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#bi tommy miller is bi
mariatesstruther · 8 months
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has anyone wrote a fic where tommy comes out to ellie yet
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bumblepony · 7 months
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So I gathered together the lovely little story that @clickergossip and I have been working on for the last couple of days and put it up on AO3.
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psychedelic-ink · 10 months
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𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni
word count: 9k
summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.
warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink
additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!
a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀
edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist
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Joel was lonely. 
He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 
Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.
But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 
Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 
Ravish 
Ravish 
Ravish 
It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 
Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 
Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 
JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 
He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 
“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 
Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 
While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 
Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 
Liked! Added to your queue for later.
Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 
Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 
Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 
Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 
Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 
“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 
“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 
“Patience everyone.” 
“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 
Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—
He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 
Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 
His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 
“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 
Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 
“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 
Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 
He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 
“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 
What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 
He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 
Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 
Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 
“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 
Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 
A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 
“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 
Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 
Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 
“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 
Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 
“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 
Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 
With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 
“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 
You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 
A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 
He wants them to come at the same time. 
Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 
Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 
“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 
She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 
He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 
“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  
Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 
His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 
 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 
“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 
Good girl. 
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Joel is a weak weak man. 
Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 
Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 
Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 
Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 
He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 
And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 
He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 
Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 
The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 
A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  
“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 
He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 
“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 
Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 
“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 
His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 
“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 
You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 
Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 
 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 
“Can—Can you hear me?” 
Her eyes sparkle. 
“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 
She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 
“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 
There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 
“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 
Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 
“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”
“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 
She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 
Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 
“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 
“Would you laugh if I said no?” 
“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 
Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 
Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  
“Anything that you like, sir?” 
“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 
“The heart-shaped ones?” 
Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 
“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 
“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 
“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 
Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 
Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 
“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 
“Yea.” 
“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 
She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 
His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 
Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 
“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 
“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 
Fuck. 
“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 
But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 
“Harder.” 
She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 
She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 
It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 
“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 
“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 
“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 
“P-Pillow?” 
She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 
“Shit, say that again.” 
“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 
She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 
“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 
With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 
“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 
“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 
With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 
The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 
“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 
Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 
“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 
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You hate visiting home. 
You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.
Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 
JMiller. 
You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 
You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 
You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 
Of course he did, he was perfect. 
Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 
Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 
Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 
“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 
“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 
“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 
He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 
“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 
You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 
“You know what—” 
“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  
You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 
The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 
“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 
You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 
“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 
The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 
“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 
He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 
You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 
“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 
“You don’t have—” 
“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 
“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 
The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 
Your rake your brain for answers. 
Why? 
Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 
His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 
“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 
You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 
“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 
Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 
“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.
“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 
Oh shit. 
Shit shit shit shit. 
It is him. 
JMiller—J stands for Joel. 
Fuck. 
“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 
He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 
“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 
“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 
“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 
Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 
Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 
“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 
“Technically you bought it.” 
“Right. . .” 
The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 
You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 
He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 
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After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 
He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 
It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 
“Is something wrong?” you ask. 
“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 
“Ask away.” 
“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 
“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 
Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 
He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 
“Is that okay?” 
This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
His grin is infectious. 
“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 
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You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 
The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 
He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 
You found it incredibly charming. 
As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 
Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 
“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 
Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 
“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 
You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 
Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 
“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 
“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 
You gasp, “P-Please.” 
He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 
He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 
“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 
Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 
“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 
Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 
Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—
“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 
A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 
“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 
You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 
“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 
“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 
Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 
“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 
He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 
Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 
“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 
When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 
“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 
“You really had low expectations, huh?” 
“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 
“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 
You smile, heart fluttering. 
“Me too.” 
3K notes · View notes
janaispunk · 24 days
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joel miller - oneshots - part 2
fic recs masterlist - please check the tags and warnings on each fic! if you enjoyed a fic, please show the writer some love <3
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into the deep end by @magpiepills
you're poison but a good kind by @northernbluess
only need ten by @pascalpvnk
creep it real! by @swiftispunk
leopard print & stuffing by @toxicanonymity (featuring tommy miller)
devour by @jksprincess10
trick or treat by @tieronecrush
a quiet storm by @ozarkthedog
boo by @pascalsbby
i put a spell on you, and now you're mine! by @5oh5
i wanna show you off & best kept secret by @joelscurls
innocent trouble by @velvetmud
punishment & safe and sound by @joelsgreys
trick or treat? by @morallyinept (featuring dave york & frankie morales)
checkmate & nobody does it like you do by @honeyedmiller
#1 girl by @joelhoney
i found the door by @tinycozycomfort
animals, tell me more, forget, use me & thankful by @endlessthxxghts
good to be home by @hearteyesforjoel
i hope you're happy by @blissfulbarbie
obedience by @wintrwinchestr
home for christmas & bunny tails by @sweetercalypso
a promise softly sung by @agentmarcuspike
five of joel miller's birthdays by @bastardmandennis
lover's rock by @tinygarbage
lonesome and mad by @hyzer34
all three dogs, wish you were here & walking through fire by @macfrog
shopping by @notjustjavierpena
strawberries and cream & a villain's monologue by @aurorawritestoescape
birthday surprise & the burglary by @aurorawritestoescape (featuring tommy miller)
ivy by @dancingtotuyo
apocalypse by @tremendum
sticky by @ezrasbirdie
told you i'd be back by @palioom
leftovers & the kind of love we make by @katiexpunk
please, mr miller? by @auteurdelabre
silent night by @javiscigarette
the stranger by @nala2811
full by @morallyinept
no soul to sell & in the next room by @atticrissfinch
i'll fix it for you by @bi-writes
for a good time call... joel & wrong until you make it right by @missredherring
tangled triumphs & our little sheep by @planet-marz1
fire walk by @motherofagony
stress by @joelsflannel
still sleepless, christmas after all & good with my hands by @mrsmando
distracted by @psychedelic-ink
rough day by @pedge-page
the art of breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads
the most wonderful time by @always-andromeda
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184 notes · View notes
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MINE - J.M
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Warnings: romance, mentions of dead kids
Pairing: Joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: you had known Joel for years and never would have guessed that a nice older man living in the middle of nowhere would bring you two together
Wordcount: 2.6k
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and I've done everything I know to try and make you mine and I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time
You couldn’t believe your eyes as you sat in the garden of Bill and Franks home. You and Tess had been playing with the radio to try and find a signal when you met a kind man named Frank who had offered for them to come round and work together.
Tess wanted to come but she twisted her ankle the any before and they decided it wold be dangerous to take her, just in case something went wrong and they couldn’t get out fast enough.
Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine sitting in the garden, a glass of red wine in your hand. You hadnt seen a house like this in the last 7 years ever since you entered the QZ on that fateful day.
As you looked at Joel, a smile on your face, you couldn’t imagine what your lives would’ve been like if the world would never had ended. You had known each other before then. You were 8 years younger than him and Sarahs babysitter, on that Friday night the world ended, you had been babysitting her whilst Joel was out to pick up Tommy from the station.
“This really is just amazing,” you said, unable to wipe your smile off of your face.
Frank smiled at you, nodding with the same sentiment - he had missed being able to talk to other people - before noticing that Bill was holding onto the gun in his hand, knuckles white.
“Can you not please,” frank said, almost reprimanding his partner for doing that. With a reluctant sigh, bill placed the gun on the table, keeping it pointed at Joel.
“I’m the same way,” Joel said and you nodded in agreement. He had always been the paranoid one in your relationship, or whatever the two of you had. You were always the light, trying to keep his spirit up and his soul intact.
“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic too?” Frank questioned in an almost sarcastic tone.
Bills brow furrowed as he looked at his partner and then back at Joel, “I’m not schizophrenic,” he said, shaking his head.
“Well can i just say how nice this is, to have a civilised meal,” You said, and Joel looked over at you, seeing the smile on your face, “Next time, we are going to have to bring Tess up here, she loves red wine,”
He had never seen you so happy and at peace, even though you were the happier one out of the three of you, and there was something about it that just made him want to smile too after all these years.
“I’m so sorry she couldn’t make it this time,” Frank said and you nodded your head in agreement.
“Yeah, its just been so long since I’ve been to such a beautiful place. I Just want to say thank you, so much, even if we don’t end up working together,” you explained and Frank nodded, pouring you another glass of wine.
“We are working together,” he said raising his glass. You raised yours as well, clinking your glasses together.
You tried not to think too much about business because you wanted to savour the moment of normality. As your hand rested on the table, Joels rested just slightly next to it, the skin on your hands touching. For a second, you wondered if nothing would have happened between you if the world never would have ended.
Despite the way he held you in the night when you were both lonely, you never kissed, never allowed yourselves that level of intimacy. But despite your arrangement to never fall in love, you had fallen head over heels with the man next to you, an emotionally unavailable man who was ready to fight the world to protect you.
“You know what, lets go inside, Ive been dying to show you something,” Frank said, standing up and breaking the silence.
You placed your wine glass down, standing up, “And I’ve been dying to go inside,” you said, turning back to place your hand on Joels shoulder, “Play nice Texas,”
Bills brows furrowed even further than they currently were, if that was possible, as he watched Frank lead you inside, "Not inside! Frank!" He called out, sighing when you two faded into the distance.
"I understand, if my-” Joel started to say his voice trailing off as he tried to find a word that described you, his friend, his lover, “-If mine brought strangers into this situation, I'd be mad too. We're just decent people trying to get by,"
That made him think about his relationship with you. Sure, he had fallen for you during your rendezvous’ but he knew that you would never go for a man like him. An older man who was broken and couldn’t formulate his emotions, you had so much life ahead of you and he couldn’t ruin that.
Bill scoffed at his sentiment, "Aren't I the lucky one?” He said sarcastically, clearly not interested in the alliance between the four of them plus Tess.
"We can help each other, there's things in the QZ you don't have, books, medicine, machine parts," he said, shaking his head as he looked at the gun Bill still had his fist around,“So why don’t you get that gun out of my face?”
Bill reluctantly clicked the gun onto safety before placing it in a holster on his thigh, his hands coming back onto the table. There was silence for a little while, neither men not knowing what to do without their partners to buff the conversation.
“So what, you were a prepped or something,” Joel questioned
“A survivalist,” Bill clarified before goingback to theor conversation, “Maybe you’re decent people but we are self sufficient here, I don’t need you or your fiend complicating our lives,”
Joel looked over at the fence that separates the small town from tthe rest of the rotting world, “That fence has a year on it tops, galvanised wires already starting to corrode. I can get you enough spools to last you the rest of your life, lives,” he explained.
Inside, you had finished your tour of the house when you landed in the living room, your hand brushing over a cabinets as you looked at the glasses and china plates inside.
"So, How'd you two meet?" You asked and Frank explained how he fell into one of bills traps and the man took mercy on him, the two of them proceeding to live together and fall in love.
"What about you two?" Frank questioned. He had noticed the intimate relationship between the two adults the moment they got into the fence, the way Joel's hand would rest on her back and the other would rest on the gun as if he was always trying to protect her
"Before it all happened," you explained, turning to look at him, "Always the gentleman, always the protector,"
“How long have you been together?” Frank questioned.
Your head whipped around and you snorted in disbelief, “Me and Joel? God, he doesn’t like me back,” you said, your smile fading at the last sentence.
Now it was franks turn to laugh in disbelief at your statement, “That man is in love with you, completely and utterly in love,” he explained, watching your brows crease together in shock, “Its the small things, he pulled your chair out for you, tucked your hair behind your ears. Darling, its just the way he looks at you,”
Your eyes were wide as you came to the realisation that he might have feelings for you, feelings that he hadn't even realised yet.
“Okay, maybe,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to ignore the revelation, “Is this your piano?”
You sat down at the bench and flicked through the book already resting on top, your fingers playing the tune. You remembered growing up with the piano in your small home, you remembered playing the piano to Sarah and teaching her during your sessions.
You heard a call of your name and turned to see Joel standing at the door frame, “We should go now darlin’” he said and your heart fluttered at the nickname. You didnt fail to notice the teary look in your eyes as he heard you singing to yourself and playing the piano, it was almost like nothing had ever changed, like you were still 27 and trying to teach a 12 year old how to play piano.
You looked back at Frank and the man smiled, noticing how you finally realised that Joel reciprocated your feelings to some level.
You stood up, tucking the chair in and walking over to Joel. The two of you walked towards the gate, Frank talking to him about something that you werent really focusing on.
“One last thing,” Frank said, pulling out something from his pocket. It was paint and a paintbrush, “You mentioned you like art over the radio,”
"Are you sure about this?” You asked, your eyes wide as you looked at it. He placed it in your hands. It was only small, four or five colours but it was enough to start off with.
“Yeah, you can come back and trade, and bring your friend Tess, I'm sorry she couldn't come,” he said and you nodded.
You looked over at Joel, seeing a hint of a smile pulling at his lips and you knew he had something to do with this. He also couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your wide grin over something so mundane as paints.
“I have this idea, we can use codes fo the radios, you know, in case anyone is listening,” he said and you nodded your head the two of you walking over to the gate whilst you put the paint in your bag.
"Sounds awesome. Thanks for letting us come stay, it means a lot," you said, your voice fading into the distance.
Joel and Bill stood at a distance, both men still unsure how to talk to one another.
“FEDRA will never come up here, you’re well protected from stray infected but soon you will have aides, they’ll come at night, quiet and armed,” he explained, trying to help the man.
He knew that if he was living here with you, then he would be the same way. He wouldn’t let anyone give him advice on how to save the person that he loved or how to protect them the best.
"We'll be fine," Bill said, still stoic. He knew that one day they would need help but right now, he was too stubborn to admit that to the man he had just met.
You turned to look at the men, Joel walking over, "Thank you Bill, Frank,” you said, as smile on your face.
Bill gave you an attempt at a smile from where he stood in the distance and you nodded. You placed your hand on Joel’s shoulder and he looked down at you, a smile on your face as Frank opened the gate.
“See you soon Frank,” you said as the gate closed behind you, the two of you beginning the walk away.
As the two of you walked in your normal comfortable silence, you thought back to what Frank had said earlier about Joel loving you and as you looked up at this man who had been burnt and broken by every person he had ever loved before, you didn’t know what he was actually feeling.
“I was talking to Frank about you,” you said, breaking the silence.
He looked down at you and you looked up at him, trying to figure out what to say. There was no simple way to ask the man you had known for the last 15 years if he ever loved you or if he just saw you as that 20 year old college student who had come to babysit Sarah as a child still.
“What’d he say?” Joel questioned and you shrugged your shoulders, heart pounding in your chest.
“Not much, just that-” you stopped speaking, unsure of how to phrase it, “-that you seemed like a good man,”
You cursed yourself for not taking the opportunity to tell him about how you felt towards him. There was an air of tension now between you, or at least you thought there was, you could have just been making that up.
“And uh, he said that he thought you loved me,” the words just blurted out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Joel froze where he was standing and you looked back at him. You’d never seen his face look like that before, a mix between shocked and horrified, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
“Do you love me Joel?” You questioned, tears welling up in your eyes. You had never made yourself so vulnerable in front of any man before, you had always been too scared, “Because if you don’t then that’s okay, I didn’t expect you to ever feel the same way,”
He listened to you ramble on, heartbeat in his ears muffling your words. He couldn’t believe that you felt the same way towards him, that you didnt just see him as the broken shell of a man who always tried to protect those he loved.
The silence from him told you everything you needed to know and you tried to keep the tears from spilling over your cheeks. You had just bared your soul to that man and he had nothing to say back to you.
“Its okay that you don’t love me Joel, I was stupid to ever th-” you started to say, a single tear escaping your waterline. He cut you off when you tried to walk away, his hadn grabbing onto your wrist
“Look at me,” he said and you opened your eyes and looked at Joel, at the man who meant the world to you. With his hand still holding your wrist, he stepped closer to you so your noses were almost touching, “You’re not stupid, you’re right. I just can't say it out loud,”
You nodded your head, leaning in so that your noses bumped together, “I love you Joel Miller,” you said and he nodded, leaning in and kissing you for the first time on the lips.
He was experienced and when you pulled away for air, you jumped right back in, hands coming up to cradle his face to keep him as close as possible. You didn't want to ever let go of him now.
When he pulled away, forehead resting on yours, his breath heavy, he looked down at you, “I love you too,” he said, his words quiet as if he was afraid to say them out loud, “You’re mine,”
You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, “I’m yours,” you reassured before reaching down and grabbing his hand, “And you’re mine,”
You wanted to relish in the moment but the sun was already starting to set and you two wanted to make it to the checkmark before the sun set, “We've got to go, and maybe we can really consummate our relationship back in the QZ,”
He chuckled at your words, his face heating up at the insinuation. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, pulling your intertwined hands up to his lips, “You’d like that wouldn't you darling,” he joked
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noxturnalpascal · 4 months
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My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped
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I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.
I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.
I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.
I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!!  I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!
In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!
Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)
@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)
@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)
@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)
@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)
@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)
@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)
Fave Ongoing Series
Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3
Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin
Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie
On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal
The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker
From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5
A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir
Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar
Fave Finished Series
A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)
Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena
Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren
Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy
Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou
Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey
Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda
Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom
Fave Characters
Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk
Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer
Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes
Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx
Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys
THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie
Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch
Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy
Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)
Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept
Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites
Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark
Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell
The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape
I don't know man.... I just know I like it
Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink
Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44
Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page
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Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!
159 notes · View notes
Text
Slow
Summary: A night out celebrating Miller Contracting finishing their first big contract on time with the next one around the corner, leaves you going home with Joel and Frank, spending a night with both men you would have never dreamed of.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader x Frank Castle
Wordcount: 3,864
Rating: E
Warnings: somewhat established relationships, unspecified age gap, alcohol, smut (oral m receiving, unprotected sex) mmf threesome, everyone is bi here, feelings, a little derogatory language, public fingering, no outbreak AU
A/N: this is something I did not know I needed 26 hours ago. Also only a little edited. This is just for fun. I also fucking hate writing threesomes so if you find mistakes, please don't tell me lol
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post a new fic
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„So, come around here often?“ You tried not to roll your eyes, leaning with your side against the bar counter of the shady, yet cozy dive bar your boss had all invited you to to celebrate finishing the first big project on time and landing two new ones. 
You hadn’t worked that long for Miller Contracting Ltd. You hadn’t been living in Austin long in the first place. A shitty break up and a boss who did not know how to keep his hands to himself let you pack your few belongings and visit your best friend almost a year ago. It had been a five day road trip, but it had changed your life. 
Now you had your own apartment, a new car and a new job as…. The girl for well, everything that had to do with numbers at Miller Contracting. 
