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#( i just miss apocalypse based things )
saintshemoved · 2 years
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i know i said not a lot of ooc today , and i swear im working on things after homework. but my brain also says make a tlou oc?? 
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sprintingowl · 1 year
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What Non DnD TTRPGs Feel Like
Okay, quick thread about what playing different non DnD ttrpgs feels like.
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Pathfinder
This is DnD. It feels like DnD. It's like going to a slightly different church. Some of the words used during the service are different, but at the end of it the pulpit turns out to be a mimic and you cast Entangle and summon your direwolf.
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Fate
This is Rule Of Cool with additional rules. The GM has powers to one-up you or lead you into temptation, but you have powers to one-up the GM, and all these powers use the same kind of token that you ultimately shuffle back and forth.
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Savage Worlds
Handwave-style DnD (positive connotation.)
The GM has a lot of freedom to pick genre and setting, and the gameplay is sleeker, rule-of-cool-ier without losing meaningful combat or character building.
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Call Of Cthulhu
You may not be an old librarian, but you sure are built like one. Most acts of violence can flatten you in a couple of hits, but violence doesn't happen often. It's the punctuation mark at the end of a long sentence. Atmosphere and pacing rule over this land.
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World Of Darkness
This is a game about getting deep into your character's headspace. It's about figuring out who they are and roleplaying them passionately. Your backstory choices and powers have a huge affect on how you interact with the world around you.
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Warhammer Fantasy / Dark Heresy
You are Scrumbles McGrumbles, a walking heap of morbidity and washed-up soldiering. You are trying to find your place in a world that's having an even worse day than you are. Your best friend is a ratcatcher. Together you will be heroes.
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OSR (Mork Borg, Mausritter, Into The Odd, Dungeon Crawl Classics, Labyrinth Lord, Cairn, tons more)
DnD boiled down to two components: GMing + Making A Guy. GMing is made as easy as possible and PCs are somewhat disposable, so the story is the hijinks you get into together.
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Powered By The Apocalypse (Masks, Nahual, Monsterhearts, Pasion De Las Pasiones, tons more)
The goal is to get into trouble and stir up drama. Succeeding on a roll with no consequences is rare, but when you fail you fail forward into even bigger, messier drama.
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Blades In The Dark
You go on missions and then return to your base. The missions are about choices as much as about rolls, and you build your base together to make yourselves more powerful as a squad.
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Trophy
Your goal is to lose. Specifically, it's to lose in a dramatic and harrowing fashion that sticks with everyone at the table. Think movies like Annihilation, but as oneshot games.
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Golden Sky Stories
You like everyone at the table with you. When someone does something adorable, you can award them exp. The highlight of the session is someone getting flustered and/or speaking in a squeaky voice.
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Ryuutama
You are going on a journey and helping other people along the way. Important choices include packing lunch, wearing appropriate clothing, and completely filling your canteen. Combat is a cozy, pastel color jrpg.
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The Indie
There are so, so many games that are just completely their own thing, and that I can't squeeze into a single thread. If you discover you like game mechanics and you want to Get Weird with seeing what they can do, there is an entire scene here waiting to welcome you.
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Stuff I Missed
There's lots of stuff I haven't played, or didn't remember in the moment, or absolutely love but it would take a whole thread to explain why I love it. I will do more game recommendations in the future, but you can also comment systems you like below!
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groguspicklejar · 5 months
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part 9 of zombie!ghost
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creating the vaccine was a success. after two months of trial and error, the first batch of vaccines were tested on three people and thankfully, the only side effects were dizziness, vomiting and fatigue. other than that, they turned out fine.
it took a lot of arguing to actually see if it worked. Vargas wasn't keen on letting his soldiers go out of the secured military base. understandably so, these were his friends. people he was close to.
it was hard enough for him to watch them volunteer for the vaccine trials. now he has to watch them get bitten.
the reason why they had to leave the base was because Simon had a broken jaw and with a broken jaw, he can't bite. so they had to find a different subject.
meanwhile, Price had to stand his ground for the first few trials of the cure not to be conducted on his Lieutenant. his reasoning being that he can't risk it killing Simon when they were so close to getting him back to normal.
fair.
so they had to go for the next best thing: finding another test subject to work on. which wasn't hard. zombies are never in short supply. they did find one near by and lured it close enough to snare and bring back alive.
"it's like fishing." Soap grinned as he watched Rudy and a few others haul an agitated infected into the base. "Simon likes fishing."
"oh?" you perked up, glancing at your sentinel. "we went fishing a bunch of times, Si. why didn't you tell me?"
you ask as if you expect a worded response. all you got was a low grunt from him and both you and Soap chuckled.
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it was easier to find more undead to experiment on if you're immune. the only way you all knew that the vaccine worked was because of Rudy. he'd gotten bitten and thankfully, he didn't turn. granted, Rudy didn't do it on purpose but it didn't stop Colonel Vargas from giving him an earful for not being careful enough.
weeks go by and tests on the subject aren't going too great. Price was right not to let Simon go first for the cure trials. the first subject died. the second one went mad in containment and hit her head repeatedly against the glass till she killed herself.
you didn't stick around to find out what happened to the third.
it's scary to think about. you feel guilty that your friend, Simon, wasn't one of the people who went through all that.
"do you think we'll find a cure, Captain?" you asked him, looking into the sunset on the rooftop.
Captain Price leans on the railing and blows out a puff of smoke. it's oddly impressive how he's managed to get his hands on a pack of cigars in this apocalypse.
"i have faith in Alejandro and his team." he sighs, glancing at you. "and you should too."
"i do." your voice comes off a little too high, cheeks heating at his observation. you wrap your hands around yourself when the cold breeze washes over you. "i just want all this to be over."
you want a day to yourself. no military bases. no raiders. no undead. just you in a hot bathtub, reading some raunchy romance novel. just you in your own little place where everything is... normal. that's all you want.
maybe even visit a friend. have a sleepover with your friends and gossip and giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls on a weekend. you miss that. you miss your friends.
you wish you'd gotten the chance to say goodbye to them before the world went to shit. you wish you had the chance to save your dad and your sister. hell, after all this, maybe you'll even set out and find their bodies. that's if they haven't been shot dead by hunters or someone defending themselves from them.
you gulped thickly, pushing the thoughts away and inhaled sharply. you glance at the Captain when he asks, "where will you go after all this?"
find your family first, probably. give them a proper burial if they didn't make it. save them if they're still moving, still kicking.
you grit your teeth and swallow the thought down. "probably back to my little apartment."
thankfully, he doesn't ask about family. no one does. they all know what to expect because it's the same with everyone. either you don't know or they'll dead.
"and you?" you return. "where will you go?"
he chuckles lightly, glancing below. you follow his gaze and find Soap and Gaz circling around Ghost, probably fighting over the last can of cookies again. Gaz has the box, using Ghost as a shield. it's Soap who's snarling at him to give them to him.
"i'll probably stay here to make sure my boys are all safe." your eyes shift back to Price.
you smile at the fondness in his gaze. his boys.
he must've been devastated when he lost Simon. you can imagine his pain, losing a good friend. fighting to keep the others safe.
but he was lucky. he had a gun and he knew how to use it. when the world ended, you had nothing. and then you lost everything because of it. if you'd had Captain's tenacity and his killer instinct, maybe you might have saved your own circle of people, instead of roaming this dying world with a hollow ache in your chest.
an ache that currently being filled by one undead man and his comrades. his people.
god, Captain Price really is a lucky man. you hope that he doesn't take that for granted.
you leaned on the railing and swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears. "good luck with that."
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"Maribel said they'll have to do facial reconstruction." you speak while chewing the last cookie.
Ghost had swiped it from Gaz and well, growled at them. probably because he was annoyed at them for messing around and making too much noise around him. they promptly left him alone after that, cookies long forgotten.
you laughed when he gave you the box and thanked him.
"yet Soap tells me you're not fond of needles." you threw the box in the trash can and wiped your fingers on your oversized shirt. he groans, shifting away from you. you giggled and cup his face, trying to catch his gaze. "oh, come on. big guy like you? needles are nothing compared to you."
his chest rumbles with a noise of disagreement. facial reconstruction sounds scary. you hope it doesn't change his face too much, though.
more trials are still ongoing. another undead on the steel table. if this one survives, there might be a chance that things are going to change.
your smile slowly fades, your hands slipping away from him. "though i guess i won't be seeing much of your handsome face after this all ends, huh?"
there'd be no reason to stay with him. you'll go back to your regular life and he'll go back to being a soldier. plain and simple. and a little sad. the thought of saying goodbye with him lays a heavy ache on your chest.
you sniffle, trying not to let the sting in your eyes bother you too much, but it's too late. one tear rolls down, followed by another.
"i'm sorry." you whisper, trying to wipe them but the floodgates open.
Simon wraps a heavy arm around you and pulls you in for an embrace. you don't fight it. hell, your hands loop around his torso and you sink into him. he keeps a hand on the back of your head so you rest your cheek on his chest.
you don't know what this means. but you relish it.
you hope he'll miss you too. you hope he'll call you every once in a while.
you hope he comes to see you-
"she's back!" someone yells in the distance. you instantly pull away from Simon, startled and warmth flooding your cheeks as there's a commotion starting in the base.
you hope there isn't an outbreak. not here. this is the only place that offers hope to the rest of humanity.
but it's not that. far from it. Soap comes running up to the both of you, bright eyed and grinning like a mad man as he picks you up and spins you around. "she's talking and everything!"
you squeal, hanging onto him, even as he puts you down. "what's going on?"
"we've got our cure, bonnie!" he beams. "Simon's gonna be alright!"
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offer a coin to the picklejar Cure For Me Masterlist No. Taglists. banner by @cafekitsune
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joels-shitty-puns · 6 months
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I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.
The Jealousy Bug
Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.
~~~~~
(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)
Word count: 6.8K (oof)
Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!
Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.
__________
It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.
You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 
You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.
_____
When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.
Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.
But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.
But those days are over.
Or… so he thought.
He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.
Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.
You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.
Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?
Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.
After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.
“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.
“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”
He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”
“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.
_____
Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.
Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 
“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.
Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.
Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.
Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 
Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.
“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.
“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.
“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.
You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?
“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”
“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 
Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 
Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…
Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.
Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.
He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.
No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.
“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.
“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”
“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.
“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.
“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”
Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.
“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.
He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”
“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.
“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 
Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?
You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.
She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.
You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”
“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 
“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 
You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 
Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 
You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.
“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”
“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.
Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.
Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.
_____
Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.
He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.
Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.
He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.
But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.
He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.
Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.
Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.
_____
Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.
You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?
He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 
You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 
So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.
Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 
So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.
Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.
So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.
Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.
At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.
_____
The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 
“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.
Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 
“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.
“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.
“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”
“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.
____
Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 
“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 
“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”
Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…
“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.
Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 
“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.
Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.
“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 
“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.
“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.
“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.
“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.
“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.
“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.
_____
Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.
As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?
Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.
Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”
“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.
Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 
You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.
“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 
You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.
Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.
Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.
“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.
You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.
“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”
You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”
Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.
You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.
“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 
You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”
“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.
“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.
Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”
You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.
“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.
“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.
Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”
“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.
Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.
Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”
“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.
“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.
You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 
The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 
_____
The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 
Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.
Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”
“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.
“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“What?” You were in disbelief.
“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 
You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.
Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.
Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.
“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.
The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.
“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.
“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.
“Mine,” he whispered.
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gatitties · 7 months
Text
Half dead
─Task Force 141 x young!reader
─Summary: trapped after a mission, not everything seems to be going well for you, a deadly virus attacks the world and it seems that your provisional team is not very smart
─Warnings: blood, mentions of dismemberments, descriptive scenes¿, bad words, cliché, death, typical CoD violence
Part One / Part Two
I consider this as something special for Halloween¿¿, anyway I wanted to write a zombie!reader, if you have more ideas related don't be shy to request 😗
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It was a hot day, too hot to be able to last more hours in the combat suit, as if that were not enough, you had been assigned with other officers for this specific mission, you did not have enough confidence to make jokes or sing a small part of that song stuck in your mind, it was the most boring day of your life but work was work.
Everything went well, maybe too well, and of course everything that ends well always has to have some setback since nothing and no one is perfect, but what you expected was that some enemy had escaped, some threat of death or things like that, however, you did not expect a virus spreading globally.
You were pretty screwed, all communication with the base was cut off, all the information was left with infected people that you had to avoid at all costs until you reached a safe and decontaminated area. You feared the worst and it seems like you're always right when you do since you were living through a fucking zombie apocalypse, it wasn't a big surprise to encounter several walking corpses on your way to the base after you were given specific orders to kill anyone who looked rotten.
What kind of time had you grown up in? It wasn't enough with a global pandemic that now you have to face a fucking apocalypse, you would prefer to have been born in the Middle Ages, at least they could have condemned you to death by burning at the stake or some far-fetched torture, it sounded more interesting and horrifying than simply a bacterial contagion.
The arrival at the base was complicated when you found a large horde, you supported the idea of surrounding the zombies but apparently the two assigned captains decided to play to see who had the biggest dick and see who could kill the most undead, they were orders from captain and you couldn't just go back to your boys until this stupid situation was over.
Apparently the only thing they managed to do was attract half of the infected city to your position, which ended in you having to separate and fight on your own. In turn, your luck wasn't smiling on you today Does that ever happen anyway? It didn't matter anymore because you were officially infected, the bite on your forearm made you bite your tongue when you saw the color of the blood mixed with yellow spittle, you were too slow and cowardly to cut off another arm at, yes, they had to bite you on your only good arm, you were so lucky.
From that moment on the infected lost interest in you, they nipped you a little and found one of your companions who was fleeing from another horde more delicious, well, screw life, at least you were able to enjoy everything you could, a shame that you can no longer continue bothering the boys with your presence.
You lay on the ground, looking at the scorching sun, your hand moved to your belt, grabbing a small radio that connected you to the central base, your pulse was unstable and your whole body began to shake, the heat became unbearable and you thought that you were experiencing hyperhidrosis. You pressed the button and brought the device closer to your mouth with the little strength you had.
"Hello… hello here “nibbles” the mission was a success, I guess you know that, but we had some complications on the way home, that virus, those stupid zombies" your breathing accelerated and for a moment you almost vomited right there "ugh… it doesn't matter, I- I don't think I'm going to make it in one piece even though I'm already missing an arm and I'm not 'in one piece' per se but…"
Even in a situation like this you couldn't help but make jokes, you continued your little talk until you felt like your consciousness was finally fading.
"I'm sorry, what I wanted to say is that I will miss you and that I will save you a special seat in hell, I don't know if we will see each other again but if we do I hope you have a bullet reserved in my name before I cause more problems , bye bye you idiots…"
You didn't want to seem too sentimental, but all the emotions and memories tightened your chest, you let the message be sent as you closed your eyes smiling at the sky, your body began to cool, suffocating the previous feeling of extreme heat.
You expected it, you expected to wake up, see the world in a different color, growl, search for meat, you know all that zombies do, however when you woke up a headache was what bothered you the most, the moon was shining in all its splendor, even though you didn't know if you'd slept a whole day or more, your whole body still felt strange and numb, like you'd taken a beating and couldn't feel anything.
But the thing was that apart from a strange feeling of being very hungry and the numbness of your body, everything remained the same, the bite mark disappeared, your wounds healed… you thought that maybe you were the cliché character who had antibodies against the zombie virus, but seeing how some of the living dead walked past you, ignoring you, made you think that it wasn't like that.
You were dead, at least, half dead, your body seemed capable enough to withstand the virus, but only half of the antibodies seemed to work on it so you were in a kind of limbo. You didn't have the need to specifically eat human meat, you still had rational thoughts (to a certain extent because you were still you), but you didn't feel your body, your skin changed its tone to a more yellowish one? you were definitely rotting, besides…
"Is this some kind of punishment for all that dark humor? I guess that's fair."
Was what you muttered to you between grunts, something else, it seemed like you weren't going to be able to speak properly since your throat seemed damaged. When you got up, one of your eyes fell out of its socket, it was hanging from the nerve, you did your best to put it in its place. You checked that your whole body responded to your movements and it did, so now you didn't know what to do. Should you go back to base? Would they kill you now that you know you're a zombie? You didn't have much to lose anyway, maybe you could say goodbye to the boys properly.
At dawn you found yourself banging on the armored doors, you were greeted by a bunch of clipped shotguns and AKs that completely lowered themselves when they recognized you, you underwent certain decontamination chambers and they let you pass. No suspicion? You looked like a terminally ill person, what kind of security was this? You couldn't complain either.
"Oh God look, where the hell were you!? and why did that message come yesterday!?"
As soon as you set foot in the meeting room where some soldiers dragged you away, Price's angry voice hit you like a slap.
"Not even a hello? How was your mission?"
You smiled swallowing your nerves, for once you felt intimidated because everyone was there watching as if you were a prey, you could see that their intentions were to look for any type of bite, although again, no one noticed that you looked like a decomposing body? Did you look that bad normally? Hard blow to your morale.
"We were worried about you, you seem sick, did you spend the night out because of that? You have the voice of a sailor with a cold."
Soap approached you but you backed away unconsciously when he reached for your arm, Gaz and Price shared a stunned look while Ghost's eyes darkened.
"Eh… I'm sorry, I think you shouldn't touch me, I think- I think-" you didn't have the courage to say it out loud, despite all the inside jokes you had made with yourself about being a walking corpse, you felt like it was too much worse to tell them because they would have to be the ones to kill you, the ones to kill their own partner, but it would be easier and less dangerous for them, right? "I'm infected."
