#because he wants to be able to help Ellie and others | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flamingpudding · 3 months

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I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.

Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.

Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.

Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.

Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!

Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.

Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.

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Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.

"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"

It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.

So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.

Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.

Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.

He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.

Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"

Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.

The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.

"Kla-"

"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."

Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."

Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.

"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"

"Look at these snacks."

"These accessories don't look to bad..."

His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"

The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.

"My mom is planning to visit me."

"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.

"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."

They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.

"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.

"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"

"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.

Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.

They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.

All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.

"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"

"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.

Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....

"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.

"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.

"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."

"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"

Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.

Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...

Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.

"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.

Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.

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duke-daemon · 3 months

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hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo

okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3

just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.

hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.

now for the characters!

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VAGGIE VALTIEL:

starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.

CHARLIE:

next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!

the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition

tangent time!

as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)

back to the characters

Alastor:

note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning

with that being said...

alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does

(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)

Angel Dust:

TW: brief discussion of SA

this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.

i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.

LUTE:

so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...

with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties

i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.

Adam + Final Thoughts

i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell

final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios

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familyvideostevie · 3 months

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it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.

You’ve only been open for two hours.

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.

Your coffee shop.

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired.

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.

You laugh. Joel looks pleased.

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him?

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

Joel stops by again.

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying.

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.

“I’m honored,” he says.

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash.

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.

He smirks. “Miss me?”

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags.

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.”

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.

They both wave at you as they drive away.

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted.

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.

And you still barely know him. But you want to.

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says.

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.”

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says.

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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savannahsdeath · 5 months

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thinking about dealer!ellie, but not the college-little one . . . one, that an innocent girl like you sees on a dark alley and she can't help but instinctively start walking faster. yet, it turns out, she's really a sweetheart when you give her a chance <3

warnings: daddy issues kinda ?? ellie can seem creepy at first but i swear she's not .. thats all for now

you explored the darkest part of the city, the moonlight not brightening your way at all. you felt lost.

you always defined yourself as fatherless, it was the easiest way to explain the lack of a parent — people thought he died and didn't pursue the topic. after some time passed, you started believing your own lie. deep down, in a strangled part of your brain, you knew he's alive and well. but on the other hand, he wasn't — not for you, not in your life. why would he matter?

until he contacted you. he didn't show up in person, what at first made you think that he's... well, a pussy. but you soon realised it's actually analytical and mindful of him. you could act on impulse, say or do something bad. seeing him for the first time won't be easy. he gave you some time to think, so your emotions didn't get between both of you, and couldn't ruin your relationship from the beginning.

but he could at least leave you his phone number instead of the most complicated address, consisting of, not to be dramatic but, like a hundred numbers.

"can i help you?" you heard a feminine, yet hard and raspy voice.

the unforeseen sound made you jump, your heart beating like a little bird trapped in a cage, trying to get out of your chest. you couldn't let her notice how scared you were, though. you crumpled the letter in your sweaty hand. the yellowish paper felt humid, probably soaking wet from your moist skin.

"i don't think so." your voice trembled with the first vowel but you managed to regain your unbothered, callous posture right after.

"this..." she gestured at the ground and area around you — dark buildings that looked empty, yet you felt watched, in plain sight. "this is a bad place for girls like you."

you nervously cleared your throat, deciding to ignore her opinion, and continued on walking. but you could still hear her echoing footsteps.

"i think that— you shouldn't be there. and you don't want to be there." she crossed her arms.

once you gave up and turned around, you were left surprised by how pretty she was. your expectations were— well, on a way lower level. she looked masculine and you could see the curves of her muscles through her clothes, yet you weren't feeling precarious nor apprehensive by her presence anymore.

"actually," she continued, "i know that. it's painted all over your face. one glance in your direction and i already sense the discomfort."

you sharply inhaled, the air hissing in your nostrils as you mumbled an annoyed "god" under your breath. "are you always like that?"

"no." she shook her head and pursed her lips in a thin line, before realising what you meant and chuckling. "not at all. but you should be fuckin' thankful." she untangled her arms and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "c'mon, what are you looking for?"

you pinched your nose bridge and closed your eyes with a huff, because why did she have to be so damn persistent and perpetual? but she seemed able to help you, so in a slightly complaining—dissenting tone you murmured your father's name.

and her stubborn smirk faded, her gaze shifted between you and the letter in your hand. "who are you?" she asked, emphasizing each syllable, as if she was talking to a child.

you were dubious and skeptical on what you should say nor should you admit the truth, you just shrugged. a hesitant, mistrustful raise of your shoulders, which even deepened the girl's frown, knitting her eyebrows together. "i dunno..."

"you can't be a sluuu— sorry, a prostitute" she thought aloud, actually considering this option.

"why?" your expression glowered as you scowled. oh, so your father is associated with call girls, how nice! "don't answer. whatever. just— take me to him."

"i can't." she defensively raised her hands. "you could be a... fuck, i don't know, a spy or something!"

"don't be stupid" you scoffed and couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i'm his daughter."

she gulped and her eyes widened. "daughter?..."

✧˖°

PART 2 IS OUT !!

#tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x female reader

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bluebeary-jay · 5 months

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Hold me close and hold me fast

Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!

Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️

Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.

But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.

“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”

He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.

He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.

“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”

Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.

“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”

“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.

“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”

“Get lost, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”

“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”

That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.

“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”

“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”

“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”

“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”

He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.

Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.

Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.

No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…

He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.

He did. In theory.

So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.

But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.

Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.

“You’re quiet.”

Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.

“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”

“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Listen here, you little tease…”

A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.

But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.

An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.

Not that he minded.

There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.

Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.

“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”

There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.

You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”

“Joel…”

The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”

“Joel.”

No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.

“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”

Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.

“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”

“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”

“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”

“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”

“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”

“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”

He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.

But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.

“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”

“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”

Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”

“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”

Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.

It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.

“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”

“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.

You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.

“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.

“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”

You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.

So, so loving.

Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.

There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.

#space sisters secret santa 2023 #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you

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hazelnutsforellie · 1 year

Text

sex, drugs, etc. | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— your dealer and friend, ellie, becomes jealous when she learns you you were around someone she doesn't want near you.

WARNINGS— smut [18+], language, mention of depression, sexual tension, jealous/protective ellie, shy reader, marijuana use, mutual pining, sex while high, switch!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering (r rec), oral (e rec), thigh riding, scissoring, praise, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), choking, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, multi-orgasm [2], ellie is slightly toxic but i like it, not proofread.

WC— 6.5k ...i got carried away

AUTHOR'S NOTE— i wanted to stray away from doing modern!ellie and make it more difficult for myself?? lmfao. pls feel free to send requests and/or feedback!! anyway stream sex, drugs, etc. by beach weather i'm too lazy to get a link xx

special tags for jen and eden (@evanpetersluver / @kurosaaki) mwah enjoy ♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A sigh blew from your nose as you watched Dina pass the blunt to her friend Jason, your right knee bouncing repeatedly. You were sitting on Dina's bed in her bedroom, smoking with her and three of her friends, secretly wishing you could be with Ellie sooner. You weren't too familiar with Dina's crew. Sure, you knew them, but you weren't close with them like you were with Ellie and Dina. You didn't mind them, though.

"Oh, I'm good," you said, holding your hand out to reject the blunt that Jason was offering to you. You had already taken a few hits, and you could feel the leftover burn in your throat from the smoke. "I'm meeting up with Ellie soon."

Ellie, your dealer, always smokes you up with her personal stash whenever you visit her, and you did not want to show up too stoned.

You were a shy girl that Ellie practically took under her wing. Because of Ellie's personality, you were able to slightly break out of your shell and meet more people like yourself that you enjoyed being around, such as Dina. Dina and Ellie were friends, mainly because Dina buys from her, but they weren't as close as Ellie was with you.

You had been friends with Ellie for a short while. After you became friends, you opened up during a session that you were going through a tough breakup, and were having trouble with confidence. Ellie helped you regain that confidence, frequently reminding you that you were special.

Both of you knew your friendship was flirtatious, despite you wanting to deny it to yourself. Yes, you had a crush on your dealer, who then turned into your friend after she took a liking toward you. She thought you were sweet, cute, genuine, and more. Despite her cold persona, she was soft toward you. You were different, and despite knowing of said crush, Ellie ignored it.

"I just saw her earlier," Dina noted with a smile, taking a seat beside you on the edge of her bed. Ellie was off doing deliveries, and told you that you could go to her house at sunset. You listened as Dina's friends began making light conversation, talking about topics you weren't interested in. Then, you heard your name.

"Hm?" you hummed, raising your head to meet the eyes of Jason.

"You said you're seeing Ellie later, right?" He asked, to which you nodded, looking up at him while he sat in Dina's desk chair. Dina's friends were spread about the room, just having casual conversation. "I might stop by to reup, maybe you'll be there."

"Maybe," you nodded with a cute smile, not intending to come off in any way other than kind. You were quiet, but naturally flirtatious.

To your relief, you could see the sun beginning to pierce through Dina's bedroom window, insinuating that it was almost time for you to leave.

As you made your way to Ellie's front door, the snow crunching beneath your feet and your gentle humming was all that could be heard besides the sounds of the town. Your knuckles gently bounced off the metal door, your entire body shivering as the cool air was quickly consuming you.

The door opened to reveal none other than Ellie herself, her eyes meeting yours. You noted how the white reflection of the outdoors brightened her eyes. You could get lost in them any time, admiring the way they shine when the light hits them.

"Hey, perfect timing. I've got just enough for you," Ellie said with her usual smile that made your cheeks warm.

She opened the door wider to invite you inside, away from the brisk weather, to which you hurriedly accepted. Barely making it inside, you had already tracked snow just past the door before you could take your shoes off.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you sighed, kicking your boots off near the door. Ellie was only a foot away from you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off her.

"Don't worry about it," Ellie waved it off, closing the door behind you before making her way over to her desk, where she already had her things ready to smoke with you. She collected her things, bringing them to the coffee table in front of her couch as you made yourself comfortable on it.

You knew the drill. Every time you buy from Ellie, you share one or two blunts and just enjoy each other's company.

"Here," Ellie quickly piped, grabbing a few blankets off the upper back part of the couch and covering you with them as you tucked them into every crevice you could. Ellie's simple gestures were a large portion of the reason why you gravitated toward her. The blankets were thin, but you were thankful that she had multiple.

Despite being fully aware of the weather, your stubborn self still left your place in jeans and a hoodie, and you were surprised that Ellie wasn't reprimanding you for risking a cold.

"I just got back from the store for wraps," Ellie explained as she pulled something from her back pocket, tossing enclosed blunt wraps you were about to use onto your lap as she sat beside you. "Can you open it for me?"

Ellie was lucky she found healthy plants at Eugene's to start her 'small business' in the first place during such apocalyptic times. Despite not particularly needing cash, Ellie liked trading for items she could keep or sell depending on what she needs. Her customers consist of mainly teenagers and young adults, the inhabitants of curious minds.