Your boss did not make a big secret out of his dislike for paperwork in your interview.
Which led you standing in one of your favourite summer dresses, waiting for the guy behind the bar to notice you so you could order the last round for the table. 
You tilted your head to the side, finding Tommy looking at you, his eyebrows wiggling playfully, a silly grin on his lips. Tommy Miller was the younger of the Miller brothers and definitely had a drink (or three) too much already.
„Not sure if your wife likes you flirting with other woman, Miller,“ you grinned and he chuckled. 
„Not flirting. Don’t need to. I have the hottest wife at home. Here to help you,“ he said. 
You smiled, loving how in love he was with his wife, their first baby on the way. 
The bar man finally approached and Tommy ordered another round, water for you, and began to talk to the man about the latest football match. Something you very much were not interested in. 
Taking this as your cue to go you turned away, walking slowly back to the table. It was already getting late, and most of the workers had already left for home. Only Frank and Joel, your boss, were left.
They seemed to be in a deep discussion, leaving you to admire them both as you walked back over to the table. 
Frank had joined the crew not too long ago. Moving from outer state, looking for a job he had shown up at the working site, ready to be put to work. He had politely asked to talk to whoever is in charge after he knocked at the trailer that had been set up at the construction site for you. 
If you appeared… flustered he did not comment on it, talking to Joel who had been in the trailer with you to… talk about the pay checks for the coming week. 
At least that’s what he told everyone the day before the checks were due. 
Yes you did talk about the checks for the first ten minutes. The remaining time, however much he had left, was spend with you bend over your desk and he railing you from behind until you were both more than satisfied. 
You hadn’t been looking for someone. Much less your boss. Not that you thought a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you. 
He was… the manliest man you had ever met, older than you by a couple years. A hardworking Single Dad of a adorable twelve year old named Sarah. 
He was tall, broad, the slightest of silver shining through this dark hair and beard.
Funny enough the first time you slept together was after you both were a little tipsy in just this bar, waking up in his bed with a pleasant soreness you had never felt before, leaving for an awkward breakfast at which you both decided that you had to try this again sober. 
Deciding pretty quickly that you both wanted to continue seeing each other, no strings attached after. 
You, because you were figuring out a way to let you believe a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you (and your body) and Joel because he didn’t know how to let someone in and let them see the real him. The man who was scared to fall in love, to let someone in. 
Even though he already was very much in love with you. 
Not that you would know. 
You smiled at Frank as he looked up, sitting down next to Joel. Not too close, not too far. Even though part of you wanted to lean against his side and play with his hand that was resting on the bench next to you. 
„Whatcha talking about?“ You asked. They both looked at each other, before looking back at you.
„Hockey,“ both said in union and you nodded slowly, suspicious. 
„Doesn’t sound like a lie at all,“ you nodded and they both laughed. You looked at Joel, finding him hiding a smile as he looked at you for a moment before he looked back at Frank. 
Frank brought the bottle of his beer to his lips, taking the last sip, before he leaned back against the bench, watching both you and Joel with a amused smile.
You could admit that Frank was fucking hot. 
There was something dark about him, that made him even more attractive. And yeah when he was at the construction site and was working shirtless you always found a reason to spend a little bit more time outside. 
Something even Joel had noticed, hissing against your ear as he fucked you hard, asking if you wanted Frank instead of him. 
You only realised after that Joel had been jealous, finding him working shirtless only a couple days after, winking at you as he found your eyes.
Tommy stumbled against the table with the drinks. 
„My very beautiful wife is waiting outside for me. Be good. Don’t do something I wouldn’t do,“ he grinned and waved before he turned around and walked towards the door. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. 
„It’s adorable how much he loves his wife,“ you said, grabbing the glass of water and pushing the bottles of beer to Frank and Joel. 
„Never seen him like that ever before,“ Joel admitted.
„It’s a fucking miracle to find your person in this fucked up world,“ Frank said and you nodded. 
„Cheers to that,“ Joel said, raising his bottle, clinking it with his. You raised your glass too, cheering towards Frank, almost jumping in your seat as you felt Joel’s hand come up to rest on your thigh. You turned your head towards him and he clinked his bottle against your glass, giving you a small smirk, before drinking. 
You gulped before taking a sip of water. 
You had switched to water after your second beer, having drive here from home. Sarah was staying with a friend so Joel had invited you to stay the night and you were looking forward to tipsy Joel having his way with you. 
„So how long have you two been fucking?“ You head Frank ask and you chocked on your water, turning your head towards the man sitting across from you. 
He had his arms crossed, long at both you and Joel with an amused smiled. 
Frowning you looked at him, trying to come up with a lie you could tell him when Joel opened his mouth. 
„Better part of a year,“ he said and your mouth parted, shocked.
You two never had the discussion about telling anyone when you both still weren’t sure what this was or could become. Not that anyone ever had noticed until now.
Joel looked at you with a warm smile. He squeezed your thigh and you found yourself smiling back, warmth washing over at his admission. He did not even think about lying and it felt so fucking good to have a man not wanting to hide you like a dirty little secret. 
Even though you had been sneaking around for a year, but this was different. 
„Lucky bastard,“ Frank said and your eyes snapped from Joel to him. 
He laughed at your expression. 
„Don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking beautiful,“ he said, his eyes fixed on you. 
„She is,“ Joel said and you felt hot all of the sudden. His fingers pushed your dress up, his hand slipping between your legs and you bit your lip, your eyes still on Frank. 
„I’ve seen you watching me, girl,“ he said and you parted your lips, your chest rising as your breathing got faster. Joel’s hand kept wandering up your thigh, your legs parting for him unconsciously. 
„I haven’t…“ you began to lie, but Joel clicked his tongue. 
„Don’t lie to him, darlin’,“ he hummed, his hand between your legs pulling you closer towards him and you gasped. 
„Yeah, don’t lie to me darlin’,“ Frank repeated with a small smirk. 
„What… What is happening?“ You asked, lust clouding your mind, your panties wet as Joel fingers finally found their way to them. 
He hummed, his head bending down, his forehead resting against the side of your head. 
„Frank here had an idea to celebrate the good work you do,“ he said. 
„The work I do?“ You asked. 
„You’re the brain, we the muscle baby,“ Joel said and you gasped as his fingers pushed underneath your panties. 
„You… you did not talk about hockey while I went to get drinks,“ you said.
„No,“ Joel said.
„Joel…“ you whispered. 
„Tonight is about making you feel good. However you want,“ Frank said and you looked at him as Joel slowly pushed one of his fingers inside of you. 
You moaned quietly, your eyes slipping closed. 
„You want Frank and me to fuck you, baby?“ Joel hummed against your ear. Your eyes opened, looking at Frank who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer. 
You looked at Joel, his fingers slowly fucking into you. 
You wanted to ask him, where this idea came from. If he was certain. If he was really suggesting what you thought he was. As if he could read your mind he leaned close against your ear, whispering a quiet it’s okay. 
Flooded with confidence you turned your head, pressing your lips against his. 
„I’m taking you both home,“ you said, watching both men smirk. 
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You were drunk on the power you felt as two of the hottest men you had ever laid eyes on sat on Joel’s bed, looking up at you. 
You had driven to Joel’s place with him in the car with you, Frank following behind. 
On the way Joel assured you that you were in charge to which you told him you didn’t want to be. You wanted them to fucking wreck you.
So he made you repeat the rules. 
Green for keep going. 
Yellow for slow down. 
Red for stop. 
You had never used anything than green with him before, and you did not plan on doing differently today. You trusted Frank. And you trusted Joel to keep you safe, no matter what. 
He told you to strip down for them as soon as you entered the bedroom, which left you here, slowly pushing your dress from your shoulders, swinging your hips with a shy smile as you let the fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but white laced lingerie you had worn for Joel. 
He had told you he loved you in white a while ago.
„Slower,“ Joel said, his hand palming his cock, still hidden inside his jeans. Your eyes moved from him to Frank you had his bottom lip between his teeth and one hand inside his pants. 
„Think about all the times you watched Frank work in the heat outside. Give him a little show, sweetheart,“ Joel hummed and you shuddered.
You turned away from them, taking a deep breath. You let your hands wander up an down your sides, your fingers playing with the straps of your bra, looking over you shoulder at both of them. 
Slowly up pushed the straps down before you unclasped your bra in the front, turning around, your hands covering your tits.
You found Frank’s eyes as you let your bra slip from your arms, revealing your bare tits to him for the first time. He hummed, his eyes burning as they raked over every inch of naked skin revealed to him. 
You hadn’t noticed Joel taking his cock out, his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it. 
„Go on,“ Frank nodded, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. 
„I think it would be only be fair if you get rid of some clothes to, Gentlemen,“ you said. 
„That so?“ Joel asked and you nodded. 
He looked at you, amusement in his eyes. 
„You heard the lady, Castle. Show her those abs,“ he said and you couldn’t stop your giggle at seeing Frank roll his eyes. 
Both of them took their shirts off at the same time and you couldn’t help yourself as you walked over, bringing one of your hands up to each of their broad chests. 
You sighed when you felt Joel’s hand hook into your panties, pulling them down your legs as Frank leaned in, kissing your tits.
„How about you get down on those pretty knees and suck Frank’s cock,“ Joel said and you looked down to his cock, biting your lip. He got up from the bed, his fingers tilting your chin up, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss.
„Show him how good your mouth is,“ he whispered and you nodded, looking back at Frank who had pulled down his pants in the meantime, his cock hard and leaking against his tummy. 
Slowly you lowered to your knees between his legs. His hand came to cup your cheek as you looked up at him, his thump pushing inside your mouth. You closed your lips around it, flicking your tongue over it. 
He smirked. 
„Imagined those lips around my cock so many times,“ he said, pulling his thumb out. 
„Yeah?“ You asked, your hand carefully wrapping around his cock. 
He hissed, his jaw clenching while he nodded. 
„Let me know if I live up to your Imagination,“ you said, your lips kissing the tip of his cock, humming as you licked your lips, tasting his precum. 
„Fuck me,“ he groaned and you grinned as you parted your lips to suck on the tip of his cock. 
Hallowing your cheeks you slowly took him deeper, humming at his taste. He was a bit thicker than Joel, maybe an inch or so smaller. Relaxing your jaw you took him deeper, bobbing your head slowly as you sucked him off. Your hands resting on his thighs, digging into his skin. 
The noises he made were downright sinful, your pussy clenching around nothing. 
His hand came to rest on the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair a little. 
„You can fuck her mouth. She loves it,“ Joel said from behind you and you moaned. 
„That so?“ Frank asked and you blinked your eyes, nodding with his cock in your mouth, humming around it. 
You felt Joel’s hand on the back of your neck and you looked up finding him hovering over you. 
„Come on, show him how much of a little cock slut you are,“ he said and you moaned, taking Frank’s cock deeper until your nose hit his pubic hair. 
You looked up at him, keeping him down your throat and he cursed before he began to fuck your mouth. Slowly at first, then getting rougher, the wet slurping of him fucking your mouth filling the room. 
„Fuck. You are good at that,“ he moaned, pulling out of your mouth. You smiled up at him, licking your lips. He got up to stand, pulling you up with him, kissing you hard. You moaned against his lips as you felt Joel on your back, kissing up your shoulder. 
Feeling four hands on you was a strange sensation. Someone was holding your tits in his hands, while other hands squeezed your ass. Frank’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you let yourself relax against Joel’s strong chest. 
„You can fuck her. But don’t cum inside of her,“ Joel hummed against your skin, kissing up your neck. 
You loved when he got a little possessive.
Frank parted from your lips, one of his hands holding your face as he looked at you, dark eyes fixed on yours. Joel’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers playing with your clit. 
„Want me to fuck you?“ Frank asked. You nodded, pecking his lips. You turned your head to the side, Joel’s lips finding yours before you watched him kiss Frank, your pussy clenched at watching them kiss.
„Get on the bed. On your back. Wanna look at you when I make you cum,“ Frank rasped and you nodded. He took a step back and you got on the bed, flooded with confidence you spread your legs, laughing when he crawled over to you, kissing your lips. You felt the bed dip on your side and then there was Joel. 
His warm body against your side. 
Frank’s hands were on your thighs, pushing them apart as he kissed down your body. His lips closing around your nipple. 
„So fucking perfect. You’re a lucky bastard Miller,“ he said, flicking his tongue over your nipple. 
Instead of answering Joel leaned in and kissed you, humming against your lips. He deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing one of your tits. 
You felt Frank line up between your folds, the head of his cock slipping through your slick.
„She’s fucking soaked,“ he groaned and you sucked Joel’s lip between your lips as he parted from you. 
Frank rolled you to your side, so you were laying with him against your chest, one of his arms pulling you against him, and Joel behind you. You felt Joel’s hand on your stomach, his lips against your shoulder. 
Frank wrapped your leg above his, his cock between your legs.
„Want me to fuck you now?“ Frank asked, kissing you softly. 
„Please,“ you whimpered and he chuckled. 
„I got you,“ he cooed, parting your legs a little wider to make space for him, slowly sinking into your heat. 
You felt every inch of him, letting your head slowly fall back against Joel’s.
„Shit you’re so fucking wet. So warm,“ Frank groaned, slowly fucking into you. 
You moaned, closing your eyes. You felt Joel’s hand play with your tits and you reached behind, wanting to touch him. Opening your eyes you looked down and behind, finding Frank’s hand wrapped around Joel’s cock, slowly pumping his length all while he fucked you. 
„Fuck you’re both so hot,“ you whimpered and they chuckled. 
„You’re fucking breathtaking, baby,“ Joel hummed behind you and you whimpered. 
Frank began to fuck you harder, his thrusts hitting that spot inside of you, that made your whole body shake. 
„Oh, she’s close,“ Joel hummed and you felt his hand sneak between your legs, finding your clit, beginning to circle it. Frank’s hand was now on your hip, moving you against him. 
„Make her cum, Castle,“ Joel snarled. You reached your arm back, your fingers pushing into Joel’s hair, your fingernails scratching over his scalp. He kissed the side of your head, pinched your nipple and with the way Frank was fucking into you it was only seconds before you exploded, your orgasm making you cry out loudly.
„Fuck… Fuck,“ you heard Frank curse before he pulled out of you. Looking down you saw him jerking himself off before ropes of cum hit your stomach. You where still shaking from your orgasm when you felt Joel line himself up behind you and thrust into your still fluttering pussy. 
Your eyes closed, whimpering as Joel fucked into you hard and fast. 
„Always so fucking good for me,“ he groaned behind you and you moaned. Lips were on yours and you opened your eyes to find Frank kissing you. His hand now replacing Joel’s on your clit. 
„You gonna cum for him again?“ Frank rasped. 
„I can’t….“ You whimpered. 
„You can. Cum for me. Cum for me and I’ll fill this little pussy up. Just the way you like it, baby….“ Joel moaned behind you. 
„Fuck,“ you moaned.
Within minutes (or seconds or hours you weren’t sure anymore) you were coming again, clenching Joel’s cock so hard he chocked on a groan, fucking into you a couple more times until he twitched inside of you and filled you with his cum. 
„Oh fuck,“ you felt his forehead rest against the back of your head. 
„Oh fuck indeed,“ Frank said and you looked at him. 
You were a sweaty tangled mess of limbs and you could not remember the last time you felt so… satisfied. 
Still trying to fill your lungs with air you hissed when Joel slowly pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping out of you. 
Humming, your eyes closed you snuggled into Joel’s chest, his arms around you and Frank hugging you both. 
You opened your eyes when you felt Frank move, giving you a shit eating grin as he slipped down the mattress, his face coming between your legs. You shuddered when you felt his tongue licking your pussy, cleaning you softly, humming like it was the most delicious meal. 
He pressed a kiss on your hip when he was finished, coming up to pull you close, leaning over your head to kiss Joel and then you. 
„That was….“ You began, trying to find words. 
„Should have done that sooner,“ Joel said and you chuckled. 
„Didn’t know that was an option,“ Frank said and you agreed. 
„Whatever my girl wants, she gets,“ Joel said, kissing your shoulder. 
You must have dozed of at some point, waking up cuddled against Joel’s chest, sheets covering your body. 
He was watching you. Joel had cleaned you up when Frank had said goodbye, not without telling him that it was time to get his head our of his ass and make things official with you. 
„Where’s Frank?“ You asked sleepily. 
„Left an hour ago. Told me to let you sleep,“ he whispered. 
You pouted. 
„Feel like I should have thanked him,“ you said and Joel chuckled. 
„You’ll see him next week. Bring him a fruit basked,“ he kissed your forehead. And you playfully slapped his chest. 
„Didn’t know you liked men too,“ you smiled. 
„What can I say? I’m full of surprises,“ he teased.
„Yes, yes you are,“ you sighed, kissing his chest. 
„Everything okay between us?“ You asked, half asleep. 
„Better than okay,“ he whispered just before you drifted back to sleep. 
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A week later you were sitting at your desk in the trailer when the door opened and Joel walked in. He locked the door behind him and you grinned as he walked over. 
„Wanna have dinner with me tonight?“ He asked, as he walked over to you. 
„Like a date?“
„Like a date,“ he nodded, his hands coming to rest on your desk as he leaned towards you. 
„I’d like that,“ you whispered. 
„Great,“ he hummed, leaning down to kiss you softly. 
191 notes · View notes
marisferasiop · 7 months
Text
Transplant
Chapters: 2/3 up
Also on ao3 (part 2 now up on ao3!)
Rating: Explicit MINORS DNI- Clicking "read more" implies your consent!
Warnings: canon-typical gore, canon-typical violence, smut, p in v (unprotected, wrap your tool) no creampies, oral, hand jobs, money shots (we don't want apocalypse babies) mention of abortion (in passing- reader is a doctor), tremendous fluff ahead, some angst (re: Joel's insecurities), Ezra is his own warning, Joel is not bi in this but Ezra is (not rly acted upon but mentioned), poly dynamics and conversations, Ellie moving out, Cee and Ellie will be together by the end. Did I mention smut; literally the opening scene is smut.
Summary: You are a resident and the only trained doctor in Jackson. You're bubbly and sweet, outgoing and friendly--- and also in an unlabeled "situationship" with the town scrooge, Joel Miller. He won't say you're together, but he'll scare anyone else off.
When Tommy drags back a half- dead man and girl from a patrol, you dutifully patch them up and help them settle into their new slotted house- across Rancher Street from yours and Joel's houses. Ellie and Cee get in like a bonfire, and when Joel sees how often you talk to your newest patient, his insecurities make him draw up and away from you.
