#soon to be tipsy wednesday

[woahitswednesday]

Dum da dum dum

#woahitswednesday #soon to be tipsy wednesday

[woahwednesdayvids]

My tits are so small 🥺

#woahitswednesday #woahwednesdayvids #soon to be tipsy wednesday

[gracieheartspedro]

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 

-

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 

“Always is, kiddo.”

-

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 

But for now, you should get some rest. 

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 

You need to remind the council of all your father does. 

You need him to get better. 

You need him. 

-

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far. 

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

-

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

-

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

-

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

-

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

-

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

-

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 

-

The second day starts off a bit rough. 

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile. 

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 

-

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 

-

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

-

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking. 

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

-

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 

“Right, of course.”

-

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 

levofloxacin 

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

-

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

-

Joel can not do this. 

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better. 

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit. 

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 

-

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 

“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 

-

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think. 

But no, he’s deadly serious. 

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

-

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 

-

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

-

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake. 

But you’re not easing up. 

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel last of us smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #post outbreak joel #dbf joel #dbf joel miller #gracieheartspedro #fic: who we are

[heavenlyvision]

Roommates

Pairing: Kenshi Takahashi x F!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: This was not meant to be this long, I am sorry !!! I know I am meant to be writing for Johnny but Kenshi calls my name and whispers sweet nothings to me (I’m relentlessly horny for the yakuza man). Anyways, it's not my best work but ENJOY !!! <33

Summary: When your roommate is out of town, you go clubbing to look for some companionship. When you strike out, you get an unexpected offer that you’re lightly hesitant to accept.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of creepy men, minor mention of violence (single punch), mentions of alcohol, dirty talk, p in v sex, creampie, omg… they were roommates, Kenshi (he’s his own warning), no use of y/n, I think that’s all !

MDNI

It’s Friday night and you’ve had a hard time at work lately, it doesn’t help that Kenshi has been gone all week and won’t be back until Wednesday at the earliest. You miss him and you’re frustrated from work. So, when your friends invite you out to the club, your immediate response wasn’t to turn them down – like you usually did, instead you shocked both yourself and them by saying yes.

Now, you’re a bit tipsy and dancing the night away with your friends, you finally feel light after being weighed down by anxieties all week. Unfortunately, men ruin everything and one has come up behind you, grabbing at you to try and get you to dance with him. You attempt to shimmy away and tell him you’re uninterested but his hands grab onto you harder. He pulls you back into him and now you’re feeling scared, your heart rate has spiked and you feel like you’ve completely sobered up.

You turn around quickly, trying to loosen his grip on you, when you’ve successfully turned you smack him square in the nose and run away. Weaving through the large sea of people, you’ve lost track of your friends and you don’t remember when that happened anymore. Maybe you were drunker than you thought.

Reaching the exit, you stumble out onto the street, it’s still busy and bright, people moving along the strip to get into all kinds of different clubs. You pull out your phone to try and get an uber home when you see a heap of missed calls from Kenshi. Your heart jumps, worried for him but as you go to call him back, your phone rings in your hand, he’s calling again.

Your words rush out as soon as you pick up, “Are you okay?”

He breathes a sigh of relief on the other end, “Are you? I come home early and I can’t find you anywhere at nearly midnight and you won’t pick up your phone.”

“…Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so early.” You feel badly, you didn’t mean to worry him.

“Neither did I,” he pauses for a moment, “Where are you?”

“Just… out with some friends,” you cringe at your half-truth, “I’m coming home right now.”

He sounds unamused, definitely able to tell you’re lying, “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’m okay, I’ll get an uber or something,” your eyes wander the streets, a group of men are approaching and you shrink in on yourself.

Kenshi doesn’t like the idea of you getting in an uber alone, “Where are your friends? Can’t one of them take you home?”

“They’re still inside, I’ll tell you about it when I get home,” the group of men that pass by whistle and cat call you, your face pulls up in disgust at it but you continue talking, “I shouldn’t be that long–”

“­–I’m going to come get you,” his tone is strained, you know he’s heard the men accost you.

His offer makes your heart swell but you tell him, “Kenshi don’t, it’ll take longer, just let me get an uber. I’ll be home super soon… okay?”

“Fine but if you aren’t home in 20 I’m coming to get you… and turn your location on,” he grumbles out, giving in to your logic.

“Yessir,” you joke at him.

“Don’t call me that,” he does not find you funny.

You pout at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“Order your uber and get home safe,” he retorts before hanging up on you, not wanting you to talk to him any longer. The longer you stay on the phone with him, the longer it takes for you to get home.

You chuckle at his frustrations with you, he’s simultaneously so patient and impatient with you. Even though he’s a little short with you, he’s a good roommate and friend and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

The uber came pretty quick, you get back to your shared apartment safe and within the 20 minutes he gave you. When you walk through the front door he’s quick to come up to you, he had been waiting for you on the couch.

His hands gently move over you, double checking you’re okay, “You smell like vodka.”

“I’m sober, the night started good but ended up blowing. The buzz was ruined after that,” you huff.

His hand holds yours; his thumb lightly brushes your knuckles and you intake a sharp breath, “What happened?”

“Mmm, some jackass grabbed onto me and I had to swing and run,” you’re dismissive, not really all that worried about it anymore, “I hadn’t realised I hit him that hard.”

His frown is deep, “Where were your friends?”

“I don’t know, dancing I guess. We just sorta lost track of each other,” you lean into him, your forehead rests on his chest, “I’m glad you’re home, it’s been lonely.”

“I don’t like your friends,” he’s blunt, straight to the point about it.

“They’re alright,” you defend.

Kenshi disagrees, “They do this every time you go out with them, they leave you behind.”

That is true, they have a tendency to forget about you when you all go out together but it’s not a huge deal. It’s not like they do it purposefully, you all get a little drunk is all.

“Not always,” you argue.

“Yes, always,” he’s not interested, especially since he knows the truth, “Why did you go out tonight anyways? You don’t even like clubbing that much.”

You don’t tell him the whole truth; you had been intending to get laid. Having a good one-night stand was something you were hoping would help with your stress levels. Your vibrator hasn’t been cutting it lately and with Kenshi away you thought tonight would be the perfect time but after his unexpected return and that creepy guy, you’re happy it didn’t work out.

You settle for a half truth, “I was bored and lonely, plus this week sucked,” you push off his chest and look up at him.

He snickers down at you and teases, “Miss me that much?”

Maybe it’s the small amount of alcohol swimming in your head but you don’t even try and deny it, “Yes.”

He scoffs at you, “Go to bed, you need to sober up more.”

You shake your head at him, “I don’t wanna sleep, you’re home now, I wanna hang out with you.”

“Go hang out in your bed,” he counters.

You’re quick to say, “Only if you join me.”

“You’re annoying,” he comments.

You pretend to be really hurt as you ask him, “So, you didn’t miss me at all?” His expression is stoic, he’s completely unreadable, it’s even worse with the blindfold. “You’re hurting my feelings here, Ken doll.”

He doesn’t like that, “Don’t call me that.”

You groan and throw your head back, “You don’t let me call you anything.”

His brow raises, “You could call me by my name?”

You jeer at him, “Boooo, boring!”