The older citizens of Jackson, particularly the older men, banded together to keep the town's smoke shop up and running instead of turning it into housing or a different shop. Surprisingly, they always seem to have a supply of wraps, the main popular items being cigars and cigarettes, to which Ellie would cringe at the smell when she would walk in.

You tore the package open as Ellie opened her baggie of weed, gently shaking it before pulling out a few nuggets. Your comfortable silence was soothing. You enjoyed Ellie's company, and you could feel your tensed shoulders beginning to relax the more you sat beside her.

Ellie had her elbows on her knees, manspreading to reach the coffee table. You watched as her slim fingers broke apart the nugs, her tongue poking out to wet her bottom lip in concentration. Witnessing such an act made you swallow, your eyes flickering back down to the two wraps in your hand.

"Here," you said, placing them on the coffee table beside the rest of her things.

"Should I roll two?" she asked, glancing over at you periodically as she began to gently crack open a wrap with her fingers. Having already smoked a bit prior, you figured you wouldn't need much, despite its effectiveness wearing off.

"I don't need much," you claimed, tightly wrapping the blankets around yourself. "I smoked a little while ago."

You couldn't see it, but Ellie's expression had completely faltered, curious as to who you were smoking with. Not that it was particularly her business.

"Oh, really? With who?" Ellie questioned nonchalantly as she began to pinch the weed into the wrap, having discarded the old tobacco from the wrap onto the coffee table.

"With Dina and her friends," you said with a shrug, picking at your cuticles subconsciously. Her eyes met yours easily, since you were already staring in her direction.

Ellie knew something you didn't. Earlier, when Ellie was selling to Dina, Dina mentioned something to her about you that unknowingly bothered Ellie.

Ellie didn't know how to ask you what 'her friends' meant, beginning to pinch the wrap closed. You knew what was coming next, watching as her tongue gently dipped onto the wrap to make it stick, her saliva binding it closed.

You seemed to have gotten lost in thought, mainly about her tongue, when she handed the blunt to you.

"No, you rolled," you shook your head, holding your hand out to reject her offer. It was a known practice that whoever rolls or packs gets first hit, but Ellie always tries to offer it to you first.

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully, lifting the blunt to her lips to firmly hold it while she cupped her hands around the end of it, sparking her lighter until the flame burned the tip a bright orange.

You watched Ellie's lips scrunch around the blunt as she pulled the smoke into her lungs, the tip burning brighter until it turned to ash. You wished you could just kiss her perfect, plump lips.

"I saw Dina earlier," she noted as she exhaled the smoke, offering the blunt to you. You gladly accepted, pinching it between your fingers.

"She mentioned that," you replied, lifting the blunt to your lips. "I told her I was coming to see you."

"Did she mention anything else?" Ellie's sudden question confused you. You wondered what else would she need to mention, let alone regarding Ellie.

You furrowed your brows in uncertainty, "What do you mean?"

You couldn't help it, but your intuition immediately jumped to a conclusion that was completely incorrect due to Ellie's curious, worried expression. Did something happen between them?

Sure, you had mentioned to Dina once or twice that you thought Ellie was attractive, but you never fully admitted to having feelings for her. You couldn't deny that you were an overthinker, trying to unravel Ellie's question and assume what she was thinking. You already had a leftover high when you arrived, and smoking more on top of it was a threat for overanalyzing.

Ellie was silent, wishing she just stayed quiet about the subject. She knew she had to say something, and she also knew that you could see through any lie she tried to tell you. Ellie was a good liar in general, but not with you. She rarely, if ever, had a reason to lie to you, no matter how big or small. There was no way out of it.

Dina did not like to admit that she enjoyed gossip, but she let Ellie in on a secret when she was buying from her. She told Ellie that her friend, Jason, had a plan to ask you out, unbeknownst to you. Ellie didn't like the thought at all, not because she hated the guy, but because she wanted you.

"Was Jason there?" Ellie asked, essentially ignoring your question. You were taken aback, a confused expression still plastered on your face.

"Yeah... why?" you inquired, taking another hit of the blunt before passing it back to her. Ellie accepted it from your fingers, refusing to make eye contact with you as she spoke. She was putting herself in a vulnerable position, potentially risking your friendship. She just couldn't hold herself back.

Ellie softly scoffed, too quiet for you to hear, and before she took another drag of the blunt, she muttered, "Of course he was."

Ellie's lips curled in disgust at the thought of Jason near you. Her jealousy was beginning to reveal itself, making you raise a brow and say, "He told me he might stop by. He heard me mention I was coming here."

"Oh, yeah, I'd love to see that fucker show up," Ellie sneered before shaking her head with a scoff. You were used to her language, but you couldn't ignore how genuinely angry she seemed. "He just bought from me the other day. Fucking bastard."

Before you could say anything, let alone think, she continued.

"I don't think you should hang around that guy," Ellie admitted flatly, taking another hit. The high was rushing straight to her head, allowing her to be more bold than usual.

You folded your hands in your lap, on top of the blankets, giving her a curious look. You wondered if she truly believed Jason was a bad guy, and you both knew that you would take her advice either way.

You had a lot of trust in Ellie, as she did with you. She helped pull you out of a rut and a peaceful fifty-fifty friendship emerged. She adored you, and often protected you, so her protective behavior was not a foreign thing for you.

"Why not?" you asked, starting to annoy yourself with your repetitive questions. You just wanted Ellie to spit it out, and thankfully she did.

"The jackass is into you," Ellie finally revealed, sneering at the thought of him trying to make a move on you. There was a moment of silence as you processed the new information, shrugging and barely shaking your head. You didn't care. You didn't like him back, but you had to admit it was validating.

"Does that bother you?"

Ellie was taken aback by your question. Her eyes slightly widened, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly as she passed you the blunt. Of course it bothered her, but she couldn't tell you that. Your soft, innocent voice was a pleasure to her ears. She just wanted to protect you, to claim you as her own, but what good was a depressed, helpless girl to a bright and innocent one?

"Well..." Ellie trailed off, breaking eye contact to watch your lips as you placed the blunt between them. You took another hit, nearly reaching your limit for the time being. Her eyes trailed back up to yours, which were focused on the end of the blunt as it burned. "I just don't like he's good enough for you."

"Oh... And why's that?" you probed, your eyebrows raising suggestively as you smoothly exhaled the smoke from your lungs.

Ellie sighed, leaning back against the couch with her legs remaining spread apart from her manspreading position. You felt yourself involuntarily clench around nothing, daydreaming how it would feel to sit on her lap, with her hands on your waist—

"You deserve someone... I don't know— Someone who would do anything for you. Get hurt to protect you. Make you smile, laugh. I don't know, I just don't see him doing that for you," Ellie rambled calmly, surprising you. "Not saying he doesn't want to, I wouldn't know. I just... ugh."

Ellie didn't know how to express her feelings, especially without revealing how she feels for you. She just couldn't admit to you that she wanted you for herself.

You tried to pay full attention to what she was saying, as well as her body language. You were hearing her, but you couldn't push away the indecent thoughts that were brewing. The weed wasn't helping whatsoever. The way she would use her hands as she spoke, the way she would frequently dart her tongue to wet her lips, it was getting to you.

Ellie did not realize that she was describing herself. All of the characteristics she listed had her name clearly plastered on them, in your opinion, at least.

"You're describing yourself," you murmured as you took another hit, making your own eyes slightly widen after realizing what you said. Ellie was taken aback once again, especially since you essentially called her perfect.

"What?" you laughed at Ellie's bewildered expression, your high making you giggly and smiley.

Ellie seemed relieved. Your words were music to her ears, a simple sentence that confirmed her hopes. There was something there between you, she knew that, and your words were a solid stamp of verification.

"Well... You don't have to worry, or anything," you assured as you watched Ellie take another hit, quickly becoming overheated from the layers of blankets wrapped around you. You began pushing them off your frame as you continued, "I don't like him. He's alright, but... no."

Ellie wanted to ask why, though she believed it would be pushing it. She didn't want to upset you, or make you think she was crazy.

There was still a small fact that was continuing to go unaddressed. Ellie's jealousy was as clear as crystal. Her feelings were growing just as clear, the more you thought about it. Why else would she care so much? Sure, her protective behavior was normal, but not the clear, snarky jealousy that dripped from Ellie's tongue when she sneered at the thought of him being around you.

You found it... alluring. You liked it, you had to admit. You couldn't take it. You were craving her contact, just for her to touch you. To kiss you. Oh, her lips. You wanted to know what they felt like on your own, on your skin, between your thighs. You could not focus on the conversation at hand, it was the entire reason you could feel yourself growing wet by each passing second.

"Well... that's good, then, huh?" Ellie's voice was deep, nearly making you squeeze your thighs together as you shifted in your spot so that you were facing her, while she remained in her relaxed manspreading position.

Ellie was doing no better, having the exact same thoughts as you. While you got lost in thought, her eyes danced around your face, back and forth from your lips to your hooded, pink-tinted eyes.

You couldn't stop the words from escaping your soft lips, allowing the weed to carelessly speak for you.

"Kiss me," you barely whispered, which forced her eyes to meet your own. Fuck, Ellie thought. Ellie did not even seem surprised by your words, she looked pleased. Your words were like a key, unlocking a door that Ellie thought would never open.

There was no need for you to say another word. Ellie's slim fingers found your waist, pulling you closer to her while you simultaneously grabbed both sides of her jaw, pulling her face closer to yours. You were pulling into one another, desperately wanting to your lips to meet. She was careful not to burn you with the ash of the blunt, still holding it between her fingers while she held onto you.

The kiss was just how you imagined it would be. Soft, warm, wet, full. You melted into her, your body weight holding her down as you leaned in. There was a spark of uncertainty, a sudden fear that you had just ruined your friendship, sobering you for a moment as you pulled away.

Your hands were still on her jaw, coddling her face as her hands remained on your waist, her slim fingers tightening around the cotton material of your hoodie.

Ellie's eyes darted from your lips to your eyes. When you didn't say anything, she could tell that you didn't want to stop, but that you wanted to be sure that she wanted you just as much as you wanted her.

Ellie used her grip on your waist as leverage to lift you onto her lap, silently assuring you that she wanted the same thing. She wanted you. Without another word, you wrapped your arms around her neck, capturing her lips with your own.

Her lips were almost as soft as yours, slightly chapped from her inability to stop nibbling on them. They met perfectly with yours at an even pace, confirming how good of a kisser you assumed she was, and you were thankful that your mouth wasn't dry considering how much you had smoked.

You relished in the feeling of her hands on your waist, finally knowing what it's like to be held by her. You could feel her grip slowly release, her cold fingertips sliding underneath the fabric, onto your skin. Ellie realized that you were only wearing a bra underneath when her fingers met your skin, letting out a heavy breath against your lips.

There was a reason behind it that you were way too embarrassed to admit. You often hoped that something would happen between you, a crush being a crush and all, and would either "forget" your shirt or bra under your sweater when you'd visit. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie could tell when you didn't wear a bra on certain days. Of course she did, though. How could she not? She takes every opportunity she can to admire you, bra or not.