The room fell silent, you avoided any kind of eye contact while they seemed to argue silently, Gaz was the one who stepped forward to Soap's side, a step closer to you.
"Maybe you're being paranoid, you just look sick, it's not the first time we've seen you with a fever, the last time you thought you were Spiderman and you hung from a lamp, remember?"
As much as you wanted to laugh at that memory you slowly denied, they didn't believe you in the slightest due to your constant jokes, thinking that you joked even in a situation like this (which isn't a lie if you weren't already a zombie), you swallowed dryly when this time it was Ghost that approached you, you knew that you wouldn't be able to dodge him if he tried to grab your arm, not like Soap, and so it was, you didn't feel his grip on your non-prosthetic arm but you saw it clearly, his look was slowly killing you.
"Prove it, if you are infected, prove it."
"Only if you promise to kill me."
And inevitably everyone tensed up because of the seriousness with which you said that, they didn't see that confidence in your words very often, and your determined look… they didn't want to think what they were thinking, they didn't want to accept that you had really become one of those walking rotten things, you were there, you could talk ─with a little difficulty─ but you seemed as normal as ever, how was it possible that you were infected if you didn't look like a monster?
Ironically they had to believe it by force, since you couldn't feel, you didn't notice that Ghost hadn't let go of your arm, the grip was stronger than you thought and it resulted in you turning around and taking a couple of steps to go to the cells, your arm came off your shoulder, at first they thought it was simply your prosthetic arm, but it wasn't like that.
"Oh fuck…"
Gaz leaned on Soap, Price sat in the nearest chair while Ghost looked in detail at how the bone in your arm protruded from the detached appendage as well as some veins that looked like small threads clinging to the rest of your body since they had not detached completely. You smiled embarrassed at the ignorance that you were now a Playmobil, as if that were not enough, your eye fell out of its socket again at that precise moment.
"Uh- oh, I think there you have your evidences, do you need me to start smelling like rotten meat or…?"
Ghost put your arm back in its place slowly, taking a step back, although it fell again and you had to use a handkerchief to make it stay in its place, you put your eye back in its socket, it slipped a couple of times because it was now wet due to some stubborn tears.
"Hey, hey, we're not going to kill you, I'm not going to-"
Soap had the intention of calming you down, trying to reach you although both Gaz and Ghost stopped him before he could get close to you, seeing this was like having a thorn stuck in your heart.
"No, it's fine, really, I came here so you could finish me off, one less threat on the battlefield."
You intended the joke to be funny, but all you earned were silent stares, right now you felt completely out of place, in an awkward silence between you and your team.
"No, no, you haven't thought about this have you? We can't kill you idiot." Price's insult and his usual scolding tone was the only thing that made you feel back on earth, everyone looked at him, he seemed to be fuming from his ears while the gears in his head turned "From the little we know, all the zombies have been aggressive and driven by impulses towards all kinds of life, but you're here having a normal conversation and being the dumbass you usually are on a normal day, don't you understand? We can't kill you, they can't kill you, you're different."
Oh that part came, you're different from the rest, you lived your whole life to be told that, man, were you in a fanfic? At least you hoped it wasn't one of those where they decided to put photos of outfits instead of describing the clothes or one of those where they gave you an overly detailed look.
"Does that mean I can stay half alive?"
"For the moment, anyway, no one else has to know."
Clicking your tongue as if finding out that you would still be alive was bad news, returning to your natural state of humor everyone looked at you disapprovingly, everyone seemed to sigh in relief at Price's comment, Soap and Gaz were the first to approach knowing that you wouldn't do anything, although Ghost insisted on putting a muzzle on you just in case.
For the moment they could keep you hidden from the rest of the soldiers inside the base, but it wouldn't take long for your skin to rot completely, and the smell of death was something that wasn't so easy to hide, they were playing against time until someone found you and inform it, seeing your unusual behavior as a zombie would surely draw the attention of the scientists and these guys wouldn't be willing to have you tortured in the name of science and then not get a shitty cure, they weren't risking that for you.
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kindlingkeen · 1 month
Note
It kills me that rhato has Jason having spent all this time in the mountains with the all caste meditating and working through his inner conflicts and he winds up able to manifest his soul into swords that kill true evil and then he hardly uses them. Also what is true evil? Since it is his soul is it based on his understanding of evil? If so then DC let my boy kill the joker with his soul swords! You owe him one after like 40 years of classism and victim blaming and disrespect!
Friend, I’m afraid you and I are going to be waiting a looooong time for dc to do right by Jason. Pretty sure the world economy will be collapsing in the face of a second viral apocalypse, and dc will still be happily publishing bullshit dragging Jay through the mud.
I totally agree, the all blades are such a missed opportunity. I love the idea of Jason ‘Robin gives me magic’ Todd as Red ‘I’m actually fucking magic’ Hood. And they would totally shish kabob the joker. He’s true evil by anyone’s definition.
In fact, given the joker’s cockroach like tendency to come back from just about anything, seems like magic soul swords are just the thing to kill him dead for good. And is it really murder if it’s done with magic soul swords? Sounds like divine intervention to me. Batman can’t throw you in Arkham for carrying out spiritual destiny, right? Hmm … this is sounding more and more like a good fic prompt 👀
Thanks for the ask, anon!! 💙
����🔥🗡️🤡☠️
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catgirlforeskin · 1 year
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Since Wizards of the Coast is torpedoing all the good-will they have with DnD to wring more money out of it, I want to make a guide for people who recognize they should jump ship, but don’t know alternatives.
If you’re deeply invested in DnD and want something as similar as possible, Pathfinder 2 is what you want. It’s the next biggest game in the tabletop scene (in the US), you can find physical copies in stores easily, and Paizo allows free resources online to exist without constant threat of being taken down like WotC does. It will remain free to play on any VTT while DnD will require you to subscribe to their proprietary one.
Most importantly, though, it improves on almost every aspect of DnD. Combat and class balance is extremely well thought out and makes all combats engaging and difficult in a fun way, requiring teamwork and clever thinking. Roleplay is integrated into character creation and play better, and you no longer have to choose between being good in combat or exploration or roleplay, you get to play and feel useful during all aspects of the game. It’s hard to emphasize how much better it is without just playing, if you still want something like DnD, play Pathfinder 2.
If you like high fantasy adventuring but are willing to get more out there, Fellowship and Dungeon World are good options. Fellowship is a more free-form adventure game focused on creating a cinematic experience over getting bogged-down in rules-heavy play. If you want to play a Lord of the Rings style campaign and have it feel like the movies, Fellowship is the way to go.
Dungeon World is called “Powered by the Apocalypse” which means it was inspired by Apocalypse World, an amazing ttrpg that revolutionized the scene and became the gold standard for interweaving roleplay and gameplay. Dungeon World is meant to be a bridge between DnD and indie rpgs, and it’s good for that, though there are better PbtA games. It’s a good introduction to principles like failing forward and playing to find out what happens (and hell, a good introduction to games having principles lol). There’s also an Avatar the Last Airbender licensed PbtA game that’s very good, if that’s your thing!
Speaking of licensed games, Free League Publishing sets the benchmark for rpgs built for existing intellectual properties, and while I haven’t played all of their games, I’m a big fan of what I have played. They also have independent settings, like Twilight 2000, a really good apocalypse survival game set in a collapsing warfront between an alternate-history NATO and Soviet Union as the two dying empires bring all of society down in their death spiral. I’m using it as the base for my Halo rpg, it’s very good.
Blades in the Dark is another big name in the indie scene, and for good reason. It’s a heist game that has been adapted to lots of other settings (games that say they’re “Forged in the Dark” take inspiration here) and it’s clear to see why so many have used it as a foundation once you’ve played, it’s an exciting crime procedural where you play a group of scoundrels punching above your weight and facing the consequences
There’s a million other amazing rpgs I could mention here, and I’m sure people will talk about plenty of lovely ones I’ve missed in the notes, but I think the most important thing I want to convey with this is that there’s a whole world of diverse and interesting rpgs at all levels of production, from big corporate teams to one girl with a laptop who barely knows how to make a pdf, and there’s no better time to start exploring them.
A common refrain is that DnD can be modified to do anything, but once you’ve played other rpgs you’ll see why that’s not true, and why those creative efforts would be better spent in other systems. Hacking rpgs is as old a tradition as rpgs themselves, but if the only tools you know are DnD, you’re being limited with what you can create more than you could possibly know. There’s no better time to leave this Plato’s Cave and see the beauty and wonder of the whole ttrpg scene
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elthecreator · 1 month
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A/N: Hi my loves<33
HI GUYSSSS IM NOT DEADDD LMAOOOOO. Girllll It’s been a LONGGGGGGGG ass couple of months. So many things of happened, school has been the reason I haven’t written jack shit in so long bro. BUT SUMMER IS ALMOST HEREEE. So I’m starting to make time for my hobbies again!! I have missed so much ugh. I had just started to feel like I was fitting in. But I will try to write a lot more, just be patient with me please 💞. I have gained so much love of my writing even WHILE I was gone!!! Y’all inspire me to continue writing.
I love youuu. I hope you guys enjoy this for right now. Feel free to fill up my inbox with request! I’m still filling them out. (Doesn’t just have to be NSFW.) ANYWAY BYEEE I HOPE YALL EAT THIS UP BECAUSE I PUT MY LEFT TIT INTO THIS 😩‼️
“You have to keep quiet before Joel hears us.”
Ellie whispered quietly on top of you. All three of you in one room, you, Ellie, and Joel. You guys had found a base full of survivors and they let you three in. Having to share a room just for one night until one of the survivors left tomorrow morning.
But fuck. Ellie couldn’t wait.
It was a bad idea a horrible idea even. But in this apocalypse everyone has their urges. We are all still human with human needs and desires. And she couldn’t fucking wait to get you to that base. On that mattress. Holding on to her for dear life.
“I can’t I can’t. Please Ellie.. I can’t keep quiet.”
You said gasping in between your words, she was between your legs. Her strap deepening inside of you. Muscular body hovering over, grunting quietly in your ear as she motioned her body in and out of you.
“Shh.. almost there baby almost there.”
She cooed. Your arms were wrapped around her and her hand covering your mouth. You made little gasps here and there. All this going on while Joel was asleep in the bed beside you and Ellie’s. Both of you praying to god he didn’t hear you two.
The sensation felt so good on her clit, the surface of the strap bumping into her.
“Fuck, you feel so good on me.”
She said against the skin of your neck.
“Wrap your legs around me. Hold on.”
She said fixing her position a little bit. Ellie lifted her hand off your mouth for a moment wanting her baby to be able to breathe. Wrapping your legs around her, you could feel the heat vibrating off her sweaty body. It only made you hungrier. Ellie still in her tank top, you were in her brown flannel.
No bra on no shirt no nothing. Just that flannel covering your tits. Her eyes drop to them, starting to kiss your breasts while holding still. Not fucking you just yet. You groaned, fingers immediately rushing to her brunette strands.
“El’s.. fuck…” You whined.
She sucked and kissed on your breasts hard for a few moments. Before getting back into her stance. Kissing your forehead.
“I’m gonna go faster m’kay?”
“Gonna make my girl cum for me.”
She said rubbing your puffy clit. Sloppily kissing her in response. Legs spread wide so she could insert herself back in. Legs wrapped around her waist again and arms wrapped around her broad shoulders. Starting to move at a slow pace working her way up to fuck you harder.
The bed creaking at Ellie’s pace. Starting to get louder and louder but you were almost there. That’s all that mattered to Ellie was making you cum. She could give two fucks about the bed creaking, when your juices were already melting on her dick. Fucking you faster and faster till you started to call out for her again. Ellie placing her veiny hand back on your mouth. Tears forming your eyes, the both of you hadn’t felt this much pleasure in a very long time. Especially since the apocalypse, the two of you yearning for satisfaction.
When you started reaching your climax she started to reach hers. Her jaw opening wide and eyes rolling back. Trying to keep herself quiet when Joel started shuffling in the bed. But Ellie couldn’t stop. You felt too good.
“Fuck..! Fuck I’m cumming!” She whispered somewhat loudly in your ear.
Breath getting faster for the both of you. Your muffled moans filling the room. Tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure. The pleasure was even better since you couldn’t moan like you usually do.
Forcing you to take it all down..
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verdemoun · 1 month
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because i like to pretend every single character was as devastated by kieran's death as i was, i would like to take this opportunity to remind people that if you rescue tilly from the foremans after jack's party, miss grimshaw will mention kieran being missing and that she's going to send some boys out looking for him (screaming crying they DID look for him). but that leaves the question of who. based on who goes looking for arthur when he's away from camp too long, our choices are bill, charles or javier.
obviously, i think miss grimshaw is acutely aware of how much bill torments the poor boy and wouldn't send bill after him
if charles was sent looking for him he would've fucking found him.
so that leaves javier. i think he would've ridden out 2-3 times looking for kieran. first time he was just annoyed, annoyed he was right: said it himself 'once an o'driscoll, always an o'driscoll'. the spineless little man had finally gone running back to colm the second the gang faced a real threat.
second time he had to stop early because boaz got a stone properly wedged in his shoe, and javier realizes he'd gotten so used to the o'driscoll taking care of the horses he had actually neglected to check himself. it feels wrong seeing charles being the one to cart haybales over to the horses, and lenny being the one trying to brush sweat out of their coats before tacking them up. makes a passing comment that the o'driscoll would've had them all done by now, and the saddles would've been clean enough to see their faces in. without kieran, it'll go back to being a three-person chore tending to the herd. he had to admit the kid did a lot of work around camp.
third time he looked along the river, because the few things he knew about the boy was that he liked horses, and fishing. remembers how disappointed the o'driscoll was when javier said there was no way he'd go fishing with him - he was preparing lures for arthur (and how the kid looked that much like a sad, wet cat javier had tossed a bag of crickets at him (was it an apology?), and kieran was happy again because it was much better bait for the local bluegill population than the worms he picked out of the dirt) it became another thing to tease him over, maybe they'd go fishing together.
post horsemen, apocalypses, javier is angry. he's ready to ride out and hunt down the o'driscolls himself, to hit them back even though it's the wrong move. because damnit, kieran was one of them. that meant even if he was a damned o'driscoll, he was part of the gang: the closest thing to family javier had. and no one mentions that javier was the one who went looking for him. no one says he failed. he doesn't need them to point out that he's more angry at himself for not looking hard enough, for not doing enough, not being enough to find the damned kid before that happened to him than he is mad at the o'driscolls.
on nights when he's on guard, and his brain is swimming in the whiskey that he was drinking to stay warm (poor excuse, everything in lemonye is sticky and hot), he catches himself staring over to a wooden marker standing alone in the middle of a clearing, buried facing away from them. feels himself getting angry again, because if he didn't get angry he'd start blaming himself and apologies never solved anything. instead he simmers in his rage, glowering into the night because damnit they were meant to go fishing together.
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bingbongsupremacy · 15 days
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Lonely Pt. 2
Pairing: Stranger Things x reader Zombie Apocalypse AU
Warnings:
Series Summary: A few days after the zombie apocolypse took over Hawkins you lost everyone. Once you finally run out of supplies, you're forced to venture out into the town, hoping not to run into anyone and make it to safety alive. Unfortunately, life doesn't always go how you want it.
Part Summary: You've arrived in some sort of community. Will the leader let you stay?
*Not Proof Read*
This Fic does not mention body type, weight, race, gender, etc. If I happened to mess up and add a pronoun or anything that could define the readers appearance, please let me know so I can fix it. Ty!
ABC List Stranger Things Master List
Pt. 1 Pt. 2
*****
" Where are we? "
The sun is almost completely gone. What's left of the light faintly lights up the inside of the van from the front windows.
" We're-" Eddie begins before Steve interrupts him.
" We can't tell you that. Not yet. "
I get the feeling he doesn't like me very much.
Eddie looks over at the man, letting out a small sigh in the process. " And I thought I was the dramatic one. What the fuck dude, just tell them. "
Steve lets out an annoyed huff. " Think, dude. What if they've got a group? What if they bring back an army that wipes everyone out at our base? "
" I don't have a group. " I try to reassure the man.
Steve doesn't budge. " I'm sorry, I just don't trust you yet. "
" Don't worry, mister Sunshine isn't always this friendly. " Eddie tries to break the tension with humor. " You should see him on poker night. "
" We're here. Eddie, bring 'em in. " Steve orders while the van pulls to a halt.
A faint buzz of noise fills my ears from outside of the van. Where are we?
Steve gets out of the van, leaving me and Eddie inside. Eddie helps me stand up and we patiently wait by the van doors.
The van doors swing open revealing Steve and an older man.
I think I recognize him...
" Sherriff? "
The man's brows furrow. " Are you from Hawkins? "
I nod. " Y-yeah. "
Sherriff Hopper nods at Eddie who leads me out of the van. " Bring 'em inside. "
We follow the sheriff down the road and I'm finally able to take in my surroundings.
Old businesses and buildings make up a long row eventually stopping at a large wall. People watch us as we pass, muttering amongst themselves curiously. Dogs roam the streets, some with collars and some without. Children run through the streets, loud laughter following behind them.
It's a community. God I missed this. I didn't think I'd ever see this again.
I'm led to a tall building, something I assume is the makeshift town hall. Multiple horses tied to the buildings railings stand around outside.
As we step inside I'm hit with a gust of cold wing. AC.
" Fuck, I missed air conditioning. " I let out a sigh of contentment. I close my eyes in and try to soak in the feeling.
Eddie chuckles. " AC is just the tip of the ice berg. "
What do they have here?
