he is about you.

➳ intermission [daddy!joel, no outbreak/modern au] - movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan. or, joel fucks your mouth while you're sleeping. [tw ddlg] [tw dubcon]

➳ walk the line [boston qz!joel] - you and joel have a deal: sex in exchange for supplies. no questions asked. so what happens when you do? or, joel fucks you while you're in a headlock. [tw dark!joel] [tw dubcon/possible noncon]

➳ only then, i am good [daddy jackson!joel] - you have a bad day in which it makes you question your worth. only joel can make you see the truth. [tw ddlg] [tw dubcon]

➳ 'tis the season [dbf!joel] - you’re back in town for christmas, and it’s been months since you’ve seen your boyfriend, joel miller. and he decides to make the most of the brief window of time you have together. or, joel fucks you after taking viagra.

- mini series -

➳ that’s the way road dogs do it [ex bf’s dad!joel, no outbreak/modern au] - on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past. part one || part two [tw dubcon]

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #masterlist

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peachhcs · 7 months ago

Note

his eyes bounced down to a reply in the thread that linked the video footage of the hit. the blonde clicked into the 20 second video where he watched the girl from the other team plow into samy sending her straight to the ground. he watched her lay there without getting up until her teammates began crowding her.

Considering it's an away game, a concerning amount of the umich hockey team are in the stands, loosing it

There are also three very concerned hughes brothers scattered across the country watching

part 3!

part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

"what the fuck!" ethan yelled as soon as samy hit the ground. the others around him began mumbling in disbelief, waiting for the ref to throw up a red card.

"that was illegal!" mark yelled right alongside the brunette. the two stood there in disbelief and worry that samy hadn't gotten up yet.

"shit, is she okay?" gavin wondered while almost the entire team's gaze never left the girl down on the field.

"she's not getting up," gabe mumbled from beside the older boys.

"shit, come on samy. get up, get up," ethan mumbled under his breath.

by that time, the coach and athletic trainers were on the field with her. no one could see the brunette because of everyone's bodies hiding her from the stands and the other players. there was still nothing from the refs either.

"that was a fucking card! where's the card!" ryan yelled which got boston's side going because they didn't get why a bc kid was cheering for a umich kid.

"why the fuck are you cheering for the other team?" some stranger yelled over at the boys' section.

"fuck off! she just got hurt!" mark yelled back which shut that other person up fairly quickly.

meanwhile, jack and luke watched the live stream from the comfort of their couch, mouths wide open waiting for their baby sister to get back up.

"why isn't she getting up?" jack muttered.

"the other team hit right into her. they haven't even given a card yet!" luke exclaimed and quickly went to his phone to get any updates from their parents that were there.

ellen picked up on the third ring.

"mom, what the hell's happening? is she okay?" luke put the call on speaker so jack could listen in.

"they're still looking at her on the field right now. the guys aren't too happy about it," the older woman explained.

"why haven't they given that other girl a red card? that was an illegal hit. she did that on purpose," luke continued in frustration.

"the refs are ignoring the stands as they watch the replay," ellen said.

"watch the replay? did they not see that girl hit samy purposefully??" jack rolled his eyes.

"hold on, quinn's calling now too. i'm adding him to this call," a second later, quinn joined.

"you're on the call with luke and jack, too," ellen said to her sons.

"what's going on with this play? the live stream stopped showing what's happening?" quinn urged for some answers.

"they're still looking at her. she took a really hard hit. it looks like her shoulder."

"shit. if it's her shoulder, she's not gonna be able to play or they won't want her to," jack hummed and he knew that would piss samy off because she hated being out of the game.

"wait, she's getting up. your father and i are gonna go down and meet her. we'll call you guys back," ellen hurried out before hanging up.

people in the stands began clapping once samy was up, glad she was okay enough to walk. ethan and mark exchanged a glance watching samy walk back through the tunnel with the trainers. they had a huge ice pack wrapped around her right shoulder.

"fuck, that doesn't look good," gavin muttered.

"wait, the refs are coming back out," ethan nudged the guys' arms as they anxiously awaited what the card would be.

the ref held out a yellow card—a warning.

"what the fuck! that was red card!" ethan immediately yelled, not caring if he got kicked out of the game.

"no fucking way. they're blind!" ryan exclaimed as well.

the refs didn't say anything else and the game continued on without samy while the twitter headlines started breaking about the hit.

