#makin his way downtown | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wardenparker · 4 months

Text

Next to Normal, part 3

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: 18+! Explicit for violence Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing. PTSD, past death of a child, mentions of pregnancy and STIs, panic attack, trauma reactions, home invasion, threats of murder, infliction of mortal injuries, descriptions of broken bones and other wounds, blink and you’ll miss It mention of drug use, manipulation, gaslighting, revenge, conspiracy, death. DEAD DOVE. DO NOT EAT. This chapter contains graphic violence! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Summary: Things have been going well with Joel until one fateful movie night. It will take fighting past all of your demons to make it to your happily ever after. Notes: The finale of this three-parter was particularly emotional for me to write and the relief of a happy ending was absolutely necessary. My hope is that there is absolutely no one in the world who can relate to the reader as she/you go through hell, but I'm realistic enough to know better. So to all my kindred spirits who struggle, I hope you find catharsis in reader's journey.

Part 1 ~ Part 2

Winter turned to spring with an ease and grace that almost made you forget that times are hard. The outside world is moving in whatever way it does, but Jackson is doing well. Ellie is learning basic agriculture in the fields on her school break and Joel is becoming more and more a way a part of how this town runs. He gets consulted on matters as a prominent citizen, from the basic to the complicated. This morning he was off at another meeting but he’ll be all yours for the afternoon, and then there is the movie at night. It is shaping up to be a nearly perfect day, as days go in this world, and you sit in your sewing nook letting out the seams on some dresses for a family in town with young girls — they’re growing like weeds and the girls’ favorite dresses are now too tight. Well, you can certainly fix that.

“Joel?” The door opens and Tommy sticks his head in to see if his brother is here. “Sorry, is Joel here? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s in the basement.” It’s become something of a workshop for him, but you wave for Tommy to come in. He knows the way down. “Is everything okay?”

“Had something come up.” Tommy admits, shuffling into the house and shutting the door. “Need to see if he can help.”

“I’m sure he can.” Instinctively, and wanting to be helpful, you set your sewing aside and move to the open door at the top of the basement stairs. “Joel? Tommy’s here to see you, honey.”

“Send him down.” Joel calls back up, grunting and there’s the sound of something being set down on the concrete floor. “Or send him away. Hell if I wanna put up with him.” He jokes.

“Asshole.” Tommy jokes with a rumble, but thanks you and heads down the stairs. “The hell you doing down here, building a bunker? The world already ended.”

Joel snorts and shrugs. “Makin’ some cabinets for her.” He motions towards the half-finished organizers. “For her doo-dads and stuff. Figured I might get it done by Christmas if I started now.”

“She’s happy.” It makes Tommy smile to see the two of you together these days. You’ve come so far with Joel, and he has softened so much with you. “It’s good to see.”

“You come to see me for any one reason? Or to comment on domestic bliss?” He raises a brow at his brother, slightly uncomfortable with the idea that your happiness is tied to him. You’ve been healing, but he’s not entirely sure that it’s because of him.

“Need you to come downtown.” Leaning back against the wall, Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets. “Patrol got their asses handed to them by a group of raiders and some wanderer helped them out of a tight spot. They blindfolded him and brought him back to town to stitch him up and they’re talking about letting him stay. But town council needs to meet on it and interview the guy.”

Joel isn’t a council member, even though some apparently thought him as good as one. “Can’t.” He shakes his head. “Gotta work on that pen with Ellie and then it’s movie night.”

“I know it’s movie night.” Tommy digs the toe of his boot into the floor of the basement. “That’s why they wanted this settled fast. Nobody wants to give up movie night.” He nods though, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll tell ‘em you were busy.”

“Sorry.” Joel frowns slightly. “I just— I promised her a night.” He lowers his voice and looks towards the stairs to make sure you aren’t coming down. “It’s…that time and I’m tryin’ to keep her busy so the nightmares don’t come.”

“I know.” Tommy nods, knowing exactly what time of year you were found, considering he was the one who found you. Your boy should be turning a year old tomorrow, but that will never happen. “Is she…how has she been?”

“There’s some rough days.” Joel won’t deny that, he can’t. “But I think being here with us, living with me and Ellie, has been good for her.”

“It’s as normal as any of us are going to get.” Tommy offers, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll get out of your hair. You good, otherwise?”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and shoots his brother a look. “Thanks, for covering for me.”