The sheriff leads us to an office. He sits behind a desk, folding his hands while he waits for us to close the door. " Who are you? "
Ouch. I thought he'd remember me. So much for small-town life.
" Y/N L/N. " I reply. I shift my hands slightly, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze.
" Do you have a group? "
I shake my head. I hope they let me stay here. I fucking hate it out there alone. " No. I've been on my own for years. "
" How are you alive? " Eddie asks curiously. " We thought Hawkins was completely wiped out by the virus. How did you make it? "
" I hid in a house until I ran out of supplies. I went out to look for stuff, maybe make my way out of the state to see if I could find anyone else. I didn't know there were so many hordes on Main Street or I would've never done down there. "
" How many people have you killed? " Steve's voice is cold, distrusting. His gaze is sharp. It sends shivers down my spine.
" W-what? I've never killed anyone. I swear, I don't even know how to use a fucking gun! " I turn back to the sheriff. " Besides, I've been alone. Who the fuck would I kill? "
" Did you search 'em for weapons? " Sherriff Hopper asks Eddie and Steve.
" Just found this. " Steve sets my knife on Sherriff Hoppers' desk. " Otherwise, they're clean. "
" What is this place? " I ask.
" This is our community. It's called The Quarry. " Eddie informs as he takes a seat in one of the chairs across from the Sherriff.
" How do you guys have electricity? I thought everything went down when the virus hit. " I ask, very confused to how everything is working.
" We were able to turn on a power plant nearby thanks to some of the engineers who survived. " Hopper pulls out a knife. He cuts the zip tie around my wrist. " You can stay here on the condition that you pull your weight. We have multiple jobs that need positions filled if you're interested. If not, I'll have my boys here take you out a few miles from here and let you go. Your choice. "
" I want to stay here. " I say immediately. " I'll work. I don't care what I do. I just...I can't be out there alone anymore. " I tenderly touch the red lines that popped up from the zip ties on my wrist.
" Hop, I don't know- " Steve begins.
Sherriff Hopper shakes his head. " Steve, have they done anything to make you suspicious of them? "
Steve doesn't respond.
" We give chances here. You know this. " The sheriff turns to me. " You'll need to be checked for bites before we give you a room. Eddie here will give you a tour tomorrow and we can find you a position to work. "
I smile at the older man. " Thank you so much. "
He nods, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. " Eddie, Take her to Joyce for a check-up and then show her to the boarding house. "
Eddie nods. " You got it, Hop. " He opens the office door and we leave the sheriff and Steve behind. " Let's go find Joyce. "
I wonder why Steve hates me?
++++++++
I'm having a hard time figuring out what ship I want in this. What are you guys thinking? Originally this was going to be an Eddie Munson fic but I think I could turn it into an enemies-to-lovers thing with Steve. Or should I attempt a love triangle situation? What do you guys want?
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pedges · 1 year
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the one where things are messy
pairing: joel miller x reader (no apocalypse and accidentally on purpose gender neutral)
summary: you leave joel a drunk voicemail.
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content: drunk reader. like, drunk. miscommunications, angst, but mostly just a silly little time. reader is joel's neighbor of several years. gratuitous use of the word "fuck." let me know if i've missed anything!
a/n: this is 100% based off friends the tv show. the one where ross finds out. i have not written in a very long time, so i apologize in advance! this is just a nonsensical drabble that ended up being 5k words, so please enjoy <3
The thing is, Joel doesn’t like cats. 
Joel doesn’t hate cats, but he has never expressed any sign of liking cats, at least not enough to warrant the sudden desire to adopt one. With his girlfriend. Who he plans on asking to move in with him. When he tells you, it’s like he just ordered an airstrike to your chest, and you’re thinking maybe you should have slashed his tires before he went to Dallas on business for two weeks and came back with a sweet little thing shacked up in his heart. 
It’s just that when Tommy and you got drunk together a few days after he left, sitting on the couch in Joel’s living room while Tommy played world’s worst babysitter, he had dropped the first of what now seems to be a series of inconvenient bombshells. 
“Don’t get rom-coms, they’re real fuckin’ dumb,” he had been saying, adamantly complaining about your choice of movie. When Harry Met Sally was too cute and too good to receive his vitriol, but the alcohol in your system tore down your usual defense mechanisms. All you could really do was roll your eyes. “Just fuckin’ talk to each other, maybe, maybe this shit wouldn’t take so long.” 
“The hell do you know about communicating, Tommy?” you said, and though you were mostly teasing, you had to bite back a remark about his past relationships never making it past the six month mark. Still, you kept the levity in your voice, the drunken grin on your lips. “Swear, you and Joel think you know everything. Must be an annoying Miller thing.”
“Know more than you,” he said with a scoff, then a hiccup. Taking the last swig of his beer, he set the empty bottle down on the coffee table and looked at you. “Way fuckin’ more than Joel. M’like—the fuck is the word—ret-i-cant. Always watchin’. You wouldn’t get it.” 
“Reticent, and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” 
“Bull,” Tommy insisted. “Cause—‘cause I know if Harry and Sally just admitted shit from the getgo—they’da saved so much fuckin’ time.”
You wanted to argue. You want to tell him that was the point of the story, of the insistence for two people who very clearly wanted each other being brought back together each time they tried to stay away from one another. You wanted to tell Tommy that sometimes difficult things were beautiful, and romantic, and heartfelt, and great. But before you could, he was grumbling something as he sank into the couch, something that sounded like, “S’like I kept tellin’ Joel, tired of him tiptoein’ ‘round you.” 
“What?” you said in lieu of everything else running through your quickly sobering mind. 
“Ah, shit.” 
It only took a couple threats of bodily harm for Tommy to tell you that Joel had feelings for you. Keyword: had. He stopped asking about it a while ago, stopped caring when it was obvious Joel “wasn’t goin’ to do a damn thing,” so don’t ask him if he knew more than what he did a few months ago. All of it was quickly followed by pleads to not say shit and that he was sorry he said anything at all. 
You wondered what he would have said if you told him you'd wanted Joel Miller since the moment you laid eyes on him. 
But, you didn’t. And a week and a half later, when Joel came back talking up a storm about an old flame he met up with in Dallas, how fate would have it that she was moving back to Austin—well, needless to say—Tommy’s inability to keep a secret meant nothing now. 
Now, six months later, you’re left to wonder if it hurt Joel this bad when you went on dates, and had partners, and did everything you could to drown out the feelings you had for him. You’d think finding out he had feelings for you—but was now in a relationship with a woman who didn’t playfully (annoyingly) bicker with him, or snort, or make fun—would kill the ones you had for him. But the universe is cruel, and your heart has never really been one to quit. 
Part of you feels bad for thinking it wouldn’t last. Well, not thinking—hoping. But it did, and you realize woefully that you’ve missed your chance with Joel Miller—the man you have spent too many years pining after, too many nights thinking that his brand of affection meant more than he was letting on, and buried too many sorrows in glasses of wine or bottles of beer over. But worst of all, you realize that Tommy was right. 
So, he tells you he wants her to move in with him and Sarah one Saturday evening on his porch. Then he tells you she wants a cat. And you say you’re happy for him. 
“You, uh, don’t think it’s too…soon?” he asks then, like he’s looking to you for a reason to back out. Every fiber of your being is aching to give him one, especially with the way he looks at you with those big browns of his, but the words scratch at your throat hard enough that they don’t make their way out. Instead, you shake your head slowly, forcing a shrug as you sip on the coffee Joel so tenderly prepared for you—the way you like it; he didn’t even have to ask. 
“I think,” you start, though these words aren’t any less sharp than the ones you truly want to say, “if you’re happy, you should do what you want.” 
“You ever picture me with a cat?” Joel snickers. He wears the gentlest smile, enough of one to form those crinkles by his eyes that you love so much. 
“I think you’d look adorable with a cat,” you tell him, and it might be the first true thing you’ve said all night. You picture it, a purring cat curled on his chest, and someone he loves at his side. In your mind, you can’t help but put yourself in that spot. “But,” you continue, “can’t say I’ve ever thought of you actually getting one. You’re more of a…hm. German shepherd guy, maybe even a lizard.” 
Joel laughs—that hearty, full, intoxicating laugh of his. It floods your veins and gives you goosebumps. If the world were to fall to ruins tomorrow, you’d survive on the memory of it alone, you think. 
“Can’t say I disagree with you,” he says then, a leftover grin still curled on his lips, and you want to do anything in your power to keep it there. But then he gets lost in thought, and you watch it soften. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the fact that it’s gone so quickly makes you ache. He speaks again, voice soft as he says, “Guess I just want to make her happy. Lot of things stopped bein’ about me a long time ago, I think.” 
Your heart cinches. Of course he’d say something like that. Of course he’d go and utter words that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place. And god, that realization hits hard. You are quite, disgustingly in love with Joel. Though it stings, and you’re going to go home and lick your wounds for the hundredth time soon, you get what he means. You stayed silent when he got back from Dallas for the same reason—the smile on his face when he talked about someone he might truly, genuinely like. 
That, and because the someone wasn’t you. 
-
You pull up your britches. 
You have no other choice, you decide, because you’re young, and you’re an adult, and you can get over someone without feeling like you’re going to die. You use your little black book (read: an old Lisa Frank notepad) to call up the fling you had last winter. He’d wanted you, badly, but because there was a night where you thought Joel might’ve kissed you, you never called back. It seems stupid now, looking back. 
But, you thank your lucky stars, or one man’s utter desperation, that he’s still single and he still wants you. He takes you out to a nice restaurant, in a nice suit, and nice shoes. The conversation isn’t even bad, and he’s putting your drinks on his tab. The second one in, you think maybe this could work. 
It’s when you lose count that things go bad. 
“I don’t even think Joel likes cats,” you’re slurring to this poor man, who is desperately scanning the restaurant for a waiter, a check, and a way out of your ramblings about Joel’s love life. You can’t tell if you’re crying or not, though it really feels like you want to. Because one moment you were having a nice time, and the next someone was ordering Joel’s drink—whiskey on the rocks, with a twist—at the table over and you weren’t able to keep him out of your mind from that point on. 
It’s ridiculous, because it’s not Joel’s Drink, it’s A Drink—one that Joel only ever orders, but you could see someone in a worn down green and gray flannel and wonder when Joel Miller became such a trendsetter. Still, nothing can stop you from ordering one yourself, and then another, and then another. It’s like you’re trying to flood your senses with Joel Joel Joel because you know it’ll never be him sitting across from you with the intention of taking you home and maybe kissing you outside your door.
Though, if you weren’t gone by your fourth whiskey, you’d see that your date has lost any and all intentions of that manner. It’s probably not even because you’re drunk, it’s because you’re still wearing Joel’s name on your lips like it’s going out of style. 
“Like—like, I can’t just tell Joel, no, y’know? Or, I don’t think you should get a cat with a woman you had a thing with before you met the mother of your child, and especially shouldn’t have her move in with you after six months. But I want to. Because he’s smarter than this, and I don’t think it’s the right move, especially because of Sarah, and Tommy, ugh, Tommy. Idiot. They’re both idiots. Joel especially, methinks.” 
You don’t know when your date finally flagged down the waiter, or when he dropped you off at home, or when you got inside and picked up your landline. You especially don’t know when you dialed Joel’s number and left him a voicemail when he inevitably didn’t answer. 
All you know is that you mixed your alcohols that night, and you’re probably going to wake up in some version of hell in the morning, but it seems like falling asleep has never been so easy before. 
Hell is an understatement. You don’t get sick, but you wish you could throw up your brain, or at least the part of it that still gets headaches like this. It’s with the most gut wrenching revelation that you don’t have any ibuprofen, or any recollection of the night before.  
For the time being, it’s truly the least of your worries. The most of them are getting rid of your life threatening headache. So, after making yourself as presentable as you can, you trudge across the street to Joel’s house—it’s because his house is closer than the drugstore three blocks down. Not because seeing his face would make you feel better anyways. 
“Aren’t you a beauty this afternoon,” Joel laughs when he opens the door, because really, you look like death, and you hadn’t even realized it was past one o’clock. You’re grateful it’s Saturday, and Sarah has soccer practice right now, because she looks up to you, and the last thing you need is for her to see you like this. 
“Shut up,” you grumble, shoving your way past him despite his teasing. He doesn’t mind, and you know he doesn’t. If the smile still on his face is anything to go by. It’s then you realize that yeah, okay, seeing him does make you feel better. Even if it’s just by a fraction. 
“Thought you left your partyin’ days in college,” he continues with his teasing. “Let me guess: you came over here to raid my medicine cabinet.” 
By the time he closes his front door and turns around, you’re already sinking into his plush couch, giving him a look with raised brows that could only mean, You mean you’re going to raid your medicine cabinet, for me. 
“Ah,” he says. Any other moment, your heart would stutter at the ease in which he reads you. Now, your heart is threatening to fail for an entirely different reason. “Got it. Be right back.” 
Joel sticks by his word. He comes back, not just with painkillers, but with water, warmed up coffee, and one of the store-bought muffins you love so much. If you weren’t dying, you’d hug the man. If you weren’t so smart, you’d probably even kiss him. 
“Don’t die on me, alright? Need you around for shenanigans and such,” Joel tells you, leaving you to your devices on his couch. The pain meds go down, and the coffee does wonders from just one sip. You allow yourself to lie on the couch, pillow over your face to block out the harsh light. It seems that as the seconds pass, and by some miracle, you start to feel more and more at ease. Fragments of last night come back slowly, but not enough to piece together the entire puzzle. 
You drank a lot, that much is clear. 
It’s not until you hear a series of beeps from the kitchen, where Joel keeps his landline and answering machine, do the cogs in your brain start cranking a little harder. One voicemail plays over the speaker, something about work that makes Joel sigh and skip it before he can play it all the way through. 
Beeeeep. 
“Heeeeello, Joel. Hi, hello, howdy. It’s me.” 
Joel calls out, “Did you call me last night?” 
You sit up in record time. 
It comes rushing back. 
“I just don’t see why he can’t get something that doesn’t live so long. Like a hamster. Or goldfish. Or a fruit fly. It’s just so—“
“Listen! Listen. I don’t know who Joel or Tommy or Sarah are. You sound—hung up. But if you really want my advice? Get some closure. You clearly have feelings for this guy and you won’t get over him until you do.” 
“Closure! Oh, you’re a genius!” 
“Joel,” you call over the sound of your own drunken voice, dread now filling your body to the fucking brim. But it seems like your body can’t move fast enough. “Joel, hang up, hang it up, hang it up.”
“I just—just wanted to call and tell you I am so happy for you. And your future cat. And I think you should name it Frank. And because I am giving you names, that means I am getting closure—“
You can hear your heartbeat sounding against your eardrums, but feel it falling to the ground as you finally muster up the memory of how to work your legs. But by the time you’re stumbling into the kitchen, you can hear the worst of the voicemail that has Joel’s face drained of any possible readable emotion. You start praying for the ground to swallow you whole and munch your bones. It would be a more peaceful way to go than this. 
“Because you’re over me, I am over you, my sweet Joel. That’s right. I am over you. How’s that for closure?” 
The machine beeps, and then the heaviest silence enters the kitchen. 
Seconds, minutes, maybe even years pass as you stand in the doorway, looking at Joel looking at the answering machine. Then at you. 
“You’re…over me?” he finally says. You swallow the softball that had lodged itself in your throat and almost choke on it. “When, uh, when were you under me?” 
Suddenly, you think the whole life flashing before your eyes thing is true. Because you feel like you’re dying, and all you can think about is every happy moment you’ve had surrounded by Joel. The first time you met, the way Sarah took a liking to you, the unlikely friendship you formed with his brother. You think of all the nights spent on Joel’s porch, sometimes talking, but most times in such a genuinely comfortable silence, where you could do nothing but enjoy each other’s presence. You think of all the fleeting touches, lingering glances, pet names reserved just for you—and how you doubted all the thoughts that they could mean something more. 
You don’t know what hurts more—the fact that, according to Tommy, they did, or that now they didn’t. 
But most of all, you think of how when you were searching for a home several years ago, you didn’t expect to find it in the family of a man named Joel Miller. 
And you didn’t expect to lose it in the worst way possible. 
When you remember where you are, what is happening, and realize that you haven’t actually died, you let out a pathetic little noise. Halfway between a whimper and the words you can’t yet form. 
“What, uh—what did you mean, over me?” Joel finally asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, but god, you wish just this time he would. In fact, you wish he’d pretend that this never happened. But you know better. You know there’s no ignoring this. 
“I—“ you barely manage to choke out. Because truly, what do you say? Against your better judgment, you opt for the truth. “I…may or may not have feelings,” you say, and then, “For you. Tommy told me you—you used to feel the same.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah.”
“…And you’re over me?” 
You wince. Maybe drunk-you convinced yourself so briefly that saying it would make it true. But by the weight of your heart, and the way it feels like there’s been barbed wire wrapped around it, gripping it tight, you know any answer besides No would be a lie. But because you can’t really bring yourself to say it, not with the way tears threaten to burn your eyes any second now, you instead say, “I don’t know.” 
It seems though, Joel wanted so desperately for you to say yes. By the way he jumps into action, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and making a break for it, he wanted you to say Yes, I’m completely over you. But you didn’t, and now he’s leaving you alone in his own house. 
-
You don’t speak for a week. 