You weren't as cold as you were earlier, your body warming with arousal. Ellie stopped reciprocating your kisses for a moment so you would pull away to meet her eyes, which were silently asking if she could take your hoodie off. Ellie was testing the waters, not wanting to be forceful with you unless she got the approval. God, she drove you mad in the best way possible.

You gave her a gentle nod, releasing your arms from the back of her neck. She placed the blunt between her lips, using both hands to pull the hoodie up your chest, discarding it beside her on the couch. She pinched the blunt, placing it back between her fingers and she let out a long breath, the smoke clouding your vision as she took in your appearance, quickly licking her bottom lip before grabbing your sides again, pulling you closer to her. Your lips slammed onto hers, your tongue tangling with hers before she quickly overpowered you.

Suddenly, her grip on your waist tightened and she lifted you off her, guiding you to stand. She followed suit, recapturing your lips with her own as she slowly led you toward her bed with a slight struggle, due to the two of you kicking off your shoes. The urgency was pitiful.

She guided you onto her bed, your head resting comfortably on her pillows as she straddled and towered over you, her lips never losing contact with yours. You were glued to each other, desperate for each other's touch. You tugged on her blue button down, and she quickly understood what you wanted.

Ellie tucked the half-smoked blunt between your lips, giving you a wink before sitting up to pull the article off her shoulders, discarding it so she was just left with a grey shirt and jeans.

Her hands then found your waist, catching you off guard by flipping you over so you were straddling her while she remained sitting up, her hands gilding down to your hips, then the hem of your jeans. Nothing needed to be said. Both of you understood what the other was thinking, how the other felt.

You pulled the blunt away from your lips, tilting your head up to exhale above Ellie's head. Ellie took the opportunity to attack your neck with her lips and tongue, the simple gestures causing your heat to twitch in anticipation.

Ellie began unbuttoning your jeans, hearing the zipper for a split second, then forcing them off your hips. You helped her discard them before you repositioned yourself onto her lap. Your thin panties rubbed her bare stomach, her shirt being pushed up to her chest due to the repositioning.

You held the blunt against her lips, waiting for her to accept it. She did, her eyes looking up at yours as she took a drag, holding it between them. Your breath was becoming shaky, and whether you liked it or not, Ellie could hear it. She exhaled the smoke from the side of her mouth, continuing to look up at you as she tugged on your shirt. Her doing anything made you absolutely soaked.

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, using both hands to grab the hem of your shirt before pulling it off, tossing it to the floor. You were left in just your undergarments, while Ellie remained in her jeans and shirt. Ellie pinched the blunt and held it between her fingers again, and you swore you could hear her swallow.

"Fuck," Ellie whispered, her eyes dancing around your vulnerable body, admiring your form. "Just as beautiful as I thought."

Her words caused your cheeks to burn cherry-red, suddenly feeling vulnerable under her stare. Ellie felt you tense, her expression becoming serious, though it was just a play. She loved messing with you, and she claimed to be the only one allowed to do so. She used her hand with the blunt to cup your cheek, pulling your face down to hers.

"Do you know you're pretty, baby?" Ellie purred, hiding a smirk as she felt you clench against her stomach, despite having yet to take off your panties. The pet name nearly made a moan escape your throat, forcing you to gulp.

"I... I—"

"You're mine, aren't you?" Ellie cooed almost accusingly, purposefully teasing you. It wasn't news that Ellie was basically your protector, caring more about your safety than her own, but did you ever consider that it made you hers? You liked the thought of being hers, you had to admit.

Ellie couldn't wait any longer, shifting you above her so your legs were straddling her right thigh. A faint gasp fell from your lips, rolling onto Ellie's for her to swallow. Ellie tried to hide her cheeky smile as she began to press feather-light kisses from your jaw to your lower neck, using her tight grip on your hips to gently grind you down against her thigh.

A soft moan escaped your lips, followed by another, and another. Ellie knew what she was doing, enough to make you wonder how. The friction of her jeans and your panties combined surprisingly felt better than you'd imagined, but you wanted to feel her. Taste her.

"You like that, pretty girl?" Ellie purred, using her left hand to caress your right thigh, slowly inching inward toward.

"Mhm," you moaned in response, reaching for the front hem of her jeans as you grinded along with her pace, hooking your fingers underneath.

"Feel good, hm?" Ellie continued, gradually applying pressure to your hips until she found the right amount. She noted how greedy you were, practically begging for more with each passing second. "What do you want, baby?"

You swore you could feel yourself drip from how cockily Ellie pampered you. She could tell that the pet name worked on you. She wanted to make sure she did everything right for you.

"I-I want to taste you," you admitted, your cheeks slowly burning pink. Ellie raised her brows in shock, taken aback that you wanted to please her first. Well, any pleasure of hers is yours anyway, you wanted to make her feel good. You sat up from Ellie's thigh, too eager to continue, unbuttoning her jeans.

As you pulled her pants down her legs, Ellie leaned over and tossed remains of the blunt into the ashtray on her nightstand. She then pulled the drawer out, her hand disappearing inside. She pulled out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter, placing the joint between her lips and sparking the end of it with the flame, cupping her other hand around it.

You began to tease the waistband of her underwear, slowly but eagerly pulling them down her thighs, just enough to give yourself access to her cunt. It was glistening, waiting for you. Ellie had to admit, she felt a bit vulnerable herself. She never had anyone go down on her before, but she wanted to try it with you.

You wrapped your arms around her thighs, holding them open as you peppered gentle kisses on the innermost side of them, wondering if Ellie was going to be patient, or take full control. Unbeknownst to Ellie, she went with the ladder. Ellie used her right hand to snake her fingers in your hair, firmly gripping your locks to force your mouth onto her cunt.

You instantly plunged your tongue between her soaked folds, flicking your tongue to taste her as much as you could.

"Oh, fuck," Ellie groaned, her grip on your hair tightening. She watched how your tongue flicked and swirled, her eyebrows furrowing together in pleasure. "Oh my— fuck... How does it taste, pretty girl?"

One thing you could admit was that you weren't expecting Ellie to be so verbal in bed. You liked it, though it was surprising. You moaned against her in response, causing her body to visibly quiver. Ellie was slowly falling apart from the inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut as her short and shaky breaths grew louder, the foreign pleasure quickly spreading throughout her core.

She then pulled your face away, your eyes meeting hers through your lashes. With her left hand, she reached down to offer you the proper end of the joint, practically shoving it between your lips. You took a drag until she pulled it away, holding your head still as you exhaled against her cunt.

"You're so perfect," she praised with a sly smile, using her grip on your hair to shove your mouth back onto her heat. You softly dragged your tongue over her bundle of nerves before sucking, earning a nearly pornographic moan from her in response. You smiled against her, proud that you were able to make her feel so good.

"Shit, don't stop," Ellie ordered, but her moans almost made it sound like a plead. With each drag of your tongue on her swollen clit, a choked moan would escape her lips. Ellie couldn't believe that she could already feel herself growing close, the knot within her belly growing tighter.

"I.. 'm gonna come," Ellie almost whimpered, her hand releasing from your hair to grip the bedsheets. Your eyes shot up to her face, watching her hooded eyes struggle to stay open, her long, thick lashes light kissing the skin of her undereye.

Ellie bucked her hips to grind herself against your mouth, desperately chasing her peak. Ellie's legs twitched and with one gasp she was at her release, her back arching off the bed. Slick of your spit mixed with her juices coated her inner thighs, causing them to glisten under the light illuminating from the nightstand. Her orgasm struck her hard, a string of frantic moans and curses falling from her beautiful lips.

"Fuck, right there!" she sobbed, continuing to grind herself against your mouth. You were completely soaked, your face and your heat, and were sure that your panties had a wet spot that Ellie would smirk over. Ellie's movements slowed to a halt as she came down from her climax, swiftly sitting up. You released your lips from her clit, looking up at her with big doe eyes.

She used her hands to capture the sides of your face, pulling you onto her, your lips landing on hers. You melted into the kiss, leaning into her until you were fully towering her once again. She immediately plunged her tongue between your lips, tasting herself.

"Who taught you to do all that, huh?" she rasped, wrapping a hand around your throat. You felt her other hand slip between the two of you, landing on your clothed cunt. You moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk against your lips. "Hm?"

"N-no one," you stammered, looking down at her with innocent eyes. You were being genuine, you had never done it before.

Ellie merely hummed before she began kissing the side of your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot after a soft breath escaped your lips. Ellie kissed and suckled on the sensitive skin of your neck as she rubbed gentle circles into your clit, carefully applying pressure.

"Turn around," she murmured in your ear, although it was pointless, because she suddenly used both of her hands to flip you around so that your back was pressed against her chest, comfortably sitting in a slouched position. Her right hand quickly found its way to the waistband of your panties, toying with it while she hooked her right leg over yours, spreading your legs apart.

With her left hand, she lifted the joint to your lips, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and go to town. As you took a hit, you felt Ellie's fingers slip under the band of your panties, her cold fingertips grazing your clit.

"I promise 'm gonna make you feel good, okay?" Ellie purred in your right ear from behind you, her middle finger finding your heat and in one push, your gummy walls were hugging it. You threw your head back against her left shoulder, clenching around her digit. Ellie groaned from how soaked you were, how her finger slid in with such ease. "Fucking soaked for me."

Ellie's comment made you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut from the stimulation. Hearing this made her chuckle and push in a second finger.

"Shit," you whined, bucking your hips to meet the thrust of her fingers. She was going agonizingly slow, wanting you to beg, or try to get it yourself. You held the joint with your left hand, using the other to desperately grab Ellie's right thigh, which was still holding yours down against the bed. Ellie hid her sly smile in your neck, hungrily sucking love marks onto your skin. "That's it, pretty girl."

The gushing sounds coming from your cunt led Ellie to fasten the pace of her fingers, thrusting them mercilessly. Your moans were barely overpowering the squashing noises, your thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"Fuck, Ellie!" you cried, your eyes screwing shut as Ellie's fingers curled inside you, lightly brushing your sweet spot.

Knocking sounds erupted from the front door, causing you to gasp. Ellie's free hand clasped over your mouth, but her fingers never stopped.

"Who is it?" Ellie called out, clearly sounding out of breath. She then turned her head back to face your neck, pressing multiple rough kisses on your delicate skin.

"Uh... Jason," The voice said from the other side of the door, causing Ellie's lips to halt against your skin. Ellie's fingers stopped as well, nearly making you cry in protest. Ellie rolled her eyes, not wanting to deal with anyone or anything when you were meant to have all of her attention.

Ellie's eyes narrowed in thought before she slowly began to pump her fingers again, whispering in your ear, "You think he could make you feel this good?"

You moaned against her hand, the sound getting muffled by the barrier. Ellie smirked to herself, listening to the noisy sounds of your cunt before turning her head toward the door.

"I'm busy!" Ellie called back flatly.

"But--"

"I'm fucking busy!" Ellie snapped. Even though Ellie now had all of the validation she needed, she still didn't want to see Jason after learning he wanted you. Neither of you were sure if he took the hint, but you didn't care.