"Once Maria gets your ass on the town council there won't be any helping you." He shoots his brother a grin and Tommy shakes his head, laughing at the thought. "See you tonight?"

Joel snorts. “See you tonight.” He promises, frowning as Tommy quickly ascends the stairs and huffs. His own knees would be crackling at the pace his younger brother was moving. The truth was, Joel didn’t want to stray too far from you over the next day or so, so he had come up with reasons to work down in the basement.

"Everything okay?" When you stick your head down the stairs a few minutes later after seeing Tommy out the door, Joel has his head back over his workbench.

“Yeah.” Joel looks up and is met with a worried shadow in your eyes. “Nothin’ to worry about. He just was tryin’ to recruit me for council business again.”

"They want you to join." Coming halfway down the stairs, you sit on the middle step as you've become accustomed to. It keeps you close to him but not close enough to be underfoot.

“Councils.” He snorts, looking up at you with a roll of his eyes. “Can you imagine me on a council?”

"They'd probably get more done," you tell him honestly. "Because you wouldn't put up with them sitting around talking in circles all day."

“I don’t talk, I act.” You know this, though he probably talks to you more than anyone else in this goddamn town.

"I know, love. That's why they want you." Still, you understand his hesitance to join in on anything like that. Joel doesn't like politicking and he doesn't like being responsible for anymore than just your little family.

“They can want in one hand…” he trails off and looks back up at you. “How’s the sewing going? That peddle workin’ alright on the machine?”

"Things are going a hell of a lot faster thanks to you." The previous town seamstress's sewing machine had broken and there hadn't been any luck in fixing it before Joel. Now, though? You're moving through projects with ease. "Thank you for that."

“Anything for you.” The simplicity of the words don’t smudge their meaning. Joel would do anything for you. It’s just the way he’s wired.

"I love you, too." A fact which still reduces you to a stammering schoolgirl in some ways, but it's the truth. Loving Joel has restored you in so many ways.

He huffs in embarrassment but his eyes soften as he sends you a small smile. “Love you too.”

“I’ll let you work.” As much as you like to be close to him as much as possible, you know he has work to do and so do you. “When are you going to help Ellie with the pen?”

“When she comes tracking back in.” Joel snorts and shoots you a look. “You tell her that if she doesn’t brush off her boots, she’s sweepin’ the floors.”

“Okay, love.” You chuckle softly as you get up from the stairs and blow him a kiss before heading back upstairs.

Joel watches you walk up the stairs, frowning slightly. He’s worried, waking up with a sense of foreboding that he’s learned to not ignore. Something’s going to happen. Walking over to a cabinet, he opens it to reveal the supplies he’s started slowly acquiring. His eyes narrow slightly, reaching out and touching the hunting knife in front of him.

******

“Joel c’mon, we’re gonna be laaaate!” Ellie wails across the pen, pulling her jacket back on after their work is done.

“Alright.” The kid needs to learn to put her tools up, but she did a decent job. “Grab your stuff.”

“I got it!” She yells, triumphantly holding up the tool belt that Tommy had lent to her for the work.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You aren’t eager for the movie are you? Or is it more the person you’re sittin’ with?”

The grin instantly slips from Ellie’s face and morphs into an embarrassed blush. “Don’t know what yer talkin’ about,” she mumbles, kicking the dirt.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” Joel scoffs. “Dina’s a nice girl. You obviously like spending time with her.”

“She’s so pretty.” There’s a dreamy quality to the teenager’s face when she looks up again and Ellie swings herself over to Joel’s side enthusiastically. “And she…she holds my hand sometimes. But I probably shouldn’t overthink that, right?”

“Don’t under think it either.” Joel cautions her. “Don’t want her to think that you’re bored by her.”

“Right.” That seemed to not even occur to Ellie, and she furrows her brow in tight as they start to walk back toward their house. “Is that what happened with you guys? Why she didn’t know you even liked her at first?”

“Probably.” Joel admits easily. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, kid, but I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Oh no, I know.” The grin she beams at him is enormous, like Joel’s grumpiness is her private amusement. “Somehow she doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“No, she doesn’t.” A fact that continues to astonish him. “But I try to be less of an asshole to her. That’s important in a relationship.” He tells Ellie like he’s imparting important wisdom.