You’re not exactly sure who’s avoiding who. You just know you’re wallowing in something that feels akin to lava that refuses to swallow you whole. Inside you there’s this ache, like there’s an empty space where someone should be inside your heart. It feels like three empty spaces, actually, and you had never weighed the consequences of losing Joel before. Part of you wishes you could have just gotten rid of your feelings for him a long time ago. Collecting the evidence now, though, told you there was no easy way to do that. Maybe quitting him cold turkey would have done the trick, or moving to Antarctica. But apparently, when you fell in love with Joel, you fell in love with his entire family, and three people was a hell of a lot harder to give up than one. 
In fact, on day seven, you’re stealthing your way back inside your home after a trip to the grocery store, like you have been all week, when you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see Sarah across the street, standing at the backdoor of Tommy’s truck in her soccer uniform, waving at you with this sad little smile on her face. One that says she doesn’t know what’s going on, just that she hasn’t seen you in a while, and you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to her since you first met her. 
You look around like you’re going to get caught committing a crime when you send the most timid wave back. It ends up feeling like a crime anyways when the face you’ve been aching to see comes out of the house, followed by his brother, and he follows Sarah’s line of sight. Meeting his eye is a serrated knife slicing through you, jagged, and harsh, and no clean cuts. 
But what hurts the most is when he opens Sarah’s door and all but forcefully guides her inside the truck, like he’s ushering her away from a bad thing. You think maybe he is. 
You rush inside afterwards and think of ways to never leave your house again. 
Hours later, you’re sitting on your couch watching another ridiculous rom-com, the only comfort you’ve found, with perpetual tears brimming your eyes. Tommy really was fucking right, wasn’t he? Had there been some inkling of communication, you wouldn’t be here. But there wasn’t, and you are, and it sucks—somehow, it seems like this will never not hurt. 
At ten o’clock, there’s a knock at your door. It makes you jump, mostly because this sense of knowing dread fills your body—like you know who it is before you can even open it, because you do. When Joel is standing on the other side, those big brown eyes of his full of something you can’t make out, he asks if he can come in. You aren’t even sure he’d listen if you said no, so you say yes. 
He steps inside, you close the door, and there’s a beat of silence before, “Sarah was askin’ about you all day.” 
You stand at your door, hands together as you toy with your own fingers nervously. Your heart is racing and your mind is reeling, but most of all, there’s this resounding ache echoing throughout your entire body. 
“Sorry,” is all you can really say in return. 
“I didn’t get a cat,” Joel says then. Your heart jolts at the mention. 
“Oh.” You look down at your hands. “Interesting.” 
“No, not interestin’.” When Joel speaks this time, he almost sounds angry. Frustrated, maybe, but he doesn’t sound happy, especially not with you. When you force yourself to look up, he has the face to match—brows furrowed, pout on his lips, gaze firm. “I should have a cat right now. I should have a movin’ truck outside my house, I should be living with my girlfriend—instead I’ve got a daughter askin’ too many questions, a shit talkin’ brother, and I’m standin’ inside your living room angry as all hell right now.” 
“Angry?” you say. He absolutely just said too many words with too many implications, but that’s the one you happen to get caught up on. Mostly because it lights a fire in you. Part of you thinks he has every right to be angry, but the other part feels justified in your own anger. “I’m sorry, why the hell are you angry with me?” 
“Because,” Joel responds quickly, voice harder, louder. He looks as if he didn’t expect you to fight back, but what a dumb presumption to have made. “Because you had no fuckin’ right to tell me you felt something about me.” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Joel,” you spit back, voice dripping with sarcasm, but really? You are. 
“No, it’s not fuckin’ fair, and you don’t fuckin’ get it.” Joel steps forward, and for the first time, he does look genuinely angry. But after looking at him for a second longer, you realize it’s not that. He’s hurt. “I was doin’ fine before you came along with that mess. I was doin’ fuckin’ fantastic before I found out about you!” 
“I was doing great before I found out about you!” you shout back even though you weren’t doing great before. Not even close. Still, you want to stay angry, but your voice betrays you. “You think it was easy to find out you used to feel the same way about me? You think it was easy watching you be all happy with someone else, huh?”
“Oh, like I haven’t done it a thousand times, darlin’.” Joel’s words are sharp.
“You never said anything!” Yours are too. 
“There was never a good fuckin’ time,” he says coldly. Your own blood begins to turn icy in your veins as he huffs angrily. 
“And now is?” you respond coolly, before your walls begin to crumble. They had a while ago, actually, but now you’re resorting to kicking the rubble around. “Why did you come over here, Joel? To rub it in my face, tell me that you’re just—just going to get rid of whatever you felt?”
There’s a flash of pain on Joel’s face before he resolves to a glower at you. “I was happy.” He says your name, broken and small. “And I’ve been doin’ it for a helluva long time, sweetheart. I can keep doing it now.” 
Even though it truly does sound like he’s trying to convince himself of his own words, the suffocating pain in your chest is becoming too much to bear. So you point towards your door. “Then go.” 
“Fine,” he spits, stomping towards the exit at your command. 
“Fine!” 
Before you know it, he walks out, your door slams, and he’s gone. 
You finally reach a crossroads. As tears brim your eyes, you realize that this is it, isn’t it? You were an asteroid that missed Joel by a mile, and now you were sentenced to a life drifting aimlessly in space. You missed out on a place to land—this is it. 
Moments pass. You do whatever you can to soak in everything that unraveled before you, and there’s no hope in picking up the pieces. No hope in weaving them back together. Before you can let out a pathetic little sob and stalk off towards your room, you suddenly hear footsteps leading back to your front door. Then there’s a knock at it, soft—quiet. 
As your heart begins to race, you step to open the door, only to find Joel on the other side. As if you could be surprised. It’s safe to say you’ve never seen the man look so dejected, like a dog bringing a bird to your front door. He’s illuminated by your flickering porch light and the glow from the moon, and if you weren’t suffering so, you’d tell him you’d never seen a man look so ethereal. 
Searching his eyes for any semblance of an answer to all the questions you now have doesn’t last long. Because before either of you can say a word, Joel’s hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you like he’s been underwater for far too long, and you’re fresh fucking air.  
And you let him. 
You let him, because the universe hasn’t offered you any other choice—if it has, you’re not fucking taking it. You let him kiss you, and push you inside, and kick the door closed behind him, because you’ve wanted this for years. You’ve ached for this, yearned for the feeling of Joel’s lips on yours, the warmth of his mouth and tongue—the feeling of his hands on your waist. 
Joel kisses you for as long as either of you can stand it, which is a pretty long time considering the way your hearts are racing and lungs are clawing for air. It’s when the back of your knees are pressed against the arm of your couch, and you’re falling backwards onto it, pulling him down with you, do you both pull back long enough to breathe. Though, it’s mostly huffs, recovering from the sudden fall and shock of the best fucking kiss either of you have ever had in your life. Still, the urge to smile hits you for the first time in over a week. 
You start to speak, whispering, “What about—“ 
“It’s over,” he says quietly into the space between your lips. “It was over the moment I heard that voicemail, I think. But only officially as of this afternoon.” 
Your throat tightens. You look up at him, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears, but that ache in your heart has begun to dull. “So why did you—“
“Scared, mostly,” Joel interrupts you again, because it really isn’t that hard for him to know what you’re asking and why. He brushes stray hair from your face. “Confused. Because I really thought I was over you, sweetness. Took me a week to deal with the fact that I wasn’t. Didn’t even truly figure it out until my feet dragged me over here.”
Your brow furrows, but a sweet smile draws over your lips as you bring your own hand to his face. You caress his cheek, running your hand over his beard. Deep down, you get it. You really do. But you no longer have it in you to ask any questions. Joel is here, and he is kissing you, and even though nothing has been set in stone, you suddenly don’t feel the need to carry the hurt you had anymore. 
“Think I owe Tommy a drink or two,” you joke then, and you both laugh. Joel even snorts. 
“Like hell you do,” he scoffs, “Tommy ain’t do shit besides spill my secrets and cause us grief.” 
“Okay, then we need to send Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal some gift baskets, at least.” 
“What?” Joel laughs, but you pull him down for another kiss that melts your goddamn heart. You’ve had a taste, and you’re never going to get enough. But instead of getting into it completely, you just soak in the moment. Maybe Tommy was right about the whole talkin’ it out thing, but so were you, you realize. 
Sometimes difficult things could end up being beautiful. 
So when you pull back and meet Joel’s eyes once more, you give him the softest little smile. 
“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” you say. “Promise.” 
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bg-brainrot · 3 months
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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party
Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party
Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.
Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)
Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon
Rating: Teen
Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy
WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters
Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.
Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.
Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3
Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist
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It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.
Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. 
You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.
So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.
Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.
The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”
“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.
“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.
You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them. 
Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.
Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.
After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.
You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.
Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.
Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.
You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.
That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.
As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?
You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.
Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."
“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”
You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”
“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.
Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”
“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.
Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. ��Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”
He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.” 
“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”
Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”
You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”
A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”
It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.
"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.
"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”
You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”
“Would a hug help you feel better?”
Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”
“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”
He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”
You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in. 
The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.
No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.
When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”
You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”
“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.
“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”
“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.
You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”
“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.
You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”
Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.
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weirdwildwonderland · 4 months
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I know ppl downplay certain siblings trauma a lot but let me just reframe everyone’s for you based on the seasons
1) imagine the person you love the most sending you 185828282 miles away for 4 years to live on the moon. Completely alone. When you get back you find out that all the samples you put so much work into didn’t even get read or taken out. The person who sent you there tells you later that he put you there to guard the most precious thing in the universe but you can't help but think that he sent you up there because you died and came back looking like a monster. He left you on the operating table for two months and when he saw you again he couldn't even look at you.
Imagine being a little kid and being told you’re not special. And then living with 6 other people who are constantly praised because they’re more special than everyone else. Imagine them 30 years later still talking about you behind your back and blaming you for everything that went wrong.
Imagine being 12 and being so restless to see the world and to see what you can do that you go somewhere no one’s ever been. And it’s hell. And no one comes to save you. You think about how you saw your family dead in those first days. And it haunts you for those next 45 years.
2) imagine being transported back in time. You have powers that can kill people. And since you’re from the future you have history books on your side. You have the power to stop one of the most famous assassinations in history and prove to your dad (who’s alive now) that you’re GOOD. That you’re not the impulsive emotional crazy mess he always said you were. You just want him to love you, because whether you want to admit it or not, you want his love and validation more than anything else in the world. You don’t prevent the assassination.
Imagine having to witness all the stupid things your brother does. You just want to give up sometimes but you literally can’t. So you put up with his attitude and stupid justifications and you never get to hug those 5 other people that you miss so much. Your brother says that ghosts can’t time travel. You don't get to say goodbye to him. Even though you hated him sometimes he had a good heart and you miss that good heart all the time.
3) imagine going through brutal racism and dehumanization every single day. Not knowing if your husband is alive or in jail or not. Constantly on alert. Your husband is the only thing keeping you from losing it. And the thought that your daughter will be there when you get back. You didn’t get to see her before the first apocalypse. You failed her as a mother and she died that night not even hearing your voice. Your brother was on the phone for you. You leave your husband for her. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Except she isn’t there.
4) (speculation) you used to be immortal. You got really sick one time from walking barefoot in a field and from something you smoked. You got shot by a spear gun. You came back. You can drink however much you want. You can get run over by a bus and you heal in half an hour. Now that you don’t have your powers it’s different. Everything is terrifying on a new level. Salmonella from the canteloupe and liver poisoning from the alcohol and flu from your brother's new kid. The clorox wipes smell like a security blanke and you can't get close to anyone anymore. Not even your sister. Not even your niece. And it makes your brother sad. You don’t smoke anymore and you’re so, so quiet. No one notices. You’re finally quiet.
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willowmaidsworld · 2 months
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Good Omens s3 clue
I realised I never posted this, although I made it ages ago! So here y'all go!
This is going to be long, and I hope it will make sense. Please bear with me to the end, I will eventually get to the Judgement Day, Armageddon, Death (and four horsemen of Apocalypse) and I will mention goats.
I noticed this tiny clue when watching s2ep3. Aziraphale drives to Edinburgh and the Bentley plays classical music. But not just any classical music – it’s Danse Macabre by Camill Saint-Saëns.
I am a musician and I've played this piece in the past, so I knew there was a lot of symbolism to uncover. And that thing is deeper than I thought. I will be speaking about some music theory, but I will try to make it as understandable as possible. 
I think it would be best, if you listened to Danse Macabre: https://youtu.be/…zrJ 
I would like to speak once more about the scene in which Danse macabre appears. Aziraphale is driving to Edinburgh in now a yellow Bentley, and he even has his "car sweets". He is quite satisfied. And he plays this, certainly dark-themed, music. It is a major contrast. 
Danse Macabre, "the dance of death" is a memento mori. Memento mori is a theme we see in art, and it originated in medieval times as reaction to the plague. It should remind us of our own mortality. “Memento mori” literary translates as "remember death". And mark my words, do remember death!
The composition uses tritones, a special kind of a music interval. (Interval is the tonal distance between two tones, you can play the tones together and/or separate.) Tritone is seemingly dissonant because it uses seemingly inharmonious tones. (You can hear tritones just at the beginning, the violins play it.) Because of its dissonance it was called "the devil in music" and was considered forbidden and associated with Hell/demons/death.
Since the music piece and the poem is based on the theme of Memento mori, I had to look into it as well. Turns out Danse Macabre was inspired by a poem by Henry Cazalis. Here is the poem: https://oxfordsong.org/…bre Memento mori doesn't only remind us of death and our mortality, it also reminds us, that everyone's equal in death. Henry Cazalis, the poet, writes: Long live death and equality! The poem is called, of course, Danse Macabre, but I found that it is also called Égalité - Fraternité (when reading stuff about it in French). This is a reference to the French revolution motto: Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité (Liberty, Equality, Brotherhood), but Liberty is missing. Is there then no Liberty in death and we are all doomed to obey someone's will, The Ineffable plan? (Good Omens book and season one also deals with topics of free will, look at Crowley and Anathema. She has been doing only the things her dead ancestor told her to do, she overcomes it in the end. I think it nicely illustrates the problematic of a free will. And Crowley values free will a lot.)
Memento mori says one thing - remember death, no one can outrun it. And there I would like to get back to season 1, because who else we meet here than Death itself.
Death is one of the Four Bikers/Riders/Horsemen of Apocalypse. But I always thought Death has a higher rank than the others. If you think of it, War, Pollution and Famine all lead to one thing- to Death. Why would you need all three then? Isn't Death qualified enough to do its job? Also, rewatch the scene where Adam and his friends battle them! War, Pollution and Famine all get destroyed by the flaming sword. But not Death- it spreads its wings and says (quote from the book): "You cannot destroy me. That would destroy the world." And later he adds that they are never far away. And he flies of. He isn't destroyed.
Death didn't appear in season two and I think people are starting to forget it, but Memento mori! Remember Death!
I would also like to remark that Neil Gaiman says the whole story is plotted out and that he has done this with Terry Pratchett. In every Discworld series book (the magnum opus of Sir Terry Pratchett), apart from two or three, there is the character of Death. And I think it would make sense that Death would appear in Good Omens as well, after all, it is also Pratchett's book. I think we might see Death returning in season three, because the Day of Wrath/Last Judgement/Armageddon is coming. And this music piece could serve as a literal memento mori - remember Death, it has not exited the scene yet. (A lot of Pratchett's humour is based on puns, and this seems like a joke/plot twist he would try to use. It's my personal opinion based on how I know his style from his books.) 
And what's next? Armageddon is coming, the Day of Wrath is here! Both sides are pretty eager to do this ending-of-the-world thing and after all, it's what they have been trying to start from the begging of the show. It was delayed by Gabriel's "disappearance", but things are now getting into motion, I think. 
But back to the Danse macabre, because it (surprise surprise!) has quite some things to do with the Judgement Day. In the middle of the composition Cammille Saint-Saëns uses a musical theme from a different work, a Gregorian chant called Deis irae ("Day of Wrath").
Here is a link to Wikipedia page about the chant, you can listen to it there. (I didn't find any recording on YouTube, only other musicians using the quite popular words of the chant and not the actual music.) https://en.m.wikipedia.org/…rae 
About the chant itself. It is written from the point of view of a sinner/normal person, and it describes how the Last Judgement shall be. Before dealing with the themes of the chant itself, I would like to say, that Saint-Saëns has used the Deis irae in a major key. Allow me to do a quick music theory intermission.
You can play in two keys, major and minor. These are, if I oversimplify things, sets of notes with different intervals. The melody, played one tone at a time, can be used in both major and minor key. The melody isn't the thing that determines the key of the song, the tones played with it do. And depends on what tones you use, you either get major or minor. Major is (in western culture) associated with happiness and good things, while minor with sadness. (It's not always like that, but for the sake of understanding we are going to pretend it is.) Now, the Deis irae is usually written in the sad minor key. Saint-Saëns decided to use the happy major key with this depressing chant, once again creating contrast. I'm stumbling over contrasts more than usually, so this may be important. End of the intermission. 
In the third and fourth strophe of Deis irae, it's described how the sound of a trumpet will sound everywhere and the Death will resurrect all dead creations to be brought to the Judge. (Death is back again and resurrecting, that sounds familiar, where have we seen that before?)
In the fifteenth strophe, the writer, a sinner, prays for this: Put me with the sheep and separate me from the goats, guide me to the right side! Goats again, there they are! This strophe of course references the chapter 25 in the Gospel of Matthew, the Separation of sheep and goats. Sheep go to the right and goats to the left. I think the side symbolism is pretty clear in Good Omens. Right is the righteous side and left is the sign of sin. And we also know how Crowley cares about the goats. There is also the Jewish tradition of scapegoat. Either way, goats are connected to Crowley, their symbolism of being “on the left side” is clear. This interesting bit can play part in Armageddon.