“You’re impossible to deal with,” he groans and walks into the kitchen.

You follow after him, “I think I’m entirely possible actually.”

He ignores you and fills a glass with water, he hands it to you once it’s full, “Drink that.”

Your face pulls up at him but you take the cup and drink it, “You’re quite crabby tonight.”

“I am annoyed,” he replies simply.

You speak into the rim of the glass, “Why are you annoyed, Ken doll?”

“I was worried about you,” is all he says, no further elaboration. Though it’s not really needed, you know he gets a little bit concerned when you go out with those friends.

“Awe, you worry about me,” you poke at his face, trying to lighten his mood.

He groans and his head rolls back, moving away from your prodding, “You should go to sleep.”

“Fine but not because you told me to,” you place the glass in the sink, “I am choosing to go to bed because I am tired.”

“Mhm,” he hums at you, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You walk off down the hall to your room, calling back to him, “If you’re lucky.”

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

When you wake up it’s late morning but at least it’s still morning, small wins. Kenshi isn’t home when you wander around looking for him, you shrug off his absence and have a shower. You feel grungy from last night and find yourself wishing you had showered before bed.

By the time you’re clean and ready for the day, Kenshi is home and in the kitchen, “I got you a coffee,” he nods at the to-go cup on the bench.

“Thank you,” You reach over and take it.

He asks you, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine, I hadn’t drank that much last night,” you stand idly, watching him sip at his own coffee. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not… but he seems annoyed, well more specifically, he seems annoyed at you. “Are you mad at me?”

His reply is sharp, “I’m not mad.”

“You seem mad,” you insist.

“You’re gonna make me mad,” he retorts, his fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, “I’m not mad at you, I just… don’t like when you go out while I’m away.”

“I’m always fine though and I rarely go out as it is,” you’re trying to make him feel better but you don’t think it’s working.

He doesn’t reply but his mouth pulls up in a scowl and he grumbles a sound of acknowledgement.

You walk around the counter and shimmy between him and the bench, so you’re directly in front of him, “Why is this worrying you so much?”

“You worry me and it’s not like you have a great support system when you go out,” he isn’t wrong, which is somewhat bothersome.

You pat his shoulder, “You need to stress less, It’s all good, Ken doll.”

He leans forward, his hands rest on the bench either side of you, effectively caging you between him and the counters, “Don’t call me that.”

He’s being weird, you don’t know why he’s so worried about you all of a sudden. He’s always been ‘protective’ over you but that always felt more casual, this feels a bit out of the blue, “Why are you so worried about this? You’ve never been so concerned.”

He frowns at you, “I’ve always been this concerned, I’ve just never said anything.”

“Oh.” It seems he has reached a sort of breaking point.

He tries asking you again, seemingly knowing you lied to him last time you answered, “Why did you go out last night anyways?”

He can’t see you but you shy away anyways, your eyes look away from him, “I told you last night.”

“No, you lied last night,” his head tilts at you slightly.

How he manages to know, you aren’t sure. It’s become an annoying talent of his, knowing when you’re lying, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He leans the smallest bit closer, “You are a poor liar.”

“I’ve never lied a day in my life,” you lie.

He doesn’t move or say anything, from how exposed you feel right now, you could swear he can see you. It feels like he’s staring you down… and it’s working.

You groan at him, “Kenshi, it’s not a huge deal, I went out to have fun and maybe… get laid,” you trail off, feeling embarrassed before adding, “but things didn’t work out that way.”

He’s completely unreadable right now, he doesn’t have a single tell, “You went out last night for a one-night stand?”

You’re facing him properly again, “Yeah but then no one really caught my eye and that guy was grabby and the night was ruined, plus you were home so I’m glad I didn’t bring anyone back.”

“Is that what you meant by ‘you were lonely’.”

Your face grows warm and you want to squirm into a heap on the floor, why is he asking so many questions, “Well… yes and no?”

His fingers grip the counter a little tighter, his frown deepens, “What would you have done if I were home?”

You aren’t sure what he’s asking, “I don’t–”

“–Would you still go out to the club or would you have asked me?” He clarifies.

You think you know what he’s asking now but you want to be clear, “Asked you what?”

He’s quick to reply, wanting you to catch on quicker, “To sleep with you–”

That doesn’t seem like it’d bode well for your friendship, “I don’t think that’s really–”

“–Cause I’d do it, in a heartbeat,” he’s resolute, completely certain.

You’re at a complete loss for words, he’s just told you he’d sleep with you and you’d think he was just teasing you if he wasn’t so steadfast. He shows no signs of joking and you have no idea how to reply to him.

“Stop playing around,” your tone is nervous, you’re trying to give him an out.

He doesn’t take it, “Princess, I’m being so serious.”

Your knees feel like they might give out, he’s flirted with you before and even then it had an effect on you. To have him in front of you, telling you he’s seriously willing to fuck you, is going to kill you. The nickname isn’t lost on you, usually when he calls you that, he’s teasing you by calling you delicate or sensitive, the change in context makes your heart skip a beat.

“Kenshi–”

“–Would you let me fuck you?” He’s unmoving, waiting for your answer.

A shiver runs down your spine at the low timbre of his voice, it’s not like you’ve never considered it, you just never thought he was interested, “Now?”

A large, wicked smile grows on his face, “Do you want me to fuck you right now?”

He’s crude and it’s arousing you, he’s always been blunt but this is different, you’ve never shared a moment like this with him, “Would you?”

“I would, like I said, in a heartbeat,” his leg slots between yours, pinning you closer to the kitchen counters.

He’s effectively worked you up and made you comfortable enough to ask, “Then… could you? Please?”

His smile is evil, ecstatic that you’ve asked, “Of course I could, princess,” one of his hands moves to your hip, holding you. “First, I have a yes or no question for you.”

“Okay…” You’re hesitant, you don’t know what he’s going to ask.

His leg slots higher, thigh pressed to your cunt, “Did you feel the need to get laid because your little vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore?”

You gasp, both at his question and the sudden contact, “How did–”

“The walls aren’t all that thick, princess,” the hand on your hip encourages you to lightly rut into his thigh, “Can hear you sometimes.”

You feel beyond embarrassed knowing he’s heard you getting off, “It wasn’t enough”

“No, I bet it wasn’t,” he chuckles at you, “You got so fuckin needy you were gonna ask a stranger to fuck you, good thing I came home, hmm?”

Your hips grind down onto his leg, the stimulation shocking you. Your panties are well and truly drenched at this point, “Kenshi~”

“I’ll fuck you well, princess, I’ll give you what you need,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing yours, “But first, you have to take it.”

He takes your lips in his, unoccupied hand reaching up to hold your face, moving you how he pleases. You whimper into him, his tongue licks into your mouth. It’s hot and messy, he’s kissing you like he’s starved of you and it’s making you lightheaded. His hand paws at your hip before slipping into your pants, he reaches behind and grabs a handful of your ass. You moan into him, surprised by his rough touch.

When he pulls back, your lips are connected by a string of saliva, evidence of how messy he kissed you. Your mind is fuzzy and you whimper at him, mind filled with so many thoughts of him and his mouth. His thumb rubs over your mouth, spreading the mess more than cleaning it.