As you slowly give up on him and start something with Ezra, Joel's pining turns to frustration. Tommy convinces him to see if you'd be interested in being a throuple. Surprisingly, you and Ezra are both open to the idea.
But can Joel's insecurities and possessiveness withstand such an arrangement? Or will the blow of another loss be what finally breaks him?
Word count: about 10k (for part one of 3)
Author notes: Eyooooo I'm back on my bullshit with a new addition. This has been on ao3 for about a week. Please like and reblog to spread the wealth! Unlike ao3 this is not an archive and views depend on your interaction! (So does my continued writing!)
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Part One:
Joel has got you absolutely wrung dry.
You’re bent over your kitchen island, toes barely brushing the floor and thighs shaking from the aftershocks of your third ( fourth ?) orgasm since he’d shouldered his way through your door nearly an hour ago. Every time you gasp, he snaps his hips harder up into you.
Never fully satisfied with a fuck-and-duck, Joel had strode in, picked you up, kissed you senseless while he shoved your jeans down, smeared you face down across the countertop, and ate you from behind so thoroughly you weren't sure you could even take his cock from how tight he had your pussy clenched around his tongue and fingers.
But he had slipped into you easily, your drooling slick helping his fat girth stretch you wide despite the contractions of your most recent orgasm. He pounds into you now, with you pinioned efficiently under his breadth with a hand fisted in your hair at your nape and him holding your wrist in place behind your back to your opposite hip with the other. His soft grunts and murmured praise make your spine arch. Your hips are already bruising from the counter edge, and you bite your lip at the mental image of seeing that erotic evidence later.
You push your free hand beyond the ledge of the worktop and swirl your fingers over your engorged, oversensitive clit, propelling you quickly into another orgasm- though this one is not as strong. Your body is absolutely exhausted from his diligent overworking.
“ Almost - honey , just –” he grunts rhythmically with the slap of his hips, and pulls out to spill across your ass just as abruptly as he’d dove in. He drapes down over your back, catching his breath with his mouth fastened on your shoulder. You reach up and wind your fingers in his hair, keeping him bowed over you, warm and close, catching your breath. Barely a minute passes before he pulls back and is moving slowly away to the bathroom under the stairs to fetch a damp cloth.
He wipes at the mess between your legs and on your lower back, and you think of him planting a firm hand there earlier to guide you out of the Tipsy Bison after catching a guy just winding down from that day’s supply scouting trip having the audacity to flirt (poorly) with you.
Joel won't say he's yours , or you’re his , but he’ll sure as hell scare off any competition. You’d bring it up if it was bothersome; in reality you sort of like the unleashed, broad, imposing dominance of him, paired with the open availability for sex that he’s left largely up to you. Like an ongoing, wildly overprotective booty call.
The thought makes you huff a quiet laugh into your forearm.
Most of Jackson is still wide-eyed and wary of him. Rumors of how he and Ellie made it back to Jackson are rife with hyperbole- making the nearing-sixty older man out to be some sort of superhuman mass murderer.
You’re just sure that even if he is, he did what he had to to protect his little girl.
Even more rumors abound about how the town’s resident scrooge managed to stake a(n unsubstantiated) claim on the town’s most level- headed and sun-shiney bachelorette- the commune’s only actual doctor.
Joel is tossing the soiled rag in the sink and helping you back to your feet on wobbly legs when there's a pounding at your door.
“Come on, Sunny! We got an injured guy back from patrol!” you hear Brendan, the head of the wall patrol yelling from the porch.
“ Shit ,” you yank your clothes back up in a hurry. You blink up at Joel, pulled too fast from bliss into action. “Sounds like I'll be at the clinic late.”
Joel nods and shoves his boots on, intending to take the back door and cut through the back yard to his house next door. “See ya tomorrow, then, hon,” he murmurs. He drops a kiss to your cheek and shuts the door behind him, locking the knob.
You grab your heavy coat and shrug it on to beat the swirls of snow outside before rushing out and meeting Brendan on the street.
“What happened?”
“Patrol brought in a girl and her dad, he’s unconscious, feverish, and bleeding real bad. Both are hypothermic. Tested negative of course, both of ‘em, but I'm not real sure the guy’s gonna make it.” You are both hurrying across town back to your clinic as fast as the frigid air icing down your throat will let you.
“Animal, infected, or raiders?”
“I think they broke off a slaver ring,” Brendan says quietly, leaning in as you rush up the porch. “That, or some raiders had them for a while . He’s -- I don't know what to make of the arm injury, it’s fucked . But he’s been stabbed in the chest, and Sam said she thinks he’s got frostbite.”
“ Fuck ,” you growl, and wrench open the door to your clinic and rush to the back. Immediately, five heads turn to you and sigh in relief. Sam, your nurse, has an unconscious man hooked up to IV and is covering his freezing body with the weighted damp- heat warming pads from the steamer. You can tell from the port in his throat that she couldn't find a vein in his arms, he’s that cold and dehydrated.
“Everyone out but the girl and whoever found them,” you quip to the group, and three people file out. The girl is on a chair, shivering violently but already has a cup of something steaming cupped in both hands and is still in somewhat damp, bloody clothes, though her wet shoes and socks are on the floor by the space heater. Her face and hands are smeared with dried blood, but from a glance you can tell it’s probably her dad’s. Tommy is standing by her, still and waiting on your opinion. He drapes a blanket across her shoulders and looks to you.
You pull gloves on and check the man’s pulse- it’s weak but there. He’s absolutely frigid to the touch. The fingers on his right hand are completely purplish- black, but the whole arm is a loss anyway. Sam has already pulled off his soaking wet clothes; jeans, socks, and boots, and a damp contrast coat lays crumpled on the pile, arms still laced through with a flannel in the same condition. A wet trail of blood is leaking from the pile and you squint at it; it’s red- fresh . The man himself is in naught but his rank briefs and is positively covered in heating packs and blankets to get his temp back up.
You look directly at Tommy and shake your head once. He clenches his jaw and nods, turning to the girl. “We need details , hon. Anything you can give us that will help. Was this people, or a group of infected? Raiders? Or slavers? A trap? A- a bear ?” He asks, kneeling on one knee by her and speaking softly. The girl is practically catatonic, a feral glint the only light in her eyes. Her clothes and hair are matted down with blood as well, but doesn't appear injured, nothing more than superficially anyway. After a minute, she speaks:
“We were at a- a slave camp. Some raiders had taken over our QZ and turned it into a slave camp, a year or two ago after the bombings,” she says woodenly, staring at the man- who Brendan had told you was her father.
You see no resemblance, but then Joel has none to Ellie. That doesn't mean there's no bond. These days, bonds are often thicker than blood.
“We made a plan, snuck out with a guy who told us he was a coyote- like a smuggler, but for people? - but he just led us to a cabin outside the walls where they take people trying to escape. It was a trap.” Her eyes flick up to Tommy and then back to you.
“They were going to hurt me, and he said to take it out on him instead. So they did that,” she nods to the man’s mangled arm. “And I shot both of them when they were distracted. The second guy, I missed the first shot and he stabbed–” she breaks off, biting her lip, staring at the chest wound. “But I got him , and then we ran.”
“ Jesus ,” Tommy breathes. You grimace and plunge a dose of morphine into the guy’s shoulder. He doesn't even stir. You watch his face, swollen and mottled and bloodied up as it is. He’s got a laceration up into his hairline as well, both eyes blackened and you suspect a broken nose, a split lip and old, dried blood coming out of one ear. You grit your teeth and turn back to the girl.
“How long has it been?” You ask, peeling the flannel he’s wearing off his mutilated arm. The wound is the entire circumference of his arm, like they were literally trying to hack it off slowly, with small tools. They stopped at bone, but you can see scrapings on the white. It wasn't for lack of trying.
“We’ve been running from the cabin for three days. I dont- I don't know how long we were there. At first we had a horse but it spooked and ran off when we came across some wolves, and they chased it instead of us. Crossed the Wyoming border, I think, yesterday. He didn't make it very far. I made a - a draggy– thing . Sled? Dragged him for a little bit. But we haven't had food, or anything, since the horse bolted with our packs. So I couldn't go any longer, and put us down in an old shed that was falling down, but it had a roof. And then he found us,” she glances up at Tommy again, curling into herself a bit.
You nod and turn to Sam. “Get him to the OR and prep for an amputation, and push antibiotics. I'll be right there.” Sam nods and pushes the gurney down the hall, disappearing behind the double doors. You turn back to Tommy and speak quietly.
“How many resources am I using on this guy? I’m gonna have to anesthetize to amputate, use blood packs, antibiotics, and pain meds, that's just to hopefully stabilize him.”
Tommy nods. “Do it. We need more hands. Even with one, he’ll be helpful. And we can train her up in somethin’. Cookin’ or sewing. Hell, she shot two guys, she might be good on patrols or runs, eventually.”
You nod and glance at the girl. “Can you find her a place for the night? Feed her something easy- broth, toast, a warm bath, not hot; she might develop some frostbite. Drink at least two cups of water, and sleep .” He nods and steps back, gesturing for the girl to get up. You call out before they leave:
“Last thing hon- what’s your dad’s name?”
She turns back, looking haunted, and swallows hard, staring at the swinging doors where he was taken. She doesn't correct you. “Ezra.”
________________
“Ezra? Eeeezra , wake up sugar. Come on! That’s it, almost. Little more. Come to me, you’re safe. No- no , don’t. Stay down. Eyes open, sweetheart, come on.”
A soft, soothing voice is luring him toward the light, but an oppressive force keeps Ezra from actually cracking his eyes open. When he tries, light blinds his swollen lids and makes them ache. He groans and waves at whoever is talking, trying to get them to leave him be.
“Sam, dim the lights a bit,” he hears the voice call out, and finally blinks an eye open. His entire body is sore but also feels weighed down and stuffed with cotton. Morphine , some lizard part of his brain supplies.
What the fuck? Where am I?
He tries to lift his right arm and nothing happens. A sharp pain lances through him and then is softened by whatever’s in his bloodstream, funneling into the itchy, ice- cold spot on the side of his neck. He struggles to sit again and feels hands pushing him back.
“Ezra, Ezra ! Stay down, you're safe. We got your girl, she’s okay. You're both safe. You’re hurt, though. Real bad. I need you to stay still. Can you lay back for me and let me see your eyes?” The sweet voice is back, and feels like silk dragging against his jagged senses. Ezra swallows against a bone-dry throat and makes a gritty sound- not words. “Here’s some water- a straw-” you prod the seam of his mouth with something squishy- rubber , he thinks, and frowns.
It is indeed water, a rubbery medical tube cut down into a straw poking out of it, and he struggles not to suck it all down before you’re already drawing away and telling him your name. “Not too fast, you’ll vomit it up. I’m the doctor here in Jackson. Your girl was found dragging you on a sled by our patrolmen, you tested negative for cordyceps so they brought you in. You’re hypothermic, and have a lot of injuries.”
“Cee?” He asks, raspy and uncoordinated. He finally fixes an eye on you, unable to open the other one, and you give him a small smile. “ Soleil ,” he says, and you huff a gentle laugh.
“Is Cee the girl? Your daughter?”
“Where she?” He asks, frowning. The action hurts his whole face, so he stops.
“She’s getting a hot meal and a shower, and hopefully some sleep. She’s okay, she’s not hurt. Just hungry and exhausted and scared. Can I prop you up just a little? Let me know if you get nauseous.” You lift the gurney on one side and prop him up maybe forty degrees when he nods. Ezra blinks around the room, watching it swirl in slow motion. There’s a bag of blood and a bag of IV fluid hanging off a rack above him, and you beside him, and another woman at the corner of the room. The aforementioned Sam , he guesses.
“I need to check your pupils. Gonna flash a light, can you follow my finger?” You cautiously rule out a concussion, though given the state of him, that’s a small comfort. “Ezra- can you remember what happened?”
He blinks at you and glances at the cup of water on the side table. You let him have another drink and take it away again. He feels nauseous. He swallows down the flood of saliva in his mouth and threads his brow together. “Slavers… took over our QZ in Bozeman ‘bout two years ago. I took Cee in when her father was killed. We worked together in the mines, he pissed off the pay clerk one day too many. She and I were running, trying to escape, and they trapped us. Those miscreants were gonna- gonna use her. Rape her. Talked about pullin’ her guts out so she couldn't get pregnant and putting her in the free use ring til she dropped. For the audacity of just tryna escape their manufactured hell. And I couldn't have that, so I told them to do what they would to me. And she- got ‘em. Somehow. Dragged me out half dead. Told her to leave me an’ run, but she wouldn't. Been… a few days, I think?”
“She said three days since you left the cabin. I've given you an antibiotic, painkillers. You just got out of surgery. Do you remember what they did to your arm?”
Ezra slits his one open eye at you and shifts, finally looking down at it. The still shock of his reaction worries you almost as much as the rest of his injuries did.
“I have to admit, I expected that.” he swallows against another roll of bile and drops his head back. “I am feeling nauseous now, soleil .”
You nod and drop him back, bringing a sick tray over in case he vomits. “I’m gonna give you another dose of pain meds and I need you to sleep , Ezra. I’ll stay here,” you tell Sam, nodding to the repurposed sofa along the wall while you push another dose into his IV port. “I’ll send one of the patrol guys over if I need a hand. Go get some sleep,” you tell her. “We can shift off tomorrow?”
“I’ll send Joel over for the night,” she says, and disappears before you can tell her no . You growl under your breath and turn back to your man on the gurney.
“You… don' like this Joel character?” Ezra says, his voice getting low and gritty again as the drugs start to pull him under. You give him a wry smile and scoff.
“It’s not that- he’s a worrier . He’ll sit out there on the porch all night with his rifle and freeze his ass off, and then I'll have two six foot tall, two hundred- fifty pound hypothermic, handome idiots to care for,” you tease, dragging a chuckle and a stilted, pained grin out of your patient.
Ezra huffs in mock offense at you. “I’d need a week of good meals to tip the scales like that anymore, chérie. Especially with the loss of– oh? Maybe eight, ten pounds’ worth of utility?” He glances back down at the tightly wrapped bundle of his amputation and sighs. “Any jobs in this town for a one- armed fella?”
“That is not what you need to be focused on right now,” you chastise. “Give yourself a few weeks. I sure we can find you something to do. We have a couple disabled folks here, you know. They pull their weight, too. It’ll be okay,” you tell him, covering him with two blankets and checking the heater in the room.
You give him your name again when he keeps calling you soleil and chérie , but it doesn't take. He must be delirious considering everything wrong with him right now. You settle back on the bench to wait for Joel to show. “If you wake up, yell at me. Do not try and get up by yourself,” you say, and Ezra nods, already mostly asleep. He finally drifts off a couple seconds later, and you tuck the blankets up closer around his neck, blocking the winter chill and still working to reheat his body. Less than five minutes later, you hear the thunk of the door shutting and move out of the recovery room into the hall.
Only one person in Jackson holds the bell when he walks in. A leftover habit of sneaking places, you assume.
“ Sunny ?” He calls, just before you push open the swinging door to the back.
“Hey,” you say, feeling awkward. “I told Sam not to get you.”
“Why?” Joel asks, frowning. You see that he feels abruptly wrong-footed and keep talking.
“I don't need a guard? I told Sam to go home, I'd call her if I need her. Guy has to sleep it off, he’s quite literally half dead.” You shake your head with a shudder. “Tommy took off with the girl; I don’t know where he put her for the night. She was ok though. Only about Ellie’s age. They broke from a slaver hold .”
Joel’s eyes drop wide and flick back toward the room you'd just come out of. “ Shit .”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “Anyway- go home. Get some sleep. Aren't you on night rounds starting this week?”
“Yeah,” he parrots back, scuffing his boot on the tile. “Don’t mind stayin’ though.”
“You can , of course. But I don't see why you’d sit here all night while I sleep when you can sleep in your own bed, not worry Ellie when she wakes up and you're gone. I’ll be back there if you decide to stay and need something.” You jerk your head back toward the hall and go back, hearing the front door shut behind you.
_______________
You wake up to someone calling your name urgently but not very loudly, and blink your eyes open. You’re confused at first as to why you're on the couch in the clinic until you remember.
Ezra is panting on the gurney, teeth gritted and trying to swallow his pained groans.
“ Shit ,” you jump up and hurry over. His entire body is tense and you can see that he’s making a concerted effort to not hold onto his surgical wound.
“ Please ,” he wheezes, and you realize the time- the morphine you have him would have worn off within the past hour.
“Shit, I'm sorry. Should’a yelled , I told you to. Hang on,” you prep a syringe and feed it into his IV port. Over the next minute, you watch as he slowly unclenches and relaxes a bit, still breathing hard, which you're sure is putting strain on his chest wound.
“Ezra, breathe with me. You gotta slow down- you're hurting the injury to your diaphragm.” His face looks worse today, you note, but the swelling is going down even if the bruising and scabbing is setting in worse. At least it looks like a face today instead of a pile of minced meat. One dark eye focuses on you and he tries to match your breathing; taking deeper, slower breaths that eventually even out. “There we go. Want a drink?”
“Yes, please,” he says, and you refill the bedside cup with cold water and plop the straw in it. He drinks half and pulls a face, dropping back to the mattress. “This nausea. Sucks almost as much– as the injuries,” he grits out, and you smile empathetically.
“You allergic to anything?”
“Nah,” he shakes his head, watching you rifle through a drawer and come back with a nausea tablet in a single-serve sachet.
“Put this under your tongue. I’ll go make some broth. You need something on your stomach,” you explain and drop the tablet under his tongue. He makes a face as the acrid “berry” taste, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I hate them, too. I’ll be right back,” you dip out and pad across the hall to the little kitchen. You drop a bouillon cube into a cup and fill it with hot water from the kettle and bring it back, stirring until the cube is dissolved.
“Almost daylight. I expect your girl’s gonna come tearing through here soon, demanding to see you. Anything specific I should say, if you're asleep?” You tip the broth into him slowly and he swallows it with a grateful hum.
“Prepare her for the amputation, I suppose. Not much else to say, is there? I suppose we’ll be directed to living quarters once I'm released from your care, chérie?”
You nod. “Yeah, I'm sure Maria and Tommy are already prepping a place for you two. Depends on where they put her last night.”
“ Cee ,” Ezra says, drinking the last of the soup. “Her name is Cee.”
“ Cee , then. I’ll keep an eye out for her. You go back to sleep.”