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

Text

The Menu | Part 1

“Vices to fill a Void”

A/N: so I decided this is gonna be a two-parter because if theres one thing I’m good at, it’s edging my dear readers ;)

~word count: 3.4k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel Miller has a menu concocted just for his customers. Pills? He’s got ‘em. Guns? Ammo? Name your price. Booze to warm the broken souls and hearts of the QZ? give him a holler. Everything comes with a price, of course. Joels got somethin’ special on his menu. Somethin’ that he doesn’t advertise freely. Y’gotta want it. Y’gotta have a desire that matches his own, only then will he offer what you seek.

Warnings: dark themes, two feral cats energy, mentions of deceased bodies, Joel is an asshole that knows how to get exactly what he wants. Dark! Joel, post!outbreak, Joel and Tess run the black market in the QZ, age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her late 20’s, mentions of drugs, smoking, alcohol, graphic depictions of violence, reader is a spitfire with a no-shit taking attitude, enemies to lovers type beat, Joel likes to play mind games, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, +18 minors dni!

The first time you meet the infamous Joel Miller is in his and Tess’s apartment in one of the few available Boston QZ apartments. Rumor on the street is that Joel and Tess are an item. When in all actuality, they’re business partners that occasionally fuck. His options, however, are not just limited to Tess. He likes to keep that part of his business on the low. He’s got a reputation, sure. But he doesn’t boast it proudly like a peacock. He knows his expertise, and he knows it well. His purpose in the structure of the QZ was smuggling. He’d bring pills, booze, ammo, guns, and anything else that was desirable. He’d trade for ration cards; a hefty amount of them. Sometimes, he’d allow his customers to trade their bodies, but he was quite picky, and it ain’t had anything to do with women’s appearances. In that department, he indulged in all body types. What he was most intrigued about was their minds. Their ability to survive, and most importantly, what they desired most in this shit-hole world.

He liked it when they were verbal. Silence was not a name in his game. He liked it when they showed up at his doorstep knowing exactly what it was that they wanted from him. He could play all the cards, and he played them well. He could be empathetic if they asked for it. He could pretend to love them just for the night. He could yank their hair, dig his nails into their flesh and call them a dirty, useless whore, but only if it was requested. See, he wasn’t all that brutal of a man, but if you weren’t careful and direct, he might send you home with more than just an ache between your thighs. He knew how to fuck, and he enjoyed it almost as much as he enjoyed beating a man senseless, almost.

You, however, held no interest to know what laid beneath his weathered jeans. You showed up wanting one thing, and one thing only. A vice to fill the hole in the void of your heart. You knew that Joel Miller’s menu was just what the doctor ordered.

Tess and Joel were seated at the kitchen table going through their supplies for the day. They had their usual customers, but Joel was always intrigued to see new faces walk through his door.

A cigarette dangled between his lips as he flipped through a stack of ration cards. The scent of tobacco wafted through the cracks in the door frame as your knuckles rapped firmly along the chipped paint. You knocked once, then twice five seconds later. It was customary like a code. Not that Joel or Tess had any concerns with FEDRA; they were a part of his regular cycle of customers too.

“Come in.” His voice was thick, deep, and dripping with authority.

The tip of the cigarette glowed bright orange as he inhaled the toxic fumes. The nicotine that coursed through his system calmed his nerves. Everyone had their own skeletons in their closets after all.

He paused his counting momentarily as he listened to the door handle squeak before it was pushed open.

“Sit.” He rasped with his freehand gesturing to the open seat in front of the table. “State your business.”

You watched the way the smoke coiled around his head like an ashy halo through the stagnant air. His brow cocked in your direction as his eyes zoned in on the stack of ration cards that you pulled from your jacket pocket.

“I was told that your menu is designed to cater to one's vices. I’m needin’ a bottle of booze, and a pack of smokes if you got any.” You placed the ration cards along the table before leaning back against the chairs frame.

“We ain’t got a whole pack, unfortunately. Five cards gets you five sticks, and three gets ya a bottle of hooch.” He declared in his warm Texas twang.

He was handsome, you’d give him that satisfaction only.

“I’ve got ten cards total. How about you throw’n two more smokes to make it even?” You countered smoothly as you crossed your arms against your chest.