With that, Ellie's pace quickened, her other hand pulling at your bra. Your moans did not stop once while you tried to take it off, but Ellie stopped your movements. Instead, she pushed your shoulder forward so she could reach the clasp on your midback, undoing it swiftly.

You were too overwhelmed with pleasure to try and peel the straps off your shoulders, your legs fighting to stay open as her fingers repeatedly hit your sweet, spongy spot. Ellie noticed this, tenderly pulling your bra off your frame before groping your left breast.

"Are you close, sweet girl? Hm?" Ellie's voice was like gravel coated in honey, moaning along with you as she began rolling your nipple between her fingers, teasing the sensitive peak. You would believe her if she said she felt just as much pleasure listening to you. "Talk to me."

"Y-yes," you managed to whimper, feeling your release inch closer and closer.

"Come f'me like the good girl you are. Can you do that, sweetheart?" Ellie purred, causing your hips to buck. Ellie let go of your breast, her fingers finding their way to your clit, swirling circles into your bundle of nerves. Her fingers on your clit, as well as those inside you, completely threw you over the edge before you could reply.

You cursed as your orgasm crashed into you, your entire body stiffening as you came. Pitiful moans escaped your lips, Ellie continuing to pump her fingers at a comfortable pace. The sloppy noises of your cunt never stopped, enhancing Ellie's arousal.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking wet," Ellie nearly grunted in your ear before pulling her fingers out of your sopping, used cunt. She brought her fingers up to your lips, letting you suck her middle finger. You let go of her finger with a pop, huffs falling from your lips as you recovered. Ellie then bright her hand up to her mouth, sucking her ring finger clean.

She then grabbed the joint from your weak fingers, lifting it to her lips with a smirk. She finished it off, tossing the remains into the ash tray on her nightstand.

Before you could say a word, Ellie's hands were on your waist, pushing you off her and onto the bed beside her so she could tower over you. You already looked fucked out. Little beads of sweat dancing down your temples, bright cheeks and wet lips.

"I need to feel you," she huffed in urgency, pulling her underwear off her ankles from you not having discarded them beforehand. She quickly arranged herself on top of you, using your right knee as leverage for her to get into a proper scissoring position. You could see the faint glistening of her cunt, her wetness failing to subside after hearing your moans and exploring you with her fingers. Ellie wanted all of you, she wanted to leave you shaking.

A whiney moan escaped your throat when you felt Ellie's wet core gently land on yours, almost instantly bucking your hips into her. Ellie let out a huff, starting to grind against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your moans were comparable to sobs, bellowing louder than the messy sounds of your cunt.

"You always this wet when you're around me?" Ellie grunted, reaching down to grope your breasts with her free hand, the other still holding onto your knee.

"Y-yes," you managed to admit, arching your back from the pleasure you were soaking in. Your fluids were messily dripping down your inner thighs, smearing onto Ellie's. You could feel the coil in your belly begin to tighten, the friction of Ellie's soaked cunt sliding perfectly over yours at the right pace.

"Yeah? All f'me?" she purred, leaning down to kiss you before retreating, resuming her thrusts.

Heavy breaths puffed out of Ellie's lungs as she continued her steady movements, her short nails leaving indents in the skin of your knee from her tight grip. She could feel her own release creeping closer as well, fastening her pace, which led her to firmly grip your thigh, squeezing it harder than intended. You yelped in pain at first, though it quickly melted into a moan of delight.

"I'm gonna come," Ellie whined, the overstimulation of a second orgasm taking over her. You watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, signaling that she had reached her release. You bucked your hips up to grind yourself against her while she came, her nails digging into your skin as she tensed up. Eyes screwed shut, face sweaty, she still looked as hot as ever.

Ellie's expression and piteous moans pushed you toward your peak, your back arching off the bed as you practically gasped for air. Ellie continued to grind down on you, despite seeming slightly overstimulated from her legs twitching non-stop.

"Fuck, f-fuck," you managed to utter in between breaths, your eyes feeling heavier than normal. Your body felt tingly, your chest heaving as Ellie slowed her pace.

Little did you know, Ellie didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to send requests and/or feedback, everything is appreciated! ೃ⁀➷

#hazelnutsforellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams fanfic #tlou #the last of us smut #tlou smut #tlou ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us game

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woodland-gremlin · 2 months

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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 1 (Adoption AU)

Elle loves flying. The way the wind whips around her, the weightlessness of it, how small everything looks so high up, and most of all how freeing it is.When she is up in the air she is free, safe, away from everything that hurts her and tries to drag her down into their control. Free, never being tied down and forced into a role she never wanted. Free, able to go from place to place, exploring a world that was kept from her. Free to be herself, to learn what she wants and who she is. Ellie truly loved flying and the freedom it offers down to her very core. She wouldn’t trade it for anything, much less anything that the Fruitloop offered.

She was just so lonely. She has traveled far and wide, exploring different cultures, meeting new people, and learning about the world that the oldest Halfa hid from her. That is how she learned he lied to her more than she thought. While somewhere like the horror stories he told her most were nothing like he said. The people she met and spoke to were as wide and diverse as the sea. Some were tall and strong, while others were small and sneaky. Some knew so much she didn’t know how they fit everything in their head, then some may have not known as much but were no less clever. Some remind her of the Creep and why she left, yet others remind her of her template, Danny.

It seemed like that no matter where she went she saw something that reminded her of the first person to accept her. An observatory telling her all about space and the stars he endlessly spoke about. A mechanic down on his luck. A kid in highschool that was stressed about finals.The kind old lady that gave her the last of her own food to her because she noticed she was hungry. Someone told a ridiculous pun that made everyone groan. Another that saved a cat from a tree. Even seeing someone with black hair with either blue or green eyes made her turn her head and do a double take.

The worst was when another hero saved the day. She never stayed for too long when that happened, it made her bitter. Bitter to hear of a hero that claimed that they could hear a cry for help from across the world but never bothered to save her. Where was he when she and her siblings were being abused by a madman? When her sibling kept dying, only to be replaced by another as if they were objects? When she was being manipulated into betraying one of the only people that was treated with kindness?

In the end it was her own template that was the one to save her, not some boy scout who thought it was a good idea to wear his underwear over his other clothes. Her own template who had every reason to hate her after everything that had happened but instead looked her in the eye and said she was family. Who offered to risk his own freedom, his own safety, for the one-in-the-million chance his parents would accept and she would have a safe place to stay. Who saw her as her own person, even helping her come up with a new name after she offhandedly mentioned that she hated the one Knock-off Vampire gave her. Who made a grave for his siblings and worked to give each of them names after she chose her own. Who saw each and everyone as their own person, not just a failed copy that Cliche Money Bags saw us as. Who mourned them, who grieved the lives that they never got to experience, that he was too late to save them.

Danny was a hero, much more than the League of Idiots who can’t even see what is right in front of them. She doubts that they would treat her or her siblings even half as well as Danny, much less if they were clones of them.

#danny phantom #dcu #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #ghost king danny #danni phantom #ellie phantom #danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie #adoption au #vlad plasmius #justice league #superman #Vlad Masters #clones

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sixosix · 11 months

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cw injuries, desc of blood, scara patching reader up, profanity bc its a sixosix fic AND it’s scara, wc 500

for @scarahearts the craziest scara main

“so annoying,” wanderer hisses under his breath, cursing again. his breath is on your skin, almost as scorching as the scowl he’s wearing. “infuriating. is your hobby getting on people’s nerves?”

“is your hobby degrading your patients?” you retort, then yelp when he tightens the bandage a little too hard. “ow— fuck you!”

he smirks smugly at your defeated glare, but it fades quickly and back to a frown when blood seeps from the cloth.

you murmur and fidget, “sorry for inconveniencing you.”

his gaze snaps up, sharp. that was probably the wrong thing to say.

“thanks for helping me…?” you try instead. he rolls his eyes.

wanderer stares at your plastered arm for a moment too long, eyes tracing the curve of your elbow, where blood is seeping and staining the once beige bandage dirty red. he then sneers, a snarl of teeth; you can almost see in his eyes where he’s replaying the exact moment you were picked up and thrown to the ground.

you almost want to say that shouki no kami did the same thing to you (read: the balladeer himself), but you have a feeling that those canines aren’t for show, and he’ll end up biting your arm off or something.

you’re startled out of your skin when he suddenly grabs your chin with his hand, rough and demanding you to get a clear view of his displeased expression. ...and yet the grip he has on your injured arm is gentle. a mess of contradictions, a push and a pull, a scowl and a brush of skin—hate, and love.

“when will it get in your fucking head—” he enunciates each word by pulling you closer and closer to him, until your faces are a heavy breath away, “—that you have travel companions for a reason? am i just for show? a doll for you to show off?”

instinctively, you back away, a little bit of fear racing in your heart at the familiar hostile face he’s making. “it’s not that! it’s— i wasn’t— thinking.”

“right. because nothing ever goes in that pretty little head of yours,” wanderer muses, readily agreeing.

“hey,” you fume, face burning.

“you disagree? prove me wrong, then.” he still doesn’t let go of your face. and although puppets do not need to breathe, there’s warm air shared between the two of you where his lips are in close distance with yours. “prove to me that you aren’t forgetting i can fight just as well as you. that i am completely capable of protecting myself and you.”

“that’s not…” you want to say that your little incident didn’t involve any of that, but his gaze is fierce. you realize that it may not be your intention, but it might be what came off to him. “...okay.”

after a beat, you add; an afterthought, “you don’t have to protect me. you saw that i was able to beat their asses easi—” at his unimpressed stare, you correct yourself, “—with a bit of slipping here and there. still, i won.”

“not without an almost severed arm.”

without thinking too much about it, you say, “let’s protect each other, then.”

surprise flits across wanderer’s expression before it settles into something like muted satisfaction. “don’t make it a promise, so you can’t break it.” it’s the closest you can get a ‘yes’ out of him.

im gonna be honest i dont know where this came from like i literally tokd myself if im gonna write a genshin fic itll be HEIZOU. but this bitch held me hostage at 2am with a phone and google docs open — and then i made it happen fr for ellie cus we both lost our minds over the scara art in the 3.8 stream

#606:GENSHIN #??#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x reader #scaramouche drabble #x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

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If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

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

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year

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My Dad can beat up your dad

Imagine if Ellie joined the Teen Titans (Cartoon Version)

When Trigon attacks, everybody is freaking out because how are they going to stop him? Raven is a kid, there are no other magic users around, and the Justice League is off world (idk what the canon reason is)

But Ellie is strangely calm

She mentions that her dad may be able to help, or at least be able to hold him back long enough for them to get help

Robin: How is your Dad going to stop THAT!

Ellie: Well, you know how I'm half ghost?

BB: Yeah?

Ellie: Ans you know how that one time the ghost we fought called me "Princess"?

Cyborg: yeah...

Ellie: Well the thing is, they weren't lying. My dad is the King of a Dimension called the Infinite Realms, and while he is young for a King he is still powerful.