He hums at you in consideration, “Come with me,” he says, as he pulls you behind him into the lounge room.

You can’t help but stumble slightly, your legs wobbly from his lips. You feel stupid right now, you’re able to form thoughts but they don’t feel like your own. The only ones that do feel like yours are the ones imagining how he’d look tongue fucking you, or how he’d look when he cums.

He stops in front of the couch and then suddenly pulls his shirt off, you’re gobsmacked by the suddenness, “Undress,” he tells you, “Keep your panties on though.”

If you were a weaker person, even by just a little bit you would have fainted on the spot, “You’re bossy,” you mumble as you shimmy your pants off.

Kenshi undresses completely and sits on the couch behind him, his cock hard and resting against his abdomen. He’s patiently waiting for you to finish undressing, “You have no idea.”

You feel awkward, standing in front of him almost completely bare. He spreads his legs wider and you stand between them, patting his thigh he says, “Come on, don’t be shy, straddle me, princess.”

He’s doing this on purpose you could swear, you feel so hot in the cheeks and shy. He’s making you feel nervous and so horny. He’s working you up in a way that no one else ever has, “You say embarrassing things,” you comment.

“I’ve not even started,” he pats his thigh again, “Hurry up, got me aching for you here.”

You sit down on him and straddle either of his thighs, you’re holding yourself up on your knees, your hands reach out and hold onto his shoulders. One of his hands holds your hip, while the other runs over your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked them.

He groans at how wet you are, “Fuckin hell, all this because I kissed you?”

His teasing alone could make you cry, “Don’t be mean–”

“–I’m gonna be mean to you, princess.” His hand slips into your panties and through your folds, your fingers dig into his skin, a sigh passing your lips at his touch. “Gonna have you crying on my cock by the time I’m done with you.”

He plays with your cunt, fingers slipping through your slick folds. His cock twitches against his stomach, precum leaking from his tip and smearing itself against his skin. You mindlessly move your hips back and forth against his fingers, seeking more from him.

His hand pulls back and you whimper at him, he laughs, slightly amused at your neediness and slips your panties to the side, “Alright, sit down and take what you need.”

“Yessir,” you joke but his cock jerks in response and you smile to yourself at his reaction.

You take his dick in your hand and he chokes on a moan, you stroke him slowly, your hand collecting his mess of precum and spreading it over his length. Getting him slick with himself, he groans at you, his abs tense at the feeling of your smaller hand on him.

Hovering over him, you position his tip at your entrance, not pushing down but holding him pressed to you. Your cunt leaks on the head of his cock and he moans, his hands grip your hips, “Trying to let you do this yourself, princess but if you don’t hurry up… I’m gonna stuff you full and I don’t care if it’ll hurt.”

Your pussy jumps at his threat and he flops back onto the couch, his head hanging back on it, “You’re gonna kill me, you’re so fucking… wet and warm,” he’s mumbling mostly to himself.

Slowly, you start pushing down on him, the stretch is a lot, especially since it’s been so long since you last had sex. That and Kenshi may be the biggest you’ve attempted to take – not that you’re going to tell him that. You pull back and press down again, trying to fuck yourself open on the tip of his cock.

He groans under you, his brows pinched, thinking of anything he can other than how goddamn tight you are. He wants you to do this yourself but his patience is about to tear into shreds, it feels like it’s actively being put through a shredder. His thumb moves to your clit and rubs tight circles into it, trying to get you to relax enough to take him.

You whine at him, your hand on his shoulder gripping him tight. Taking a deep breath, you sink further down onto him, finally taking the tip and a little less than half of him. Your cunt quivers around him, throbbing. You feel like you could cry, the way he fills you is overwhelming and already so satisfying.

Your hand leaves his dick and holds onto his other shoulder, when you look at him, you can see how he’s clenching his jaw tight. His fingers dig into your hips, he’s trying so hard not to slam into you until you’re completely full. You’re gripping him so tightly, your pussy leaking down his shaft, you’re so warm and soft and he has a primal need to have you fucked full of him.

You slip further down him, gasped moans leaving you as you incrementally sit down, “Kenshi~”

He hums at you, his hands move up and down your body, gripping you anywhere he can reach, memorising you with his hands, “I said before, you have to take it.”

You understand now what he meant; he wants you to fuck yourself on his cock. He’s not going to help; he’s going to make you take it and you already know, it’s not going to be as good as if he were to just fuck you.

You go to complain, “It won’t–”

His hands grab your tits, playing with them, “–Won’t what?” He encourages.

You’re breathless, his fingers pinch and pull at your nipples and if it weren’t for your hands holding you up, you would’ve collapsed onto him, “It– uh– won’t feel as good.”

He smiles big at you, “I know.”

You whimper at him and in an attempt to get revenge, you slam the rest of the way down onto him. He moans loudly in shock; his arms wrap around you and tug you into his chest.

He speaks into your skin, “Holy fuck– nnghhf– You’re so fucking~” He can’t help how he holds you down and grinds up into you, “So wet~ bet you’re gonna be fuckin creaming all over my cock– nngh~”

You can only whinge into him, your slightly drooling onto his skin, feeling incredibly stupid at this very moment. His cock filling you so well, the stretch very welcome. You want to fuck down onto him but he’s holding you tight. His own thoughts lost in how your tight cunt is clutching him, he needs to grind into you right now, and you’re not going to stop him. Not that you want to.  

He’s trying to collect himself, his head resting against your chest, he moves to the side and bites into the skin of your breast. It shocks you and your cunt clamps down on him, he groans into your skin before pulling back. His chest heaves up and down, his head thrown back on the couch, hands back to resting on your hips again.

“Fuck– alright, fuck yourself on my cock now, princess,” his voice is strained, laced in arousal.

You lift yourself up, beginning to ride him, the slow drag of your walls on his cock have Kenshi twitching inside you. He’s starting to doubt his ability to hold on to control while you fuck onto him, already borderline pussy drunk.

You bounce up and down his dick, it feels so good but it’s not enough, you want him to fuck you, you want to get railed, “Kenshi~ I need you –hah– to please –nngh– fuck me.”

“Cum first and then I’ll –hah– fuck you,” his head is lulled back, only focusing on the tight clutch of your cunt.

The room is filled with slick slapping noises, your pussy leaking into his lap. The lewd sounds have your face growing hot, your soft moans furthering your embarrassment, you can’t keep them in though, they slip from you before you even register that it’s you making those noises.

Kenshi grunts, “Making such cute noises, princess,” his abdomen muscles tighten and twitch, “Always make such –hah– cute sounds, can hear the way you whine when you’re fucking yourself –mmph– can hear the slick sounds of your cunt, God, you’ve got such a wet cunt, drive me mental –nngh–” He’s babbling almost incoherently, his comments only further your arousal, more slick leaking from you.

The longer you ride him, the more frustrated you get, you’re so close to the edge but can’t seem to get yourself to fall off it, “Kenshi please, help.”

Despite his ravenous need for you, he smiles evilly and says, “No.” You shed tears, actual tears at your frustration, a sob gets caught up with your moans and he smiles wider, “You crying about it, princess?”

“No,” you sniffle out.