“Don’t…be an asshole…to…Dina.” Ellie mimics writing the advice in the air on an invisible chalkboard and smirks. “Got it.”

“Good.” He snorts, rolling his eyes and huffing at the sarcasm displayed by the teenager. “You could get her some ice cream tonight.” He suggests.

“Ya think?” It seems to be an idea that hasn’t yet occurred to Ellie and immediately her eagerness has her walking faster. “Ohhh, yeah. She’d love that!”

Joel watches her pull ahead in amusement. “It’s the little things that count, kid.”

She could make a joke about his little thing, but that’s just gross to think about and she flinches instead as she walks along the road. “It’s just hard to know, ya know?” She says after a while. “If she likes me or not, I mean.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Joel doesn’t treat it as a joke, because it’s not. People are still emotional creatures and yearn for connection, even at the end of the world. “You should ask her to do something.” He suggests. “Something different.”

“Like when you guys go star gazing?” She asks, turning around to face him while she walks backward.

Joel smirks slightly, knowing that the star gazing often turns into more, but he just shrugs. “Something like that. Bird watching, star gazing, collecting shiny rocks from the riverbed.”

“Shiny rocks is good.” Like it’s the most profound thought in the world, Ellie nods. “We could go, like…walking on the river and pick up stones and look for birds?”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and smiles at the sight of Ellie staring off dreamily as she imagines her date. “Just be safe, you know?” He adds, clearing his throat. “Just because, you know, there can’t be babies doesn’t mean you can’t catch something.”

“Oh, ew, okay, way to ruin it.” She sticks her tongue out at him and makes a grossed out sound just as the house comes into view.

“Yeah, that’s what I get for trying to talk about that shit.” He chuckles and winces at the way he has managed to mess that up. “I’m sure you know all about what you need to know.” You have been a great motherly figured and he feels like having Ellie to dote on has helped you too.

It’s a few minutes later that Ellie busts in the front door of the house and sheds her jacket and tool belt to immediately to run upstairs. “Everything okay?” You ask Joel when he ambles in after her. “Ellie didn’t say a word when she came in. I’m assuming either something went wrong or she’s nervous about seeing Dina?”

Joel grins, a mischievous glint to his gaze as he looks at you. “Embarrassed her.” He admits shamelessly. “Told her that just because there won’t be no babies, don’t mean there can’t be something caught.” He feels just like he did when he embarrassed Sarah years ago.

“Nothing says quality Dad time like horrifying your teenager.” The smile you have for him is soft and sweet, and you wait until he’s shucked his jacket and set down his tools to kiss him.

His arms come around you easily. His own pressing of his lips against yours soft and promising. “Yeah. It’s pretty great.” He jokes, squeezing you slightly.

This is what’s great, and you sigh softly to yourself without even realizing it as the two of you just stand in the living room holding each other. The sense of serenity in just this house alone is such an enormous comfort to you and it’s almost entirely due to this man. “She’s a good kid,” you murmur in agreement.

“She is. And she’s about to have her first real girlfriend.” He snorts. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” A small nod of your head comes as your eyes drop back to the floor, thinking of the son you buried who will never see these milestones. “They do…”

“I’m sorry, beautiful girl.” It was a thoughtless comment, even for him. Knowing your loss and his own loss, he should have never said anything.

“It’s okay.” Sniffling the feeling away as best you can, you set your face to rights again and offer him a smile. “It’s just…I had another dream about him last night. That’s all.” They’re less frequent than they were but they do still happen regularly. It’s a battle not to let them take over your whole mind.

“I wish you were still holdin’ him.” Joel murmurs softly, pulling you into his arms for a comforting hug. “That I could have protected you both.”

“Nothing could have saved him.” As much as it hurts, you’ve had to make your peace with losing your son. There just wasn’t any way to keep him alive — especially considering you barely kept yourself alive. What’s terrifying is, as you lean into Joel’s chest, you could swear that you can feel hope winging in your chest. “At least…if it ever happens again…I know we’ll be safe this time.”

He wants to immediately shoot that down, to pretend you had never mentioned it. Too painful to even imagine losing another child, losing you. “I swear you would be safe.” Is what he promises, his hold on you tightening even more. As if his hug could shelter you from all the unknowns.