In the fifth strophe of Deis irae the Book, that is exactly and perfectly worded and that will judge all world, appears. And this book is no other than The Book of Life.
We know about Book of Life from the season 2, Micheal threatens to force "extreme sanctions" (erasing them form the Book) upon anyone who knows about Gabriel. 
Enter a fan theory I read: Nor Heaven or Hell actually have the Book of Life, we never see it on screen. This was mentioned in a tumblr post, and I will probably never be able to dig it up from the depths of the internet, so remember this is not my theory. (Although I find it very interesting.) The post continues and remarks, that when Crowley in the first episode of the second season learns about the Book and the "extreme sanctions" from Beelzebub, he doesn't bat an eye. He is pretty calm and doesn't seem surprised. (He literary says: "That will teach them a lesson", man, we're talking about being wiped from the earth's surface completely!) The writer of the post thinks, this is because Crowley knows that Heaven doesn't have the book and he knows where it is. The writer claims, it was Crowley, who took it as a little souvenir before his Fall, and later has hidden it in Aziraphale's bookshop. ('Cause one single book will definitely stay hidden in all those piles of old books.)
I think this is really interesting because of Crowley’s reaction. He knows what Aziraphale is risking, and he loves that angel, yet he seems so calm. When the bookshop burned down in the fifth episode of season one and Crowley thought Aziraphale died, he went feral: he was angry and furious, and he was destroyed by the fact that he has lost Aziraphale. He mourns and gets drunk. Nothing of this happens in season two! 
So, what are my thoughts on season three? It will get really dark and serious, the Armageddon is coming, after all. I think we will see Death return and the Book of Life will appear. The goats may not be used literally, like on screen, but I think we will get some metaphors.
In all of this, I tried to say one thing. All of the cards are laid out, we have all of the clues. It would be pretty cheap trick to use some ineffable "deus ex machina", that's not Gaiman's and Pratchett's style.
I think everything is now foreshadowed; we have been given all the information. We just haven't made the links in-between. Given the uproar the second season has caused, I think people are forgetting the first season a bit. But it must end with what it started with.
I think we should look at both seasons equally and try to pick up as much as we can, after all the third season will not be based solely on the season two...
We have all the clues, now it's Neil Gaiman who plays an ineffable game of his own devising, a poker that nobody has the rules for and the dealer, Neil himself, is smiling all the time. Ineffable, indeed. If you ask me, he's enjoying it bloody-well.
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burntheedges-updates · 9 months
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over again, chapter 4: first date
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Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, panic attack, dancing, pining, kissing, the smut has arrived, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (w/ condom), mention of breasts/nipples, praise kink, if I missed anything please let me know! If you'd like to skip the smut, check on ao3 - I've got notes there about what to skip a/n: Welcome to chapter 4! A day early!! It’s time for these two to go on a first date… and another first date, 20 years before. And oh yeah, the smut is here. The country night club in this chapter is based on one I frequented in the south in the early 2000s (lol). music note: More songs are mentioned in this chapter! All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist, which is linked below. word count: 13.3k
series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 3 || ch 5
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Chapter 4: First Date
Jackson, Spring 2024
You have dinner with Joel and Ellie a few more times over the next few weeks. Sometimes just the three of you, and sometimes with Tommy and Maria as well. 
(Maria has warmed up a bit to Joel, following his return with Ellie in tow. She’s blunt and opens up more easily to people that have the Joel stamp of approval, which is just Tommy, sort of Maria, and you – all of the adults in her would-be family that don’t know how to talk to each other quite yet.)
Joel manages to join you for lunch a few times as well, and he listens to your tales of the gardens and the stables with the same slightly incredulous air that Tommy still does – you, an indoor girl, enjoying working outdoors. Anyone who knew you Before would never believe it, but no one here except the Miller brothers knows enough about you to find it at all odd. He laughs almost as loud at your story about getting stuck in the manure as Tommy did witnessing it. Right in the middle of the dining hall.
You and Joel also spend a couple of afternoons listening to the songs on the CD with Ellie and telling her a bit about each one. She likes the faster songs, like “Arrasando” and “Fruta Fresca”, and the ones that make her laugh, like “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” and “Pickup Man.”
(You tell her the story of how a woman hit on Joel in the grocery store parking lot, leaning suggestively on his pickup truck, and how she quoted the song (you know, there’s something women like about a pickup man), and how you and Sarah never let him live it down, singing the song to him every chance you got, playing up different parts (I never knew you were a pickup man!). You even got him to sing along eventually. She laughs so hard at your reenactment of it all that she falls off the couch. She and Sarah would have gotten along like a house on fire, you think.)
She scoffs a little at the romantic songs like the teenager she is. 
Listening to the songs is hard, and you notice that Joel skips a couple of them (you don’t blame him, and both of you avoid the other’s eyes when he does). But Ellie brings a brightness to every room she’s in. Even as she’s cursing up a storm about missing her favorite food in the dining hall one night because of family dinner - right up until Tommy walks in the door with a plate, just for her. You can feel something in yourself start to bloom again as you tell stories about Sarah and Joel from Before to this child who asks questions about unexpected things, like strobe lights in clubs and menus at fancy restaurants and piñatas at family parties. It lets you take a step back and try to see it all through her eyes, unfamiliar and new. It’s refreshing even when it hurts. 
You think it’s having the same effect on Joel, but you haven’t talked about it. You can only see what he’s showing on his face and you think it mirrors what’s on yours. You haven’t talked more about your 20 years apart, other than some small details here and there. Ellie hasn’t asked again. You see him looking at you sometimes like he wants to ask, wants to reach out, but he always hesitates. Slow. 
After a few weeks (almost a month since they’ve been back in Jackson) of getting more comfortable around each other, Tommy ramps up his campaign to get the two of you to join him at the bar one night. You’ve been there with Tommy a few times, of course, but you haven’t been one for lingering there since you’ve been in Jackson. You were on your own for so long that at first it was odd to be around so many people. You know Joel has been with Tommy a few times, but he didn’t stay long, either. Always wanting to be home for Ellie. 
Eventually Tommy pesters you into agreeing by getting Maria to hang with Ellie for the night – as much as they haven’t quite bonded yet, Ellie is still curious and a bit excited at the prospect of a baby, and the plan is for her to help decorate the nursery. You saw the look on her face when Joel referred to the baby as her cousin, and you think Ellie herself can’t look straight on at the emotion that came over her in that moment. She’s still getting used to the whole family thing. You and Joel are too, but you’re easing back into something you had once and lost, which is different than discovering something you’ve never had at all. 
The night of your outing you don’t let yourself dither by your closet. You allow yourself two options and once you decide you head downstairs to meet Joel and Tommy by the road. For a moment you marvel, again, at the novelty of doing something that used to be mundane – choosing your outfit for a night out. 
Tommy looks like he used to at Christmas, so excited to drag you both out of the house. Joel looks just as handsome as always — shoulders broad in his flannel shirt — but he’s also side-eyeing his brother like he might want to put him in a headlock if he doesn’t stop spilling good cheer everywhere. 
“Alright, Millers, let’s get this show on the road.” You tuck an arm through both of theirs, one on each side like you used to do when you went out dancing. For a moment the once-familiar feeling of being surrounded by your family like this takes your breath away. But the three of you easily fall into step as you head towards the only bar in town. 
“You should bring your CD out sometime, get everyone to dance.” Tommy looks hopeful as he makes his request, glancing between you and Joel as you walk. 
“Maybe. I don’t want to lose it, or break it.”
“I know, sunshine – we can be careful.”
You shrug, and ask what kind of music is going on tonight. Sometimes there’s live music, a few people in town who can play various instruments, but often it’s this old-as-dirt jukebox that sometimes needs coaxing to play more than a few chosen songs without going rogue and disregarding whatever you picked next. Sounds like tonight is a jukebox night. 
The three of you arrive at the bar, and as Tommy moves to enter ahead of you, Joel lets his hand slide down to twine his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand as the two of you step inside, reminding you of all the times he did that to reassure you Before, when you were still learning how to dance. It makes you smile. 
Tommy waves you over to a table in the corner and heads to the bar to get drinks. You slide in beside Joel, feeling a bit awkward as you turn to him while you wait for Tommy to come back. “He’s just as smug as he was that first time you and I went line dancing with him.”
Joel huffs a laugh, looking uncomfortable in public in a way you’d never seen him Before. He keeps checking on the people in the bar, eyes never staying in one spot for long as he sweeps them over the room. As he turns back to you, he replies, “Tommy loves to make me uncomfortable.”
You tilt your head at him, considering. “I get now, I’m not totally comfortable here either, but then? You always seemed so confident when we went out dancing. Helped me shake off my nerves.”
“That was because of you, darlin’.” He leans closer. “It was impossible for me to feel uncomfortable with you on my arm. All I could see was you, anyway.” You duck your head a little to hide your reaction from the room, and he gives you that half smile that raises goosebumps down your arms, like it always did. “Before I met you he used to drag me out and I probably stuck out like a sore thumb, anxious and frowning in a corner by the bar.”
You laugh at the image, just as Tommy returns with your drinks. “What are you two laughing about over here, hmm?”
Your eyes meet Joel’s again, and he’s giving you a warning glance against Tommy’s teasing. “We’re just reminiscing about going out dancing.”
Tommy grins widely. “I’m telling you, we can have a dance night here. Just need the right music for it. The jukebox does alright, though there’s a lot of slower songs. It doesn't have the widest selection.”
“Neither do I, with just the one CD.” 
Tommy shakes his head at your response. “Ah, but what a CD it is! I remember that mix. Sarah always had a way with a playlist.” You notice Joel shifting his weight at the mention of Sarah, but you decide not to draw attention to it.
“You just want me to embarrass myself with how little I remember.”
“Nope, not going to fall for a tall tale like that, sunshine. I heard from Ellie that you two still got it.” Tommy winks at you. You forgot what having a brother was like, with all the teasing, and you can’t help the swell of emotion in you as Tommy grins at you. You take a sip of your drink to cover it, and cough. 
“What the hell is this?”
“What, you don’t like it? It’s the strongest thing we got.”
“Did someone make this in their bathtub? I thought we had whiskey in this town.” You hold up your glass to the light, eyeing the light brown liquid distrustfully.
Tommy smirks at you. “Sure we do, sunshine, but tonight’s for having fun.” You roll your eyes at him. Joel is hiding his face in his hand, but you know he’s just trying to hide how much he’s laughing at your back and forth.
“You, Tommy Miller, are trouble. Just as much now as you ever were then.” You point at him and go for a stern expression, but you miss by a mile when you start to laugh. He laughs, too, and Joel just shakes his head at the both of you.
“Aw come on, I’m an upstanding member of the community these days, you know? No one’s dragged me out of the drunk tank in Jackson.”
“Jackson doesn’t have a drunk tank, Tommy.”
“Semantics, sunshine.”
You and Tommy keep the show going through your first drink with only a little bit of input from Joel, but you can see him smiling and starting to enjoy himself. With the second drink comes the return of Tommy’s campaign for dancing.
“Look, I’ll go pick out a song from the jukebox, and I swear it’ll be a good one. See, there’s already a few people dancing.”
You look over, and sure enough, there are a few pairs sort of swaying in place by the jukebox. You turn back to Tommy with an unimpressed look on your face, but he grins unrepentantly. “You’ll just have to show them how it’s done, won’t you?”
He heads over to the jukebox anyway, so you turn to Joel. “What do you think? You up for it?” He looks around the room before his eyes return to yours.
“I’ve never turned down a chance to dance with you, darlin’, and I’m not about to start, even here.”
His words send heat rushing towards your face and you bite your lip to hide your reaction. He sees it anyway. “Smooth moves, Miller, as always.”
He shrugs. “With you, it’s always just been a matter of letting myself say what I want to say or what I’m feeling and somehow it works. I was never this smooth before you, so you should blame yourself, you know, you bring it out in me.” You shove his shoulder, laughing a little. “Or maybe it’s only meant to work on you.” He smiles a little when you roll your eyes, trying to hide the effect his words have on you. You wonder if the drink has opened him up a bit tonight, after your weeks of progress so slow you’ve almost been standing still. The thought makes you hesitate. 
“Really, though, this is ok?”
He regards you for a moment, and his expression turns intent. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “it’s more than ok, darlin’. Let me show you.” You shiver all the way down your spine. You nod.
Tommy returns triumphant from the jukebox – he’s set the next two songs, but then can’t make any promises about what comes after. The first is playing now, a slow song that won’t really do, but it’s already almost over. Joel stands and extends his hand to you to guide you out of the booth and towards the small dance floor on the other side of the room near the jukebox.
Right as you get there the track changes, and you hear the familiar opening notes of “The Fireman.” You have to give it to Tommy – this is a good choice. Good for dancing, but not one that either you or Joel associate too many memories with. You take Joel’s right hand with your left as he places his left on your back. 
“You ready?”
“Get on with it, cowboy.” 
He smirks, and does just that. He doesn’t hesitate, just starts two-stepping across the small dance floor. It becomes clear pretty quickly that not only do the two of you remember the steps, you’re almost, if not just as good together now as you were then. He starts to get a little fancy with it and throws in some spins that lead you from one end of the dance floor to the other, followed by a pretzel. You find yourself laughing, exhilarated, and you see a similar expression on Joel’s face. He looks lighter, his shoulders a little taller. He brings you back to face him, doing some simple steps for a moment, and then gets a glint in his eye that you remember well. 
“Joel–” is all you manage before he spins you out, pulls you back in, and you fall into his arms as he dips you, tipping you over his knee and off your feet, just for a moment. It’s not the fanciest move you’ve ever done with him, but it leaves you breathless, faces close together as he holds you there for a moment, smirking. 
He sets you back upright, and slows it down a bit. You can’t drag your eyes away from his but neither of you say anything. It feels like you’ve created a bubble where it’s still 2002, and you and Joel are tearing across the dance floor in one of the clubs in Austin, like no time has passed. You even heard Tommy whistle over the music when Joel spun you off your feet. Just like old times.
As you let your body take over, you start to feel a tingling sensation that travels from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. You’re getting overwhelmed, and your body knows what to do, but your mind is checking out. It’s like you're experiencing two things at once – your memories, and what’s happening now. You realize that you and Joel are still moving, but both of your expressions have gone still and unreadable. When the music stops, so do you, and for a moment, neither of you move from your embrace. 
Suddenly you notice that your heart is racing. You’re sweating and you’re out of breath. When did that happen? Joel’s chest is heaving, too. Distantly you remember Tommy saying he had no idea what song would come next and you wonder if you should move aside.
Before you can move even a finger, you hear the jukebox switching tracks, and you see the next song slam into Joel like a freight train. The first notes are barely over and he’s already pulled away from you, turning sharply and heading for the door so fast you realize your hands are still hanging in the air where he left them as the door to the bar closes behind him. You let them drop and start to move, you’re not sure where to, when you feel Tommy come up next to you. 
“Hey, sunshine, you alright?” HIs hand comes up to support your elbow as he moves in front of you and blocks the room’s view. You want to respond, but all you can hear is Lonestar singing about being in love, and all you can see is the Millers’ backyard in 2002. You feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on you and you swear you can hear him singing “Amazed” to you as you sway in place. You remember choosing this song for your first dance at your wedding. You blink your eyes, dazed.
You fist your hand in Tommy’s shirt, shaking him a little. “I need… outside. I need to go outside. Tommy, take me outside.” He’s already leading you to the door before you finish speaking.
Outside, you turn sharply to the right, planning to prop yourself up against the outside wall of the bar and remember how to breathe, but you find that apparently Joel had the same thought. He’s got one hand on his chest and the other in a death grip on the frame of one of the windows. He’s gasping for breath. You and Tommy call out at the same time, but you don’t think he hears you. 
Tommy starts to move towards him, but you elbow him away and slide between Joel and the wall, putting your right hand to his chest and moving his right hand from his chest to yours. “Joel, look at me.” He sucks in a breath and does, clutching at your shirt where you put his hand. “Breathe with me, ok, baby?” He doesn’t respond, but the two of you lock eyes and you start to breathe together. You can see Tommy out of the corner of your eye – he’s turned his back to the two of you, ushering people on as they pass by. 
You breathe together for a little while and eventually, Joel’s breaths come more easily, as do yours. You feel his hand relax and yours does the same where you’re clutching his right arm, holding him in place. Both of you are shaking. He tries to speak, clears his throat, and tries again.
“I can’t…” You shake your head sharply, afraid to let him finish that sentence. He moves his hand from the window frame to your cheek in response and smooths his thumb across your cheekbone. It settles you.
“Let me try that again. I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t know if I can be that man anymore.” 
You’re confused. “Joel, what man?”
“I’m not…” he takes a deep breath. “I’m a mess. I know I said slow, and we are moving slow, but I can’t see my way to our destination. I’m not the man I was Before and I don’t know if I can be him again.” He looks at you, eyes wide and afraid, and suddenly you’re angry. The words that have been caught in your throat for a month finally spill out.