So she calls in her dad, who is sporting the classic Ghost King Redesign, and he goes to hold Trigon back as the team comes up with a plan.

I don't like the "Insanely OP Danny" stuff too much, so for this let's just say that Danny can grow in size to be comparable to Trigon, and they have a Giant Kaiju battle in the middle of Jump City. He doesn't win, but he manages to hold on long enough for Raven to finish the Job

Also i really want Danny to start doting on Ellie, like really excited that he gets to meet his daughters friends and all that. He even pulls out some embarrassing Baby Photos from that time Ellie was reverted to her actual age.

Once he hears about Raven being Trigons daughter, he adopts her on the spot.

Raven suddenly has a new Dad, Sister, Brother (reformed dan), Aunt, Grandma and Grandpa (good parents jack and maddie) and maybe a new mom (Sam? Val? 3rd person?)

Basically I just wanted a "Kaiju Danny vs Kaiju Trigon" fight

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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Territorial

Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 6.6k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: She never paid attention to the newcomers when they joined Jackson until one of them begins to get close to Joel. Warning: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Violence. Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI

She didn’t care when Jackson got new people. She wasn’t one of the regulars that crowded around the entrance, watching patrol bring them through, so similar to how they joined. No, she didn’t care because the rest of Jackson didn’t matter, just the two people she currently lived with. If it didn’t have to do with Joel and Ellie, she didn’t care. So it was at least a month before she met Harper, when she was added to their patrol duty.

The other women in town, the ones that frequently fawned over Joel Miller, were different from his companion and she knew that. Her insecurity frequently reminded her that she didn’t belong in Jackson with these women that still took the time to dress up and do their hair. But she had seen Joel downright ignore their flirting enough times, had heard him reassure her that wasn’t the type he was interested in. Someone to watch his back. With teeth, he had said. Harper had teeth. She was a good shot, wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and never complained about the work. She got along well with Maria, with everyone really, able to get them to talk about their interests and lives easily and seemed like an open book. Harper helped with the horses and in the food hall and knew how to cook and how to clean a rifle properly. And to her dismay, as she watched the patrol party enter the gates where she definitely wasn’t waiting for the man she lived with, Harper could make Joel smile. Not a smirk or a condescending tilt of the lips, but an actual smile. She watched them dismount from the horses and the woman laughed at something Joel said, his lips curving into a grin, and her heart dropped in her stomach. Because she wasn’t sure the man had ever smiled like that around her. Easy and charming, relaxed. Suddenly she was the old version of herself, anxious and unsure, insecure in her own skin and embarrassed. All her faults and problems blared in her head alongside the echo of the threat hanging over her head. Assimilate or get kicked out of Jackson. She was on her last strike after three rough months of living there while this woman had shown up and fit in better than she ever could after only a month. Her nails dug into her thigh sharply, the small hints of pain trying to keep her grounded. She’d almost convinced herself to turn around and walk home, leave before Joel could see her standing there with all her defects, but then his eyes met hers. And if she didn’t feel awful enough, his smile dimmed a bit, became unsure and almost bashful. Like he didn’t want her to see it. She wondered if Harper had noticed his eyes were more hazel than brown when he was in a good mood. They both walked over to her and she stood there, stiff and stabbing into her own skin, wanting to bolt. Harper turned to her, light hair catching the sun and blue eyes glistening. Perfect and still pretty even after the world went to shit while she was very aware she hadn’t brushed her hair in three days. “Oh hi, I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she smiled sweetly, adjusting the rifle on her back and the bandana around her neck. Joel cleared his throat, nodding towards her and ignoring the furrowed brow that was permanently on her face around strangers, “Harper, this is Red. Red, Harper.” “I’ve heard so much about you. Red’s such an interesting name,” she smiled with a light chuckle though it wasn’t as wide as the one that had been aimed at Joel, her eyes roaming over her. Taking her measure. She only frowned and ignored her eye contact, staring at Joel’s shoulder instead. “It’s not my name,” the words were quiet but raspy, a growl. Harper’s smile tightened in the corner of her eye. The silence weighed between them, stifling, and Joel cleared his throat, “Harper happens to be from Austin. We frequented some of the same spots surprisingly.” The words were almost an explanation or an apology, or an excuse. She didn’t reply, eyes still solely focused on his shoulder and avoiding looking at either of them. Small talk was hard on most occasions but this seemed impossible. She wasn’t sure how she should reply to that. Congrats? Good job finding another person you could easily talk to besides me? She chewed the inside of her lip, feeling uncomfortable and desperately wanting to run, words stuck until she nodded and spit out, “I’ll see you at the house later.” His brow had furrowed when she swiveled on her heel and started walking down the street, rigid and feeling the small welts of blood seeping into her jeans from her nails. ___________________ It wasn’t long before she started seeing Harper everywhere and she grit her teeth every time.

When she walked into the bar, the location on her list of places to search for Ellie, she found Joel and Tommy chatting with the woman at the bar top. She was talking rapidly, a smile on her face and hands waving as she told some story. A hand talker. Tommy was behind the bar, leaning on it and seeming enraptured by the conversation while Joel was standing with his elbow resting on the counter, body fully turned to face Harper. All three chuckled at something and she watched as her hand landed on Joel’s arm, staying there a few seconds too long before sliding off. Too lingering to be innocent. She wanted to snap her teeth at her, go up to them and put her hand on his back or in his belt loops, a move he’d done so often to her. Push him against the countertop and take his mouth with hers or even straight grab Harper’s perfect hair and slam her face against the table. A million images flashed through her head only to come to a halt at remembering her predicament. Joel’s urges to try to join the community or risk getting kicked out. She knew she was a fine thread away from getting booted. One wrong step out the door and probably bashing in perfect new girl Harper’s face would do the trick faster than she could blink. So instead she pivoted, snarl in her throat, and walked out the bar. Harper became a regular on Joel’s shift. She only worked with the newcomer a couple times. She was good and that irritated her. The woman was a survivor and knew how to handle herself and watch out for others. All the things she usually found lacking in the townspeople and hated, Harper had that and more. She didn’t know what to do with that knowledge and the growing list of the woman’s skills. They’d been scouting out a small location, a couple of cabins a few hours away from Jackson. She’d rode to the far side of them and gotten off, checking the houses for anyone hiding out or seeing if there was anything good to scavenge. When she heard the sound of glass shattering and heavy thumps a few houses down, voices crying out, her heart almost pounded out of her chest. That’s where Joel had been checking. She’d ran fast, bow out, feet carrying her quicker than she’d ever run before on the muddy Spring ground. Previous moments flashed in her mind. Too many close calls. Joel’s blood on her hands from a stab wound. Joel hurt. But the action was already over as she barreled into the room. A Clicker lay bleeding out on the floor, a large hatchet stuck in the fungi petals of its face, mouth in a grotesque scream. Joel was panting on the floor with his back against the corner, pistol in hand unfired, while Harper stood over the infected triumphant. With a grin, she ripped the hatchet from its head and walked over to Joel, offering him a hand. She felt useless. Harper had his back. Teeth. _____________________________ Tommy had finally found her a job she was actually fairly decent at, after being taken off both kitchen and farming duty, but noticing she seemed calmest with animals. People didn’t want to work with her and in her mind that was fine, but in Maria’s it made her a problem. But she liked the dog kennels. They weren’t unlike her. She could understand their wants and needs, their habits and what they deemed their territory. Training them wasn’t easy but it was rewarding and it came with the added benefit that she was around the animals more often than people. She didn’t have to be talkative or put on a mask. They knew hand signs, could read her feelings and what she wanted. It felt comfortable to be with them. Often in the morning she would go and feed the dogs, go over their exercises, walk them in the outside yard they had set aside behind the kennels. Ellie had fallen in love with them as well and sometimes would tag along, was even there when one of the dogs gave birth. She’d been grossed out initially but once the blood and the goo and all the disgusting parts of birth was over and done with she held the small puppies in her hands and helped them find spots to feed. Joel had come a few times, watched them with arms resting on the pen door as they sat in the hay and held the tiny jelly bean puppies. Ellie had grinned, taking over naming duty, and had even held one up forcing Joel to name one. He’d frowned, shrugging at the little brown squirming blob, scratching at his beard, “I don’t know, Brownie?” “Really?” Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “So original. Naming it after its color.” “You named me after my shirt,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. Those first few days when she hadn’t known how to interact but knew she had to make sure the girl was safe. Unwilling to give any piece of herself, especially her name. So Ellie had formed a piece from the rubble and taken it for herself. Ellie huffed with a sniff, nose turning up, and ignored the dig, “Whatever, Red suited you.” She held the squirming puppies in her lap, watching them seek warmth while holding a small container of sugared ice for the mama to lick and enjoy after pushing out ten little bodies, “Good thing I wasn’t wearing a different colored shirt.” Joel’s eyes were on her and she looked up at him, finding him watching her with the slightest tilt of his lips. She knew he was worried about her, had already been fighting tooth and nail with his brother and his pregnant wife over her position. He was working harder to help her than Ellie who had adjusted quickly. This was the one job inside of Jackson’s walls she was relaxed in and she could feel him taking in the way she seemed at ease. The smile grew, warming. “Did Maggie have the pups?” a familiar voice rang out. The smile vanished and she stiffened.

The kennels had been converted from one of the old stables, the dogs held in old horse stalls on either side of the room. She couldn’t see the woman from her position on the floor, the walls of the stall blocking the view, but she knew it was Harper that had walked in. She came up to Joel’s side, almost touching shoulders, and looked down at her and Ellie with the pups and Maggie. “Oh, hi Red,” Harper’s smile became a bit tighter, head tilting, “I didn’t realize you were the one taking care of her.” She didn’t answer, averting her gaze to Maggie and adjusting the bowl for her to lick. Ellie answered instead, enthusiastically holding the puppy up in her hand, “She takes care of the dogs now! Joel named this one.” The man frowned almost bashfully, shrugging, “It’s Brownie.” Harper laughed and her dimples showed, head quirking as she looked at him, “That’s adorable.” She couldn’t get up and leave with the puppies all around her and both Joel and Harper leaning on the pen door. She was trapped, listening to them chat and laugh and Ellie showing off all the dogs while she sat there and tried to be invisible. She wanted to scream, rage, do something other than be meek and small. It was like every time the woman showed up, the version of her from two decades before took over her skin. The girl who had been shy and timid and didn’t know how to fight back. She wanted to scream at her to do something, say something, snarl at Harper that if she touched Joel one more fucking time she’d break her wrist and shove it down her throat. Instead, she sat there, listening to Ellie talk to her easily and Joel’s soft musings, the three of them getting along better than she ever did. Try. Try. Joel’s pleas haunted her constantly. She was trying. God, was she fucking trying so hard. But this wasn’t an instance like with Grant who had touched her and paid the price or his fucking brother who had sneered in her face and called her a bitch. She could argue those were justified. She could have done worse to them and didn’t. But the problem was Harper hadn’t done anything wrong to her. She hadn’t been mean, she hadn’t touched her, hadn’t done anything but make her feel small in comparison to her presence. There was no reason to fight her, to twist her pretty locks in her fingers and smash her face in until the strands turned red and she was nothing but a cavernous hole. She hated settlement life. She hated the fucking politics of it all, the dance to be respectable. Before, there was no time to worry about feelings or what her and Joel were, how he felt towards her, what her role was in their complicated mess of a relationship. It had moved beyond just sex, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. They’d gone through hell together. Maybe it was that she happened to be there, a place holder to fulfill all he needed while taking care of Ellie, but now he had options. There were other women that could fill that place. Could be a better guardian to Ellie, could take care of Joel, could watch both of their backs. One that didn’t cause problems or that he had to jump to defend or cause Ellie to yell at gawking strangers on her behalf. She tried not to focus on it. Swallowed it down deep in the pit of her stomach and refocused back on the things that mattered, which were caring for Joel and Ellie.