“I’m not asking for another. I’m not even sure I want another.” That clarification feels vitally important as his arms squeeze you tight. “I’m just saying, if it happened…I wouldn’t have to be scared.”

“You never have to be scared as long as I’m here.” He promises instantly. “If it happened, you ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a hell of a conversation to have almost by accident, considering you haven’t even had ‘traditional’ sex yet, but it’s important. Because you will. With the way you love him and the way he loves you, it’s not too far away. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too, beautiful girl.” By accident, Joel had learned that you love when he cups your cheek gently, so he does it now.

“When you two are done being mushy, I’m ready to go.” Neither of you had even heard Ellie come downstairs again, but here she is, grinning at you and teasing unrepentantly.

“Well, if you’re ready to go, what are we waiting for?” Joel huffs sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the teenager.

“For you to change your smelly ass shirt.” Ellie snorts.

Joel rolls his eyes, but he pulls away, knowing that he had been sweating plenty while working on the pen. “I’ll be two minutes.” He promises you.

Two minutes is enough for you to put away the last of your sewing, and Joel comes back down in a clean shirt with a smile on his face, ready to take his girls to a movie. It never matters what the movie is, you always go, always thinking back to that first date from months ago when things had started falling into place.

“Dina and Ellie are probably going to go sit by themselves, do you want to sit with Tommy and Maria, or find a cozy spot?” Joel asks as all of you walk out of the house.

“I’m feeling cozy,” you admit, taking his hand to hold when he offers it to you. “But we can be cozy next to your brother and Maria if you like. I can’t even remember what the movie is tonight. You might want to actually watch it.”

“Naaaaaahhhhh.” There’s been too many movies between that first one and now, but he’s still concentrating on you. Just the normalcy of being in this position with you.

“Gross.” Bemoans the teenager just a few feet away, but Ellie smirks more these days when she teases you than she used to. Since admitting she likes Dina, she seems to get it a little more.

“Whatever kid.” Joel slings his arm around your shoulder, having talked about the more casual touches and setting boundaries for everyday life after you moved in. You hadn’t wanted him to ask permission every time and he hadn’t wanted you to feel you had to feel bad for not wanting to be touch. So you had introduced a color system. If it was a hands off moment, you would tell ‘red’ and he wouldn’t touch you. If you told him ‘yellow’ it was an ask day. ‘Green’, like you had confirmed earlier before Tommy had arrived, meant he was free to touch you in a non-sexual way without any questions.

The walk is easy. Halfway there Dina appears from her own house to join Ellie, and a little bit further down the road you’re joined by the two women who have taken on being Jackson’s schoolteachers. Casual chatting is easy tonight. You don’t worry when Ellie and Dina slip ahead to find seats in their own back corner. You don’t worry because there hasn’t been reason to. Not in so very long.

Joel looks around the room, not because he’s measuring a threat or searching for an exit, just…seeing who is here. He sees Maria and Tommy chatting with a town council member and he wonders how the interview went. Not enough to move from your side as he guides you towards a pair of chairs, but he notices a stranger standing off to the side, dumbly watching the scene in front of him. “Huh.” He grunts.

“Want to sit in back?” Your eyes are on Joel and there is mischief in your smile when you look up at him. His arm is still around you and there’s something in the casual care of it that you’ve grown to love.

“Yeah.” He looks into your eyes and a slight smirk makes his face transform from hard to playful. “Take up the back so the kids can’t have it. We’ll make out.”

"They're not gonna kiss the first time at the movies." From talking with Ellie you know that she and Dina are either a long way off from that happening — or possibly a kiss will happen that will spark the conversation and other necessary things. But either way, the first one is definitely not going to happen in public. "We can definitely steal some back row seats from them."

“Never know.” Joel leans in to whisper in your ear. “Figure she might be smarter than the average kid.”

"Smart enough to treat her girl right." You can agree to that entirely. For now you tuck into his side, weaving your way through the seats to find your customary place in a dark corner.

When you turn into the seats with your fingers tangled through Joel's, though, you stop short. Sitting with another one of the town council members who is always hounding Joel to accept their invitation to join, is a tall man with rounded shoulders and an unkempt beard. His hair is shaggy and his eyes skirt around the room furtively, sussing out as many details and inspecting as many faces as they can until they fall on you. "Oh god..." Freezing in place at Joel's side, your fingers dig into his arm immediately, clawing at him instead of your usual gentle grip. "I—Joel—I think I'm having a flashback," you murmur quietly, not trusting your eyes even though the man sitting six feet away looks almost nothing like he did when you left Chicago over a year ago.