Ezra blinks his one working eye at you and lays his head back again, sighing deep. “Thank you, soleil ,” he says, quietly, and you nod.
“No problem. I mean it,” you say when he scowls. “You had a hard time up til now, sounds like. But Jackson is safe. Actually safe. You’ll see,” you smile at him, and he nods off with that final image behind his eyes.
Expecting the girl to show now that it’s daylight, you silently open the door and think about sitting in the waiting room out front. When you step thru the swinging door that divides the comfortable waiting space and the sterility of the clinic rooms, Joel startles awake from his slump along a row of chairs and reaches for the butt of a rifle that isn't there. You stop and blink at him, genuinely surprised.
“Thought you went home?”
He clears his throat and stands up, knees and back cracking as he stretches and straightens. “ Nnngmph . I started to. Then I decided not to.”
“Alright. You ok? Need some ice, old man?” You tease, noticing his wince when he stretches. He scowls at you but there's a smile tugging at his mouth.
“ No . You worry ‘bout your – patient. I’m fine.”
“Technically anyone in Jackson is my patient, as the only doctor,” you say slyly. “Can't get past my perfect bedside manner that easily, Miller.”
“Hmmmph,” Joel comments, wrapping you in a warm hug as he yawns hugely. “I think I experience your bedside manner often enough, sweetheart. But I can’t complain,” he taunts, and you pinch his side, making him chuckle.
The sound of shoes pounding up the porch outside makes you straighten away from Joel’s embrace to glance out the window behind his breadth. “Ah, she’s here.”
Cee bursts through the door with Marnie, the older kids’ teacher, on her heels, calling her back.
“Where is he?” Cee pants, wrenching away from Marnie’s hand when the older woman reaches for her arm.
“Good morning, Cee. Marnie, it’s okay. I expected her this morning.” You turn to Cee, but she’s frowning mightily at Joel, looking him up and down suspiciously. He lifts a brow at her through that permanent frown that everyone except Ellie sees, no longer intimidated by teen girls since re-obtaining one of his own. He scowls back at her, unimpressed, and she flicks her eyes to you.
“Did he make it?” The steadiness in her voice is only betrayed by her lower lip trembling. You nod and lead her back. Marnie throws her hands up with a huff and leaves, stomping off down the snowy porch.
“They plant you with her last night?” You ask, leading Cee through the back. She rolls her eyes and nods.
“Kind of a bitch, isn't she?” You snort and nod at her remark.
“She’s certainly a character. She handles the teens for a reason, though. Strict as hell, doesn't take their shit.” You open the last door and notice that Joel is hovering at the entrance to the hall.
“Gonna go check on Ellie,” he says, eyes tripping over Cee when you both look back at him.
You speak up; “Okay. Tell her I said hi. And tell your brother he's a twat for sending a new kid to stay with Marnie of all people! She’d have gotten a better welcome staying with you and Ellie. Get some actual sleep before your patrol!” He nods, waving a disparaging hand over his shoulder as he walks out. You turn back to Cee.
“I had to remove his injured arm, so expect that. He’s stable, I have him on antibiotics and a blood pack to fight the infection that started up from his wounds. He’s knocked out on pain meds right now. Okay? Any questions?”
Cee shakes her head and tips her brow at the door. “Let's go.”
You open the door and lead her in, watching as she stands at the foot of the gurney and stares at Ezra. She roves over his pulpy face, the missing arm and bandages, the line of red that has managed to seep through the dressing on his chest. You move to replace it, letting her take him in. Eventually she sits, and does end up asking you a few questions. She pets the tuft of blonde at his temple and watches you move around the space. You let them be quiet and alone for a while, listening to Ezra’s wheezing breaths as he sleeps off the meds and you clear up some old-school paperwork files of your various patients at the front desk.
As the day waxes and wanes, you get a man from patrol in for a sprained ankle from landing wrong off his horse onto an icy patch, and one woman in for a pregnancy checkup. The midwife Janet and her trainee Silvia are assisting with a birth on the other side of town, so you check the woman’s vitals and, when everything clears, tell her to come back in a couple days to see Janet properly.
Cee calls you from the hall, urgently, a few times. Once, Ezra is pale and shaking, trying to struggle to a sit and he’s burning up. You cover him in cool wraps and lay an ice pack on his forehead and stomach, bringing his temp down fast. You up the dose of antibiotics and hope for the best, without much to tell you what exactly is ailing him from the inside. Blood samples only go so far with just a microscope to test on.
The second time, he complains about the catheter and asks to get up and use the toilet. You send Cee out to the waiting room and remove it, assisting him in getting up and aiming at the bowl with his off hand, which he blushes at but forces himself to remember you are a medical professional . He needs to get up and walk anyway, and you're glad he feels up to it. You let her back in when he’s back in bed and tell her to call you if he asks to get up again.
Tommy shows up in the late afternoon, telling you and Cee that they’ve set up one of the houses on your street, which makes sense- yours is the one filling with new folks now. It's one of the last empty stretches. “House 407,” he hands Cee the keys and glances at Ezra in the bed. Sam chimes in the door, ready to take over for the night, and you’re grateful.
“I’ll show you the house, if you want?” You offer, expecting the girl to turn it down. She stares at Ezra for a long moment and nods.
“Can I come back, after checking it out?”
You nod, smiling. “Let me tell Sam what’s up and we can go.”
“How long have you been here?” Cee asks, plodding through the snow with you.
“Ah, about two years? Not long. Before me they had an old nurse, and she passed about eight months ago now. I was a medic for FEDRA; defected when they started bombing the rebelling QZs about eight years ago. I hopped around for a while, stayed in the wild with a small group for a year. They got killed when we ran afoul of a gas station filled with clickers. Came here in the winter, like you two. Sucks ,” you chuckle, stuffing your hands in your pockets.
“Who’s in charge? Like, is there a caste system?” She asks, looking around at the houses. They're all leftover suburban developments, what would have been solidly middle class Before; nothing terribly classist, but some are decidedly larger or fancier than others on some streets. They all have water and electricity and keep the infected out, and that’s what matters anymore. You say as much, and Cee nods.
“Maria and her husband, Tommy - the guy who found you- they sort of run everything. But it’s a commune - the point is we all have a say, we all share food, essentials, and medicine, and barter goods or skills. We all pull weight, rotate patrols and jobs. Some of us are more specialized, like me, being the doc. But I still have patrol duty, same as anyone.”
“What do you do when you're not saving people or setting twisted ankles or on patrol?”
You pause briefly, thinking of Joel. You huff and shrug. “I like to read.”
“Do you have books here!?”
You chuckle, getting the feel of the young teen quickly. She’s hardy, but still a kid . She reminds you a bit of Ellie, though maybe not as feral. “We have a library, yes. And you’ll go to school when you're both well enough. I expect Ezra can go home in a few days, if he's got someone there to help him take care of some things.”
“Like getting around and cleaning it and stuff?”
“Yeah, and getting used to losing his dominant hand. He might struggle to do a lot of things at first. He’ll feel like his arm is there, sometimes, and reach for things, so he might drop stuff or get frustrated easily. Don't take it personally,” you lean in and stage-whisper, and she nods sagely.
You direct her to turn left on Rancher Street and up a pathway toward number 407.
Your own house is across the street and down two, beside the fenced-off graveyard, which you point out to her.
“My neighbor, Joel, that big grumpy guy who was at the clinic earlier? He's got a girl about your age. Ellie. She’s– well maybe about seventeen now? Ish? How old are you?”
“I’ll be seventeen next month,” she says, glancing across at the houses where you pointed.
You nod and squint at her as she keys into the house and peers around in the dark. “We got electricity, hon,” you remind her gently and snap the lights on and her mouth drops open.
“All this is just ours? We don't have to share?”
“Not a bit. It’s yours. If it's like the rest of the houses in this neighborhood, it's got three rooms and two bathrooms- one in the hall upstairs, between the two smaller rooms, and one in the big bedroom. Tommy and Maria will have fitted you out with clothes, beds and blankets, TP, probably tampons or a cup, soap... Check the rooms and see, I'll wait.”
Cee stops with a foot above a tread and glances back at you. She looks hesitantly up at the yawning darkness at the top of the stairs. “I can come up, if you don't want to go alone?” When she nods, you follow.
She ducks into both of the smaller rooms and investigates the bathroom, which indeed has a stack of toilet paper and a diva cup and instructions on the counter with a bar of soap and a little pot of natural deodorant. “Aw, you got green !” You say, and grin when she frowns at you.
“We make the soap here, in one of the shops. The green one smells best,” you hand it to her and she sniffs it, smiling.
“I don't remember the last time we had soap. Or a hot bath. Ezra’s gonna flip .” She sets the bar down and goes into the larger of the two small bedrooms, sitting on the bed to bounce it. You smile at her exploring the room all over from the hall.
“Wanna see if they put clothes in here for your dad?”
“It’s just Ezra. He and my father dug in the mines but they hated one another. He took me in a couple years ago when the clerk and his goons killed my dad at the mine’s pay table. He had tried to barter his ration chit for more. Ezra knew if he didn't squirrel me away they’d put me in the free use ring with the other orphan girls. I’m sure he thought I'd be useful to him, at least at first.”
You blink at her deadpan and incredibly dark explanation and clear your throat. “ Ezra , then. They probably left a change of clothes for him. Can’t send him home in the snow in his civvies.”
“Do you care to check? I’d actually really like a shower and to change,” she grimaces down at her bloody clothes that Marnie appears to have simply dried and given back to her. Never one for going the extra mile, dear Marnie.
“Sure thing,” you say, and go out across the hall to check.
Sure enough, whoever had stocked the house had left a stack of three flannels, three tee shirts, a canvas and wool-lined contrast coat, a neat pyramid of socks and boxers, two pair of jeans, sleep clothes, and a set of re-soled boots on the bed. The bathroom in the big bedroom has another stack of matching toiletries. You pile up enough to make an outfit and take it downstairs, and wait on the little sofa.
Cee stirs you awake as she plummets down the stairs, eyes wide. You startle, unaware that you had nodded off. “Oh. I thought you’d left,” she says, and visibly steels herself. “Thank you for staying,” she says almost shyly.
“It's okay kid. I know you're not settled. It’s still overwhelming. It’ll take some adjusting. Where are you sleeping tonight?”
She pauses, glancing back up the darkened stairs and then out the window. “Can I stay at the clinic?”
You shrug. “Just tell Sam to let you have the sofa, she can use another bed. Yell at her if Ezra needs something.”
“Okay!” She agrees and shoves her boots back on. You hand her the bag of Ezra’s clothes and tell her the way back.
“Just follow the road to the end and turn left at the street sign. Clinic’s on the right, three doors from the end. Tell Sam I said you could stay til Ezra is released.” You nod at her and she bites her lip.
“Thank you.”
You nod again. “You're welcome , Cee. Go on, I'll see you tomorrow.”
You watch Cee lock up and plod across the road and down til she is out of sight, and go across to your own house. As you stomp the snow off your boots on the porch, Joel opens his door and leans on the frame.
“Jeez, girl. You just gettin’ home?”
“Yeah, just showed the girl their house and sent her back off to stay with her dad. I need to sleep for like, a week ,” you scoff, kicking your boots off into the tray by the door. “You ain't gone on patrol yet?”
Joel hums and looks you up and down, assessing. His deep seated need to care for and simultaneous desire to not care at all is a trait you find both adorable and grating. “Traded this week off; that Tyler kid wants to be home with his wife during the day. She had their kid this mornin’.”
“Ah, right. You wanting to sleep over?” You ask, and he gives you a half smile.
“You just said you needed sleep,” he teases, shooting you that tilted smirk. “Go on,” he waves at you batting your lashes playfully in answer, and you go inside giggling, leaving the door unlocked.
A moment later, probably after leaving Ellie a note on his whereabouts, Joel stomps through the door and leaves his snow-packed boots in the tray with yours after you give him an unimpressed brow at the puddles forming on your floor.
“We just sleepin’ or am I putting you to sleep?” he asks, shucking his coat.
“I’m taking a shower and going to sleep. If you facilitate either of those ends, that’s fine,” you shrug, smiling, already moving to the bathroom under the stairs.
Joel ends up eating your pussy in the shower til you shake apart, then ruts between your soapy thighs until he splashes come on the wall. After rinsing you down, he washes your hair and puts you to bed, spooning up tight behind you to keep the warmth in while you sleep.
The last thought you have before drifting off is that the soft swell of his belly, padded out over the last year or so with a more comfortable life and actual meals in Jackson, is perfectly fitted to the small of your back, and the feeling might just be your favorite part about relaxing anywhere with him.
_______________
You wake up before dawn sprawled across his wide chest, listening to his heavy, even breaths. It would be nice to wake up every day, just like this. But you know if you suggest it, he’ll put you back at arm’s length. So you take what you can get.
You fall back asleep quickly, and wake a few hours later to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his socks on. The room is much brighter; definitely proper morning now. You stretch and yawn, brushing your fingertips along his hip, and he turns.
“Mornin’, sunshine. You headed back to the clinic?”
“Hmm,” you sigh, stretching. “Soon, yeah. Eat somethin’ and head over, let Sam go home.”
Joel nods and leans down, kisses you on your forehead, then your mouth. “I’ll see you later, then.”
You nod, and he goes. You listen for the door to close downstairs and sigh, stretching a kink out of your shoulder. You wonder idly after Cee, if Ezra made it another night, and decide to eat your toast with sunbutter on your walk across town.
When you get in, you're surprised and pleased to see Cee walking around the waiting area with a dressed and mussed Ezra, his arm slung across her shoulders for support.
“There’s my favorite patient,” you grin, praising his progress. You send Sam home and settle in to wait for anyone to come by. When you finally drop into the rolling chair behind the counter, Cee has sat him down in a wheelchair and parked him nearby. “How you feeling today?”
“I am upright and alive, soleil , neither of which is what I expected to be two days ago. I have already thanked Cee for her part in that, now I must thank you .” he squints one pretty dark eye, the other still puffy and swollen nearly shut, in an approximation of a smile and you can’t help smiling back.
“I told you no problem . You’re welcome . Leave it be,” you sigh, dragging out his chart. Sam had left notes for the overnight, and you verify them with him, mostly to test his memory. He is able to corroborate most of them, though he peers over at Cee twice when he can’t recall a detail.
After making sure he was settled again, Cee had gone back to their home and managed a nap, but a couple hours later he’s up and moving around again, under your watchful eye, and she's coming back up the walkway now. You wonder if she’ll go to the mess hall and bring back lunch. Biting your lip, you decide to try.
“Up for something more than broth today?” You ask Ezra, and he perks up.
“If my doctor says I am able , then I am eager for any rations, soleil .”
You give him a wide grin and a wink. “I can do better than rations , pretty boy. One sec.” he laughs as you hear Cee jingle into the waiting area and you call out to catch her before she takes her coat off.
“Cee! Would you mind getting us all some lunch, hon? Mess hall is across the road, there. Big building.”
She goes, somewhat shy but determined, and brings back wrapped sandwiches and containers of a thick, creamy soup, and herbal tea. Ezra’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the spread.
“My word. You are certain I didn't die?”
You snort, your teeth buried in your sandwich, and shake your head. “Nope. I know the food’s overwhelming at first. ‘specially coming from the road or the QZs.”
You advise him to eat slowly to make sure he can keep it down, and he struggles not to swallow it all whole, working to savor every bite. Having to scoop with his left hand slows him down a good bit. You match his pace, which he notices only after several minutes of waffling with the spoon.
“What are you reading there, soleil ?” He asks later, sleepy and full and on a fresh round of painkillers (though you're already weaning him off, he seems to have a low pain threshold).
You hum and turn your three- inch- thick paperback to face him. “Just a historical fiction I picked up. We have a little library, but if you don't give everything a chance, you’ll read through everything too fast,” you scoff. “I prefer the ribald romances and fantasy books, personally, but these are sometimes real gems.”
Ezra snorts and squints at the book. “ Parade’s End, ” he murmurs and frowns. “What’s it about?”
“One’s duty to society and family versus personal preference, really. It’s set during the first world war. The main character is an aristo in a loveless marriage because he and his wife constantly miscommunicate in an attempt to one-up the other. He falls in love with a young suffragette but won't let himself be with her. His wife has a few affairs and his name is sullied in high society by her jilted lover bouncing his check at the bank, so he goes to war to avoid her and the situation. When he comes home he realizes that he is trying to remain old fashioned in a world that is already changed, and living like that only serves to make him unhappy, so he decides to separate from his wife, but he won’t divorce her because of their son. He sends her to live at his family estate in wealth, but makes sure she is unhappy with it. And he lives happily in sin with his suffragette.”
Ezra grins at your summary and lolls his head back on the pillows. “Read some to me? I will probably fall asleep. But I'd appreciate it, chérie . I haven't been able to indulge in a tale in a very long time.”
You scoot the chair closer and prop your feet on the support racking under his gurney, and read in a measured, soothing voice, glancing up every so often to see your patient getting more and more sleepy. Finally, he nods off, and you watch him for a few moments. Cee is snoozing hard on the little couch, and otherwise the room is quiet aside from the susurrus of the space heater whirring, keeping out the freezing temps outside. You go back to your book, one ear trained for the door to jingle.
Three days later, at dusk, Joel appears on your porch to walk you to the clinic and Ellie to her friend Dina’s before he goes on patrol for the night shift. Ellie is by his side, rattling excitedly about a comic one of her school mates had let her read during free time that day. “And she has the last one too ! I’ll get the whole arc and don’t have to make it up myself!”
You catch him through your door’s glass pane as you put your coat on, watching her with that soft half smile on his face, and it makes your own appear.
Early the next morning, Ezra is ready to be sent home; he’s finally weaned fully off the morphine and onto regular pain management for the healing wound on his arm. His diaphragm sounds good, and you had removed the drainage ports in his stump overnight so he could sleep it off and you could monitor it closely until morning. You are putting on your coat, trading off shifts with Sam who just arrived, and giving Cee detailed instructions on how to care for him and the surgery site, what to do if common issues arise, and strict orders for no weight lifting and lots of water and rest.
Ellie’s on your clinic porch when you open the door and usher Ezra and Cee out into the cold. She stuffs her notebook back in her bag, jumps up, and waits by the stairs while you close up and finish talking to them.
“Hey Ellie,” you greet with a grin. Her and Cee eye one another speculatively and she comes to your other side, ready to walk you home. “This is Cee, and Ezra. They came in last week,” you introduce them. “Ellie is Joel’s kid,” you tell them, leaving it at that. You know Ezra and Cee are in a similar situation.