“A negotiator, huh? Well, I'll tell ya what, girlie. Y’got yourself a deal. Y’new around here? Ain’t seen ya before.” He knew pretty much every face in the QZ. But yours remained a mystery. He wasn’t all too big of a fan of mysteries.

“Don’t think that is any of your concern, Joel.” You ignored his question as you passed off the cards.

“True.” He mused with a grin tugging across his lips. ‘S’alright. I’ll jus’ end up findin’ out about you in my own way.” He shrugged with the utmost casualness that sent your blood boiling under the surface. “Besides, my customers always end up comin’ back for more.” He grabbed a bottle of hooch and seven freshly rolled cigarettes concealed in tinfoil.

“There ain’t much for you to find out. Wouldn’t go wastin’ your time.” You grabbed the bottle swiftly before tucking it into the inner lining of your jacket. Before he could send you on your way, however, you unrolled the tinfoil to inspect the handiwork. Once you were satisfied with the merch, you plucked one of the cigarettes and placed it between your lips. “You got a light I can borrow?”

His nose twitched and his eyes squinted tightly before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He beckoned you silently to lean in as he ignited the flame.

“Y’know, these are a nasty habit to break.” He leaned back into his chair with his own cigarette dying between his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ like a good ole’ fashioned nicotine addiction.”

You scoffed under your breath as you took a deep inhale of the cancerous smoke that filled your lungs. “Says the man puffin’ away on one right in front of my face.”

He didn’t even look half fazed by your remark as he blew the smoke drifting from his lips off to the side.

You stared at one another a second longer before you stood up from your chair and snatched the cigarettes from the table.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Joel Miller. See ya around.”

Before he could respond, you were already slipping back out his apartment door and into the hallway.

“Man, she’s got a pair of balls on her, huh?” Tess mused from her seat alongside him.

“Yeah,” He smirked. “She sure does.”

The next time you saw Joel Miller was a few weeks later. You were assigned with assisting in dumping deceased infected into the deep pits where their flesh would be burned and melted away and all that would be remaining was their brittle bones. You had done this job enough times to get used to the putrid stench of rotting flesh. Others, however, couldn’t stand the smell. Some would pass out, others would empty what little was in their stomachs.

A denim-clad shoulder brushed against you as you lifted another body from the truck bed.

“Fancy seein’ you here, Angel.” Joel’s voice was muffled through the bandana he wore across his face, but you knew it was him just from that Texas twang of his.

Your eyes rolled back as walked past him and dropped the body into the flames that engulfed it.

“C’mon now.” He mused. “I know y’heard me.” He pressed.

“Fuck off, Joel.” You muttered under your breath as you bumped his shoulder harshly.

“Y’break that nasty habit yet?” He asked with a twinge of curiosity.

“Nope. Don’t plan on it either.”

Much to your relief, he walked away without speaking another word. It was short-lived however as he was standing right behind you in line to receive your ration cards for the day. The air was hot and almost unbearable as you wiped the sweat of your brow along your sleeve. When the cards were placed into your outstretched palm you shoved them deep into your pocket. The pay wasn’t worth the work that you put in.

Before you could disappear around the corner of the alley to head home, a hand grasped your shoulder rather firmly and before you could reach for your concealed weapon, your back was met with something hard that nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

Joel Miller.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doin’, Joel?!” You hissed under your breath as he flipped you around to face him.

“Got a proposition for ya, girlie. Trust me, you’ll want in.” His voice dipped down an octave as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of pills. Painkillers you suspected. The kind of shit that people could easily find themselves getting addicted to.

“And what makes you fuckin’ think that I would wanna do anythin’ for you?” What the fuck was this guys problem? The nerve he had.

“Cus’ I know there’s somethin’ that you want. Somethin’ that you need. Besides, you ain’t gonna make it long here if you don’t start usin’ people. S’the only way to survive in this world now. So, here’s what you’re gonna do. Tess and I wanna branch out further and in order to do that, we gotta get the rest of FEDRA off our backs.”

“You ain’t know shit about me, Joel. I’m doin’ just fine on my own.” You ripped your arm from his grasp, but he was quicker than you expected.