He grabs your face and his thumb runs along your cheek, feeling your tears, “God you are, fuck.” His cock jerks inside you.

You continue trying to get yourself off, your orgasm floating just beyond your reach, Kenshi seemingly takes some pity on you, his thumb rubs into your clit. You switch from bouncing to grinding, grinding his cock into you, your heart stutters in your chest and you moan out his name.

Your cunt pulsates on him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, you collapse into him as you finally cum on him. Tears fall from your eyes and onto the skin of his shoulder as you finish. Kenshi groans at the vice like grip you have on him, his hand helping you to grind into him, riding out your high.

“There you fuckin go,” he practically growls at you.

He doesn’t give you a second to come down, he’s immediately fucking up into you, both his hands on your hips, moving you up and down his dick like a sex toy. His hips slamming up to meet your cunt on your way down. He groans more freely, getting lost in the feel of you.

You’re fucked dumb, essentially. Only able to drool and cry into his shoulder, moans and whimpers spilling from you. Sounds that Kenshi relishes in, loving how vocal you are, needing the sounds to make up for his lack of sight.

“You should come to me from –ngh– now on, if you wanna get fucked,” his words slur together slightly.

“Uh huh,” you agree easily, even if you have a hard time forming complete words.

He continues, “You gonna let me fuck you how you need, mmm? Have you creaming for me whenever you want?”

“…Yes.”

His chest vibrates with a growl, “How about when I need it? Gonna let me fuck your tight little cunt whenever I need it, princess?”

“Whatever you wan,” you mumble out, focusing mostly on the heavy drag of his cock against your walls, of the force he drives into you with.

He chuckles darkly at you, “You’re real fuckin agreeable when I’m stuffing you full of my cock,” he purrs, “Where’d that teasing nature of yours go, mmm?”

You hum at him noncommittally, not having an answer for him.

“Probably wherever your brain is, you’re fucked completely dumb right now, huh?” his tone is amused, enjoying immensely how cock drunk you are for him, “Guarantee no one else would make you feel this good, princess.”

As much as you want to refute that, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt this fucking good during sex, or this full. You’re creaming around him, white ring at the base of his cock. Your stomach is fluttering, already so close to cumming again. You feel so far gone; eyes rolled back in your head. Cunt gripping onto him, holding on for dear life. With how wet and sticky everything is, you may have to buy a new couch.

Kenshi can’t help but whine as he gets closer to finishing, “Can’t get over how slick you are, you’re fuckin– you’re sucking me right back in ­–nghh–”

You gasp against him, “Kenshi~ I’m gonna–”

“Go on, fuckin soak me, finish all over my cock again,” his hips slam up into you harder, faster, “God, please, fuck– wanna feel how fucking tight you grip me again, wanna hear the little whimpers you let out, finish on me again, princess,” his words are grit out from behind his teeth, trying like hell to hold off his own orgasm.

His nails bite into the skin on your hips, he’s starting to growl out whines next to your ear and they sound so delicious, your mind swimming with them, committing the noises to memory. He fucks into you a few more times before you’re clamping down on him and cumming so hard you see white, tears falling freely from the force of it.

Your pussy spasms on his cock, the feeling has Kenshi moaning loudly before he’s suddenly cumming with a bitten back whine, his cum pumps inside you, coating your walls. He has cum so much it leaks back down his cock and into his lap, your panties are thoroughly ruined, soaked in so much cum and slick.

You stay stuffed full of him, barely conscious and clinging to him, you’re dazed and lost in how good you feel after finally getting fucked well.

Kenshi’s arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, “Better?”

“Mhmm,” it is better, you feel so content right now.

He presses his lips to the side of your head and asks, “Not gonna go looking for one night stands again are you?”

You mumble out, “Would you even let me?”

He laughs before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, swear on my life your cunt was made for me.”

You snicker at him, “Whatever you want.”

“I should fuck you more often, you’re significantly less annoying after a good dicking,” he jokes… you think.

“You love it.”

He laughs lightly at you, not willing to agree verbally but he does enjoy your teasing. That might just be because he enjoys you though.

A quiet lulls over the pair of you, both holding each other close and coming down from your respective highs.

You remember something and you ask him, “Why did you ask me to keep my panties on?”

“I wanna keep ‘em, could be handy to have when I go away,” he says blasé, unashamed.

You groan at him in disgust but you can both feel the way your cunt lightly flutters on him. Thinking of him using your panties to jerk off arouses you more than you wish it would.

Kenshi laughs knowingly, “I’ll let you watch.”

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

A/N: I hope you enjoyed !!! Like I said, not my best work but I had to purge the Kenshi brain rot before doing anything else <3 My inbox is open for thoughts or questions but I am not taking requests at the moment, I have too many 😭 Anyways, I hope you all have a good day/night !!!

#mk1 smut #smut #fanfic #kenshi takahashi smut #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi smut #mk kenshi #kenshi takahashi x you #kenshi takahashi x reader smut #kenshi takahashi x you smut

[boojangs]

OMG you turned asks back on!! I was just checking yoir blog and saw the button and got so excited lol. Your latest TFT was so good and fun with drunk possessive Wednesday and that YMU chapter had me curled up sobbing in bed like how are you so good at everything yoi write????? I just know we're going to eat when you get to Pandora, I'm so hyped!!!!!! You should charge people money for your fics because wow they're amazing and you could make bank on them, I woukd buy any book you ever wrote. Hopefully hear from you soon, Caio!

Yeah, I was thinking of dipping a toe back in, we'll see how it goes 😂

I love drunk Wednesday! I understand some people may view her as out of character but UGH can't be asked anymore! Let the girl get a little tipsy when she has her wife to protect her, she's not killing people yet.

YMU felt so good to finally get there, and I'm so happy with how it turned out 😭 she deserved that hug, it's been years in the making!! The whole family can heal, now with their favorite werewolf, too!

I'm working on Pandora this weekend, I have such big ideas for this next chapter. We finally get to see more of Wednesday~

Thank you for saying so! I'm still always so surprised when people praise my work so loudly, I love you guys 😭😭 And you're not the only person to mention money to me, as several people have asked if I have like, patreon or something so they can support me, but making money off fanfic is illegal and I'm not looking to ruin the game for the rest of us 😂🩷🖤 My ass is here for fun!

My own book though... 👀😏

#like i love tft wenclair they're totally unhinged for each other #wednesday has no fucks to give in that universe #she's gonna be attached to enid and that's everyone else's problem #also ymu wenclair??? season two is gonna be so weird because i spent so long building my own world 😂😂 #pandora is just 🤌🤌🤌

[alliaskisthepossibilityoflove]

wip wednesday

thank you for tagging me yesterday / today @wikiangela, @exhuastedpigeon, @underwaterninja13, @dangerpronebuddie,

@cal-daisies-and-briars, @tizniz, @diazsdimples and @glorious-spoon🥰

consider this you tag for today if you haven't yet😘

I'm almost done with editing hearteyes!Eddie (my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance by fleetinghearts😍) (i hope i haven't jinxed myself rn and will have the time i hoped for to actually finish soon 🤞)

.... so have a nice long chat between two tipsy friends about octopuses 😁

you can listen to the previous tidbits here 1 2 😊

tagging @shitouttabuck, @kwills91, @gigi-gigi, @lover-of-mine, @eddiegettingshot,

@try-set-me-on-fire, @spotsandsocks, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @rewritetheending,

@daffi-990, @bucksbignaturals, @aroeddiediaz, @acountrygirlsfun,

@captain-hen, @suavecitodiaz, @rainbow-nerdss, @devirnis,

@chronicowboy, @epicbuddieficrecs, @your-catfish-friend, @hoodie-buck

#my podfic #Adventures in podficcing #911 abc #Buddie #Yes I did in fact cut it right there #No I'm not sorry #(Sorry❣️) #Also: thoughts on musical transitions between sections?