Ellie takes your elbow and you keep pace with Cee and Ezra, walking across as a clump to get dinner at the mess hall before taking them to their house. Cee and Ellie trade small, stilted words across the table, mostly opening up after they find out one another's explosive imagination and love for reading sci-fi.
You grin conspiratorially at Ezra over bowls of soup and he watches them with a fond smile, happy to see Cee coming out of her shell with another kid.
When you leave the mess hall, Ellie and Cee are still animatedly chatting, discovering a mutual love for a space series they had both read bits and pieces of. If one has a knowledge gap, the other can usually fill it, and together they piecemeal the series.
Ezra walks close to you, minding his footing with his precarious balance in the packed and somewhat slippery snow. “I am glad there are kids her age here. In the– hmm. Where we came from, most of her peers were sold off to the mines, or the girls were being abused. About the only useful thing her asshole daddy did was keep her from that. She hasn't had much peer interaction in a few years.”
You hum and nod. “Ellie’s warmed up a good bit. She’s probably a good one for Cee to latch onto, honestly. Her and her old man were just about feral when they got here.”
“ Feral ?” Ezra chuffs, carefully skirting a sheet of ice. You take his elbow and lead on.
“Hmm. Like a couple of cats being brought inside and shown love for the first time,” you grin. “They’d been on the road a long time, coming from Boston mostly on foot. Lots of trouble, being exposed like that. They didn't take kindly to a lot of intervention at first, but I think they came around well enough in the end. Joel’s doing well, Ellie's making friends. Giving folks safety and time makes them come around, usually.”
“Joel. He's come by, yes? The name is familiar, though I admit I haven't been terribly lucid in the last week.”
“Yeah, he was there the first night. I’m their neighbor; you’re actually across the street from us. You’ll see soon, we’re almost there.” (You don't say the rest- that you and Joel have been fucking and sleeping over and kissing and having weekly dinners with Ellie for nearly a year, but if anyone lays ownership he backs away, closes off, and it takes weeks for him to lower his hackles and come back around).
“He’s real handy, used to be a contractor, Before. If you need something done on the house, I suggest coming across and asking there first,” you add, nodding at your house and Joel's. You point them out, the brown of his and your own, next door. “Or his brother, Tommy. That's the guy that found you and Cee on patrol.”
Ezra makes an affirmative grunt and squints at the houses. “We are being watched , soleil ,” he chuckles, and you glance over to see a figure in the early morning fog, thrown into shadow by the light coming through the window behind him. Joel is back from his shift and is standing on his porch, watching you and Ellie walk the newcomers to their house.
“He’s a little overprotective,” you roll your eyes and nod.
“You and Cee are there,” you point across and angle the both of you toward the deep green two-story where the girls are leading.
Ezra’s mouth hangs open while he takes it in, just as baffled and overwhelmed as Cee was a few days ago. “This is all ours? Or do we share with another family?”
You smile, remembering Cee’s similar words a few days ago. “No, it’s yours and hers. We haven't had to start sharing homes yet; and we still have a whole road of empties, and most of Rancher Street is still empty, save for our occupied lots and the graves, so hopefully it will be a while . And hopefully if we’re that big, by then we can build more.”
Cee unlocks the door and you all file in. The girls keep talking and you watch Ezra poke around the space while you wait on Ellie. Eventually, you cock an eyebrow at her and she drops her chin.
“Uh, anyway. I’m across in the brown house if you want to read any of what I have. Just tell Joel you’re looking for me- he looks way meaner than he is. Promise,” she laughs, winking at you. You nod at Cee in agreement and she breaks into a smile. “I’m turning the garage into my room, so hopefully by the time the weather’s warm you can just come back there.”
“Okay.”
“And come get me next door to them if you need help with anything or are having complications. Otherwise I'm mostly at the clinic. If I don't see you in two days for a checkup, I'll come find you,” you level a finger at Ezra and he chuckles weakly.
“I am not in the habit of spurning women, soleil . I’ll see you then.”
You and Ellie leave, shutting the door firmly behind you, and she knocks her shoulder into yours.
“They’re both fuckin’ cute ,” she says slyly, and breaks into giggles when you roll your eyes at her.
“Don't you like Dina ?” you fake a retch and she bends to throw a handful of snow at your head.
“Fuck you dude! She’s banging that stupid boy anyway. Gonna end up in your clinic soon, I'm sure. Idiots. I backed off.”
“ Eew . Was he there last night?” You ask, side-eyeing her slumped shoulders.
“Ugh. Yeah.”
Ah , you think. Bingo . “ That's why you were there so early, making out like Joel sent you to walk me home. You were escaping ,” you poke her in the ribs and she breaks into a grin again, laughing.
“Yeah, I was. Sucks being the third wheel.”
“I agree,” you sigh, stopping at the gate to Joel’s yard. He is still on the porch and watches Ellie walk up. He asks her something quietly, then snaps his gaze back to you. He nods at her and she disappears into the house with a little wave. He comes down the stairs to the gate and frowns at the green house across the way.
“Got your patient settled in?”
You hum, not glancing back. He’s thrumming with some sort of energy- jealousy or territorial puffing- up, your gut says, and you make a concerted effort not to ask or frown back. “Yep, I think he’s made it past the worst of it. Ellie liked Cee a lot, seems like she might have a new friend. That’s always good. The new ones tend to struggle- you two know that as well as anyone else here.”
“She said you had to cut that guy’s arm off?”
You squint up at him and scowl. “I'm not discussing a patient with the likes of you, Miller. But you’ll see soon enough he is indeed missing an arm, and he wasn't when Tommy dragged him in.”
Joel blinks down at you, his frown deepening, before he realizes you're teasing him and it softens again.
“Jesus, girl.” He wraps a wide hand around the back of your neck and guides you to your door, boots scuffing in the crunchy snow.
“Somethin’ happen today?” You ask, unlocking your door. You kick your boots off but he stands on the welcome mat, dripping. Not staying, then. Maybe .
“Nah, just. One of the assholes on patrol said he looked like me.”
You scoff and shake your head. “Maybe severely malnourished and ten or more years younger, sure. Maybe in a different life, even. He’s your height and has dark hair and eyes, built like an upside-down pyramid. No doubt with some square meals he’ll be a brick shithouse like you,” you chuckle. “That's about it. He's from Louisiana, though. Your dad go ‘cross the border and start sowin’ seed in Cajun country when you were a kid?” You giggle, blocking a wide palm when he goes to grab you.
“You stayin’ for breakfast? I've had a soup on all night. could go get your kid.”
“Nah, I cooked. She’s prob’ly over there eatin’ more than her half,” Joel grimaces, looking at the wall like he can see through it into his house, into Ellie’s mind.
Your smile doesn't quite meet your eyes. It's like reopening the scarred wound in his side.
“Alright.”
Joel seems to take it as dismissal (or he was looking for a way to leave, even though he’s the one who came over), and dips his chin at you before ducking back outside and around the picket fence to his own house. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands and sigh.
Shower, food, bed. Check on your patients. Repeat.
You shuck your coat and beanie and go upstairs, eager to strip off and eat and crash. Bed sounds incredible, even without your preferred space heater of a… Friend . The good news is, with Ezra finally discharged, no one has to sit on- call at the clinic overnight. If someone needs you, they’ll come knocking.
You shower, dress in warm lounge clothes, eat your soup, box the rest for the week’s meals, and crash face-first into your bed within an hour of getting home.
_______________
Joel had already been home when you and Ellie went past, leading the newcomers to their allotted house. You had your elbow looped in the guy’s, Ellie and the girl were ahead, grinning and talking animatedly about something- probably a book, if he knew Ellie at all.
You had a serene smile on your face when looking at him , answering a question and carefully minding the paths in the snow for your patient, and Joel’s heart had clenched up tight. Some ugly part of him walled up, seeing both of you happy and at ease, with himself nowhere in the frame. He pressed his molars together and drew himself up, turning away so he didn't have to watch as you followed them inside their new home and shut the door.
Ellie had carefully and methodically (with all the untrained, blunt force of a hapless teenager) sanded down all the fractured edges he had over their trek across the country and back, and his increasing terror at the loss of control over himself or his situation was only doubling- down the closer he got to you . You’re another person to look out for, who would happily tie their fate to his own; your pain, his pain. Your happiness; his. Ellie has already pulled away from him, sensing his aversion to talking about Colorado and possibly seeing straight through his ocean of lies surrounding the trip, of their abrupt exit.
He isn't sure his heart can take another breach.
He stands in the doorway, his back to you and Ellie in Ezra’s house, and thinks about drawing back from you. Putting the walls up that you’ve come to expect every so often. But then he thinks of the disappointment he will see in your face when he does, and it hurts just as bad as the jealousy does. He tries to make himself not care, but he’s only fooling himself.
He doesn't even know if you like this new guy.
You could just actually be caring for a newly-disabled patient.
You could just pity the guy.
He’ll wait. But he’s not sleeping the day away in your bed. It's the weekend and Ellie is out of school and working on her latest project, moving into the garage and away from him. He’ll nap on the sofa in case she needs him to haul or build or fix something, and train his good ear on her while he tries to rest.
Overnight rounds were a bitch on his joints and back. He’d much rather lay in bed with you and leave Ellie to her own devices; not much trouble she could get in, in Jackson. But that somehow feels like crossing a line, so he stays back and away from it.
He’d rather pull back before you can have the chance.
He’s not sure his heart can take another failure.
-----------------------------🍄-------------------------
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musings-of-a-rose · 2 months
Text
Falling Slowly - Chapter 8
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Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 5700+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: I think this may be the penultimate chapter. I haven't decided if the last parts will make it into one longer chapter or 2. I also plan on doing some one shots later on. I think. Maybe. I just love these 2 so much!
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**Reader is not described
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I run. I run like I’ve never run before, throwing myself over the front steps and stumbling a little before colliding with him, Tommy, who pulls me so tight to his chest I might burst, my own arms scrambling to wrap around him. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, his face buried in my hair as I nuzzle into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. He pulls back just a bit, cupping my face in both hands as his eyes take me in, tears pouring from his down his freckled cheeks.
“Are you really here?” I whisper, my fingers tracing his jawline as my other hand grips his shirt, pulling him closer. 
He smiles, giving me that chuckle I missed so fucking much and warmth spreads through me. “I am. And you’re here. You’re here.”
He pulls me to him and our lips meet, a sensation I had begun to think I’d never feel again. My fingers twist in his soft curls, a little longer than when I’d seen him last, his fingers tightening on my jaw, like he was afraid to let go.
But then a small voice calls my name and I break the kiss just as Jax hops out of the car, running straight for us, his little arms outstretched. I drop to the ground, my arms out wide and pull him in, his fingers clutching the back of my shirt as he openly cries loudly. 
“Mommy! Where were you?”
I choke back a sob, tears flowing harder. “I know. I’m sorry, baby. But daddy got you, right?”
He nods against me. “And Uncle Joel, and Sarah, and Rose. But mommy…You scared me. I miss you so much.”
The sob pours from my mouth and Tommy drops to the ground with us, pulling us both to his chest as his own tears fall onto his little family, finally together again.
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“You were shot??” I look at Sarah, my mouth hanging open as she shrugs like it was nothing. 
“Yeah. It hurt like a bi-” she looks up at Joel who glares at her. “-I mean, it hurt a lot. But Rose was there. She saved my life.”
I look over at Rose, Joel pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head. “Holy shit, Rose! Well, I don’t…I don’t even know how to thank you.”
She waves her hand, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Oh don’t worry. It was my pleasure. Plus, I think Joel has found plenty of ways to thank me.” He bumps her with his hip and mumbles something about there being kids in the room. 
“Well, thank you anyway. Have you all gotten enough to eat?” I look around and everyone nods, Sarah taking another sip of water. 
“Alright. Well, let me tell you about the cabin.” I tell them what I’ve done while I’ve waited, all about the greenhouse and cellar, the fishing nets that I made following a book Joel had brought here about homesteading. I did manage to snare a few rabbits that were in the freezer. I also ran through a little checklist regarding the solar panels and the best time to take a shower with the most hot water. They all perked up when I said that. 
“You have hot water?” Sarah asked.
I nod, smiling. “Yeah. Fresh towels are already in the bathrooms and clean sheets are on the beds. The only clothes are the ones you’d left here last time, though.”
Sarah stands up, halfway to the staircase before she yells over her shoulder. “I don’t even care. I’d walk around naked if it meant I could have a hot shower!”
“Sarah Miller!” Joel yells and Sarah giggles, carefully walking up the stairs, the bathroom door closing a few moments later.
Joel and Rose disappear into their room, their shower turning on a few moments later and we give Jax a bath in ours, letting him play in the bubbles for a while so he can feel at least a little normal. Once he’s done, we dry him off and dress him in his pajamas, stretching his little arms and yawning big. 
“Oh wait! I almost forgot! Look who wanted to come along!” I reach into my backpack and pull out-
“Rabby!” Jax yells and tugs him from my hands, hugging him as tight as he could.
“Bless you for that,” Tommy smiles. “He’s been asking for him several times a day.”
“Well we couldn’t go to the cabin without Rabby!”
Jax looks up at me. “Mommy? Can I still sleep by Sarah?”
“Oh. You want to? You know you can sleep by us, right?”
Jax nods. “Yeah. But I want to make sure Sarah ok. She is better but still hurt sometimes. I like to help her.”
I kneel to his level, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re such a good caretaker, Jax. If that’s what you want, that’s fine. But-” I hold up my finger as he looks at me “-only if you promise we can cuddle for a long time tomorrow.”
He smiles and I swear he looks just like his dad. “Ok! I promise!” He throws his arms around me. “I love you, mommy.”
I hold him a little longer than normal, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too, bud.”
He gives Tommy a quick hug before throwing himself off the bed and running out of the door, only pausing a moment before sticking his head back in. “You tuck me in, mom?”
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Once Jax is tucked in, and Sarah is comfortable, I head back into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. The shower is on and I see Tommy’s clothes in the laundry basket, his pant leg hanging off the side. Smiling, I tuck it into the basket and shed my own clothes, adding them to his pile before quietly opening the bathroom door. The room is a little steamy and I can just make out his dark hair behind the glass shower door panel. Quietly, I pop open the door, getting a clear view of his whole backside, my eyes lingering on his strong shoulders and round ass before I lean forward and pinch it, a yelp from him echoing across the bathroom as he spins on me. 
“Not fair!”
“How did I sneak up on you, Mr. Desert Storm?”
He pulls me in as I close the door behind me, pressing my body against his. He pushes my hair back from my face as the water soaks us, cradling my face. 
“Did you? Or did I let you sneak up on me just to feel your hand on my ass?”
I look fake shocked, slapping him on the shoulder. “Mr. Miller! Do you take me for some cheap date?”
He smiles, leaning in to kiss me, our lips barely touching. “Definitely not. You were expensive.”
He presses my back into the wall, capturing my lips with his before I can reply, one hand cradling my face and the other sliding down the side of my body to rest on my hip. His nose brushes mine when he changes angles, sucking my bottom lip in to take a nip. I can feel him hardening, but then the water starts to cool and I suddenly remember where we are.
“Tommy,” I breathe out, his lips trailing down my neck.
“Mmm?”
“We have to turn off the water. With all the showers, we can’t use that much hot water. The generator won’t last.”
He lets out a huff, kissing me briefly before turning off the water. He opens the shower door and steps out, turning to offer his hand to me. I take it, carefully stepping out on the bathmat, my skin pimpling as the cooler air hits it. Tommy reaches for our towels, holding mine out to me, but I don’t take it. Instead, I take his, moving close to him to dry him off. I start with his face, his beautiful face sprinkled with those freckles I love so damn much, his dark eyes on me. I run the towel over his hair a couple of times, opting to let it air dry as his curls always look so bouncy when he does that.
And then I move down, drying off his broad shoulders, down his arms, moving to his sides, pressing kisses to his chest after I’ve dried it off. I stare up at him innocently as I gently press the towel between his legs, using my other hand to secure his erection while I dry him off, his lips parting to puff out air onto my face. Holding his gaze, I drop to my knees, drying off his legs. My tongue darts out and I give him a lick, a small  “Fuck,” grunted out from above. But then he’s pulling me up, pressing his lips to mine. I drop the towel, my arms wrapping around his neck, fingers winding into his wet curls. He breaks the kiss with a quiet moan, holding up the towel still clutched in his hand.
He says nothing, drying my face, planting a kiss on my nose. I giggle and steal a quick kiss, loving the smile I get in return. He moves on to my hair, wringing out the excess water before moving down to my chest. He gently grazes the soft towel over my nipples, my breathing picks up, feeling him slide his hand under the towel to squeeze my other nipple. Then he starts to move down my stomach, reaching the towel between my legs. He grips my chin with his other hand, making me look up at him as he moves the towel slowly over my cunt, sliding his finger down me, the towel pressed between us. It feels so good but I just want to feel him, his skin. But then he presses a finger to my clit and I gasp, his grip on my chin tightening slightly to hold my gaze. His nose brushes mine as he swirls around me, gliding his nose across my skin. He pulls back enough to look at me, his pupils blown wide with lust. 
He drops the towel, gripping my thighs and lifts me, my legs coming up to wrap around him as he pushes open the bathroom door. He kisses me, lips and tongue pressing into mine as he walks me over to the bed, gently laying me down as he hovers over me, settling himself between my legs. He lifts his head slightly, his eyes scanning my face, a soft look in them as he takes me in. He gently brushes some hair from my face before he slowly pushes inside of me, my mouth opening in a silent moan. He’s always stretched me, pushed me to my limits but tonight it’s different. I never thought I’d see him again, feel him again, have him split me open and pull me back together, the love surging between us. 
But he’s here, sliding into place and reaching spots only he ever has. His eyes are still on my face, a smile gently tugging at the corners of his mouth as he slowly pulls out and back in, watching me writhe and moan under him. His lips softly press to mine before starting a path down my jaw, gliding over to my neck, and sucking on that spot that leaves me breathless, gasping his name as he rolls his hips into me, an extra hard and slow thrust when he’s already buried deep. My nails dig into the skin on his back, trying to ground myself here, tell him I want to stay here forever, the warmth between my thighs quickly heating. His lips still on my neck, his hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together as he presses my hand into the bed, slightly above and to the side of my head. His other hand slides down my body, tracing a circular pattern in my skin before grabbing my leg, hooking it over his hip as he adds another deep thrust. My body tenses, standing on the edge as he pulls out, his head lifting from my neck to watch my face, pushing in and thrusting hard and deep. I break, unable to stop the stream of whines coming from me, his name a whisper on my lips, a chant, a prayer as he works me through it, my body like a live wire. My breathing levels out, I feel my lips curling into a smile when my eyes find his, his brow pulled together in concentration, like he was waiting for me. I cup his face and meet his gaze, his hips picking up slightly in speed as he thrusts into me a few more times, his mouth opening, head pushing back as he whines, little whimpers as he spills inside of me, his neck straining with the force of his release. Fuck he’s so beautiful when he comes, a sight I will never tire of. 