“I ain’t askin’ you, Angel. I’m tellin.’ Now, you’re gonna take these pills, and you’re gonna go on over to those guys o’there, and you’re gonna trade them. Y’get half the ration cards from the deal. Seem fair?” His tall stature loomed over you like a shadow being casted across the sun. Everything about this man was massive. His hands. His bulging arms. His shoulders. He was built like a fucking fridge, and he clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Is this what you do to all of your customers? Corner them into alleys and force them to do your dirty work for you?” You scoffed as you ripped the baggy from his hand. “And I get all the cards. I ain’t gonna let you just go and boss me around for half.”

“Jus’ the pretty ones that have a mouth to ‘em.” He mused with a wicked grin. “Fine. Y’get all the cards, but only if they agree to trade. Go on now, Angel. Time's a tickin away.” He nudged you forward with the palm of his calloused hand resting along your lower back.

“Asshole.” You hissed under your breath as you stashed the pills into your pocket before departing from the alley. If there was one thing you were good at, it was getting men to give you exactly what you wanted. You could flutter your lashes, giggle, flirt a little and their little egos would be crushed to dust beneath your fingertips.

“Hey boys, got a minute?” You spoke in a honeyed voice as the three officers diverted their attention towards you.

Joel watched from the shadows of the alley as you worked your charm like a fiddle. He was impressed with your natural skills. You certainly were no pushover. He did wonder if this was all a facade that you wore confidently. He thought briefly about what it would be like to have you beneath his sheets. What would you request from him? Would you ask him to be sweet and gentle? To fuck you like a man oughta? Or, would you be willing to share your deepest, darkest, filthy desires with him? He hoped for the latter.

When the deal was done, you made your way back across the street. Maybe Joel Miller was right. Maybe you should start using people for what they have. Who gave a fuck about morale anyway?

“How’d it go?” he inquired with his broad arms crossed against his chest as he leaned back against the brick wall.

“They wouldn’t take the bait unfortunately.” You let out a faux sigh. “Guess the deal is off.”

“What a shame, Angel. I surely thought you had it in ya. Guess I was wrong. Oh well. Good luck to ya.” He pushed himself off the wall only to find himself being pushed right up against it. Your palm lay flat against his chest as your freehand reached into your pocket and pulled out a single ration card.

His brow raised curiously as you went to slip the card into his back pocket. His eyes widened when he felt the warmth of your fingers searing through his jeans. At this close proximity, he got a proper whiff of your natural scent, and his cock pathetically twitched in the tight confines of the denim.

“Here’s your half of the deal. Decided to be generous.” You whispered through the thick growing tension.

His hand reached up to grab your wrist but before he could make contact with your skin, you were already stepping away from his reach. Your fingers rose in a mock salute before you turned on your heel and walked away.

Fuck. She’s perfect.

The next time Joel Miller saw you it's past curfew. Hours to be exact. The Boston QZ streets are quiet sans the labored breathing and deep grunts coming from a group of low-life scumbags.

“I already told you, I don’t have shit on me!” You emptied out your pockets to show these fuckers that you weren’t messing around. Would raw honesty really keep these men from tearing you apart?

“Bullshit. Y’got stuff back at your place, right? C’mon now darlin’, don’t lie to us. We’ve seen you hangin’ around Miller. Y’workin’ with him?” The man that had you pinned against the brick wall pressed further.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Are y’all really that boneheaded to think that i’m gonna be carryin’ merch on me out in the open like this?!” You yelled out of frustration as you tried to pin your wrists free to reach your concealed knife.

“How about you shut the fuck up and tell us where Joel’s apartment is, and we won’t have to kill you. How’s that sound?” The man twisted your wrists tightly to the point where you were just waiting to hear a sickening crack.

“I don’t know where his apartment is, asshole. And even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you because i’m not a fuckin’ rat!” You hissed between your gritted teeth as you threw your head back in one swift movement right into the face of the man that was holding you hostage. His nose crunched audibly from the force as he stumbled back right onto his ass.

Blood pooled and gushed down his lips as he yelled out a slew of profanities in your direction. Just as you were reaching for your knife, it was knocked from your grasp and clattered to the concrete out of your reach.

A fist collided with your face that sent you slamming into the brick wall with your ears wildly ringing.

You detected a familiar voice through your half-conscious haze as you slumped down to the ground with a labored wheeze.

A sickening crunch, followed by a strangled yell as Joel had one of the men in a headlock. Their body dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks. Eyes forever unmoving. The man that you headbutted was desperately trying to crawl away as Joel staggered after him. He bent down, grasping the hilt of your knife in his calloused palm.