“Joel, I’m not who I was Before, either. We’ve talked about it a little, but there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. Who I became and what I did. You don’t have a monopoly on the pain of the last 20 years, alright?” He opens his mouth, but you shake your head and tighten your grip on his right arm. “No. We need to talk, and we need to learn about each other. But the truth of you is still there.” You flatten your hand over his heart. “I can see you in there, Joel Miller. I can see you in how you parent Ellie and how you talk to Tommy and how you look at me. I can see the way you take care of us and the way you’ve started to step up to help the people here.” You grip his shirt and shake him a little, doing everything you can to keep eye contact. “It’s scary, sure, I’m terrified. But I’m not giving this up before it even starts because it’s hard, or because sometimes the memories will overwhelm us. I already lived 20 hard years without you and I’m not doing it again. Not when that’s not what either of us really want.”
Joel looks like you cracked open his chest, actually gripping his heart in your hand instead of his flannel shirt, his expression wild. 
“All I’m asking, baby, is that you try. I can do one step forward, two steps back. As long as we keep going forward, it doesn’t matter how much we backtrack on our way.” He doesn’t respond right away – he looks over your face, and down to his hand on your chest and back up to meet your eyes. You can see tears glistening on his eyelashes.
“Alright, darlin’. You don’t have to convince me to go after what I want. I’ve just been afraid to let myself have it. I don’t… I don’t want you to discover I’ve become someone you can’t abide.”
You bring both hands up to cup his face. “Joel, I’m afraid of the same thing. But I want to figure it out together, not apart.” He nods, and turns his face into your right hand, taking a deep breath. You feel him kiss your palm, lightly, and you shiver. “We can still take the long way. I just want you to walk it with me.”
You feel the adrenalin of the last fifteen minutes start to leave you and suddenly you’re a bit unsteady on your feet. He holds you up, moving his hands to your waist. 
“Are you alright, darlin’? Let’s sit down.” You shake your head.
“I think I’d like to head home.”
“Let me take you home, then.”
You both turn to find Tommy has moved a bit further away, but he’s still guarding you both from the foot traffic at the door. He looks over when you look at him, and smiles a little ruefully. “I’m sorry about that, y’all.”
“Nothing to apologize for, Tommy.”
“I can get that song off the jukebox–” 
Joel interrupts him, firmly. “No, leave it. I might…” he sighs. “We might want to hear it. Later.” You smile at him a little as he tucks your right arm through his left.
You say goodnight to Tommy and start to head home. The streets of Jackson are dark and quiet. You’re both quiet, too, letting the intense moment you just had settle as you lean on each other for support. Soon enough your houses come into view, and Joel walks all the way to your front door before he stops and turns to you and says your name softly.
“I have to thank you. You always know what to say to get me out of my head.”
“You always did the same thing for me, you know? We were good together for a reason.”
He smiles, and nods. “I know it.”
You reach out to pull him in for a hug, and you both squeeze a bit tighter than you have so far, since your reunion. You feel his left hand cup the back of your neck as the right slides down your back and pulls you closer. You’ve been through an emotional wringer in the last half hour, but you still feel your body start to respond to this man. Like it always has. 
You turn your head so you can speak quietly into his left ear. “I enjoyed our dance, you know? Before all that.” His hand takes a firm grip on the back of your neck and you shiver. 
“Oh, I know you did. I could tell.” 
You laugh, and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “Oh yeah? Well you were enjoying it too, I could see it.”
“Never said I wasn’t. Never could take my eyes off you on the dance floor.” He pulls back a bit, and you meet his eyes. Gone, for the moment, is the worry from before – what you see in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. He smirks at you and runs his thumb up the side of your neck. 
“Can I kiss you goodnight, pretty girl?” As he says it he tilts your head up towards his. Joel has always called you darlin’, from the very first time you met, and you love it. But there were some pet names he only used at certain times and, well. Pretty girl has the same effect on you now as it did then. Between that and his hand on your neck you swear your feet float off the ground.
You’re breathless, but you manage an actual response. “I thought you’d never ask, cowboy.” He huffs a laugh at that, and then pulls you in close.
You’ve kissed Joel Miller countless times. He kissed you for the first time in his backyard in Austin in 2001 and after that you can’t even recall every time or place you kissed this man, there were so many. You wouldn’t say you got used to it, but you did come to expect it – Joel Miller, available and ready to be kissed by you, whenever you’d like. You knew him inside and out and you’d kissed him everywhere and every way you could imagine, back then.
But everything about this kiss is new. 
Joel softly presses his lips to yours, tilting your head with his grip on your neck, strong and confident. You circle your arms around his waist, moving even closer as you press into the kiss. He moves with you, pulling back a little, but returning almost immediately and kissing you a little deeper, a little firmer. You part your lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he slides his hand down from your waist to brazenly grab your ass, deepening the kiss just a bit, running his tongue along your bottom lip and groaning slightly as you bite softly as his lip in response. 
You’ve touched him where you’re touching him before and he’s touched you like this. But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels new, and heady. It feels like a first kiss and a millionth kiss all at once. He’s kissing you like he knows you, and he clearly remembers what you like, but it’s also like kissing a stranger. One who’s picked up new moves that just echo the ones you remember from Before. One whose body is familiar but also different, changed and aged in ways you haven’t had a chance to explore just yet.  
Joel shifts his weight in a way that turns you slightly, allowing him to slide his hand down further and grip the back of your thigh before pressing you against your own front door. He uses his grip to pull your leg up, stepping closer and pinning you in place with his hips. 
He tilts your chin up again with the hand on your neck and uses his thumb to open your mouth wide. You’re pressed tight between him and the door, sinking into your growing arousal, sinking into him. He looks down at you, mouth held open and waiting for him. You feel hot and dazed, watching as he runs his tongue across his own bottom lip slowly. He meets your eyes, gaze heavy, before lowering his head and devouring your mouth. You sneak your hands inside his shirt to run your nails up his back as your tongues tangle. Joel moans, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and thrusts his hips into yours. Your breath catches as you feel his arousal meet your own. You feel desire pooling in your lower abdomen and your legs start to shake.
You might have gone on like that all night – you might have let him fuck you against the door, unashamed, outside where anyone can see you – but a door a few houses down suddenly slams shut, startling you both. 
Joel almost jumps away from you at the sudden interruption. Not far, he’s still got his hands on your hip and your neck. Your hands rest on his belt. He’s breathing hard and you suddenly realize you are, too. You shake your head, blinking, and start to claw your way back to awareness – your connection was so familiar, so easy, so much like Before. You’d sunk into those depths like slipping into a dream.
You blink at each other before you both let go at the same moment, standing up straight and stepping away. He lets his eyes dance over you, taking in your mussed clothes and swollen lips, before closing his own and pressing his palms to his eyes. He takes a deep breath. You can see the familiar outline of his cock in his jeans, and you force yourself to look away.
“I need to… I’m sorry, darlin’, but we shouldn’t. Not yet.” You nod. You try to convince yourself it’s the smart thing to do, even as you feel the pull of him like a magnet. Even if all you want in this moment is to pull him inside and make him finish what he started, just on the inside of the door this time. For some privacy.
“We still need to talk,” you manage. Your voice sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, but Joel nods in response. “But we agreed, right? This, us, together – that’s the destination. Even if we take it slow.”
“Slow,” he repeats, eyes lingering on your lips. He blinks, and meets your eyes. “Slow, yes.”
“We should walk away before we jump each other where the whole town can see.” You smile as you say it. It doesn’t sit right on your face. You take a deep breath and move to open your door without taking your eyes off Joel.
He smiles back, and nods. His attempt looks just as uncomfortable as yours. “Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow? Or soon?” 
“Of course. Tomorrow.” Your feet feel rooted in place until he finally manages a step off of your porch. Your face feels like a mask as you try to present something pleasant, agreeable, fine with watching your heart walk away from you. The connection you just reawakened pulls taut between you and tugs at something deep in your chest. You keep your eyes on each other, and once he reaches his own porch you finally open your door. You take one last look, chest tight, before entering your houses at the same time. 
Inside, you close your door and immediately slide down against it to sit on the floor, head in your hands.
...
Austin, Spring 2001
You and Joel talked a few times between Sunday and Friday – standing in your front yard, once, and over the phone twice, finalizing your plans and flirting so much you found yourself not paying attention and getting wound up in the cord of the old phone that came with the house. He told you not to waste your limited texts on him, the dinosaur, but you texted him a couple of times anyway. Sarah must have taught him a few things because he actually sent you a winky face back once. It made you laugh and clutch your phone to your chest like some kind of swooning maiden. You told Emily, your friend at work, and she laughed at you so hard she snorted soda up her nose at lunch. Served her right. 
Friday arrived just in time to save you from working yourself up too much into a state of anticipation and nerves. You made yourself stick with the outfit you had picked out on Wednesday night when you talked to Joel on the phone and tried to figure out what was appropriate to wear dancing. He told you you’d be beautiful no matter what, but you wanted to look good on his arm for your first – and long awaited – date. You ran the outfit by Emily, too, and she gave it her official born-and-bred-in-Texas stamp of approval. (She also told you it was a good idea to wear jeans, because everyone else would likely do the same.) It wasn’t going to get much better than that.
Joel was going to pick you up at 7:30 after he dropped Sarah off for her sleepover. At 7:15 you were standing in your entryway with nothing left to do, feeling a little foolish. You looked around for something to occupy you and had just decided you’d put some dishes in the dishwasher, maybe, when there was a knock at the door. You glanced at the clock –7:17 – and raised one eyebrow while opening the door to find Joel on the other side. He was wearing cowboy boots, black jeans that were so tight in the hips it should have been illegal, and a button up green shirt that made your mouth water at how it showed off every line of his torso.
“A bit early, aren’t we?” you teased, leaning your shoulder against your door frame and crossing your arms.
“Well hello there, beautiful. I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. And you answered that door pretty quick, you know, to be teasing me like that. Were you waiting for me?” He grinned at you and winked. What a flirt.
“Maybe I was. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, cowboy.” 
Joel offered his hand to you and you took it, stepping outside to join him before locking your front door. “Ready to go?”
“Lead the way.”
He handed you into his truck and set off for the taco place he’d been on you to try for months. 
(He’d learned earlier in the week while you were talking in your front yard that you still hadn’t gone, and the incredulous way he said your name had made you laugh.
“How? Darlin’, we told you about it months ago!”
“I’m busy, ok! And maybe I was waiting for an invitation.” You smiled and raised one eyebrow at him. 
He grinned, but shook his head. 
“Well, this can’t stand, darlin’. Seems like I’ll just have to take over from here, hmm? Make sure my girl is getting the best Austin has to offer.” He definitely caught your reaction to my girl, stepping closer and cupping your face with his right hand. You smiled at him, a little dazzled. 
“Pretty sure of yourself, huh, cowboy?” You smoothed your hands around his waist and linked your fingers at the small of his back. 
“Nah. Pretty damn sure of how much you deserve to be taken care of, more like.” You felt like you were going to swoon again, and really, twice in one week? This man.)
So you headed towards the taco place in the truck. Joel asked you about your week at work, how your students were doing, and he smiled a little when you told him that Emily approved your outfit for a night of dancing. 
“You tell her thank you from me, darlin’, I sure do approve, too.” He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. You laughed and rolled your eyes a little, moving to hold his hand.
The taco place turned out to be pretty crowded, but there were plenty of tables outside and soon you were settled with tacos and drinks. Your table was cozy, a two-person set-up right towards the end of their outdoor deck, which was strung with fairy lights. 
“Well? What do you think?”
“It’s lovely, Joel.” You felt his boot slide forward and settle against your foot. You smiled at him, resting your chin in your hand. “I’m glad you asked me out.”
Joel reached over and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, fingers cupping your jaw. “You got no idea how glad I am that you said yes, darlin’.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he left his thumb there, right in the middle of your bottom lip. He pressed down gently and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue forward to meet it. You watched as he inhaled sharply, staring at your mouth. You opened a little wider.
Joel shook himself and cleared his throat, pulling his hand away. “We should eat, baby. We got some dancing to do later.” He picks up a taco.
You smiled, enjoying the effect you clearly had on him, as strong as the effect he had on you. “Right. Dancing.” He shot you a look, picking up what you were implying.
“Eat your tacos, troublemaker.”
“Yes sir!” He coughed at your response, and you laughed, finally relenting. You picked up your own taco and took a bite.
You moaned.
“Joel! This is amazing!” You looked up from your food to find him watching you, dark eyes intent. “What?”
He just grinned, slow and smooth. “Nothing, darlin’.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t press.
Over dinner you talked more about your week, about the family party the Millers had coming up, about your worries for your students as you hit the midpoint in the semester. Joel asked you about your coworkers and some of your students by name, and your heart warmed just knowing he remembered them from the stories you’d told him. That he listened and cared.
He told you about the projects he and Tommy were working on now, and some of his frustrations with his crew and the clients. You realized, as you listened, that Joel had never really held back from sharing himself like this, not with you. You knew all of his crew by name and reputation, at this point. You could ask after their partners and you knew their roles on the team. He’d been opening himself up to you the whole time, just like you had with him. You’d barely noticed at first because you hadn’t had anything to compare it to, no idea he could be so careful and distant with people he didn’t know. Knowing him the way you did now, well. You smiled, still listening.
The fairy lights were setting everything off in a warm glow, but you felt like that glow was inside of you, too. Like the connection between the two of you was lighting you up from the inside. Your fingertips were tingling.
You wrapped your ankles around one of his under the table and squeezed. He winked at you in response. 
Around 9 you got back in Joel’s truck to head to the club he and Tommy had told you about. Apparently they sometimes played Latin music, but tonight was going to be all country, which meant two-stepping and line dancing. You felt your nerves, which had faded during dinner, start to return.
“Joel, you sure I know enough to go dancing? We barely got started last week.”
He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh again. “You’re ready, darlin’. Just follow my lead – I won’t throw anything too fancy at you.” 
You sent him a look. “Something tells me I shouldn’t believe you.”
He grinned, tapping his fingers against your thigh, sending tingles down your spine. “I did say nothing too fancy.” 
You soon arrived and Joel opened the car door for you in front of a large wooden building with neon figures in cowboy hats dancing across the facade. He took your hand again, lacing your fingers together, and started walking towards the entrance where there was a small line. It moved quickly and way too soon you were moving inside. Joel squeezed your hand as you entered the club.
The first thing that hit you was the sound – “Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up)” was blasting through the dark space. You looked around, noticing the tiered side areas with tables and couches surrounding a huge dance floor sunk into the middle of the club. It was absolutely teeming with people line dancing on one side and two-stepping on the other. You looked at Joel and grinned. “Where to first, cowboy?” He smiled back and tugged you towards the dance floor. As you approached you noticed the bar nearby on the first level.
He leaned close so you could hear him, his lips brushing your ear. “Let’s get a drink and then we can watch for a minute, let you get comfortable.” You nodded, smiling at how well he anticipated what would put you at ease.
He got you drinks and somehow snagged a high bar table close to the dance floor. You stepped up to it and he stepped up close to you, to your side and behind you, curving his left arm around your waist. He put his mouth next to your ear again. “What do you think, darlin’?”
You leaned back a little, letting your back touch his chest as you turned towards him to reply. “They’re dancing pretty fast out there, Joel. I don’t think I can keep up.” He raised his right hand to touch your chin lightly, turning your head to the left a bit.
“Look over there, do you see the split?” As soon as he pointed it out you saw it. Yes, there were some dancers going so fast it made your head spin, but there was an area off to the left where pairs were dancing slower, and some looked like they were still learning, like you. “Everyone here is real polite, real aware of each other. No one’ll make you go fast before you’re ready.”
It reassured you, and you leaned back a little more into his chest. He tightened his arm around your waist. “Thanks, cowboy. That does make me feel better.” He grinned at you and winked again.
As you finished your drinks he pointed out people doing the steps he’d taught you, showing you the different ways they could fit together with other things you hadn’t learned yet. You realized the song was changing, and “My Maria” started up. It was a bit slower than the songs had been so far, which seemed like a sign.
You turned to look at Joel. “Should we give it a go?”
He looked surprised, and then pleased that you suggested it. “Let’s get out there, darlin’.” Before he moved away he leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing your breath and then grabbing your hand to lead you to the dance floor. As you reached it, he turned backwards, leading you with both hands into an open spot. He moved you into the stance he’d taught you on Sunday.
“Just follow me, baby. I’ll guide you right.” You nodded and took a deep breath, and then he started moving.
It amazed you how quick you shook off your nerves in Joel’s arms. He was right, you did have a good handle on the basic steps, and he smoothly led you around your little area of the dance floor, deftly steering you around other dancers. He even threw in a spin that left you a little dizzy. “Joel!” 
“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all. “Just wanted to give it a try.”
You smiled back, charmed by his easy confidence on the dance floor. “Just warn me next time.”
A couple songs on the slower side followed “My Maria.” After three, you felt like you were letting the dance happen more naturally instead of staring at your own feet so much. Joel was smiling at you softly, and soon he sent you into another spin and caught you close. You stumbled a little and smiled at him. You realized neither of you were moving. You’d frozen in the middle of the dance floor, when his gaze darted down to your lips. 
You'd moved a little closer, breathless, when the crowd suddenly cheered, startling you into stepping back and looking around. You looked at Joel, who was grinning. 
“What’s going on?” you asked, but then you heard it. Most of the men were leaving the dance floor – the women in the room took over as “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” started up. You laughed, but then stopped when you realized Joel was moving away, too.
“Wait, I don’t know what to do!” You were about to get corralled into one of the lines of dancers that was forming around you.
“Just follow along!” he called, grinning. You looked around and saw a woman you didn’t know beckon you closer.
“I’ll show you! Come on!” She broke it down for you slowly, and soon you were moving with the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t that difficult, you realized, just showy. You noticed some were throwing in spins and kicks, but you focused on the basic steps. Once you had a handle on it you looked up, looking for Joel.