[chevvy-yates]

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Got tagged by @elvenbeard! ich danke mal wieder! <3

—

GENERAL:

Thought a lot this week and I set myself a goal for 2024: to be more structured with content for CP77 so I do not loose my passion for it. First I made a decision to only boot my laptop when:

I have an actual idea in mind I desperately want to vp. This used to be the case at the start of the year but along the way it seems I've lost it and instead only piled up my ideas …

in order of finishing a chapter for the 2078 story as some vp is to be added to support the written text (my friend and I share the vp work here too).

if I get asked directly by a modder to take shots for mods.

I just want to play the game ffs (which is rare in itself).

Don't want to force myself anymore to boot up the game each weekend, so that I have some content to post and keep up with this fast living fandom, as it produces vp and mods it feels like close to mass production.

I want to share quality in my content and not end up in just doing quantity. Which means I have to learn to stay more focused on what I want to create in the first place and one after another. This includes get less distracted which includs less browsing my dash and also be less on discord (servers).

So if you really want me to see your content:

a. tag me directly in your post (I do not mind being tagged!) b. send me a link via dm/discord c. use the tag: #chevvy-yates as I will follow this tag from now on.

Hope you understand my own problem and respect my decision, but I have to change something. The least I want is having you think I do not like your content anymore or I do ignore you. If you feel like I do, feel free to tell me about it! Sometimes I do not notice it myself.

Enough of that — now back to a bit content:

— VP/GRAPHICS:

I'll post this boy again tomorrow 🤍

and once I am able to push the button he will be back with lightning:

I reworked these two spotify covers for my two hc radio stations:

they look like this now:

Decided to place Ry's face into them bc they are made for him anyways. At first my intention was to stay more casual but didn't like the simplicity of pic + station icon/logo. Even tho I liked the concept with the chain boots a lot I've felt it doesn't have a reference to 'hell' and 'tech' as soon as I went to make the cover for my chrome chamber Rave playlist. Which lets me come to the next thing I sat down for a few days. I made a cover and moodboards for Hell Bunker/Chrome Chamber Rave:

SNIPPET:

a part of the Ryder oneshot I'm also still on:

His thumb keeps browsing his phone like it has its own life and a long moment later Ry catches himself now browsing his contact list. He didn’t want to call anyone specifically, also not around this time. He just keeps randomly scrolling the alphabet until he arrives at ‘T’. A smile steals onto his lips as he reads the same name, he spoke aloud prior, on his screen and pictures rush through his slightly tipsy mind. Long gone memories of his first clubbing experiences in Berlin. Back then he always had to be home around midnight. Both his legs still have some post-response to the last song he was raving to in the underground, making it impossible for him to sit quiet at all so he jumps up into a standing position and yells “I rave as fucking long as I want to—” There’s a long pause until he continues low “—like you always wished for me, Tommy …” Saying his first love’s name aloud for a second time now makes his smile on his dark contoured lips fade quickly. It’s the moment where Ryder senses that, after nearly 10 years, he still misses him. His thumb has already pressed the contact number and his hand moves up to hold the phone onto his ear. Ryder doesn’t think about his movements at all, his mind just froze in the moment as he moves mechanically. Only when hears the ‘Connection unavailable,’ it pulls him back from wherever he has been to. His right arm falls back into a hanging position, leaving him just standing there in the street. Deine Nummer ist seit jeher noch gleich, doch unter dieser scheiß Nummer werd’ ich dich nie wieder erreichen, wanders through Ry’s mind. Denn da wo du bist, geht keiner ran. Da ist kein Empfang. Ry’s phone is not the phone he used to have back then but he never cared about deleting any numbers at all and so they moved to the next phone and the next one after that and so on.

I tag all that recently reblogged me and those who come to my mind rn: @wraithsoutlaws, @therealnightcity, @dreamskug, @caer-oswin, @ @alphanight-vp, @kdval, @kittenchrissy, @gloryride, @rosapexa, @wanderingaldecaldo, @aggravateddurian, @streetkid-named-desire @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @pinkyjulien, @medtech-mara, @heywoodvirgin, @genocidalfetus, @ouroboros-hideout, @aggravateddurian, @ne0n-rust, @a-pirate, @breezypunk @peaches-n-screem, @jaymber, @lokiina, @shivsghost, @miss--river, @t0tentanz, @cyberpunkaddict, @cinnamon-mey, @spicyraeman, @fereldanwench @86maylin and @morganlefaye79 – also everyone who likes to do a WIP Wesdnesday/Whenever and as always and no pressure! I tagged more this time just to make sure u got notice of my decision in 'general' and that I intend to use my name as a tag now

#cyberpunk 2077 #thoughts #wip whenever #wip wednesday #snippet #fic snippet #writing #work in progress #wip #long post #the general text has been thrice as long as it is now - i shortened it immensely #and now I've lost approx 2h of my time I wanted to use for finishing my Ry fic lol #ach mensch

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

WIP Wednesday

This is from my Foursgiving? Threesgiving fic with @affectionatelyrs coming to screens near you...soonish. Jamie has posted a snippet that immediately precedes this moment, which you can read here.

Thanks to @daisymae-12 @anincompletelist @suseagull04 @kiwiana-writes @wordsofhoneydew for the tags!!!

“Careful, sweetness, you’re gonna give yourself away too soon,” Pez replies. Alex chooses not to focus on the pet name — because since when was Nora sweet? — and sighs. “Just, please, no mentions of my fucking mom when we’re talking about sex. It’s weird enough to be doing this with June here.” “I have to agree with little bit on this one,” June nods. Henry, just on the side of too tipsy, leans over with gin on his breath and whispers, “Mm, you’re not little, darling.”  Or he tried to, at least. 

Tagging @heybuddy-drabbles @tintagel-or-cockleshells @hypnostheory @littlemisskittentoes @futureseaempress @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @heartitinthesilence @cultofsappho @myheartalivewrites @leaves-of-laurelin @rockyroadkylers because you've either cheered on the fest or I want to see what you're up to or all of the above :) (also if I missed you, open tag!)

#rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #fanfiction #rwrb fandom #wip wednesday #threesgiving 2023 #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #happinessofthepursuit writes

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @greypetrel--thank you for thinking of me, friend! I've got a few things banked that I don't think I've shared yet c: (Tagging, in turn, @vakarians-babe @cullenvhenan @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @brother-genitivi @heniareth @zenstrike @palipunk @daggerbean @jtownnn, if any of you would like to share something!) Here is a sweet snippet from that Act 2 piece I've been talking about. This particular chapter lines up with parts of Palimpsest, if you've read it, and makes sense enough on its own if you haven't:

Fenris’s eyes found hers unerringly the moment he stepped through the doorway. There was something on his face—something intense, vital, having nothing to do with anger or regret. The sight of it jolted her, and though she’d been playing the tipsy fool for nearly half an hour now she almost gave up the act at once to ask him what he meant by it. 