She tried not to think about it when later that evening when they’d gone to bed he pulled her into his body, hands roaming over her soft belly before gripping her tightly and pushing his hard length against her backside. She tried not to think when his fingers slipped inside of her, pumping in and out as his other hand squeezed her tit and pinched her nipped. Tried not to think if he was pushing into her from behind because he was imagining someone else’s face. The confusion turned to a twisted sort of pain and hurt and rage that needed an outlet. Defiance against her situation. She couldn’t do anything outside the walls of their house and her frustration was tearing her up. She was a fox with its foot caught in a trap, snapping and snarling at whatever she could but unable to do anything. She pulled away, feeling him slip out of her, and shoved him onto his back. Joel let out a small grunt at the hard push, but she didn’t care as she climbed on top of him, watching the small bit of confusion in his eyes. He knew something was off, but didn’t stop her. Let her take what she needed. She had to feel some ounce of control. So she rode him hard, nothing gentle to the way she rose and fell on him, sweat coating her skin and panting. There was no rhythm to it, only primal need and hurt carrying her movements. He sat up, brows furrowed and not keen on the distance of laying back, the angle changing enough she groaned. His hand caressed her neck softly in contrast to her harsh movements and the small tattooed stars on her collarbone he was always infatuated with. Almost as if he was trying to bring that version of her back to herself. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to give him an ounce of control over her, show him he could affect her at all. Because that meant someone else had the power to hurt her. Twisting her fingers in his curls tightly, she crushed her lips to his to avoid his searching eyes, swallowing every sound he made from the pleasure of their jutting hips. Her nails scraped along his scalp and into his shoulder hard enough she knew there would be red lines in the morning. He was letting himself be distracted, giving in, snapping his hips into hers equally rough with arms a tight band around her middle and holding her to his chest. They were wrapped around each other. For once there wasn’t the coaxing sound of his urgings as he drew her moans from her usually quiet throat, his praise at how good she was for him and how she felt. He was silent in the face of her aggression and she wasn’t sure how to feel, trying desperately to chase that control and release of her emotions. Her lips left his swollen and bruised and she pressed open mouth kisses onto the hard muscle of his shoulder as the pace became a mess. It wasn’t about her orgasm at that moment. She wanted to make him come, drag it from him like a trophy. Show him exactly what she could do to him. And when he did find his release, the hot spend of his arousal filling her, she bit down hard into the skin of his neck making him groan harder and dig his fingers into her skin. He tasted like sweat and salt and the earthy air from working outside. She didn’t come, didn’t mention it or even want it, only held him tightly as he came down from the high and slid his hand over her naked back. His grip was a little harder and she kept her face tucked into his neck when he tried to meet her eyes. They went to bed without any discussion, him holding her to his chest while her eyes stared into the darkness longer, listening to his breaths. The sound of knocking in the early morning woke them up. She heard Joel curse and throw on pants and a flannel, not bothering to button it up before lumbering down the stairs. Sleep beckoned to pull her back under, breasts pressed into the cool sheets and covers slid down from Joel leaving. It was usually Tommy, up early and taking care of things or letting him know of any problems. But she paused at the distinctly female voice she heard. A few minutes later Joel came back into the room and began to dress fully. She bit her lip, watching him from where her face was shoved into the pillow, brows furrowed. Boots, jacket, holster, gun. Everything signs he was leaving the walls. He looked at her after snapping in his gun and paused when he noticed she was awake and staring, two large unblinking eyes watching him from behind her arms. Joel hesitated in the darkness, contemplating, almost guilty. It was supposed to be his day off. Yet here he was, racing off. “Harper said one of the guys is sick and they’re short one so I’m gonna go help out with morning patrol,” he explained and nodded to himself, thumbs in his belt. A reasonable excuse. She wondered if he hadn’t noticed she was awake would he have left without telling her? But still, she said nothing and tucked her face back into the pillow, exhausted and a little sad and drowning in her own deteriorating self-esteem and doubt. A few moments later, she ignored the trail of his fingers on her naked back, soft and apologetic, before he left the room. Most of the time it was Tommy asking him to fill in. He didn’t say yes often and would tell him to shove it before going back to their bed. But Harper had asked this time and she felt her hackles raise at the fact she’d come to their house. To ask him specifically. And he’s been quick to say yes.

These feelings weren’t something she knew how to process or handle. Who the fuck handled being jealous of all things in the apocalypse? It was ridiculous, but settling in Jackson had allowed those things to creep in. She became aware of all she lacked and all she couldn’t handle and how other people didn’t have the same issues as her. She let her instincts guide her. The kennels became her home. She knew when Joel was home and avoided him, knowing that if she didn’t see him with Harper then it wouldn’t hurt as much versus death by a thousand cuts. She knew better than to try and sleep in the downstairs room, he’d only find her and yell at her to go upstairs, so she went to bed early or late. Asleep before he would show up or waiting until he was sleeping himself. Ellie followed her around when she wasn’t going to classes or helping out where she could. The girl never asked directly what was wrong, but she knew something was up. There was worry in her eyes and she would ask for help with inane tasks, trying to lure her home like luring a frightened dog home with a treat. She didn’t want to worry or hurt her, but the feelings were choking her and she didn’t know how to cope. Some nights, she missed her sister and having someone to walk her through it all. Annie had been so much smarter than her despite her young age. She understood the world better, was sassy like Ellie, and could read people so well. Unlike her who was gullible back then and immensely naive, unsure and anxious constantly. Book smart, but not much else. But Annie was gone along with that version of her.

Sometimes she’d feel Joel inching closer to her in the bed, hands ghosting over her shoulder or brushing through her hair when he thought she was asleep. His lips brushing her skin. Never pushing, far too patient.

When he left for morning patrol, she pretended to stay asleep. Harper would be in his group and when that happened, she liked to wait outside the house for him. The kennels welcomed her and she spent time with each dog, shoving her face into their necks and running her hands over their fluffy coats. She checked on the puppies and weighed them all, walking Maggie so she could get a break from the squirming things. She even spent time with the older dogs, taken off duty, making sure they got attention and massaged their joints and hugged them in her lap. Her brain made backup plans. If Joel asked her to leave the house, she could set up a cot in the kennels and stay there. There was even a small converted garage she could live in if she needed to. If they asked her to leave, she could go north and stay within distance enough she could visit Ellie often enough. Maybe set up a radio code similar to what Joel had told her about their friends Bill and Frank so she could set meet up spots. The latter was more likely. People only put up with her because of Joel and if he chose Harper then there wasn’t any reason to keep her in Jackson to them. Ellie would have guardians, she wasn’t necessary.

Hours passed while she cared for the dogs. She skipped breakfast and lunch, choosing instead to spend time training them or napping with the senior dogs in their pens.

It was mid-day when the doors opened and she heard footsteps enter. They weren’t familiar and her body stiffened instantly, shutting the pen door behind her as she exited Maggie’s enclosure. Sometimes it was one of the patrols, coming to switch out the dogs, but they didn’t always take them out unless someone was spotted and none had been taken that day. Her heart thudded even louder when she saw who it was, Harper’s smile a little too tight as she made eye contact. In all the times since the newcomer had joined Jackson, she’d never been alone with the woman. Now she didn’t like the lack of a buffer, the way her focus took in every inch of her. But in the same way, the cracks in her mask were showing. What had seemed gentle in the lines of her face were now condescending, mocking, ingenuine. Her lips were stretched thin in almost a sneer and those blue eyes were hard. Oh. She could see the game then, the cunning analyzing way this woman looked at her. She was right. Harper was a survivor, was so very smart, and was also willing to do whatever to get her way. You don’t survive this long by being sweet and kind and caring. You had to be ugly sometimes, but Harper had gotten good at hiding that ugliness from the right people. There was no reason to hide it from her though.

The woman stepped further in and walked towards her languidly, trailing her hands along the stable doors. Her exit was cut off, having to move around the woman to leave, and she began to see the situation for what it was. A standoff. A fight. Her teeth were grinding, nails sinking into her palm if only to inflict some kind of violence to keep herself in check.

Harper smiled, faux kindness painted on her lips, “They told me about you, warned me to be careful around you, and all the problems you’ve been having. They told me how you’re on your last leg here.” She paused and the smile widened, “You should just go and save everyone the trouble. Ellie’s doing great here and from what Joel has told me, he’s enjoying having his brother back and this new settlement life. If you really care about them, you’d realize you’re holding them back.”

Her blood was boiling, rage roaring through her head at Harper’s gall to mention her people, and she growled, “And you’re so worried about them, right? Concerned citizen?”

“Joel has been through a lot,” Harper spat out and she wanted to snap her teeth as if she didn’t fucking know, “He shouldn’t have to worry about some woman messing things up and getting them kicked out.” Some woman, as if that was all she was. The words were spit out of her mouth like they were covered in grime and blood. She didn’t even bother to hide what she meant. The words were all there, the implication that the man had opened up to her, told her about his life and what they’d been through, and his feelings regarding this new chapter. Things he hadn’t told her yet, too busy trying to douse fires and help her get settled.

Cleaning up her messes.

With a clenched jaw, holding in the hurt and the anger to keep from showing the damage, she bent down and grabbed her bag to try and leave. There was no winning in this sense because she was right and she’d never been good with words. Better to get out of there, go somewhere else before the damage took hold and would start to fester, “Your concern is noted.” Moving to go around her and leave, Harper stepped in her path, shoulders straight and spine rigid with her chest puffed out, “It’s not just for them. This is a civilized place.” And you’re not that went unsaid, “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and go? They’ll be fine and happy. No one has to worry if you’re gonna freak out and kill someone and you can finally roam the forests and be back home.”

She was so close she could smell the trees and wind on her, the slight hint of sweat from the horse. Too close. Close enough she could wrap her teeth into her flesh and bite and rip. Too tempting.