When you found him, you almost froze in place. He was looking right at you, and by the look on his face, you knew he hadn’t looked away from you once. He was watching you with dark eyes, intent. It sent a shiver down your spine and you wanted to run to him, or for him to come back and dance with you again. He had a hand on his chin and he slowly rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as you met his eyes. You stumbled a little over the next step and he smirked, not meanly, more knowingly. You smiled back.
For the rest of the song you felt his eyes on you, and you felt like you were dancing only for him. It made you a little bolder – you swayed your hips more and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was angled low. It spurred you on.
By the end of the song you were breathless, and you’d worked yourself up so much you needed a break before you hauled off and dragged him into the bathroom. When you met his eye you knew he was feeling the same way.
The crowd surged a bit as you approached, and you tipped forward into his arms at the edge of the dance floor. “How did I do?” you asked, grinning. He studied you, looking slowly down your body and back up. Your face heated in response.
He leaned forward, arms around your waist, lips brushing your ear again, and said, lowly, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You tore up that dance floor, baby. Let me take you for another spin.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head against his, overwhelmed.
“Be My Baby Tonight” was playing then, and it was fast and a little intimidating. You turned your head towards him. “Get me a water, first, and then you can spin me all around the dance floor, cowboy.”
He ducked his head into your neck, leaving a kiss behind your ear, and then nodded. He turned and headed straight to the bar as you leaned against the high table next to you for support. You steadied yourself, taking several deep breaths. Dancing now. More of… that later. The thought made you chuckle, but you closed your eyes briefly against the heady anticipation it sparked in you at the same time. 
Joel reappeared back in front of you quickly, drinking his own water and watching you intently as you finished yours. “Daddy’s Money” faded into “Shut Up and Kiss Me” as he grabbed your hand to lead you back onto the dance floor without saying a word. Your heart was racing as you followed, eyes locked on his.
The practice and the line dancing had flipped a switch in you, and you found yourself adding little things that made the dance your own. Swinging your hips a bit slower, throwing in an extra twist, spinning faster. Joel met you step for step and encouraged you with every addition. The rest of the club fell away as the two of you moved in sync. You barely noticed when he threw in a new move – a backwards spin of some kind. He smoothly guided you in and out of it, grinning smugly when it worked. 
You danced straight through two more songs (“Fast as You” and “God Blessed Texas”, which the crowd loved). When “What About Now” started you found yourselves pressed even closer together, after the crowd that had formed for “God Blessed Texas”. You kept moving, but Joel caught your eyes right as the chorus started and your breath caught. He pulled you close and, to your surprise, sang softly into your ear, “How ‘bout tonight? Baby for once let’s don’t think twice.” You knew he could play guitar, and he’d mentioned before that he’d wanted to be a singer when he was a kid, but he’d never sung for you. You felt his voice, soft like velvet, sink deep into you and you squeezed your thighs together.
You pulled away and caught his eye, coming to a stop on the dance floor. He looked uncertain for a moment before he saw the look on your face. 
“Let’s get out of here, cowboy.”
He smiled wide and immediately turned and led you through the crowd towards the door. It took longer than you wanted but eventually you emerged into the cool night air outside of the club.
At his truck he stopped and slipped his arm around your waist. He whispered in your ear, “where to, baby?”
“Take me home, Joel.”
“Just home?”
You smirked at him. “Why don’t you get me there and find out?” 
He laughed, opening the door for you and jogging around to throw himself into the driver seat. As soon as he had the truck in drive his right hand was back on your thigh. Higher this time, and with his thumb rubbing a small circle into the outside while his fingers gripped the inside firmly. You sighed and sank a little lower in your seat. He glanced at you, and stood a little harder on the gas pedal.
Joel must have set a record between the club and your house, but soon enough you were pulling up in the driveway and he was opening the car door for you once again. You walked to your front door with him hovering right behind you, hands lightly brushing over your hips as he moved in step with you. 
You unlocked the door, but before you could open it he grabbed your hips and spun you around. You found yourself sandwiched between him and the door, left hand firm on your hip, right hand against the door to the side of your head. The echo of your dance positions made your heart race. 
He leaned in close, brushing his lips across your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “you got plans tonight, pretty girl?” You heard yourself gasp, lightly, and reached out to loop your fingers through his belt buckles. 
“Met some cowboy at the club. He followed me home, trying to get in my pants.”
Joel laughed, and moved a little closer. His left hand moved from your hip to your neck, thumb in front along your collarbone. “Well, are you going to let him?”
You hummed and pretended to think about it. “I dunno. You think he’s any good?”
Joel met your eyes, sliding his left hand to the back of your neck and squeezing. You inhaled sharply and you knew he could see the effect he had, written all over your face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against yours as he replied, “well, baby, you can be the judge of that, alright? After I make you come on my hand,” he kissed you, “and my mouth,” he kissed you again, “and my cock,” he kissed you one last time. 
Your head was spinning at his words and you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. You thrust your hips against his right thigh, firm between your legs. He squeezed his hand around the back of your neck again and you gasped as he moved back a little. 
“Well then, cowboy. Take me to bed.”
He reached behind you and opened the door, pulling you in by the waist as he deftly maneuvered you around it and into your dark hallway. He pulled the door closed and locked it with one hand behind him, never even moving away from you, before backing you into the wall to your living room.
“I’ll take you to bed, pretty girl, but I think I’ll take you right here first.”
Your back hit the wall but he didn’t stop, moving forward until his front pressed all along yours. He caught your lips with his, moving his hand back to its new spot around the back of your neck in a strong grip. With his other hand he undid your jeans, then used both hands to start to pull them down. You reached down to help, but stopped when you realized Joel’s eyes had caught on your underwear. Particularly the lace.
“This for me, darlin’?” As he asked he slipped his fingers into the slide of your underwear before moving his hands around to the back and reaching inside to grab your ass cheeks, one in each hand. You thrust your hips towards his, brushing lightly against his jeans.
“You see any other cowboys here?” 
He grinned. “I think I like the idea of you picking these out, thinking about what I might like.”
“Wait until you see what else I’ve got up there.” 
“Oh, I plan to.” He stepped back in to press you against the wall, moving his left hand back to your neck and his right hand around to the front to slip inside your underwear. “Mouth or fingers first, baby? What do you think?” 
You let your head fall back and rest against the wall, breathless at his question.
“Come on, baby. Good girls ask for what they want.” As soon as the words left his mouth you whined, surprising yourself, a tiny noise in the back of your throat, barely there at all. But he heard it. “Oh, do you want to be my good girl?” The effect his words had on you was obvious – chest heaving, eyes closed, heat rushing to your face. “That’s good, baby, that’s real good. Now tell me what you want.”
You took a few deep breaths, trying to focus as his fingers moved lower in your underwear. “Your mouth.” You opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, eyes dark. 
“That’s my good girl.” He leaned forward, voice low in your ear. “Now, let me hear you moan for me like you did back in the restaurant, got it? I want to hear it, baby. Don’t hold back.” And without another word, he sank to his knees in front of you. You steadied yourself on the wall behind you, unable to tear your eyes away from him as he pulled off your shoes, and then your jeans, and then your underwear. You stepped out of them as he ran his hands back up your legs to your hips. He placed a light kiss on each of your hips, sending sparks straight to your pussy. Your legs started to shake. His right hand moved back down to reach behind your thigh and he lifted it over his shoulder. Any self consciousness you might have felt at opening yourself to him like that was immediately quashed by the hungry look on his face.
“Oh, pretty girl. I can’t believe I waited this long to get a look at this pretty pussy.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss just above your clit. You took a breath that sounded like a sob. “I’m going to treat you right.” He was looking straight at your pussy as he said it.
He leaned in and started with a slow lick, from your hole all the way up to your clit. You felt it like a tremor that ran from your toes to the base of your spine, almost taking you out at the knees. 
“Fuck.” Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair, but not pushing. He glanced up to meet your eyes before doing it again, this time maintaining eye contact. You felt like you were about to hyperventilate.
“Breathe, baby. Let me make you feel good.”
You whined again, softly, and he grinned. As he moved back to press his lips lightly to your clit, he brought up his right hand to tease his fingers at your entrance. He pressed his tongue down on your clit slowly, softly, before tracing the tip of it towards your hole. He pressed there, hinting at pushing his tongue past your entrance. You tightened your hands in his hair and he smiled, kissing you, right there, and then slowly pushed his tongue inside while his fingers moved up to brush against your clit. 
You felt like you were floating, like last week when you danced, and again tonight when you were so in sync on the dance floor. It was like he could read you and knew what you wanted before you knew you wanted it. He thrust his tongue inside, curling it a way that made you gasp, pushing your hips towards his face involuntarily. You moaned, low. He caught you with his left hand on your hip and pushed you back into the wall. 
“Good girl. Let me hear it.” He teased you again with the tip of his tongue. "You taste so good, baby. I could stay right here for hours.” You shuddered and he moved his fingers down to circle your entrance again. He pushed one slowly inside you. At the same time, he placed an open mouth kiss directly on your clit, lightly tonguing it as he found the spot inside of you that made you shiver. 
He kept it up as you moaned again, mercilessly thrusting his finger inside while lavishing your clit with attention from his lips and tongue. 
You felt your orgasm start to build slowly, from the base of your spine. It radiated up your back and tingled over your scalp, overwhelming you entirely as you pushed down with your hands in his hair and thrust into his mouth. His hand and shoulder held you up as your knees shook. “Joel, I–”
“I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing my finger. That’s it, pretty girl, let me see you come.” The wash of fire over you made you arch your back, and you called out his name as it took you. He worked you through it until you gently pushed his mouth away. 
You heaved a breath and looked down at him, finding him just as wrecked as you, his entire face wet from being buried in your pussy. You watched as he used your hip to pull himself up, standing over you as he pulled his middle finger from inside you and slipped it into his mouth. His eyes slipped shut and he made a noise like he couldn’t get enough. Your mouth went dry. 
Joel opened his eyes and reached for you, pulling you into his chest. “That’s one, baby. Ready for two?” You shuddered but fell forward, into his arms. 
“I think I need to lie down first.” 
He grinned, and wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you close to lean on him and walking backwards while holding you up. “Let me take care of that for you.” 
“Joel, I can walk!” You laughed as you said it. 
“Nonsense, darlin’. Happy to have you in my arms, now that it’s my job to make your legs shake.” He winked at you and tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you into a kiss at the bottom of the stairs. You couldn’t help but notice how good his arms looked, supporting you like that. You tucked your head into one side of his neck and kissed lightly behind his ear and along his hairline. He tilted his head to give you better access, humming. Then he lightly swatted your ass cheek.
“Let’s get upstairs, pretty girl.” He encouraged you to go up in front of him, and you grinned over your shoulder at him, knowing exactly why. He stared directly at your naked ass, unrepentant. 
Once you reached your bedroom you started to pull your shirt off, but he suddenly grabbed you by the hips and turned you towards him. He reached around behind you to grab your ass in both hands, pulling you into a searing kiss. Before you knew it he was walking you towards the bed, letting you fall onto it backwards. You bounced slightly and your legs splayed open as he stripped off his shirt, grinning at the sight of you. 
“Look at you, pretty girl. Why don’t you take off that top for me.” You did, and watched him remove his boots and jeans, too. 
Soon he was crawling on the bed, leaning over you on his left elbow while he slid his right hand up your leg, over your torso and finally to your cheek, where he pressed gently to turn you towards him and into a kiss. 
“I dreamed about you like this, you know. For a while now.” As he said it he moved his hand back down, teasing your nipple lightly. “You, spread out on a bed, just for me.” 
You kissed his cheek as he turned to look down your body, which squirmed a little under his gaze. “I did too, Joel.”
“What did you dream about, baby?”
You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Everything.”
He hummed, and moved his lips to your ear. He murmured your name. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me, hmm? Now, what did you dream about?” As he said it he tweaked your nipple slightly, making you gasp. 
“Your mouth,” you breathed it so quietly he nudged you with his nose to spur you on. You cleared your throat. “Your mouth, and your fingers. Can’t keep my eyes off your shoulders, never could, even that first day. Couldn’t stop imagining them moving over me as you fucked me.” Your voice was steady, but Joel took the opportunity to drop kisses down your neck, moving towards your chest. You started talking faster. “Your arms, holding me up as you fucked me against a wall. Your lips… everywhere. Your thick fingers, sneaking inside my underwear. Being full of you. Being good for you. Using my mouth on you, sucking you off. Riding you in the backyard. Sneaking into the bathroom together on a night out. Sneaking over in the middle of the night to wake you up by sucking your cock. Waking up to your mouth…” You sucked in a breath as he lightly took your left nipple between his teeth. Your mind blanked. You couldn’t remember anything more. “Everything, baby.”
He twisted his tongue around your nipple before sucking a kiss into the side of your breast. You sank your fingers into his hair as you arched towards him. 
“That’s my good girl, yeah? Where should we start?”
“What?”
He looked up at you. “Pick one, baby. Let’s cross something off your list.”
You smiled at him, a little shy. “What about your list?”
“Well, we have plenty of time. And don’t you worry about that.” He crawled over you, legs on either side of your hips, bulge obvious in his underwear. “You’re my list, baby. Everything you said, and everything else we can do, anywhere we can do it.”
You thought about calling him on the lack of specifics, like he did to you, but you knew you’d rather let him follow through on that promise.
“I want your fingers, Joel. Mouth, fingers, then cock, right?” You looked him straight in the eye as you said it. “How many do you think I can take?” He blinked, and then grinned wickedly.
“A good girl like you? I think you’ll take as many as I want to give you, don’t you?” Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your mouth with his. This time he skipped past any build up and tangled your tongues together as he pressed down on top of you. Your legs were still trapped between his as he ground his cock, still hidden inside his briefs, against your hip. You ran your nails up his back and into his hair.
He shifted his weight to the side, freeing your left leg, which he grabbed at your thigh to push it to the side, opening your pussy to him again. He traced his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, still kissing you deeply. Once he reached your pussy he traced through the remnants of your first orgasm.
He pulled back slightly, still close enough that his lips touched yours. “Is this pretty pussy always this wet?” You moaned as he slid one finger between your folds, teasing at your entrance. 
“It is for you.”
“Even when you touch yourself, thinking about me?” Your face heated a little, and you turned your head. “Don’t be shy, pretty girl. Nothing gets me going faster than thinking about you – how you look when you’re concentrating, when you’re dancing in your kitchen, when you’re relaxing on the couch in those little shorts you wear around the house.” As he spoke he kissed along your jaw and pressed gently with his finger at your entrance. Almost inside. “I think about your hair on my pillow, your thighs around my head, your mouth on my cock, your pussy on my face, your legs around my waist in my shower, and I can barely keep myself from coming in my pants like a teenager.” He slid his finger inside you, and you moaned again, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s it, baby. Now tell me. Do you get this wet when you touch yourself and think of me?” His voice was stern and his finger curled inside you, making you push your hips towards his hand. 
“Yes,” you breathed, turning your lips to his. “I’m always wet for you, Joel.” He took your mouth again, thrusting his tongue as he thrust his finger inside you. 
“Good girl.” His voice rumbled, low, deeper than you’d ever heard it. He slipped another finger inside you. “That’s two fingers, baby.” He thrust his fingers in and out of you as he devoured your mouth. He slid his left forearm along the bed until his hand was behind your head and he gripped the back of your neck again. “Let’s try a third, hmm?”
You curved your hips into his hand as he added a third finger, stretching you wide and filling you up. You could feel a buzzing in your ears and a tingle at the back of your neck where he held you in his strong grip. 
“That’s so good, baby. Taking my fingers so well. How does it feel?” He squeezed the back of your neck with his left hand as he curled his fingers upwards inside of you. You heard yourself whine before you realized you were doing it.
“Tell me, pretty girl. How does it feel?”
You sucked in a breath, and replied, “it’s so good, Joel.” You clenched around his fingers. “I – I need–”
He sucked a kiss into your neck, and then under your ear. “Tell me.”
“My clit—” you trailed off again as he moved his thumb right where you wanted it. You closed your eyes. He started drawing circles with his thumb as he thrust his fingers into you. You clenched your fists in his hair and in the sheets. You could feel it coming.
“Joel, I’m close,” you arched your back into him as he held your neck down in his hand. 
“I can see that, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Let go, and let me see you come. I want to see it up close this time, see your pretty face.”
As soon as he told you to, you did. Blood rushed in your ears as you arched your chest off the bed, thrusting your hips toward his hand. The orgasm took you hard – you saw stars, felt it radiating out from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. You might have called his name, but you couldn’t be sure. When you came down you heard yourself breathing hard and realized Joel was murmuring your name in your ear. “That was beautiful, darlin’, I’ve never seen anything so pretty. I knew you’d come so nice, you had to, so fucking gorgeous. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, and all for me. You were such a good girl for me, honey.”
You caught your breath, and then caught his face between your hands, pulling him into a searing kiss. He smiled at you after. You slid your right hand down, trailing over his chest and into his underwear. You gripped his cock in your hand. “I believe you promised another on this cock, cowboy.” It was his turn to moan and thrust his hips forward as you ran your thumb across the tip.
“You know I’m good for it.” You helped when he reached to push his underwear down, then kicked it somewhere on the floor. You took his cock in your hand again, marveling a little at the girth. 
“I knew you were big, Joel, but damn.” He straightened his shoulders a little, looking smug. He caught your eye and winked. 