He swung a leg over the bench and sat beside her, just as he had for years now, but something new hummed in the empty space between them. She could hear it under the conversation and laughter of her friends, feel it in the moments when her sleeve brushed against his shoulder, see it when she glanced his way and the corner of his mouth rose in a faint but noticeable smile. 

What was this?

Maria didn’t know. It made her giddy, brought a flush to her cheeks. She was grateful for the latter, for it made her performance of drunkenness even more convincing, but it also felt…it was too much. She’d felt only echoes before, the flutter in her chest when he gestured in that elegant way he had, the heat in her ears that she batted aside whenever she watched him execute an especially graceful or brutal maneuver during a fight. She knew how she felt about him; she could list a dozen reasons that she shouldn’t feel them (foremost amongst them that he couldn’t be comfortable with that sort of attention) and a hundred reasons why she couldn’t help herself regardless. She hadn’t spent the last three years debating herself for and against it for nothing, for the Maker’s sake, but this—

When they all stepped out into the night air, she was relieved. It cooled some of the flush on her cheeks, though not soon enough to hide it from the others. 

“D’you feel a fever coming on, Hawke?” Merrill asked from Isabela’s back, her eyes glassy with too much drink. Even so, she lifted cool hands and patted Maria’s face carefully, feeling her forehead and cheeks in turn. “I’ve a draught for it in my room if you’re getting sick.”

“I’m fine,” Hawke assured her, reaching up to hug her one-armed, “just a bit too much to drink.” 

Merrill hummed in acknowledgement and snuggled her head back into Isabela’s shoulder. Isabela eyed Hawke for a moment before lifting an arm for Maria to tuck herself under. 

“Watch yourself, sweet thing,” Isabela murmured into her ear, “that one bites.”

“Nothing to watch,” Hawke murmured back, and pulled away. “Make sure she has water. She always forgets.”

“No, I don’t,” Merrill murmured, but Isabela smiled broadly. 

“Sure there isn’t,” she said, “we’ll see about that, Hawke. C’mon, kitten. Let’s get you home.”

Hawke smiled after them, shaking her head, and when she turned she found Fenris waiting, eyes fixed on her. 

The way he watched her sometimes…it had been wary at first, she was certain. Over the years, it had been replaced with mild exasperation, sometimes laughter, occasionally tentative affection. Now, there was something else in his eyes, some unnameable focus that set her heart to racing again the moment it’d finally calmed.

“Ready?” she asked Fenris. 

The moon loved the sight of him, she’d often thought. Its light was like silver-gilt on the planes of his face when he angled his head to the side and it tangled in the strands of his hair with the gentlest of brushstrokes. 

Who do I think I am, Varric? she wondered, looking toward the stairs home. Maybe I drank too much, after all. 

She knew better, of course, but it was a convenient enough excuse to seize upon.

“I am,” Fenris said, and together they started up the stairs home. 

Later, she wouldn’t remember much about the conversation that followed. He’d told her not to apologize to him—that much she held onto—but everything else was washed away by the way he’d reached out and taken her hand in his. His fingers were calloused and warm, bounded on every side by cool metal that occasionally snagged on her robes. While they finished climbing the steps to Hightown, Hawke wished fervently that she lived a little further away—somewhere outside of town, perhaps, so this walk could go on forever and she’d never have to let go. But of course the stairs home were as they’d always been, the walk as long or short as ever, and when they paused before her doorway they said goodbye in their usual manner. 

For the first time, as she pressed her cheek to his breastplate and wrapped her arms around him, Hawke wished that she could hear the thud of his heart through his armor. Was his racing as much as hers? Had the touch been a whim or did it mean something more? Her mind buzzed with it, hummed with the way he tentatively wrapped his arms around her in return, the whisper of his breath against the loose curls along the edge of her braid. This was—something new. She was almost certain of it. 

And yet, even then, the tiniest sliver of doubt held her from asking him what he wanted. It was not an unkind little voice. It was sympathetic—sorrowful, even, and its words were only logical. 

You’re not ready, it whispered when she would have held on to him more tightly. After a moment, it added: He’s not ready. 

So, flushed and weak-kneed, Hawke bade him goodnight as if nothing had changed at all. She was fortunate, she supposed, that she’d been keeping her feelings tucked neatly away this long. It had been necessary practice for this—whatever this was. 

When she climbed into her bed some time later, it felt almost unbearably cold, too large for her by far, and she huddled on the edge of the mattress trying to will herself to sleep. 

What would it feel like to—

No. He was her friend. It was enough; more than enough, after everything they’d seen.

But when he’d held her hand, he’d been gentle and firm. If he touched her somewhere else, what would it—

No. 

She had no idea what she was doing. She had very little experience with any of this, and having a crush on one’s friend was a different creature entirely than deciding to pursue these feelings. No. Until she could…figure this out, she’d leave it to Fenris. 

Hawke rolled over until her face was buried in the pillow. She groaned long and loud, and when she was finally done she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

#maria hawke #fenhawke #wip wednesday #long post #shivunin scrivening #i really like the idea of hawke being competent and experienced and deadly #but also giddy and tingly with that first flush of falling for someone #and like. this doesn't end well obviously but i wanted to unwind the moments before that #the rush of the fall before the the ground came into view so to speak #and so this chapter started out as a thought exercise--a warmup recounting her perspective of palimpsest/the act 2 romance scenes #but then i got attached and looped all of the little such stories into one longer thing #and here we are #i do intend to finish it eventually #we'll get there

[woahitswednesday]

The amount of times I've almost typed rum and cock tonight 😂

#rum and coke #rum and cock #soon to be tipsy wednesday #wednesday rambles

[woahwednesdayvids]

Will this even upload? Who knows! 🥃

#woahitswednesday #woahwednesdayvids #soon to be tipsy wednesday #shots for thots

[konamicodex]

Timeline: 14th February 2024, Wednesday, 12:01 A.M. Location: On top of Amarin's building in Bangkok. Mood: Tipsy... Depressed, lonely, bitter. Attire: See this post. Music: WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER; Post Malone. Targets: Hundreds of beings, both humans and supernatural, including Pop, Alin, Benz, Marcel, Bullet... [ i heard one was sent to amree, too, but that one didn't make it coz something else took it... ]

CUPID'S DAY

The non-stop work stressed the already stressed Eros. Amarin is demanding a lot from its employees since the Nagaraja project and the Arikun clan is doing the same thing, seemingly pushing through something that is about to occur…

The talks of the total eclipse had dominated not only the human realm but the supernatural worlds as well… It's still weeks away but he feels some kind of pull or was just an excuse to act erratic on the supposed day of Cupid, no less.

Kinna got drunk on his own after work, sneaking to the rooftop of the Amarin building overlooking the city and whatever is beyond the blinding artificial lights.