He drops his forehead to mine, both of us breathing together for several minutes. I trace patterns on his back, scratching lightly, loving the feel of him on and in me. But eventually, Tommy sits up, pulling out of me with a hiss and a groan before cleaning us both up. He comes back to bed, completely naked, and slides in next to me, pulling me to his chest, but not before kissing me, his nose sliding against mine. 
“I love you so much, Tommy.”
“Not as much as I love you, darlin’.”
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I wake to sound of little feet running up and down the hallway, Sarah’s voice trailing after him as she follows him downstairs. I hear noise from the kitchen and I know they’re grabbing some cereal, Jax thinking he’s being sneaky about it.
I turn my head, my eyes landing on my husband’s sleeping face and for several long moments, I just watch him. The way the dim light from the lamp hits his face, the freckles sprinkles across his cheeks and nose, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps. His lips are slightly parted, small breaths puffing out from between them and I just…how is he this gorgeous? This handsome? How did I get this lucky? Not just in meeting him and being his friend and eventually starting our family but for him and our son to have survived whatever the fuck was happening? Everything goes to shit but I get to keep my little family.
I reach out to push back a stray curl from his face, sighing as I watch him a little longer. Leaning forward, I press light kisses to his face and his nose, Tommy starting to stir from the attention. He blinks awake, looking around worried for a moment before his eyes land on mine, his dark ones momentarily robbing me of my breath. He reaches out and cups my face, rubbing his thumb along my cheek.
“You’re real?” His voice is laced with sleep, but his eyebrows pull together like he’s worried I’ll fade away. I put my hand over his and squeeze, smiling back at him. 
“I’m real. Are you?”
He pulls me to him, our lips gently meeting as he holds me, his tongue slipping easily into my eager mouth, moaning when I wrap my leg around his waist. 
“Mrs. Miller, I do believe you’re naked,” he smiles into my lips.
“You know, I think you’re right.”
He rolls me onto my back and I giggle as he nips at my neck. “You should really put clothes on, darlin’. Someone might take advantage.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
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“Mommy! Daddy is showing me fishing!” Jax clings to his tiny fishing pole that we had bought him the last time we were here, stashing it as a surprise for Joel’s weekend birthday trip that didn’t turn out the way we planned.
“Will you catch us some dinner?” I ask him, kneeling to his level to straighten his jacket.
He nods furiously. “I will, mommy!”
Tommy walks in the kitchen behind Jax, another pole clutched in his hand, Sarah following close behind carrying a tackle box. 
“If Joel wants to join us, we’ll be down at the lake catching dinner.”
“You didn’t let him know you were going?”
He drops his voice so only we could hear, Sarah moving to show Jax the tackle box. “Not with the sounds I could hear coming from their room.”
“Gotcha. Well if you bring home dinner, maybe we could give them some competition.” 
His eyes darken and he shifts the things he’s holding to pull me in close. “That’s a deal.” He kisses me and Jax giggles, holding up a fake wiggling worm.
A couple hours goes by before Rose comes down to the kitchen to get some water from the fridge. She looks at me and shifts herself, trying to hide the marks on her neck. I smirk and offer her a high five, which she takes. “Get it, girl.”
She goes back upstairs and I finish putting together the picnic basket, heading out back to walk the small path through the trees down to the lake. I can hear Jax’s laughter before I see them, ringing through the trees. At the end of the path I stop, watching them sit at the edge of the water, the dock not having been fully completed yet. Tommy is holding up a real wiggling worm and Jax is absolutely fascinated by the fact that Sarah wants nothing to do with the real worm, laughing whenever she jumps when the worm gets too close. 
“It’s just a worm, Sarah!” Jax manages to get out between giggles.
“It’s too wriggly!” She squeals as Tommy turns towards her, Jax erupting into another fit of giggles. But when they turn to the water, I see Sarah reach into the bucket and take out a real worm of her own, quickly hooking it on the end of her pole and moving to her place to cast. I really love this kid.
Tommy kneels next to Jax, holding his little arms and telling him what to do, how to pull the pole back and when to release, the little Mickey Mouse pole looking so small in his hands. Which puts a whole other series of images in my head of exactly how large those hands are. I let them be for another minute before walking up to them.
“Lunch time!”
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That winter brought us some snow, of which Jax was thrilled. Fortunately, we had stashed some winter coats and gear here the first time we’d come and they still fit. Mostly. Jax would definitely need a new one. 
When spring finally came, Jax started begging both Tommy and Joel to finish the deck so they could go out fishing. Sarah joined in the begging simply because she wanted to jump off the deck and do backflips into the lake. Whatever they said worked because one day, about a week later, Tommy and Joel came downstairs dressed in jeans and loose fitting shirts. Joel moved around the kitchen island to the fridge, talking shop to Tommy who stopped behind the barstool I was sitting on, placing one hand on either side of me on the counter, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of my head, his chest pressed against my back.
“Shit, I forgot something,” Joel grumbles as he stomps off towards the garage, the sounds of clanking quieting when the door closes behind him. 
Tommy’s hand leaves the counter, wrapping around me and holding me to him, while his other hand snakes down the front of my shirt, grabbing one of my boobs. 
“Sir. There are children in the house.” He pinches my nipple in response and I gasp. 
“They’re already outside,” he speaks low in my ear, his nose nudging my hair aside as he kisses at my neck.
“Get a room,” Joel grunts out as he comes back in, noticing Tommy’s hand down my shirt. 
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go, Daisy.”
“Not until you’re done with the deck, asshole,” Joel chuckles, grabbing the box of tools and heading towards the door. 
Tommy groans as he removes his hand from my shirt. “Guess that’s my cue. I’d much rather hammer your deck,” His eyes are twinkling and I would beg him to take me here if it wasn’t for the kids running around just past the windows.
“You build that deck and we can do whatever you want.”
“You’re a menace, Mrs. Miller.” He kisses me and then heads outside, meeting up with Joel as Jax and Sarah chase after them. 
A short bit later, Rose comes downstairs wearing one of Joel’s shirts, a slight limp to her walk. She gets a glass of water and stands across from me at the kitchen island, taking several gulps before putting the glass down and wiping her lips. 
“Good night?” I smirk.
She flushes but nods. “You could say that.”
“You wanna go oggle our men while they build shit?”
“Hell yes.”
So Rose and I make a little cooler with drinks for everyone and some snacks for the kids and head outside, Rose grabbing a few folding chairs and an umbrella on the way. We get to the water and set everything up, chairs opened, cooler between us, and drinks in hand as we sit on the chairs, watching Tommy and Joel converse and gesture between some of the poles submerged in the water. On the first run of spring, they managed to score some wading gear so they had on these ridiculous looking pants with boots, but at least it was keeping them dry. 
Rose and I, however, were definitely not dry.
Tommy and Joel stopped for a moment to wipe their brows and then decided to shed their shirts, tossing them towards Jax who eagerly tried to catch them and put them on the ground. My eyes roamed my husband’s body, his olive skin glistening with sweat and water, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Then he reaches for a tool of some kind, which I couldn’t care less about, but fuck do his muscles move under it, bending and twisting with his movement and I push my legs together quickly, catching Tommy smirking when he caught a glimpse of me watching him.
“Do…do you think it could be uh, movie night? For the kids? Tonight?” Rose speaks to me but her eyes are glued to Joel. 
“Movie night?” Mine are still on Tommy, who is now trying to torture me by stretching his arms above his head. 
“Y-yeah. Might be a good…”
“A good…what?”
“Huh?”
“Movie night?”
“Oh right. Um a good…distraction. For the kids.”
“Oh, that sounds good. Let’s make it kids only so it’s special for them.”
“How ever will we pass the time?”
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2 years later…
“And this one is yarrow. Good for fevers. The harvest is actually looking pretty good this year.” Rose fusses over several groups of small flowers, some white and some yellow, mumbling to herself as she does. 
“Are they ready to pick?” Sarah asks curiously.
“I believe so. Here, let me show you both how.”
Shortly after they arrived, Rose asked me if she could have some space in the greenhouse to grow some herbs and plants for holistic medicine, to which I enthusiastically agreed. She spent the better part of the year foraging what she could, or showing Joel and Tommy what they looked like in that book of herbalism she had left in the cabin so they could keep an eye out for it when they go on runs. They never go far or often, but every once in a while we need something that we can’t produce ourselves. And now Rose has taken to showing Sarah and I exactly how to grow, harvest, and dry the plants, as well as what they’re used for and how to use them. When I had asked her why a surgeon cared about holistic medicine, she shrugged and said “It works.”
Sarah followed her around asking a ton of questions and I gave them their space. I listened, taking mental notes and actual ones, but honestly, I love how close Sarah and Rose had gotten. Almost like a mother and daughter. Which makes sense, now that Joel and Rose had gotten married. Or as close as married we can get.
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2 years later…
“Where are you taking me?” I stumble again and Tommy grabs me, helping me step over a root I had tripped over. 
“Not much further.”
“Jax will wonder where we’ve gone.”
“He’s 7 now. He’ll be fine. Besides, he was in on it.”
“You teamed up?”
“Yup.”
“Traitors.”
Tommy chuckles. “We’ll see.”
We walk for what feels like miles, but really is probably only about a half mile from the main cabin. Tommy stops walking and grabs my shoulders, walking around to stand behind me. 
“Ready?”
I nod and he unties the blindfold. I blink rapidly a few times, adjusting to the light but when I finally can focus, I see a campsite. A little 2 bedroom tent has been set up, a small campfire that’s already going with a hanging little cauldron above it that has the most amazing smell coming from it, 2 camping chairs with a cooler between them, and a blanket spread on the ground. There’s a small slope down the hill and we can see the water from the campsite and, assuming I have my position correct, we will be able to have a gorgeous view of the sunset. 
“Tommy, this is…I don’t know what to say!”
He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me into his chest, kissing the side of my head. “So you like it?”
“Like it? This is gorgeous Tommy! I - how long have you been planning this?”
He chuckles next to my ear, sending goosebumps down that side of my body. “A while. I found a calendar and did a little math and figured out our wedding anniversary is sometime around now. And we never really got to celebrate it since…well, since.”
Since the outbreak.
I turn in his arms, slipping my fingers through a couple of his belt loops and hold him to me, my eyes meeting his. “I love you, Tommy. So much. This is…this is amazing.”
“I love you too, darlin’.”
He leans down to kiss me, sliding his tongue into my willing mouth almost immediately. We make out for a moment before I place my hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly. 
“I have to ask - what’s in the cauldron?”
He smiles and I swear it gets lighter. “My famous vegetable soup!”
My eyes open wide. “No way. Really? You found everything?”
He nods. “Yeah. I’ve been lookin’ for some stuff when we go on runs. We have most everything else here. I know how much you love it so I thought I’d save that surprise for this special occasion.”
“How long until it’s ready?”
“Hhm..let me check.” He lets go of me and stands by the cauldron, grabbing the mitt to move it off the fire so he can look inside, mixing it a little with a big spoon. “Looks ready now. You hungry?”
“Fuck yeah.”
The soup was delicious, even with a couple of missing ingredients, the perfect thing to warm us up. It’s not super cold but it will be once the sun starts to set. Tommy had even baked some bread without me knowing and damn this man can bake too. Once we’re finished, he walks the dishes down to the lake and rinses them in the water since we won’t need them anymore and tucks them in a bag. When he’s done, he walks up to me and extends his hand to me.
“Come watch the sunset with me?”
“I’d love to.” I take his hand and he pulls me up, walking me over to the blanket he had spread out with a clear view of the setting sun. He sits, kicking off his boots as he does, and beckons me to him as he reaches for a thick blanket. I kick off my boots and sit next to him, tucking myself into his side as he covers us with the blanket and wraps his arm around my shoulder. For a bit, we just sit and watch the sun set, the wind lightly blowing through the trees, the animals doing their nighttime routine. It’s peaceful. One can almost forget about…everything. As the sun sinks behind the line of trees, Tommy turns to me, hooking his finger under my chin to turn my head up to him.  
“I love you, Daisy.”
“I love you, Tommy.”
He kisses me, soft at first but as his tongue slips in, his need grows, adding to the fire that’s rising in my belly. He lays me back, slotting himself above me and settles between my open legs. His lips kiss a path down my neck and find that spot behind my ear that makes me whine his name. I feel him grinding against me as I try to wrap my legs around him, but he grabs my thigh, preventing me from doing it. He slides down my body, eyes looking up at me until he reaches my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans with practiced ease, quickly hooking his fingers into my belt loops and pulling down, bringing my panties with them. I lift my hips to help, thankful I’d already kicked my boots off as Tommy shimmies my pants down and off, exposing me to the cool air as he sets them down on the blanket. He looks up at me, a smirk sliding into place.
“You can be as loud as you want to, darlin’.”
And before I can say anything, he pushes my legs apart, holding them with his broad shoulders, dipping his head between my legs, nibbling at my inner thigh while lightly tracing around where I want him desperately to be. He teases me for several moments, chuckling when my please grow louder before finally giving in, sliding his tongue around me, in me, sucking, nipping, licking, and moaning into me as I come, his name tumbling from my lips as my thighs try to close but remain in place by his broad shoulders. My fingers twist in his curls and I hold him to me, Tommy dragging out my orgasm by pulling another almost immediately. My fingers relax in his hair and he lifts his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, his grin wide and bright.
“Feel good, darlin’?”
I nod, finally catching my breath. “I’ll feel even better when you’re inside me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He helps me take off my top, shedding his own clothes as well before grabbing my wrists, pinning them above me as he pushes in, a soft “fuck” coming from him as he settles, my body forming to his. His hips are slow and methodic, pushing deep inside of me, pulling a leg over his hip to get even closer, deeper, pushing at the back of me as I writhe under him, moaning and gasping when he hits a spot just right. His hips snap, hitting that same spot hard and faster and my body tenses, my release pushing from every part of me as I come, screaming his name for the world to hear, begging him for more when I come down, more closeness, more him. And he obliges, pulling out and flipping me over, his fingers digging into my hips as I push them back, my release making it easy for him to push in quickly, setting a rapid pace that hits me at new angles. He grunts and whimpers, his hips slamming into me before pulling me up to his chest, my hands gripping his forearm wrapped around me as we both come, breathing heavy and smiling when we come down. 
We don’t bother getting dressed as we head in the tent, setting our clothes off to the side as we crawl into a double sleeping bag that Tommy had picked up on one of their runs. He wraps himself around me and I push into him, cuddling for a while before we make good use of that sleeping bag.
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1 year later…
“Perfect kick, Jax!” Sarah yells to him as she stops the soccer ball with her foot, Jax fist pumping the air with excitement. 
“I’ve been practicing!”
“And it shows! Let’s go again.”
Sarah had been showing Jax how to play soccer, officially, as she says, for the better part of a year. As best as she can without an entire team, but Jax takes it seriously, wanting to impress his cousin with his maneuvers.
Rose and I are sitting on the back patio, taking a short break from gardening to watch the kids. I take another sip of the delicious lemonade Rose had made with the lemons we had grown in the greenhouse. It’s not as sweet as I’d like it to be, but it’s a delicious treat. I’m laughing at a story she’s telling me when the sliding door rips open and Joel’s voice booms out. 
“Everyone inside. Now.”
There’s an edge to it, one I don’t like. This isn’t a drill and the kids sense it too, immediately stopping and running into the house, Joel closing and locking the door behind us, the shutters already closing. 
“Joel?” Rose questions but he shakes his head. 
“Get into your spots.”
“Which spots?”
Tommy walks up, handing Joel 2 guns from the back room, handing another to me, his eyes large and worried.
“The ones for raiders.”
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mariatesstruther · 8 months
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tbh cant stand when theres a fic in which someone in jackson says or does some outrageous shit to ellie and then maria has to be one thats like “lets not be rash, don’t retaliate, dont be unreasonable joel” because like yes shes on the council but, at least to me, the idea that she wouldn’t be pissed and feel immediately called to action by someone mistreating her niece is almost laughable. between her and tommy she’s definitely the more intimidating and serious one; we know from her entire first few scenes that she also has the ability to be incredibly intimidating
so do yall really think that upon hearing that someone’s messing with her niece, maria would do anything else but help joel handle business???? those two would be so mf terrifying
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sixhours · 2 months
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Chapter 26 - The Ghosts of Babylon
Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete
Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3
~*~
Jackson, Wyoming November 2026
“That’s great, Maria, you’re doing great. One more big push…”
“C’mon, baby,” you hear Tommy say from the head of the bed, where he’s holding Maria’s hand. “Hear that? You’re doin’ so good.”
“Fuck you, Tommy,” she spits, and you’re glad your mask hides your smile. It’s been a long night.
“I know you don’t mean that sugar,” he says.
Maria makes a feral growl as you press on her perineum, trying to ease the baby’s head out without tearing. Then she lets out a roar and bears down hard.
“Keep going, that’s it,” you murmur. Your hands are slippery around the crown of the baby’s head as it slowly emerges. You stabilize the neck and check for the cord; it’s clear. “Head’s out, one more push.”
The baby’s shoulders ease into your hands, and the rest follows, slick and covered in vernix, tiny arms flailing. A girl. You rub her back firmly, encouraging her to breathe, and she lets out an angry wail in response. Her skin warms under your touch, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. This was an easy one.
“That’s my girl!” Tommy whoops over Maria’s tired panting as you lift the baby and place her on her mother’s abdomen. You cover the baby with a warmed blanket, encouraging Maria to keep rubbing her tiny back while Tommy cuts the cord.
~*~
You leave the Miller house once Maria and the baby are settled in, with promises to relay the good news. You walk to the end of the cul-de-sac in the faint gray glow of a late fall morning, wincing at the twinge in your ankle. You still walk with a limp. On cold days like this, you’d prefer the stability of your cane, but it’s back at the clinic.
Joel’s living room is littered with toys, board books, and an upturned sippy cup. There are sticky fingerprints on the coffee table and remnants of what looks like oatmeal in the sink.