His pupils were dark like a never ending black pit as he sent his steel-toed boot colliding into his gut over and over again. The man’s wails died in his throat as Joel flipped him over onto his back and slit his throat with one fatal swipe. Blood spurted from the entry wound and speckled Joel’s skin in a spray of crimson.

The third man almost got away, but Joel fired a bullet right into his spine without a second thought.

He focused his attention on you as he crouched down, knife still in his grasp, dripping with blood onto the pavement. His freehand grasped your face gently as he assessed your injuries. His good ear detected the sound of tires crunching under gravel; FEDRA.

“Angel, we need to go. We need to move. NOW.” He spoke urgently as he tucked your knife away before placing that hand along your shoulder. “FEDRA is gonna be here any minute, and I don’t know about you, but my ass is NOT bein’ thrown in lockup!”

When you didn’t immediately respond to his dire request, he took matters into his own hands, literally. You felt his strong arms lift you from the ground as if you weighed nothing. He left the crime scene in a flash. He was speaking to you, but you couldn’t detect his words as his mouth was moving too fast.

The last thing you remembered seeing was his dark, espresso brown eyes, and his blood spattered skin.

“Need’ya to open your eyes for me, sweetheart. C’mon. Guy knocked ya pretty good, but you’ll live.” Joel murmured close to your face as you were coming to.

What the fuck.

Your lashes fluttered for a moment and then snapped open. Despite the ache in your face from being punched, and the pounding in your skull, you immediately shot your hands upwards and shoved harshly at his broad chest.

“Joel?! What the actual fuck–”

“Ah, there she is. The sleepin’ beauty awakes, finally!” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat as he moves off the couch to give you space to breathe.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Joel?”

“Wow.” He tuts under his breath dissaprovingly. “Can’t even get a thank you for savin’ your fuckin’ life?”

“I had the situation handled on my own. What the hell were you doin’ out past curfew anyway?” You sat up a little too fast as blood rushed to your head.

His strong hands were gently easing you back down to a lying position before he was backing off again.

“Easy now, Angel. I wouldn’t sit up a’that fast if I were you.” He warned you sternly.

“Well, good thing you aren’t me, huh?” You snapped back as you swung your legs over the side of the couch.

This time he was more forceful in his actions as his hands pressed down on your shoulders firmly. “I said, stay put. God, can’t you jus’ fuckin’ listen to me when I tell ya to take it easy? You’re gonna bust your nose back open, and the stitches on the back of your head. Just chill the fuck out.” You could taste his hot breath on his tongue and feel his pulse quicken. The bulging veins in his neck protruded through the thin skin.

You swallowed harshly as your gaze wavered along the remnants of blood on his skin. Why didn’t he bother to wash it off? You couldn't help but wonder.

“I didn’t fuckin’ need your help, Joel. And you still haven’t answered my previous question either.”

He rolled his eyes before he lifted his hands from your shoulders and stalked away into the kitchen. You heard him grumbling under his breath as he slammed open a cabinet door that was already hanging by the hinges on its last legs.

“Oh, I see. So you’re just gonna ignore me now? Y’know, its fuckin’ rude to not answer someone when they ask you a question, Joel.” You muttered mostly to yourself, but you secretly had hoped that he heard you too.

Two semi-cleaned glasses were yanked from the sink and lifted from their rims as Joel swiped up a bottle of whiskey before stalking back over to the couch. He slammed the glasses down on the faded coffee table before popping the cap off with his teeth.

You were infuriating. Disrespectful. And he wanted nothing more than to put you right back into your fucking place. He however, refrained from doing so and instead poured a large splash of amber liquor into both glasses.

“Y’know, Angel. One day that mouth of yours is gonna send ya six feet under.” He stated firmly as he picked up his glass, swirled the liquor around before throwing it down his throat in one gulp.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you glared at him from the couch. You reached for your own glass as you slowly sat up. He was pouring himself another when you downed the liquor without a fuss.

“I am well aware of that, Joel.” You deadpanned and he poured you another.

“Good, that’s real good, Angel. S’then it should come as no surprise to you that I think you’re a fuckin’ disrespectful brat.” He rasped low and deep as his words rumbled like an oncoming storm.

The tension in the room was palpable as you stared one another down. Two predators with sharpened claws ready to strike.

______

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