After finishing his third bottle of special whiskey, he found himself tipsy - or somewhat similar to that state - his mind buzzing, full of thoughts.

Thoughts of Psyche and the fact he hadn't seen his wife in years, not that it's been THAT long - however, he felt her absence, and his heart aches.

Without thinking much, he stood at the edge of the rooftop, slowly drawing one of his golden arrows and pointing it to the sky - was it one of those arrows he promised a person or two?? His shoulders shrugged as he shoot it towards the stars, glistening against the dark backdrop like one of those fallen rocks… Satisfied at his work, he pulled another arrow and this time it was one with the lead tip. He felt his chest tightened knowing what would this arrow cause the chosen person whose beating heart it would pierce. He groaned as if feeling his own arrow cutting through his chest... With steady hands and clouded head, he shot the lead-tip arrow towards the skies anyway, feeling heavy and frustrated…

Eros' arrows rained through the night skies... It would've been a fantastic view to witness only if the human eyes could actually detect them. However, those who can would either feel excited or dread knowing the god of love and erotic desire most likely had a mental breakdown...

The city will soon experience the results of Eros' grief. And when he wakes up in the morning, he'd probably regret what he'd sent out out there...

[ END ]

#closed: cupid's day #{ daily kinna }

[realmermaid333]

AO3 Fic Tag Game :)

I was tagged by: @burntblueberrywaffles @suchaladyy @cosmic-lullaby and @nonamemanga

20 questions beneath the cut 😛

How many works do you have on ao3?

26!

What is your ao3 word count?

125,134

What fandoms do you write for?

I write for Wednesday, The Hunger Games, and I'm thinking of maybe writing some Walking Dead fics, we will see! Right now I am focusing on my Wednesday fics though till I finish them.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

His Little Bedbug

Tipsy Truth Telling

I'll See You Around

Take You Like A Drug

Can't Keep Quiet

Do you respond to comments?

Always! I love responding to comments

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is hard to say, so I guess I will list three LOL. Well, I think first place is definitely A Hyde Only Knows One Thing: Pain. But the runner-ups are Don't Let Go of Me, and Nowhere to Go.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings because I love happy endings! I love peace and love and joy! But I guess the happiest ending would be Smoke Signals as it is a growing-back-together/reconciliation fics that carries over to Say Yes to Heaven. And I also wanna throw in This Would Have Happened Anyway, which is an old Hunger Games fic I wrote that I plan to go in and re-edit soon haha.

Do you get hate on fics?

Rarely, but yes. I think the only fic I got hate on has been A Burning Hill. Luckily most people are wonderful!

Do you write smut? What kind?

Yes, LOL. Idk what the different kinds of smut are? but I tend to write established relationship smut, it is my fav. I write it pretty graphically, but I like to make it really sweet and comforting. I love romance!

Do you write crossovers?

No, but I think they are neat

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!!! Smoke Signals was translated into Thai by the amazing @adogfrmhell :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I co-wrote Take You Like A Drug with my bestie @suchaladyy, and also Wash Away Your Woes with @nonamemanga @suchaladyy and @averyaddamsromance ! it is so fun to cowrite with friends : D

What WIP would you like to finish but doubt you ever will?

I know I will finish it, but A Burning Hill! it is just on the backburner for a while longer.

What's your all time favorite ship?

I guess I'd say everlark because they were my first ever ship! they are just so cozy and forever in my heart.

What are your writing strengths?

I'd say showing emotion and imagery! I have been told I am able to make eyes water and hearts swoon hehe

What are your writing weaknesses?

I just wont shut up sometimes LOL, i tend to give almost too many details and too much imagery. Which I know is not inherently a bad thing, but it makes all my writing pieces so goddamn long lol! I start to feel like Bram Stoker writing Dracula XD. And sometimes I feel like my dialogue can be awkward, which I suppose makes it more realistic, so once again not always bad! i am just best at writing neurodivergent characters maybe hahah

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done this very briefly before, but it was just two words in Spanish for a ritual scene! I would not write tons of dialogue in another language unless I had a beta who spoke that language fluently and who could translate and make sure the translation made sense.

First fandom you ever wrote for?

The Walking Dead! when i was like 12 I wrote TWD fanfic on wattpad LOL.

Favorite fanfic you've ever written?

How could you ask me this? What is wrong with you?

What fic would you want to rewrite one day?

I will be rewriting my Hunger Games one-shots series and reposting each one-shot as its own fic!

tagging: @therulerofallpotatos @wincestation @katwitchwriting @lovepoison9 @thesweetnessofspring and anyone who wants to join in!

#tag game #writing game #20 questions #fic tag game #the hunger games #wednesday 2022

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Dual Correspondence

Summary/the story so far: Sequel to Correspondence, established HotchReid, (for those who don't know) an AU where Reid never joined the FBI but worked as a consultant for the LA field office, met Hotch through that and fell in love long distance. Spencer now lives with Hotch and Jack in D.C. and the two are still happily enjoying what Rossi calls "the honeymoon phase" even though there hasn't been a wedding. Yet.

(Part 1)

(Unbeta'd, first draft (kind of), season 8-9ish)

(Takes place about two months after Spencer moved to D.C. to be with Hotch, and the team is out at a restaurant doing some much needed R&R/'team-building-if-Strauss-asks' for dinner. Except they are missing a certain Unit Chief, leaving Spencer to fend for himself with the team while they wait. Unbeta'd, first draft, season 8ish)

.

“Well, I’m not the greatest with bourgeois small talk.”

“You and Hotch had two years worth of nothing but small talk.” Emily raises an eyebrow at him over her own drink and then a mischievous glint catches in the dark depths of her eyes. “What did you two even talk about all that time?”

“Our unruly subordinates, mostly,” Spencer smirks, ducking to the side to escape another mischievous reach of admonishment from Morgan.

“But no, really?” Emily encourages, and her question gives him pause.

“Everything,” Spencer says with a smile. Near wistful in his remembrance. He ducks his head to hide the expression from his audience of seasoned profilers. “Too much to list.”

“That’s saying something for you,” JJ teases him.

“Yeah.”

The memories take him then. Of late nights, an abandoned online chess game and thousands of lines of text on a screen that go on for hours and hours. Talking about everything, and nothing, and filled with joy and companionship in between. Of calls that would go on so long they would fall asleep and still be connected long after, ticking away the seconds into the morning. Of emails and video calls, longing glances and whispered promises, aching dreams of someday and soon until finally they were… here. In the same place, for the very first time; in the same time zone, the same state and town and then living in the same house. Sleeping in the same bed. Where the nothing-yet-everything talks continued in that intimately small space between them as they lay side by side; still longing glances, still whispered promises, but no more soon. No more someday. Only now. Tomorrow. In the morning. After work. On the weekend. Promises kept and fulfilled and built upon. New memories made outside the text box on a computer screen. Spoken into existence and echoing in their ears, reminders of the oceans of time and distance they both have crossed to be…

Here.

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs, again – unknowingly repeating himself, and the whole table reacts in a wave of fond eye rolling and quiet not-so-tipsy laughter.

“You two are gross,” Emily concludes.

“Sweet,” Penelope corrects her.