“Or you can get the fuck out of my face?” she hissed with her teeth bared. It was all rising, the urge to hurt her. She’d hurt so many people for less and it would feel so good to break her knuckles open on her mouth, to hear the cartilage in her nose crack. But her smile turned smug and she only pressed in, almost chest to chest, and using her few inches of height to look down at her, “Or what? What can you do? They’ll kick you out and do you really think Joel would be on your side if you hurt me?” That made her hesitate. Because she wasn’t sure. With the other women, the men and their obvious disdain for her, yes he would defend her. But this new person who was like a merging of all he liked? Tough but good with people and pretty and able to hold her own, someone he trusted at his back. Would he defend her? Harper sensed that hesitation and, before she could blink, took advantage and shoved her back. She stumbled, losing ground, so aware she was trapped. The fox with its leg in a noose, all over again. Fighting would give her exactly what she wanted. Not fighting back made her weak, someone to trample on. Someone too weak to live.

“Come on. Settlement life make you lose your bite or are the rumors hot air?” Harper hissed and shoved her again. Her instincts were screaming to fight, to shove her back, grab her knife, or use her fists. Beat her teeth in and make her swallow each one to the point she could only eat soup until she choked on it. But that hanging threat was there like a guillotine, Tommy’s voice saying Maria was considering kicking her out.

Joel asking her to try.

So she did nothing. She clenched her fists and bit her tongue until blood coated it. And when Harper threw a punch, snapping her head to the side, she still did nothing.

Shame and anger and resentment bloomed in her chest and the small taste of blood grew until she could feel a steady trickle down her throat as her nose took the brunt of the damage. She’d killed so many people for simply touching something of hers, looking at her, had done awful things to protect herself and her two people, and yet she would take this if it meant keeping them safe and happy. But it felt so much like losing to just let it happen.

“Can’t do anything, can you?” Harper chuckled, “They don’t need you, ya know that? You’re baggage. Joel and Ellie’s lives would be so much easier without you dragging them down-” “The fuck you just say to her?” The moment the deep voice snarled through the kennel, she saw Harper freeze. It came from the open doorway and she watched as the sneer on her face morphed into surprise and then tried to turn soft, apologetic. Fake. They both turned and watched as Joel entered the kennel, lips twisted into a hard frown and brow shading his eyes. He was looking at the woman differently now. Like an outsider or a threat. She could see the subtle fear and discomfort swim to the surface under that gaze. The game was up. Mask invisible. “Joel-” “Not another word. You shut your fucking mouth,” he snarled and Harper shrunk in response. She watched it all with a disconnect, feeling the blood slide down her lips and into her mouth. There was no relief at his appearance. Shame was still a heavy blanket on her shoulders at him finding her cowed.

With a gulp, Harper’s gaze swung between the two and she slid away, scurrying around him and towards the exit. But not before he called out, “If you say a goddamn word to her ever again, I’ll let her finish what you started and swear before the whole town that you deserved every bit of what she does to you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get punished for a single fucking thing.” The threat was there but not from him. No, even catching them with her own blood smeared across her face, he knew she could do the damage herself unrestrained and untethered. That this moment was a special circumstance because what she could do was far worse than what he would. Harper ran and didn’t look back. Silence took over between them, tension thick enough the dogs whined and pawed at their pen doors. She stood stiff and unmoving, eyes not meeting his but looking off into the darkness. He was the first to break the silence. “Why didn’t you fight back?” Joel asked, a growl still in his voice but not towards her. She smiled humorlessly, hands on her hips and staring down at the door floor. Her blood was speckled on the ground, “Because I’m trying.”

Joel scoffed and stepped more into the room, grabbing her chin until she looked up at him. From his back pocket, he pulled out a rag and gently began to wipe the blood from her face, “Trying to do what? Be a punching bag?” Blood was in her throat when she swallowed, heart beating a little louder at his touch, but she continued to avoid his gaze, “Integrate.” He paused at the word, his thumb rubbing the edge of her jaw compulsively. Then his grip tightened and he turned her forcefully to meet his gaze. Joel’s eyes were hard and lips pressed thin with anger but also regret and frustration, “I don’t give a shit if we’re integrating or whatever. Someone gives you shit, lays a hand on you, fuck even makes you feel like you don’t belong with us then you knock their fucking teeth in.” She swallowed as he all but snarled the words at her, his fingers so tight on her skin, but he continued, “Settling down here doesn’t mean I want you to become a doormat and I’ll argue with Maria until I’m fucking blue over that. They start shit? Then you sure as fuck finish it.” Her teeth clenched and she felt the sharp coppery tang of the blood still in her mouth, “They’ll kick me out-” “No, they won’t,” he hissed angrily, “I fucking mean it, Red. I don’t want you softening for our sake if it means people try to make you feel like shit. Your place is here with us. No one is going to get between us, I can assure you that.” “She wasn’t wrong,” she replied softly as if saying it out loud was exposing an open nerve, exposing her insecurity to him, “I’m baggage. She could take care of herself and you and Ellie. She can cook and watch your back and gets along with people. I can’t do that-” “Stop,” he ground out, “I’m not that easy. Jesus, I’m not going to chase after the first woman that can hold a gun and make me a fucking pie.” Despite his hard words, he still gently wiped her face clean, taking such care in checking her over and making sure she was okay. It was almost too much, “Give yourself some credit, Starshine-” “You spent a lot of time with her,” the words were like ripping open her skin, bitter and stupid and raw as they spilled out of the wound, “She’s…from Austin and…you laughed and smiled with her. You just seemed happier around her.” Joel paused and pulled back a little to fully take in her expression and what was at play. She could see the moment he saw her, really saw her no matter how hard she was trying to hide her feelings. The insecurity. The jealousy. Everything she had struggled with. He chewed his lip and nodded, brow furrowing a bit harder, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what she wanted or how she was making you feel. But you’re fucking stupid if you think I wouldn’t turn her ass down in a second.” The words weren’t gentle or soft, but they were said as a fact. The simplest fact that Joel would never choose Harper. That he wasn’t actively pursuing that. And it worked. She felt the tightness in her shoulders ease a bit as he pulled her forward into his embrace, pressing a kiss against her forehead. Her fingers dug into his back, gripping the worn denim fabric of his shirt tightly and she couldn’t help but sigh into his embrace. Home. It felt like home and comfort and everything she had felt she was missing. Breathing him in, she mumbled against his chest, “She’s probably going to complain next time you have patrol with her.” “She’s not going to be on patrol with me,” he murmured into her ear, pulling back to sweep her messy hair behind her ears, “I’m gonna make sure she works exactly where she belongs. On shit duty.” “You don’t have to. You don’t have to come to my rescue,” she argued albeit weakly. “Oh I’m not,” Joel chuckled, lips turning up into a smirk, “This is all for me. No one insults what’s mine.” She looked at him, brow furrowed at the words, mind trying to process them. But she didn’t get very far before his lips were on hers, kissing her hard and tugging her back flush against his body so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. Her nails dug into his skin, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, while his hands kneaded the soft curves of her ass, pressing the hard front of his jeans into her stomach. He groaned into her mouth and pulled away enough to speak against her lips, grip on her still tight, “Let’s get back home so I can fuck you so hard you’ll stop doubting yourself.” She chuckled, wanting to argue that that was a hard promise to keep, but he was already dragging her out of the kennels and into the darkening streets as the sun began to lower. True to his word, Harper found herself with a brand new post going forward. Tommy didn’t mention the reason why to her, didn’t pull her aside and question her over what happened. Ellie didn’t even mention her bruised nose. Whatever Joel had told them was enough. The woman went out of her way to avoid going anywhere near any of them going forward, even straight turning in the opposite direction when she saw them and eventually coming off patrol duty all together. She tried not to feel satisfied at that. Tried not to feel more at ease or proud of herself when Maria told her she was doing a damn good job with the kennels and asked if she wanted to take on more duties, almost cementing that she wasn’t going to be asked to leave. Joel and Ellie did that for her, celebrating every small win and reminding her exactly where she belonged. With them. _________________________________________ Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111 @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8

#joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x Feral Reader #Joel Miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #tlou #the last of us #feral reader #raicodoll writes #series: feral

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sykostyles · 8 days

Text

melodies | 1.2

summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k

warnings: swearing, harry being insufferable, suggestive content

a/n: hello loves! I am still on vacation but I was able to spend a little time editing this chapter of melodies to get it posted for you! I hope you all enjoy! here comes the DRAMA!!

The box. The infamous box. Its contents?

“Styles, wha–,” you’re speechless. How did he do it? Where did he? “--Is that what i think it is?”

“That depends,” he starts, a shit eating grin on his face, “do you think it’s a custom, handmade replica of the diamond and ruby necklace Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman?” He looks at you deviously, “Because that’s what it is.” You just stare at him in shock. “Oh, and it’s all yours.”

“Harry,” you breathe; your voice full of disbelief and amazement.

“You–,” he smiles, “You just called me Harry.” He’s beaming. His whiter than white smile is on full display; pearly whites shining bright enough to blind. He’s happy. Ecstatic.

“You deserved it,” you place a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a blush on his skin in your wake. “Would you help me put it on, please?”

“I would be honored,” he takes the necklace from the box. He hooks it together before placing a featherlight kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. The contact makes you shiver with anticipation. “Fits in like it was made just for you,” he smiles against your skin, his hands finding your hips, pulling you back into him as he speaks.

Turning in his hold, you place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Sty–Harry. It’s beautiful,”

“You make it beautiful,” he comments, giving you another kiss before he opens your car door. Harry helps you in, holding your hand as you sit down, minding the train on your dress.

“So, where are we going all dressed up?” you ask, as he takes his seat in the car.

“Ah, that would spoil the other surprise,” he grins from the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other is planted on your thigh.

You huff in response.

“Alright, brat,” he laughs, “It’s a business dinner, and some.. Live entertainment to follow.”

“Styles..”

“What happened to Harry?”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Depends,” he chuckles.

“Am I getting my Pretty Woman moment?” The hopeful glint in your voice makes him feel a sense of pride.

“For the record, you don’t need the dress and the whole shebang to have a Pretty Woman moment,” he looks over to you, your excited eyes look back in awe of the man next to you. He really is determined to give you everything you want in order to make you his. The amount of thought he’s put into everything really shows you how much he listens to everything you say, and it makes you feel things you can’t explain.

“You're in love with him, stupid,” Ellie's voice rings in your head. Shut. Up.

“You don't need all these sweet words and grand gestures to get what you want out of me either,” you say, placing your hand atop his on your thigh.

“I know, but I thoroughly enjoy seeing that smile of yours.”

Arriving at the dinner, Harry opens your door as you’re met with flashing cameras. He’d warned you that there would be paparazzi here but you weren’t anticipating this level of insanity. But you probably should have, knowing Harry’s status.

He stops for a few photos, requesting you stand with him for all of them. Harry didn’t want you out of his sight. The paps shout questions of your identity, where you met, how long you’d been together, if you were pregnant, that one made you laugh, you had to admit. But the attention being on you was never what you wanted. It's why you never pursued the stage. It didn’t comfort you like it did your mother. The stage terrified you.