Joel himself looks just as ragged as the house, lying flat on the couch with Gwen on his chest, both of them sound asleep.
You kneel next to them, planting a kiss on his forehead, gently stroking the toddler’s dark brown curls. “Hey, sleepyheads.”
Joel’s eyes blink open slowly.
“You have a niece,” you whisper into his hair. 
“Mmm,” he growls softly, rubbing Gwen’s back. “She wouldn’t sleep in the damn crib. Told Tommy he’s spoilin’ her.”
You smirk. “As if you wouldn’t do the same. And you have another niece.”
“Huh? Ohhh,” he says, grinning sleepily. “Hear that kid? You’ve got a little sister.”
Gwen doesn’t stir, unbothered by this new development for the time being. Joel’s eyes drift shut as he asks, “How’d it go?”
“Maria’s fine, baby’s fine…Tommy’s ecstatic.”
“Millers make good girls,” he murmurs. 
“Mmm. Ellie asleep?”
“At a friend’s. Thought she was gonna help me with this one,” he looks down at Gwen, “but she bailed on me.”
“Looks like you managed…barely,” you say, eyeing the room. It’s amazing how much damage one toddler can do in the span of a few hours. “You should get up,” you say, standing, nodding at the couch. “Your back is going to feel that.”
He shifts, sitting up with a muted groan. Gwen makes a soft whining sound at the disturbance, and he shushes her as he gets to his feet, gently rocking until she’s settled.
You follow them upstairs to his bedroom where the portable crib is set up in the corner. Joel nuzzles the crown of Gwen’s head before gently laying her on her tummy. She fusses a little, but his large hand rests across her back, rubbing up and down until she’s soothed back to sleep.
“Like defusing a damn bomb,” he mutters when he sees you watching, but his eyes are soft. He stands, stretching, wincing. You’re right; his back is going to feel it.
You take a shower in the bathroom down the hall so you don’t wake the baby, throwing one of Joel’s old tees on as a nightshirt before tiptoeing back to the bedroom. Joel is already under the covers. You slide in behind him, wrapping an arm around his torso, hand coming up to rest on his broad, naked chest.
“Mmm,” he rumbles, reaching behind you, giving your ass a light squeeze. “Missed you.”
“I have to be at the clinic in two hours,” you yawn, already drifting.
“I can do a lot in two hours,” he says, muffled by the pillow.
You smile, nuzzling against his back. “Not with the kid here, Miller. Go back to sleep.”
~*~
Your reentry was as smooth as it could be under the circumstances.
You were separated from Joel and debriefed for three days. It was not the relaxed process that welcomed you to Jackson the first time, but they didn’t kick you out on your ass, at least. You were reaccepted under probationary terms, to be guarded for six months and prohibited from working in the clinic without Eric or a nurse at your side.
You were allowed to keep your house, but it had been swept of all but the essentials–even the previous owner’s junk had been cleaned out of the attic, along with the radio. You were assigned a roommate who slept in the spare bedroom and made regular reports to the council.
The restrictions drudged up your shame, a thick cloak weighing heavy on your shoulders. You reminded yourself it was fair and temporary, and tried to focus on your work, but more than once you found yourself unable to get out of bed. On the worst days, Joel somehow found his way to your side–sometimes with Ellie and a movie, always with food–and gave you a reason to try to keep going.
Jackson had not fallen to FEDRA, but things had changed in the time you’d been gone. Throughout your probation, you learned FEDRA had sent swarms of infected to Wyoming, but the town was ready to defend itself. It turns out there were more former Fireflies in the community than you’d guessed–including Theresa and Tommy. And while they weren’t actively looking for trouble, they had connections that made it easier to stockpile weapons of the explosive variety. So that’s what they’d done, secretly hoarded enough firepower to take out a small city, enough to leave blackened trenches of undead and FEDRA soldiers in wide swaths of the surrounding countryside.
They’d taken the information you gave them and sent patrols to take out as many of FEDRA’s outposts as they could reach and put a couple of workers on round-the-clock radio monitoring. They also stopped accepting newcomers, blaming the change on the increased presence of infected outside the walls, but you secretly wondered if it was to keep out more people like you.
There had been losses, too. Half a dozen citizens had fallen to the infected during the weeks and months you were gone, a heartbreaking record. Jackson’s sense of safety was shaken, and it was obvious in the drawn looks on people’s faces, the haggardness in their eyes.
You still couldn’t help but blame yourself, even though you understood intellectually it was a thing that was bound to happen. They had gone soft in a world that had no use for gentleness; careless, almost reckless in their belief that isolation would protect them forever.
But the walls still stood, and its citizens moved about within them, and you made yourself a home again, even if you didn’t always feel like you deserved it.
~*~
You blink awake in Joel’s bed, fuzzy and dry-mouthed and strangely…rested. The sun is high in the sky and blazing through the bedroom’s big windows, which can only mean one thing.
Shit.
You bolt upright, looking at the clock; you should have been at work hours ago. You groan, grabbing the walkie from the bedside table and pressing the button to talk.
“Eric, you there?”
“Mornin’, sleeping beauty. Or, I guess it’s afternoon…”
A rich Texan accent, definitely not Eric’s. You feel a deep blush creeping up your neck.
“Christ, Miller, the whole town can hear you,” you mutter into the mic. “Get off the comms.”
A warm, honeyed chuckle through the speakers. “We’re at Tommy’s. Come over when you’re decent. Out.”
Dick, you think, but your lips curl in a smile.
Eric’s voice warbles in your ear a few seconds later. “I’ve got a handle on things over here. See you first thing tomorrow. Out.”
You dress, throwing on some of the clothes you’ve started keeping at Joel’s place for days like this. Downstairs, the house has been pieced back together, an overflowing basket of toys and books pushed to one side of the room, dishes drying next to the sink. Joel must have the day off, a special dispensation to welcome the new family member.
You flush a little when you realize you have the day off, too.
Tommy and Maria’s place is just across the street. You let yourself in and hear conversation upstairs, Ellie’s wry little cackle.
“It’s just me,” you call up the stairs.
“C’mon up!”
They’re all crowded in the bedroom, Maria sitting up against the headboard with little Gwen’s arms wrapped tightly around her neck, Tommy perched next to her on the edge of the bed.
“Hey, mom. How are we feeling?”
You can’t help it; you slip into doctor mode, eying her complexion, barely resisting the urge to reach out and feel her forehead for a temperature, alert for signs of postpartum infection.
“We’re good,” she murmurs, rubbing Gwen’s back. “Someone’s feeling a little clingy.”
“Yeah, it’s Joel,” Ellie chirps from the other side of the room. “He’s hogging the baby.”
Maria smiles up at you wryly and shrugs.
“How’s the bleedi–”
“You’re off duty, doc,” she says immediately, shooting you a look that says she won’t be discussing the state of her uterus with her brother-in-law in the room.
The brother-in-law in question is sitting in the rocker-glider holding the new addition. Ellie is perched on the arm of the chair next to him, poking at the baby’s tiny fist with her finger.
“Right, off duty,” you murmur, suddenly feeling out of place. Joel nudges an ottoman toward you with his foot.
“Come meet the new kid,” he says.
“Oh, we’ve met,” you say, taking a seat. “ Someone kept us up all night.”
Joel holds the newborn’s head in his cupped palms, her body cradled along the length of his forearms. She barely reaches his elbows this way, tiny legs and arms scrunched up like a frog’s. One little fist curls itself against her mouth, while the other wraps itself around Ellie’s index finger and holds tight.
“My turn, old man,” Ellie says, holding out her hands for the infant. Joel places the baby in her arms, muttering something about supporting her head, and Ellie sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
His eyes soften as he watches his daughter.
“I forgot how small they are,” she says after a time, looking over at Gwen, who is babbling animatedly about something to her mom and dad.
“They grow fast,” Joel says. One big thumb reaches out to stroke the tiny shell of an ear, and for a moment, the new baby’s dark gray eyes blink open.
“There she is,” he whispers, and the smile on his face is so tender, it hurts. You wonder if he’s thinking of Sarah, and then you know he is because his eyes are shining.
“Not this again,” Ellie says good-naturedly, leaning in to prop her chin on Joel’s shoulder. “You’re such a fuckin’ sap.”
“Fuh-kinsap?” Gwen’s little voice pipes up.
“Ellie!” three voices sound in unison as the girl’s eyes widen. There’s a stunned silence, then the room bursts into laughter, startling the new baby with the noise. She lets out a breathy wail to complain, little limbs flailing, and Gwen, still attached to her mother like a barnacle, starts whimpering in sympathy.
You stand, quietly relieved to have a good reason to break up the party. “Let’s clear out. Mom and baby need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”
~*~
When the rest of the family has cleared the room, Tommy with Gwen and Joel with Ellie, you’re alone with Maria and the baby at her breast. She sags a bit, drawing into herself as she encourages the newborn to suckle. You busy yourself with taking vitals, fetching a glass of water, and sending a quiet message over the walkie letting the nurse on duty know she doesn’t have to check in this afternoon.
“Is she latching okay?” you ask, unwrapping the blood pressure cuff from Maria’s upper arm, taking notes on a pad of paper next to the bed.
“Yes.”
“Have you been able to urinate?”
“Yes.”
“Any cramping?”
“Yes,” Maria winces, rubbing at her lower abdomen.
“How about the bleeding? It might be heavy, but anything more than a pad every two hours and you need to–”
You stop when you glance up and find Maria looking at you with tired eyes, wan and half asleep.
“Sorry,” you breathe, smiling a little. “Force of habit. I know you’ve done this before.”
“It’s okay,” Maria says softly. “It’s different every time.” 
You take a seat next to the bed. “So…how are you feeling?” 
She meets your eyes, sizing you up before giving a tired sigh. “A little overwhelmed, to tell you the truth. Gwen is still so young…this one was a surprise.”
“Ahh.” There have been several “surprises” in Jackson since you returned, although you’re treating fewer pregnancies now. You take a small measure of pride in that. “Well, we can help prevent future surprises, if you want.”
“I know. I’ll take you up on that.”
“Does she have a name?”
“Not yet,” Maria says, gently tracing the little girl’s nose with one finger. “Tommy wants to…talk to Joel.”
“Oh?” You cock your head. Then as it dawns on you, “ Oh. ”
“For a middle name,” she clarifies. The baby has fallen asleep; Maria lifts her to her shoulder and rubs her back, watching as if searching for a clue in her tiny face. “But we’re thinking…maybe Isabel.”
Isabel Sarah Miller.
“That’s beautiful,” you murmur.
“Hmm,” Maria says, then yawns.
You take the hint. “I’ll let you get some rest. We’ll send a nurse over later tonight, but I have the walkie. Have Tommy call if you need anything.”
~*~
Downstairs, you peek into the living room and find Tommy sprawled on the couch, snoring, with Gwen sleeping on top of him, the spitting image of his older brother only a few hours ago.
You slowly back out of the room and make your way down the hall to the kitchen, following the sounds of running water, soft conversation, and the clink of dishes. Joel and Ellie are standing at the sink; he washes, she dries, and they’re laughing at something.
You watch their comfortable way with each other. You wonder if she’s forgiven him; you wonder if he’s forgiven himself. And you think maybe, maybe , because things seem easier, if not easy, between them.
Her nightmares are less frequent, and you know she and Joel have talked about turning the garage into a separate bedroom to give her more privacy. She’ll be 17 soon, and he’s getting better at letting her go.
Whether you can forgive yourself…that’s still an open question with fangs and claws. You wonder if you will ever feel like you fit here–in Jackson, with Joel and Ellie, with their family.
As if hearing your thoughts, Joel looks over his shoulder and sees you. “Hey, everything alright?”
“All good. Need help?”
“We’re almost done. There’s food in the fridge if you wanna put something in.”
You open the refrigerator to a rainbow of casserole dishes covered in foil; the community obviously rallied. The Millers won’t need to leave the house to eat for a month.
You pick out a square pan with what looks like lasagna and set it aside for dinner, then begin pulling out the rest of the dishes, investigating their contents, and roughly planning a schedule of meals. There’s too much food, but some can be frozen for later.
Too much food. What a concept.
When the lasagna is baking in the oven and Joel is wiping out the sink, Ellie says, “Shit, I gotta go. Told Dina I’d meet her after school and I’m like two hours late.”
“Alright,” Joel says. “Be back by curfew this time.”
“Maybe.”
“Ellie–I mean it. Eleven. Not 11:03, not midnight. Eleven .”
“I know, I know,” she frowns exaggeratedly and throws him a mock salute. “Eleven it is, captain.”
She moves to the door, then hesitates and turns back, catching Joel by the side in a rare and unexpected hug. You meet his eyes over the top of her head as they go wide with surprise, then soft.
“Later, kid.”
“G’bye.”
“She’s right,” he mutters when she’s gone, swiping at his eyes. “I’m a sap.”
“The sappiest sap,” you agree, but you’re talking past a lump in your throat. Today has been too much. You move in to take her place at his side and his grip on you is fierce.
~*~
You put together two dinner plates with the lasagna and some greens you find in the crisper, then cover them and put them in the fridge, deciding to let the new-again parents sleep while they can.
It’s dark when you and Joel creep out of the house. His arm locks around yours on your weak side to steady you, something he’s taken to doing any time you walk together.
“Ellie started cleaning out the garage. Going to move her out there in the spring, when it’s warmer. Should have the summer to get it insulated.”
“You’re going to have an empty nest,” you tease.
“Not if Tommy and Maria keep goin’ like they’re goin’,” he says gruffly. “Could open a damn daycare.”
“You love it.”
He scowls, but a smile peeks out from underneath.
You stop outside his house and follow his gaze upward to a clear black sky and a million stars. He swallows hard and looks at you with such longing, for one unbearable moment you think he’s going to say the words you never say–or do something even more preposterous, like propose.
“So, uh…I was thinkin’...since Ellie’s moving out…this place is too big for just me.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mmhmm. Put so much work into it an’ all…hate to just leave it…”
Relief billows and pools inside you, and you sag against him. “Sounds like you need a roommate.”
“I…thought about that. Might even have someone in mind.”
You cluck your tongue. “They’d have to be a very special kind of person to put up with you.”
He growls in the back of his throat, and gently pulls you around to face him.
“It’s further from the clinic,” you frown, trailing a finger down the front of his shirt.
Joel snorts. “Yeah, ‘cause that whole extra block’s a real bitch.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, Miller.”
“Hey,” his voice softens, and he tips your chin up in the crook of his finger. He’s searching your face, hoping to find it–the silent thing that says he is yours, and you are his, even if you are both too broken to say it.
“I think…we could make it work,” you say softly.
“Really?” he smiles, all relief and wonder and stars in his eyes. “You do?”
He’s looking at you with a tenderness you can hardly bear, but you don’t look away. He ducks his head until your warm breath mingles in soft white clouds between you.
“Nothing serious, right?” you whisper, before his mouth slants over yours and his words are lost to the softness of your lips.
“Nothin’ serious.”
~*~
The end. <3
If you made it this far, thank you for reading. Your comments/likes/kudos are EVERYTHING. :)
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seventeenpins · 6 months
Text
west
Tumblr media
prologue
pairing: Joel Miller x nb!character
word count: 2.7k
genre: period western/horror
summary: Dakota Territory, 1879. Joel Miller, a widower, lives on the outskirts of Deadwood with his brother and daughter. After travelling north from Texas two years earlier, they've put down roots in the community. Tommy came for the gold rush, and Joel came to keep an eye on Tommy. The end of the world arrives piece by piece, and then all at once.
warnings: glaring historical inaccuracies, canon typical violence, allusions to a suicide attempt, essentially just the opening of the show/game but set in 1879 with some bits adjusted, the horrors of being a person in the 1800s, nb love interest is essentially a reader self-insert but is named (tho won't appear till the next chapter), it will be a slowwwww burn.
a/n: Ok, a funny thing that didn't come up in my research till I was ninety percent thru the outline and halfway thru the chapter but had independently decided on 1879 as the setting -- Deadwood actually burned down on September 26, 1879. Figured it was serendipitous. Happy Birthday, Joel! 🫠
The day the world ended, the sun rose bright across the valley. Autumn was just starting to emerge and dust motes appeared suspended in the bright sunbeams, forested wilderness surrounding the town of Deadwood. The leaves weren't changed, not fully, but here and there you could find a red tree amongst the green ones, and you knew they'd follow soon.
Joel was exhausted. His head ached. His bones ached. He could already feel the stiffness in his muscles from yesterday's work, and today would be no better.
The first few cries of the rooster hadn't done so much as stir him, but now as morning truly broke, he could smell mouth-watering aromas wafting up from below, heard the bustling in his kitchen and his belly rumbled, waking him up right quick.
He scrunched his face up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and went over to the basin to splash cool water on his face. He stared at his reflection in his glass. Another year older. Another strand of silver in his hair. Thirty six. He'd made it to thirty six.
He pulled a shirt from his drawer and frowned. It was soft, cotton, and one of his favorites, but he was sure this one was torn at the shoulder, left to waste away in the oft forgotten mending basket. He shook it out and peered at it–sure enough, it had been torn, but now it was mended with fine, careful stitches.
Sarah. It must've been.
That girl was busy herself, but it warmed him, that she'd taken the time to mend her old pa's shirts without him ever having to ask.
He dresses quickly, tucking in his mended shirt, buttoning his trousers, adjusting his suspenders. He wasn't a vain man, but he takes pride in his work, and his mama always told him "It ain't about vanity, Joel. You take yourself and your appearance serious, others will too."
He grew up with little, but his mama was an accomplished seamstress. Her mending was impeccable, and any time she found a discarded bit of fabric, she'd bring it back to life and make it twice as pretty as she found it. Joel reckoned she was the best dressed woman in all of Texas. She collected issues of Good Housekeeping and Harper's, taking account of all the latest fashions. She built corsets and cages and all the ladies would flock to her to do them up just as pretty.
Joel combed back his hair. Stared in the mirror for just a moment longer, lost in his memories. Nodded, and stepped downstairs.
"Pa!" Sarah grinned at him as he entered the kitchen, "Lookin' mighty fine this morning."
She pulled him in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you, baby girl," he grinned back, "You makin' us breakfast?"
"Yep!" She nods, and hands him a plate. Drop biscuits, a little burnt, swimming in gravy, a cup of wild berries on the side, and a hot cup of coffee.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the spiraling tendrils of coffee vapour and let out a delighted hum. "You spoil me, kiddo."
"'Course," she nodded, and took a big bite of her own biscuit.