“Disgustingly sweet,” Emily insists, then gestures to the group at large.” – and Hotch isn’t even here!”

Spencer was only too aware of that fact, but before he could feel his wistfulness darken and drag his mood down to sit heavily in his chest, a deep voice spoke from behind him.

.

“Yes, I am.”

.

Warm arms encircle his chest and shoulders, the familiar presence so welcoming and sudden the mere touch burns hot, and when Spencer turns to make sure his vivid memory recall isn’t playing tricks on his senses – he’s met with a kiss, warm and firm and so solidly there it takes his breath away. Still sends his heart racing. Because Aaron is there, sliding into the seat next to him, dark eyes only on him when he speaks. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“Don’t worry, we entertained ourselves just fine,” Emily responds, earning a half-hearted glare from her boss.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Rude,” she scoffs, boldly. “We kept Spencer entertained, too!”

“I could hear you interrogating him from the parking lot,” Aaron scolds her...

.

(tbc...)

--

I am starting a new taglist for the sequel, as well as carrying over the people tagged from the first installment. If you would like to be added (or removed, for the veterans) please let me know via dm, ask, or comment here!

#i apologize i meant to have this up like 2 weeks ago #rl threw a curveball at me but im pivoting and pushing through #masterpost and actual posting dates will be up Saturday #THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #but im so excited and nervous and i hope y'all are excited too #message me to be on the story taglist! #correspondence #correspondence sequel #it has a title now 👀 #Dual Correspondence #because im a nerd #hotchreid #heid #katyswriting #snippets no one asked for #i made this on my phone so im sorry the formatting is weird on laptops and possibly tablets

[iboatedhere]

Last WIP Wednesday for this fic hopefully. Rounding third and heading for home.

-

It takes a few games for Carlos to settle in with the team, but once he does, he’s invited out to post game dinners and parties, both filled with expensive food, alcohol, and women. 

At a rooftop bar at the hotel in Boston, after five straight nights of pretending to flirt with women to keep up appearances, he begs off early, telling the guys he had to ice his shoulder. 

They give him shit, but say their goodnights without too much hassle and Carlos is grateful. 

As soon as he’s back inside and far enough from the noise of the party, he pulls out his phone to call TK. 

He’s been in almost constant contact with his parents since getting called up, and he talks to Paul and a few of the other guys at least once a day, but it feels like he’s been playing phone tag with TK. 

There have been missed calls on both sides, and text messages answered hours after they’ve been sent. A like and an occasional comment on an Instagram post is as close as they’ve gotten to real contact in over a week. 

“Hello?”

Carlos nearly drops the phone when he hears TK’s voice. 

“Shit,” he says as he scrambles to keep hold of it. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Sorry,” TK apologizes as Carlos pushes the button for the elevator. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m glad you did. Shouldn’t you be at a game right now? Did I screw the timezones up?”

“We got rained out,” TK tells him. “Isn’t it a little late for you?”

Carlos steps out of the way as a group of party goers spill out of the elevator, already tipsy and laughing. 

“Where are you?”

He gets in the elevator car and pushes the button for his floor. “I’m going back to my room. The guys dragged me to a bar.”

TK hums. “That makes sense. We’ve all seen the photos of you getting into that cab with that woman.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, “you mean the ones where I made sure the woman got into a cab safely because she was drunk and then I closed the door and got into my own cab which took me in the opposite direction back to the hotel.”

“That’s not as good of a story.”

Carlos laughs. “I’m glad my parents know the truth. I’d be getting calls from my mother about how she raised me better.”

TK laughs. “How are your parents? I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been called up but I bet they act like it is.”

“They do. My dad is getting everyone he works with to watch and they’re throwing viewing parties at the ranch. They’re coming out to Houston for a few games next week, if I’m still here. They’re treating it like a mini vacation. They don’t get many of those.”

“That’s sweet that they’re still so excited. But what about you?”

“What about me?” Carlos asks as the doors open and he steps into the hallway. 

“Are you still excited? Are you doing okay?”

Carlos stops in the middle of the hall. “Yeah. I mean, this is the dream, right?”

“Is it?”

Carlos sighs and keeps walking. “I love it,” Carlos says honestly. “I love playing anywhere but the stadiums are so big and the crowds are so loud and the money,” he admits, “I know that makes me sound like an asshole—-.”

“It doesn’t,” TK assures him. “It’s not wrong to enjoy that.”

“The guys are great, really, they keep trying to hook me up with women but they don’t know any better. They mean well. It makes my parents happy when I’m here and I am happy but….” He trails off as he gets his door open then leans back against it. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” TK says and sighs in relief. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I feel like a dick because part of me knows that you’re doing what you’re supposed to do and I want you to be happy and have all that you deserve, and you deserve so much, but then the other half of me wants you here because I hate staying in this room all alone.”

“Most guys like privacy.”

“Yeah, they keep telling me I can bring a guy back but I can’t tell them that the only guy I want to do that with is halfway across the country.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, “so you miss me-miss me?”

TK snorts. “Yeah, for sure. I’m getting myself off to that night but I know the real thing would be so much better.”

Carlos groans and pushes himself away from the door toward the bed. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not? You’ve got that big hotel room all to yourself, don’t you? I’m all alone somewhere in Oklahoma. Seems like we shouldn’t let this moment go to waste.”

Carlos sits down on the edge of the bed and starts to unbutton his shirt. 

“So…” Carlos starts and TK bursts out laughing. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t done this before.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Carlos tells him as he pulls his shirt from his pants and tries to awkwardly take it off with one hand. “It’s been awhile.”

“You definitely knew what you were doing that night.”

“It’s easy with you,” Carlos says. He gets his shirt off then toes off his shoes and stands up. “How undressed are you?”

“That’s a weird way of asking me what I’m wearing.”

“I’m still in my suit and I’m trying to take it off—.”

“Hot,” TK interrupts and Carlos rolls his eyes. 

“—but it’s hard to do with one hand.”

“Then put the phone down for a second. Or, better yet…”

The call disconnects only to ring as a FaceTime call a second later.

“Hi,” TK says when Carlos answers. He’s propped up against the headboard, already shirtless. “Let me watch.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #wip wednesday

[morewinepod]

Hooray for making it to the weekend! Candi returned this week to celebrate an exciting milestone - Episode 100! To mark this special occasion, we discussed the pilot episode of one of my favorite series of all time, HBO’s Rome.

Many thanks to each and every guest who gave their time to the podcast. Very special thanks to @stickykeys633 for getting me through the tough transition period in fall of 2021.

And many thanks to all of our listeners. Your support is truly appreciated.

Candi and I will definitely be revisiting Rome again soon. In the meantime, check out the bonus section at the end of the episode where we talk about the series beyond the pilot. And true to brand, I had way more wine than food when recording so I’m a wee bit tipsy by the end of the 😬

#dopeblackpods #podsincolor #black tumblr #hbo max #hbo #Rome #hbo rome #rome hbo #ray stevenson #titus pullo #kevin mckidd #lucius vorenus #james purefoy #ciaran hinds #polly walker #atia of the julii #tobias menzies #kerry condon #indira varma #lyndsey marshal #lindsay duncan #pullo x vorenus