“You knew it, huh?”
“You weren’t the only one looking, baby. I’ve seen you in your swim trunks. And that day your pants slipped down a little, on the ladder? Well, you should have worn a belt, is all I’m saying.” He laughed.
He raised his right hand to trail his fingertips down your face and neck, and traced the shape of your right breast lightly. “Maybe I wanted you to look.” You tightened your grip on his cock and he pinched your nipple in response before moving his hand lower and cupping your pussy. 
He pressed his forehead to yours. “Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” he shifted his hand to your thigh, pushing slowly to make you bend your knee up to your chest. You nodded. “Hmm, I want to hear you say it.”
“Fuck me, Joel. I’m not waiting any longer.” He lifted his head and grinned at you. You grinned back. He reached over and grabbed a condom from your nightstand and made quick work of opening it and slipping it on. 
“Well I know better than to keep a pretty girl like you waiting.” He shifted his weight, hovering over you. You moved your hands to his hips, but he picked up your right hand with his left and laced his fingers through yours before pinning your hand to the bed above your head. You shifted into it, loving the feeling of being held in place. You traced his shoulders with your eyes, watching as his muscles moved to hold you there. He tucked your left leg around his waist, your right rising immediately to meet it. 
Then he reached down to take his cock in hand and tease along your pussy from your clit down to your hole. 
“You’re so wet, baby. Ready for me, hmm?”
You curved your hips towards him, catching the tip of his cock between your folds. “Always, Joel.”
He thrust his hips forward in response, notching the tip right at your entrance. “Christ, darlin’, this is already so fucking good.” He was watching, looking at his cock just kissing your pussy. You felt heat rushing through you, watching him look.
“Now, cowboy. Give it to me.” He met your eyes again and did exactly as you said, pushing inside, studying your face. Your mouth fell open as you felt first the head and then the rest, stretching you wider than his fingers. You watched him lick across his bottom lip as he filled you up. He was staring at your open mouth. You were panting, tongue lax, surrendering to the stretch. You watched as he let spit gather on his tongue and then slip out, falling directly from the tip of his tongue into your open mouth. You caught it on your tongue and held it there. Your eyes snapped back to meet each other’s gaze as you moaned, loud. He thrust his hips forward, filling you the rest of the way in one swift motion.
He leaned down and licked inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours as he pulled back and slammed into you again, pushing you up the bed. For a moment you were both in a frenzy, your hips crashing together as you opened your mouths wide, tongues tangling, breaths coming hot and fast.
You twisted your hips, squeezing your legs around him, and he pulled his mouth away from yours. “You are so fucking hot, you know that? I ain’t never seen anything like you, never felt anything like this.” He was breathing heavily as he sped up his thrusts, reaching around your left hip and squeezing your ass cheek in his right hand. Pulling your pussy closer with his grip. “You’re taking me so well, such a fucking good girl for me.” You gasped, tossing your head back. “Feels like this pussy was fucking made for me. Christ.”
You could barely breathe, but you managed, “It was, Joel. All yours. No– nobody else.”
“Fucking right, all mine.” He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back in. He tilted his head down and nipped at your neck where it met your shoulder. “All for me.”
“Yes, baby. Give it to me.”
He growled, speeding up his thrusts. He slipped his right hand from your ass back around your hip, sliding his fingers down to your pussy again. He tapped your clit once, sharply, and you let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. It sent a piercing arousal through you that made you tighten your legs around his waist. He grinned, and did it again, before starting to work at your clit in time with the strokes of his hips. 
He licked from your collarbone to your ear, whispering, “You ready to give me that third one, baby? I want you to come on my cock.” You whimpered and nodded. “Let me have it then.” He was filling you so perfectly, you could feel your orgasm building again. “Let me see it again. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Show it to me, baby. Please.” He bit down on the hinge of your jaw and you felt it hit you again. You squeezed his cock, tight, clenching your pussy as you came. This time it didn’t stop, the movement of his hips and fingers just kept it going, longer than you’d ever felt before. You fell into it. “Good girl,” he grunted as you felt his hips speed up, losing his steady pace. You felt like your orgasm shifted into a new gear as you clutched at his hair and cried out. He thrust hard into you one last time and your eyes flew open, yanking his face from your neck to watch his face as he came. 
You locked eyes as you both tumbled over and came down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You were breathing hard, breath mixing together as you stared at each other. 
“Fuck,” you whispered, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of your favorite half smile. “Holy shit, Joel.”
He brushed his nose slowly along yours and moved his hips forward one more time. You gasped. “I knew it’d be this good,” he murmured. “Had to be. Fucking made for me, I knew it.” You smiled softly and pressed your lips to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He caught your lips in a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl, all for me.” Despite how you’d spent the last hour with this man, you felt your face heat a little. He kissed your cheek. 
You both took a deep breath and he pulled out slowly, catching the condom with his right hand. He moved away to dispose of it and you stretched languidly, twisting your hips. You’d never felt so content, so satisfied. 
He came back quickly, cloth in hand to clean you both up before slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close, tucking your head onto his chest and gripping your waist firmly with his arm down your back. With the other hand he traced designs on the arm you had flung across his chest.
“I’m mighty glad I asked you out tonight, darlin’.”
You smiled into his chest. “I’m mighty glad I said yes, cowboy.” He laughed at your imitation of his accent.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“You sure do.” He reached down and tapped your ass lightly in retaliation. 
“Don’t you want to be nice to me, after I was so nice to you?” 
You lifted your head to look at him, and he was grinning. You shifted your weight so your left hip rested on top of his, bringing your left hand to support your chin on his chest as you looked at him. “You and I both know you like it when I tease you.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile. 
“Well, you got me. But it just means you fit right in.” You were a little dazzled at the idea of fitting in so well with his family – you knew he meant Sarah and Tommy.
For a moment you just looked at each other. His eyes swept over you, catching on where his now soft cock rested against your hip. You felt your heartbeat begin to slow and enjoyed the feeling of Joel pressed against you everywhere. You let your eyes start to fall shut. He reached over and tapped your chin lightly. 
“I know it’s early, darlin’, but I can’t help but imagine sharing a bed with you like this all the time.” He met your eyes, a little hesitant, as he said it. 
You tilted your head into his hand and twisted your knee between his, trying to sooth him by getting closer. “It might be early in terms of how long we’ve been doing this, Joel, but we’ve been heading this way for a long time. Since we met.”
He nodded. “I know it. But I still don’t want to rush it – I want to savor every moment that gets us there.” You smiled at the acknowledgement that you were both in this with the same goal, same dream. “And it’s not just about this, you know, even though you blew my fucking mind tonight. I love watching you get to know Sarah too, and seeing how we fit together. Everywhere.”
“Me too, Joel. She’s important to me, and I want this to last.” You looked at him for a moment, and then smirked. “We can take the long way, get lost in it a little bit. Do some exploring.”
He eyed you, and you could see that he was trying not to smile. “Exploring, huh?” He moved his right hand to your lower back and pushed down firmly, moving your hips to meet his as he thrust upwards. You felt his cock stir against your hip. “Well, you just let me know what you have in mind. I’ll be ready.”
...
a/n: chapter 5 coming Sunday, 8/27 :)
a/n: ch 5 now posted!
Tag list: @morgaussy  @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe
Club playlist (all songs are on the series playlist) Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up) John Deere Green My Maria I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why) (This Ain’t) No Thinkin’ Thing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! Be My Baby Tonight Daddy’s Money Shut Up and Kiss Me Fast as You God Blessed Texas What About Now Boot Scootin’ Boogie
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itsgrimeytime · 11 months
Text
The Nurse (Part Eight) || Rick Grimes (TWD)
Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight
AVAILABLE ON AO3
Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @moneyoverl0v3 @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen
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Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.
TWS: Blood, gore, angst, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), mention of trauma, crying, threats, Rick is kind of losing it???, talk about never seeing someone again, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.
[[A/N: Unhinged Rick is kind of in for me rn so... Yeah, that's how this came about. Do I know anything about the Governor's first attack on the prison? No. This is very lightly based on the plot. I listened to 'As the World Caves In' by Matt Matese when I was writing this... so, BEWARE. I did cry while writing this... Enjoy! Thanks for reading :)) ]]
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The first thing you heard of it was the noise. It was a loud engine, almost, and a rumbling across the ground. Loud and threatening, it only grew louder.
Something was coming.
Your head was blurry then, you moved through your office with quick hands -stashing whatever you could find into your cross-body bag. Somehow getting through the bleary alarm of Rick and the kids, echoing through your brain like the flashing lights of a police cruiser. You'd say you were proud of yourself, but there wasn't time.
A sting registering far off in your head, you zipped up the bag and tossed it over your shoulder -easily welding your weapon in the other. Ever since your people had started going missing, you'd been expecting it -somewhere deep in your head, you knew it could never be this perfect. It was pessimistic, sure, but you were in the apocalypse, you figured it was natural.
And then, you were on your feet. The speed at which you traveled along was a blur in your head, as you pushed through the few people that remained in the prison huddled behind different objects. You didn't stop to think of why.
"Y/N, what's-" a voice started, in that moment you barely recognized her -you'd seen her in the office once. That's all you could remember.
"J-Judith," you interrupted, voice desperate and strained against your throat -it was like the worry was clawing up, suffocating you.
She paused, eyeing your despair with a sort of sympathy, "I- I don't know, I'm sorry. I think Beth went up there last. I'm so sorry-"
You didn't even hesitate, pushing past her without so much as an extra thought. Judith's room, she was... Fuck, why couldn't you remember it now? Your eyes blinked in a bleary sort of haze, tears rising behind them, and you cursed at the sobs bubbling up your throat.
"Not now," you whispered into the empty hallway, trying to grasp the ground beneath you, "-not now."
Before you could get much farther, you heard something. There was a familiar tone, distant but you knew that tone. Something came over you, and you spun in your path determined that if Rick was out there, the kids were no doubt safe. Rick would never-
And then, the rumbling came to a stop under your feet.
A loud voice rang out through the air, you hadn't heard it before, but somehow you knew. Rick had told you enough about the thinning safety, despite him working so effortlessly to clear out the cell blocks. And Andrea...
"What do I want, Rick?"
You stepped out into the more open room, eyes catching on a few faces hidden behind the block walls -afraid of what was to come. And then, you saw him.
The Governor with a tank right at the gates, and your body stilled at recognizing one of the few figures framed out there: Rick.
"Little birdie told me that you have two doctors 'round here," his voice echoed out, and you watched as one too many eyes fell to you, "-think you can spare one for Woodbury?"
There was something in the way he said it, the slight lilt in his words to Rick, that made you know he was looking for you. He was looking to hurt Rick physically, and you were you. Andrea had told him so much, why not the thing between you and Rick?
You swung around, facing the crowd and trying to find any sort of familiar face -one you could trust. And then you saw him, Hershel.
His leg was still bandaged, but he was still trying to rise at the words -eager to help. Something in you knew he couldn't leave like this. The Governor wouldn't have sympathy, he'd die. He couldn't do whatever the Governor asked, but you... you could.
"Hershel," you whispered out in a hush, stopping the movement in it's tracks, "-stop. I need you to hold on to this for me, okay? You should know what everything i-"
"No," he answered, simply -desperately.
"Yes," you bit back the thickness in your throat, and tried to steady your voice, "-I... I have to."
"I can go."
"No," you spoke back, not breaking eye contact, "-you can't. You and I both know that. He wants me."
Hershel sighed, heavy, holding your hands in his -the only thing shining in his eyes was a deep sort of resignation. You didn't let him say another word.
It might change your mind, but you couldn't change your mind.
This was what you had to do, it was what would be better for the group -you'd do it. You'd do anything for these people, and with Hershel still there, it was easier.
You turned back around, now, only brandishing your weapon -a sort of deep heaviness in your chest but a fire in your eyes.
Rick had his back turned to you -fully focused on the opposite side of the fence. He stood tall, right in the path of the tank -if the Governor were to move it anymore. The fingers around your weapon tightened, as you pushed forward -eager to fix it because you knew you could.
"Well, hello," the Governor spoke, eye settling on you -carefully trying to recognize you (probably from Andrea's description), "-Y/N I presume, lovely for you to join us."
At your name, you saw Rick still -back still facing you, but you could almost see the bristle of tension hitting his shoulders. You figured he'd react that way, didn't help the soft twist in your chest -a sickening sort of guilt. As long as he was still alive, you could live with that.
Your response was quick, tone a touch less friendly to him, "Well, you asked for me, didn't you?"
"Smart one you got here, Rick."
That made his head swift towards the Governor, a heat heavy behind his eyes and a shift in his jaw. It was something so different than what you knew Rick to be -you felt a little out of place at the change. But something in you was pleased somehow at the anger for you.
Rick spoke, tone harsh but not moving in his stance at all -eyes speaking well enough for him, "I won't give up any of my people."
"Right," the Governor spoke, eyes looking to you, "-think we've covered that."
You stilled ever so slightly under his gaze, trying to stand tall in the face of a man who could surely end many lives in your group. Hand white knuckling your weapon, you didn't flinch at the attention.
As expected, he spoke to you, "What do you think? Do you want to chance your people?"
Your mouth opened, but he only continued.
"I'm sure you've seen what these things do to people," he gestured to the crowds of walkers around the fence -drawn to the noise, "-probably on the front lines, huh?"
Your mind was distantly filled with the hospital -blood on your scrubs, screams of a nurse. You remembered the first time you'd ever seen one, a patient had died -sudden cardiac arrest. An intern, god she was so young- had gone to check the vitals for some unusual behavior. An unhinged jaw-
No one had expected it.
"I-" you started, wishing the sob in your throat to go back down.
The Governor brought you no relief, crouching down to grab a jaw of a walker -pulling it close to the fence, "How much damage could this do? You probably know, right? Can you imagine what a crowd of them could do?"
You exhaled, trying to shake away the rush of emotions, now was not a good time. You hadn't thought about it all since... since it happened.
"Stop," Rick's voice was low, almost a growl.
"Oh, Sheriff to the rescue-" the Governor grinned, throwing the walker to the ground without so much as an extra thought, "-whose surprised?"
Squeezing the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly, fingers brushing against it -desperately trying to ground you at the moment. Exhaling, you stood just as tall -the slight shake of your hands barely noticeable against your stiffened form.
"Stop," Rick repeated, low and somehow balanced in his tone.
You exhaled, standing your ground -matching Rick's eyes with a sense of calm, "You don't?"
The Governor stalled slightly, just a slight flinch -your eyes could see it though. You knew of his loss, Michonne had told the group what she'd done to explain the furious rage after her.
"Haven't you had someone ripped to shreds by one? Teeth gnashing, skin ripping-" your voice was shaking, but you could see it working, "-or did you not? Were you not even there when it happened?"
The Governor was unsettled -a sort of unease on his face, "Brave, that's very brave, Y/N. Threatening the guy with a tank, that's new."
Rick was looking at you in hurried glances, eyes heavy on the shaking of your hands. He was trying to look over you, even in such a tense situation; something in you warmed at the thought. But you didn't have the nerve to look back at him -you wouldn't have the strength to leave if you did.
With the murmur of memories low in the back of your head, you braced yourself, "I'll go with you."
That sent Rick spinning to look at you, a threatening loom on his eyebrows -something hurt in his eyes, even out of the corner of your sight, it still seemed to squeeze your heart. Mouth forming to say something, and you weren't sure you could listen.
"A volunteer!" he yelled, cutting off the heavy eye contact, "This place that bad?"
"As long as you take that out of here," you ignored him -pointing at the tank just a breath from the fence that protected everyone in the prison, "-I'll... I'll go to Woodbury."
"Tough bargain," the Governor hummed in a sort of selfish sort of tone as if he was actually considering it. Like it wasn't exactly what he wanted.
"Y/N," Rick's voice was soft -just for you to hear, eyes turned to you and you couldn't help but look back this time. You saw it then, a sort of sadness deep in them -one you hadn't seen since... since you'd known him.
You mustered what you could, trying to tell him everything you could in that split second you had. Conveying how much you cared, that you were doing this for him. He had to know it was for him-
"Rick, this is what I have to do," your voice was shaky, the threat of tears looming ever-present, barely loud enough to hear over the crowd of anguish.
"You don't have to do anythin', nothin'. I can-"
"Rick," you whispered -a plead for him to listen, to accept it, "-I'm doing this. It's better for everyone, you have to understand-"
He stared at you, heavy with a sort of feeling that you felt in your own heart then. A sort of deep sorrow bubbling up in your chest -tightening against your heart, a sort of suffocating feeling. You swallowed it down the best you could, the catch in your throat so loud. You can't give in, you can't give in-
"Please," he uttered, shaky and open and vulnerable, it was the final straw. As he looked at you with such an honest open plea, something deep twisted in your stomach -a fiery mix of what fear you felt then, and what you felt for Rick.
Your words were quiet, so only he could hear them -you only wanted him to hear them. Last words skimming through your head, what was the last possible thing you ever wanted to say to him? If this was it, what did you want him to know?
"I love you."
It came out in a gust of air, breathed out, and for a second you worried he'd even heard it. It was so quiet that the wind could've caught it and blown it like a leaf -away from the intended ears. But then, you saw him.
He looked at you, he always was, but this time it was like he was really seeing you for the first time -a desperate sort of frantic search over you. If it was the last time, you imagined he'd want to remember it -every hair strand, every tear of your clothes, every scar on your face.
You knew because you wanted to remember his.
Steeling your face into something far less emotional, you spoke -curt and direct, "When are we leaving?"
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