Making your way inside, there’s a sea of people dressed to the nines as they make pointless conversation amongst themselves. They all seem super interested in each other but you know better. Harry had warned you ahead of time that these people don’t actually care about anything going on, it’s all for show. Who can donate the most money while keeping up appearances. Tonight was about the benefit of the city, meaning whoever donated the most money basically had the mayor at their mercy. Harry had been the highest donor for the last decade. Not to say others hadn’t attempted to take the spot from him. But he could always handle it. Tonight was about celebrating Harry. Most people were unhappy with a Yakuza having the upper hand in the city, but knowing if they said anything the funding would immediately stop.

“Harry,” you mutter, eyes roaming the room before you.

“Hm?” his eyes follow yours, immediately understanding your apprehensive state.

“This is.. A lot of people.” your fingers clutch the sleeve of his jacket, holding his arm as close as possible.

“I’m here with you, Birdie,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the shell. “Just focus on me, yeah?”

You nod once, not letting up on your grip on his jacket as he led you further into the room, heading for your reserved table. Harry pulls your chair out, then takes his seat next to you.

A little into the evening, a tall man with blonde hair approaches your table, a curt smile on his face as he speaks.

“Evening, Harry. Who is this lovely specimen?” He asks.

“Jones,” He grumbles in response. “This is Y/N.”

Harry offers the man no other explanation in return. You can feel the shift in the air. So this was Jones. He’d left before you’d arrived the last time his name was mentioned. He’d intrigued you for sure, not many people could sour Harry’s mood that easily just by being present.

“Hello, sir, lovely to meet you,” you extend a gloved hand to the man standing near the table, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N what a lovely name, I’m Scott Jones,” he takes your hand in his, offering you a kiss on the back of your hand. “Tell me, just what is a beauty like you doing with a man like Harry?”

“She likes being with...the strongest,” Harry answers for you, standing from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse us,” he holds his hand out for you to grab, “Dance with me?” he asks, diverting his full attention to you.

“Of course,” in your typical fashion, you still address Jones as you’re pulled away. “It was nice meeting you,” you say, offering him a sweet smile; a silent apology. Harry leads you to the dancefloor, placing the palm of one hand into the small of your back while holding the other one up for you to grab. lacing your fingers together, he begins to sway.

Harry spreads his fingers out across the surface of your lower back; each touch leaving a trail of heat.

“So that was Jones?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “He has some nerve..”

“Hey,” you reach up, tilting his gaze down to you, “Just focus on me, yeah?” you mirror his earlier words back to him. His smile grows, but his worry does as well. Now Nanami knows Harry has a weakness, and that weaknesses name. But he knows he can protect you. As much as you’ll let him anyway.

“How could I focus on anything else?” his gaze bores into yours, a sense of total adoration washes over you as you look into those crystalline emerald eyes. You could see the whole future in them. Tables adorned with navy, black and gold. Roses fill your hands as you’re led down a petal covered aisle, looking ahead to Harry at the end. I do’s and kisses are swapped. Hands exploring dips and curves. Slow, languid movements filling you to the brim. Sweet nothings whispered against sweat slicked skin. Small patters of tiny feet across tile floors. Those tiny feet carrying a matching tuft of chestnut hair, green eyes and a bundle of giggles as bigger feet follow behind..

“Birdie? Did I lose you?” Harry chuckles, his voice snapping you back to reality.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry. I got stuck,” you mutter, letting go of his cheek. The thoughts are still burning in the back of your mind. Every thought seemed so real. Like it was a memory instead of a daydream.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, anticipating some sort of panicked response.

“Just..doing this,” leaves you in a whisper. You place your lips over his in a soft kiss; your hands find their way back up to cup his jaw, making him smile against your mouth. He hums in approval, his hands attempting to pull you as close to him as possible.

“I think you’re trying to seduce me in front of all of these people,” Harry teases you as he pulls away. Your cheeks turn a soft pink at his words. “If you wanna go somewhere more private just let me know.”

“Stop it,” you whisper, taking back in the amount of people surrounding you. It feels as if every pair of eyes were following your every move. One pair of eyes was following your every move, and it wasn’t Harry’s.

Jones stood in the corner with his men as he watched, and waited.

Harry led you back to the table as the dining portion of the evening was about to commence. A full meal entailing all of Harry’s favorites, which had somehow turned into your favorites too. The night had been wonderful so far; the conversation flowed so freely it was as if you and Harry had been together forever.

“Harry,” place your hand on his thigh, leaning closer to him.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you say that,” Harry says, turning to give you his attention.

“Think I’m ready,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you look up at him.

“Ready..?”

“Mhm. For this,” you motion between the two of you, “Us.”

You watch as his eyes get even brighter than they were. He looks to you for real confirmation. The smile plastered on your face was the answer he needed, and so he kisses you. “You’ve just made my entire life,” he groans before he kisses you again.

“Remember we’re not alone here,” you giggle as you pull away.

“Ask me if i care,” he tries chasing your lips with his, “You didn’t seem to care when we were at the beach yesterday.”

“We were in a somewhat secluded cabana, not an open table at the front of a great hall with hundreds of people watching, Harry.”

“Ugh, I already know I’m gonna love when you say my name when you're mad.”

“You’re already so insufferable,” you huff, turning away from him.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He reaches to turn your chair back towards him, caging you in with his arms. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, eyes locked on to yours.

“I–I’m yours,” you whisper back, staring back into his eyes as he searches yours for any sign of apprehension.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you lean forward, sealing the deal with a kiss once again.

A voice booms throughout the space, startling you enough to pull away from the man before you. Harry readjusts, as he pays attention to the announcer behind him.

“Good evening folks, thank you all for attending as we celebrate the continued support from our guest of honor, Mr. Harry Styles.”

Applause follows. Your eyes scan the room, finding Jones staring right back at you from his spot on the edge of the room. You offer him another sweet smile before overting your attention back to the man at the front of the room.

“Harry, come on up here,” the man speaks into the microphone.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry assures you, offering you a quick kiss before taking his stand at the front of the room.

“Evening everybody. I’m thrilled to be back here for another year. Even more so this year,” he looks over to you. “Someone very special to me came with me this time, and I intend to make her my wife one day.”

The room fills with ooh’s and aww’s as Harry pauses. “So, we all owe everything to her tonight, for making me the happiest man in the world. So if you would all join me in raising your glasses,” he starts, leaning down to grab his glass from your hold.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yell at him. He just offers you his devious smile in return.

“To my lovely Birdie, thank you for attending with me, and for making me incredibly ecstatic tonight by agreeing to finally be mine,” he raises his glass a little higher. “To Birdie,”

“To Birdie,” the crowd rumbles behind you. An anxious smile spreads across your lips as you turn to see everyone staring at you. You stand, albeit reluctantly, and politely bow with a smile. The other tables erupt in applause, as Harry pulls you to join him on the stage, his arm snaking around your waist. “We hope you enjoy the live entertainment in the concert hall for the evening, once you’re finished dining. The proceeds from tonight will be donated to the children's hospital. Have a great night, everybody.”

More applause fills the space as you exit the stage with Harry, his hand firmly holding yours.

“What was that?” you ask through gritted teeth as you smile.

“Staking my claim, and also showing my appreciation for my lovely lady,” he smirks at you as you take your seats again at the table.

“I would appreciate not being the center of attention,” you huff, slapping his hand away from your thigh under the table.

“Now now, Birdie. You have been the center of attention all evening,” he slides his hand back up your thigh as he leans down near your ear. “I’ve just been too distracting for you to notice.”

“You are quite distracting.”

“So, should we go somewhere more private?”

“Mm, no. I want to see this live entertainment,” you remove his hand from your thigh again, taking a stand from your chair. Harry stands with you, offering you his arm to grab as he leads you to the concert hall.

The live performer just so happened to be Rod Stewart. How that happened, Harry swears he doesn’t know. But the devious glint in his eyes says otherwise.

He’s performing all of your favorites. The ones you’d sing with grandfather in the car on the way to the next city. And the ones Harry likes you hear you sing along with.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips after kissing him.

“Anything for my lady.”

Harry sits next to you, an arm around your waist as he studies you watching the performance below. He knows you wish you were able to do that like your mother did, but he also knows the thought of it terrifies you. He’ll make it his mission to help you face your fears if that's what you wanted from him. But if you’re okay with being on the sidelines as well, he’ll help you with that too. Anything you want, he’ll make it happen. He thinks tonight is the prime example of that.

After the performance, Harry leads you to the car. Opting for Niall to drive this time, he takes his seat next to you in the back.

“Did you enjoy the evening? Was it, quote unquote, fun enough for you?”

“Oh, god Harry, that was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”

“I don't think I’ll ever tire of hearing you call me that,”

“Yeah?” you ask, sliding closer to him.

“Yeah.” he breathes out, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. He smiles into the kiss so you push your tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. Harry lets you have your fun for a moment before he reminds you who's in charge. He reaches to his left, pressing a button on the door to close the window between the front and back seat. Gripping your waist, you’re brought onto his lap, knees on either side of his legs. The kiss deepens, your arms finding their way around his neck as his hands explore the expanse of your back.

“Harry,” you whisper in his ear. You move your hands to tangle into his hair, earring a soft moan from his throat.

“Please, keep going,” he mutters, readjusting himself beneath you. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Harry,” you bite down onto his earlobe. “Harry,” you kiss just beneath his ear. Tilting his head to your will, every which way leaving your featherlight kisses along his throat, up and down the surface, whispering his name before every kiss. His breathing feels labored under your touch; his skin ablaze.

“Birdie,” he groans.

“Hm?” You hum, going back to kissing along his throat.

“As much as I would love for this to continue, we’re at your apartment.”

That damn saying again.

“Come upstairs with me,” you kiss his lips.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning, otherwise I would,” he kisses you back. “How about you come to mine? Spend the night?”

“What are we gonna do?” you ask with the most innocent looking eyes you can manage.

“What do you think?” he teases, chasing your lips with his.

“Can I meet you there? So can I go to Encore in the morning?”

“Of course. I’ll leave Mitch here with you,” Harry reaches for his phone.

“No need. I’ll be right behind you once I change. Promise,” you kiss the tip of his nose, climbing off of his lap.

Harry exits the car, rounding to your side and opens your door for you. Helping you from the car, the man before you kisses you passionately, pulling your front against his, leaning into your touch.

“Harry,” you whisper, pulling away from him.

“Fuck, Biridie. Don’t you see what you do to me?”

“Mm, I could feel it too, big guy.” you tease him, smoothing down the front of your dress. “I’ll meet you at your place.”

“Okay,” he smiles down at you, offering you one more goodbye kiss.

“Keep my seat warm,” you wink at him before disappearing up the stairs of your apartment building.

Harry’s trip home felt longer without you. He was counting down the minutes until he got to touch you again. Waiting for the moment you walked through the door to devour you.

“Sir, we have some..news.” Mitch’s voice makes Harry turn towards the entrance of the living room.

“What is it, Mitch? Has Y/N arrived?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“No, sir, it’s about Encore,” the double bunned man says flatly.

“What about Encore? Was there a break in?”

“No, Sir. it’s on fire.”

“What do you–where is Y/N?” Harry asks, panicked.

“We–We can’t locate her, sir.”

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