"Uncle Tommy home?" Joel asked, and Sarah shook her head, a couple of biscuit crumbs scattering around her, "Nah, he went out early today. Said he wanted to get done with his work early so he can celebrate your birthday."
Joel raised an eyebrow. "Celebrate my birthday?" he scoffs, "Stop by the saloon or lose all his money at cards and still make it on time to dinner is more like it."
He took one last gulp of his coffee and placed the mug down.
"We'll have a nice night," Sarah assured him, "An' I told Uncle Tommy he best be here in time for supper or else. And I'm makin' you a cake."
"Okay, baby. You'd best be off to school, now. I'll get these dishes taken care of."
"You sure?" She asked.
"Positive."
Sarah nodded, pulled off her apron, tossed a few of her favorite books in her satchel and tore out the door.
Joel went off for his work. Only two years they'd been in the Black Hills, Joel, Sarah and Tommy, but they'd made a nice little home. They came up after Sarah's mama passed, and Tommy heard about the gold rush. He insisted it was all because of the rush he wanted to come, but Sarah always suspected he came because he knew Joel would follow, and her pa needed a change of scenery. He'd almost faded into a ghost himself, sitting round their empty old house, nearly lost in memories. Grief had a way of consuming him.
So they'd traveled North, left Texas behind for good, and made a new life for themselves.
The schoolhouse had been around since before the Millers arrived in Deadwood, but there hadn't been a teacher till Spring of this year. Joel was glad Sarah finally had a chance for a proper education. Smart as a whip, that one, and hungry for knowledge. He couldn't wait to see what she was gonna do.
There weren't a lot of kids, or even that many women in the community outside of the brothels, but the Millers had established themselves. Tommy was something of a wild card, getting into bar fights more often than Joel would prefer, but he'd never gotten on the wrong side of a quick draw, and he had enough charm he managed to get out of most of the trouble he found himself in. And Joel–Joel was reliable. Whether he was fixing someone's step, or making sure to haul that extra meat back after a hunt to ensure one of Sarah's friends would have enough to eat, he could be depended on.
The day the world ended, Joel saddled up Delphine, his dapple grey, and mounted her, tools packed neatly in her panniers. Today, he'd be working on repairs at the general store. They rode from their home at the outskirts towards town.
As he approached, he slowed to a walk. Something felt off, like there was a tension about to snap. But no one was bleeding, and some days on the frontier that felt like a high enough bar to clear.
Along Main Street, he could hear strained voices.
"The telegraphs stopped coming-" He heard one man say.
"Problem with the wire?" Another asked.
The first man shook his head. "Naw, had some of my guys inspect it. Everything should be workin'. It just- it ain't."
"How long's it been going on?"
"Been five days now. Never seen it like this before."
"Ain't seen any coaches for weeks now, too. It's like the route just stopped altogether. Don't know how to get word to my folks back east about the new baby if we've got no mail and no telegraphs."
The day the world ended, Joel made it home by sunset, just in time to find Sarah plating up their dinner.
"Good day?" She asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah, got lots done. Next time you go by the general store, you'll see a door that swings smoothly on its hinges and brand new windowpanes."
"That's great, Pa!" she smiled. It warmed her to see his pride in his work.
"Uncle Tommy home yet?" Joel asked.
"No," Sarah frowned, "Thought he'd be back a couple hours ago, too. Guess you're right."
"Reckon he's lost track of time. Though- Huh, I didn't see him at the saloon when I rode by."
"There's always the cathouse?" Sarah suggested, and Joel snorted and shook his head. It wasn't an impossibility.
"Well-," Sarah paused, "There'll be cake waiting for him, but at least have your supper before it gets cold."
"Thank you baby," Joel smiled, took his plate from her, and dug in.
The night felt heavy, something in the atmosphere pressing like a weight through the world. All the food was eaten (besides a small plate left for Tommy) and the cake was cut, when the gunshots started outside.
Sarah started and Joel bolted upright, swinging around to grab the rifle by the door without a second thought.
"What's happening?" she asked.
Joel shook his head, crouching down by the window, pushing the curtains aside and peering through.
"I don't know, baby. Just stay calm, stay low. We're gonna be okay."
There was no one directly outside, but the gunshots continued, and the more Joel stared, the more he could see smoke rising from town.
"Looks like a fire," he told her, "Don't know what the shootin's about, though. And–" His eyes narrowed, heartbeat pounded. "We gotta block the door, baby, there's someone coming."
"Is it Uncle Tommy?" She asked, eyes wide and voice small.
"No, I don't think–" Joel had grabbed the heavy mahogany table by the legs and started tugging, but did a double take out the window. "Wait, you're right!"
It was Tommy, galloping towards their home on a mount Joel didn't recognize. Before Tommy was even a hundred feet away, Joel could hear him call out his name.
"Joel!" Tommy bellowed, "We gotta get outta here!"
Joel swung the door open and Tommy stumbled in.
"Somethin's happening," he wheezed, breaths coming quickly, panic etched across his face, running to the cabinet and filling his pack with ammo. A knife. Another revolver. "We gotta pack up anythin' we can't afford to lose. The town's on fire. There are these people, fuck, Joel, it's like they're the Devil's got 'em."
"Like the Devil's got 'em?" Joel asked, pulling two bags from pegs by the door. "The fuck you mean? You been on the shine again?" He turned to Sarah. "Start packin', baby. Clothes, medicine. Cash, too, you know the drawer?"
She nodded and ran upstairs, and Joel turned back to Tommy, fumbling through papers and photos, knowing he had no time for sentiment but couldn't bear to leave without trying to think of everything.
"They're fuckin' possessed," Tommy explained, "Won't listen to reason. It's a fuckin' mess in town. A few coaches came through today and there were men on it raving, saying some kinda devilry was coming through. They seemed crazy, so we just laughed. Didn't think much of it."
He shook his head and ran a palm down his face. That's when Joel noticed the blood on his sleeve.
"Jesus," Joel said, "You hurt?"
Tommy shook his head, confused, and then looked where Joel was looking and exhaled. "Naw," he exhaled, "That blood ain't mine."
"So what happened?"
"Well," Tommy continued, "An hour or so later we heard screaming. Turns out a couple folks who'd come in by train from down South a day or so ago, who weren't feelin' all that well, they'd been to the doctor and went crazy. Started twitchin'. Bitin'. Proper bitin' people. They got these things in their mouths, these weird fuckin' tendrils-"
Joel stared at him, a muscle in his jaw tensing.
"I know it sounds crazy, Joel, but something bad is fuckin' happening. Don't know what it is. All I know is people are tearing each other up. And we gotta get outta here."
Joel was silent a minute and then nodded, solemn.
"Okay." He took a deep breath. "We're gonna get outta here."
"We are," Tommy agreed, "But we both know the only way out is through town, and it's a shit show right now."
"Fuck," Joel hissed and looked out the window again, "Looks like the whole town is on fire."
"It is," Tommy nodded, "But we can avoid Main Street. Go to the outside, and around to the thoroughfare."
"Fine." Then Joel called upstairs, "We gotta go, baby!"
Sarah re-emerged, two bags packed full. "I got clothes for both of us. Money. Few other things."
"Thank you, baby."
They saddled up their horses, Tommy on his stolen mare, Joel and Sarah on Delphine.
Joel hated this, hated that they had to pass through town to pass by Deadwood and across into the Black Hills, but they were at the edge of the gulch. No way to go but through.
Before they rode, Joel cupped the back of Sarah's head with one hand, closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He nearly didn't, worried her pa would be embarrassing her. But he did. For the rest of his life, he was always glad that he did.
As they rode through flames, they saw the foundations of the place they called home begin to crumble. It was chaos. It was worse than Joel ever could have imagined. The town was engulfed in madness, men eating one another toppled over onto the dusty ground. Smoke choked them and made their eyes water as they rode through with cloths pressed to their mouths, trying to avoid the worst of it. There were a few folks who had built barricades and stood beyond them, guns aimed, trying to take down the most violent of the possessed. It was horrifying, their friends, colleagues, and neighbors engaged in a fight to the death. It was wrong wrong wrong and by God it was the end of the world.
They saw the younger Adlers torn to pieces, and the elder running on all fours as she tried to rip apart someone else.
"Hold onto me, baby," Joel said, pulling her in in an attempt to shield her from the bodies. She'd already gotten a glimpse and couldn't help but stare, and she stared for a moment before she felt nauseous. Then, she screwed up her eyes and held on tight.
They saw Jimmy's place in flames. The baker's. The saloon. There were women running from the brothel, still rouged and bright as they aimed their guns at the monsters around them.
Through side paths and shortcuts, down alleyways and in the gaps between houses, they rode desperately through Deadwood. The buildings Joel had helped erect and the repairs he'd completed in the past few years had given him an intricate knowledge of the settlement. They rode fast and sure, evading the devils that clutched at the air, reaching for their ankles as they rode by.
Makeshift barricades had been put up all along the outskirts of town. Each way they turned, there was no way through. They rode back and forth, crisscrossing the streets as they tried their best to pull away from the writhing bodies in the dirt.
It wasn't till they passed the very last buildings down Main Street, right by the edge of town, that they slowed.
The sheriff lay dead, a bullet right between his eyes, bleeding out on the dusty street corner. A circuit rider loomed ahead of him on his mount, hands resting on his shotgun that, slung over his shoulder. Blood drenched his forearms, spattered against his coat, so soaked it shone visible even against the heavy wool. There was a fear in his eyes, a terror that unsettled them.
When he saw the Millers, he straightened and raised the weapon.
"Preacher, let us through," Tommy said, and the homilist darted his eyes between the men.
"Can't let anyone past," the man said, "This here's the reckoning. No one's gonna escape the inevitable."
Tommy raised his revolver. "I ain't askin' again. Let us through."
The preacher steadied his shaking hands and aimed his shotgun "But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up-"
It's hard to say who fired first.
In a split second, two gunshots rang out, fragmented echos of one another. The preacher fell. So did Joel and Sarah.
The bullet grazed through Joel's side, and he clutched at his abdomen, holding the wound.
"Joel-!" Tommy cried as he flung himself from his mount, the preacher dead and already forgotten.
Joel rolled over and crawled towards where Sarah lay. The bullet that had gone through Joel pierced her belly and she shook, blood spurting and pooling from the wound.
He tried to apply pressure, tried to slow the bleeding, but her screams and sobs stilled him.
"I'm sorry, baby," he cried, and she shook, eyes darting around, trying to focus and failing.
"Pa-," she croaked.
"It's okay, baby girl," he lied, "You're gonna be okay."
She exhaled in a final gurgling puff, blood spattering across her perfect face, and Joel howled.
She was gone, he knew it, but still he cradled her.
Tommy stroked her hair and wiped the blood off her cheek. Joel pressed his head to her chest and wept, horrible strangled heaves caught in each exhale.
The day the world ended, Joel's world ended, too.
They carried her body with them for miles, Joel holding her close even as he felt her begin to cool and stiffen. Time escaped them as they rode, and around sunrise, they found a creek with wildflowers blanketing the banks. A small herd of pronghorns leaped along the water.
Tommy dug a hole and Joel told her stories, rocking her back and forth in his arms. All the ones he could remember, that she loved so much when she was little. Told her to rest easy now, baby.
They lowered her into the ground, and Joel wept. Tommy assembled a small cairn at the head of her grave. Joel looked down at his mended shirt and realised it was ruined with blood. The last gift from his daughter, and he'd ruined it.
Joel embraced Tommy. Held his brother close and told him he loved him. Muttered something about needing a moment to himself and wandered off.
The day his world ended, Joel tried to follow her into the darkness. A gunshot rang out, echoing through the hills.
Tommy ran to the sound and found him, crumpled but very much alive. He held his big brother close, cloth pressed hard to his bleeding temple, brushing away his streaming tears as he cried himself, terrified to lose all of his remaining family in a single day.
The day the world ended, the last two Millers were covered in blood and filth and tears. All they had was each other, their horror and their fear.
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enretrogue · 4 months
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𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗘 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)
.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST
TLOU
ABBY ANDERSON
30 Minutes — @ourautumn86
So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings — @hope-drunk
Babymama!Abby — @bayasdulce
Boxer!Abby x GF!Reader — @lillysbigwilly
Guiding Light (Lost At Sea) — @heavenbloom
Meeting Abby At A Club — @astro-ellie
At Least I Got You In My Head ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @whatwouldsylwrite
Modern!Abby HCs — @darlingmisa
How Abby proposes To You (Modern AU) — @abbysdruidess
Making Out w/ Abby — @millersaurora
Resuscitate — @loaksky
HCs About Married Life With Abby — @abbysdruidess
Handcuffed by Dom!Abby — @millersaurora
Basketball!Abby — @shawtuzi .☘︎ ݁˖
College!Abby HCs — @cowgirlcherrie
Rockstar!Abby — @elsfairy
Dating Abby HCs — @sugarbag
ELLIE WILLIAMS
SFX Artist!Reader x Streamer!Ellie HCs — @elliesmainhoe
One Last Time — @ellieslovergirl
I Win — @bonnevia
If I’m So Special, Why Am I A Secret? ⎢ What’s Mine, You’ll Miss. — @angvlita
Pervy!Neighbor!Els Teaching Innocent!Reader Guitar — @strawberryjamheart
NSFW Alphabet — @hundredandsix
Enemies to Angry Sex — @elliesflwrgirl
Random Ellie Blurb  — @valentinetexas
Babysitting Gig — @lunels
The Hard Way ⎢ Pt. 2 — @totheblood
Western Nights — @lolasimms
Meddle About — @vitentia
ELLABS
3Some — @eroseas
Where The Flowers Bloom ⎢ 2 — @elsfleur
Okay, So. The Jail AU. — @elsweetheart
This Is What Makes Us Girls ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @lolasimms
Reader Fucks Around And Finds Out — @angelanderson
Pool Party — @bellaramslover
Roommate w/ Benefits — @abbysvictim
Welcome to Jackson ⎢ Part Two — @misscaitvi
JOEL MILLER
Iris — @cowgurrrl
Hayloft  — @cowgurrrl
Brooklyn Baby — @cowgurrrl
As It Was — @cowgurrrl
Yo Gotti — @cowgurrrl
Natant — @din-miller
Orange Crush — @tieronecrush
Apothecary ⎢ 9 — @atinylittlepain
For Her ⎢ For Pleasure ⎢ For Protection — @wardenparker + absurdthirst
Good Girl — @valentinetexas
Picture — @softlyspector
Stranger Than A Stranger — @proxima-writes
Cruel — @notjustjavierpena
Fair Grounds For Love — @jobean12-blog
The Darkest Little Paradise — @morning-star-joy
A Wound That Never Heals — @toxic-seduction
DBF!Joel Worshiping Shy!Reader— @inkedells
Dead Weight Part III — @lovers-liability
Too Cold (Platonic)(+ Tommy Miller)— @prentissluvr
Joel x Wife!Reader — @forever-rogue
Like Rabbits Blinded By The Light — @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Heavy Metal Drummer — @cowgurrrl
Enemies to Lovers — @fooled-around-and-fell
Not a Survivalist Girl Part 4 — @chaotic-mystery + tightjeansjavi
Masked Up — @soullumii
Cat Scratch Fever — @soullumii
Pretty Prey — @cavillscurls
Only You, Only Me — @wonwoosthetic
What Never Left Us — @bi-writes
Tennessee Whiskey — @cowgurrrl
Starving — @jrrmint
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romanarose · 9 days
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About a Girl
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It all started with Tommy, as most adventures do. Joel was certain Tommy would make sure to mention that fact during his best man speech.
About a Girl my Joel Miller x Trans Fem!Reader coming soon, chapter 1 will debute with my Oscar Isaac/Pedro Pascal Pride Event, that weeks theme being "coming out"
Will also include: themes of found family, Tommy shitheadery (I love him), bi Tess, grunge, lots of flannel, y'allternative (blending Joel's country life and reader's grunge life), Bill and Frank as the elder gays, Joel knows nothing about queerness and transness but by golly's he's trying, single dad Joel, good uncle tommy, good uncle but also not very responsible and maybe has an addiction problem Tommy? lets find out!
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💋February Kisses & 4K Followers Drabble Request Event!💋
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❤️
February is for fluff and love, and this kisses prompt list is just too cute so I decided to use it for my requests for part 2 of my 4K follower celebration event and just to share some love here too!
I can’t believe I hit such a huge milestone it feels unreal!!! Thank you all sooo much for following me and supporting my works and for sticking around!!! I’m sending all the love right back at y’all!!! ❤️💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️
Using this prompt list send in a request for a short drabble (500-1k words I’m guessing, depending on how many I get) to be posted throughout the month of February to celebrate! Requests for this will be open from now, Feb 1 until February 7! Requests now closed!
I will not be using my taglist for this so please also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications to stay up to date! @flightlessangelwings-updates
QUICK RULES! Please read these before sending in anything!
- Please be following me to send in a request. Anon is fine just please use the honor system. And NO MINORS! My blog is 18+ only so minors please so not follow or interact!
- Please reblog your request!
- Please copy the entire prompt in your ask. Multiple requests are ok but please don’t overwhelm with too many. 
- Please let me know what type of drabble you want: fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, etc. Feel free to ask for something more specific too! If you want a specific type of reader (gn, fem, plus size, bi, Latine, etc) please let me know!
- I’ll be taking requests for the following characters only:
Pedro characters- Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Comandante Veracruz, Javier Peña, Javi Gutierrez, Pero Tovar, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Ezra
Star Wars- Poe Dameron, Cassian Andor, Fennec Shand, Boba Fett, Cobb Vanth, Kino Loy, Cal Kestis
Marvel- Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Loki, Tasm!Peter Parker, Frank Castle, Carol Danvers, Sam Wilson
Others- Tommy Miller, Benny Miller, Santiago Garcia, Bishop Losa, Angel Reyes, Dream of the Endless, Thirteenth Doctor
Specific parings and thruples- MPoA (Frankie/reader/Benny), Neighbor!Steven Grant, Veracruz/Cariño, DinCobb/reader, Joel/reader/Frankie, Javi G/Estrella, BobaDin/reader
- This is a list of things I do not write for. Please respect my boundaries and do not ask for anything on this list. It will be deleted and ignored.
Real people fic
Pregnancy/breeding/lactation/kids/anything similar
Age gaps, including teacher/student
Virginity/innocence kink
Daddy kink
Sick fics/illness
Priest au or anything religious
A/B/O
- Please use a heart emoji at the end of your ask so I know you read all of this! Asks without one will not be answered. Thank you!  💖
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