“What?” Joel frowns and he immediately reaches out to stroke your neck like you enjoy. “Still green?” He asks quietly, unsure of what has you rattled, but if something is bothering your peace, he wants to help.

“I need you to tell me if you see that man.” As shaky and as quiet as your voice is — barely a whisper — you don’t take your eyes off of the figure sitting by the windows for even a second. “With the brown hair and the thin beard?”

Joel frowns and quickly turns around. “The green plaid?” He asks as he looks away from the man back to you, noting how your breath is starting to rapidly increase, you’re about to have a panic attack. “Black jeans?”

“Oh god…” You had been hoping it wasn’t real. That he wasn’t real. That it was just your mind ruining your good mood with conjured images and fears that had so recently been put to bed. But now your vision is blurring and your knees are buckling, and the world is spinning around you so quickly that you feel like you’re going to be sick as your skin starts to crawl. “How?” You keep repeating, over and over again, muttering the word to yourself like a broken record. “How is he here? How?”

Something is seriously wrong and Joel is a man who going to fix what’s wrong. Turning back around, the man is gone and he quickly stands, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go, beautiful girl.” He rushes out, knowing you would not want to have whatever is going on made public.

“How?” It’s like your mind is stuck on the worst kind of repeated loop, bumping over that one word, and you feel so stiff and terrified that you can barely swallow despite nearly hyperventilating and the tears now streaming down your cheeks. “How did he get here? How did he find me?”

“Who, beautiful girl, who?” Joel pulls you outside the movie theatre that used to be the old electronics store and cups your cheeks. “Who is he?” He knows, he feels it in his gut, but he wants you to say it.

The light in your eyes, the one that has so carefully been fostered and nurtured over the months you’ve spent in Jackson and especially with Joel, has completely gone out as you hiccup over a sob. Even two syllables are too much to take when you had felt so safe. “Aidan.”

His jaw hardens, his eyes flattening and darkening at the mention of the man who had tortured you. Done unspeakable things to you and nearly broken you. The name he had hoped you wouldn’t say. “They had a stranger come in today.” Joel wishes he had gone now, interviewed this man. “He helped the scouting party and they brought him in to interview.” Joel rubs his hands up and down your arms. “I’ll talk to Tommy, get him kicked out. He won’t stay.”

“He saw me.” You had looked each other straight in the eyes. It’s how you knew, in the worst pit of your stomach, that you weren’t hallucinating him. “H-he’s never going to leave i-if he knows I’m—I’m here…”

“Look at me.” Joel’s voice hardens slightly, knowing you are about to break down and he wants to keep you clear-headed. “He. Won’t. Touch. You.” He promises slowly, clearly. “They aren’t gonna want that son of a bitch here. He must have lied to the council and that doesn’t go over with them.”

“How?” Is all you can manage, feeling months’ worth of happiness shred apart inside you. Joel has you leaning with your back to the side of the building, but with every passing second your legs are giving out beneath you and you’re starting to slide to the ground in a deluge of new tears. You’ll never be safe. It will never be over.

He knows that nothing he can say will make you feel better, nothing. “Let me take you home.” He insists. “Then I’ll talk to Tommy.”

“Please don’t leave?” Any chance you have at protection lies with him and him alone, and you’re now more certain than ever that if he leaves your side, you’re doomed.

“Okay, okay beautiful girl.” Joel pulls you close. “I won’t leave. Let me take you home and Ellie can come home on her own.”

“O-okay.” As long as he doesn’t leave you, that’s what matters right now, and you cling to Joel like a lifeline when you hear the building doors open around the corner and the sound of heavy boots on the street.

“Joel?” It’s Tommy’s voice calling into the night. He must have seen you bolt for the door.

“Shhhhh, shhhhh, it’s Tommy.” Even though you know it’s his brother, your body tenses and you let out a whimper that breaks Joel’s heart as much as it makes him what to rip this Aidan apart. “I’m over here.”

“Everything okay?” When Tommy saunters around the side of the building it is immediately apparent that something is extremely wrong, and the younger Miller brother frowns in confusion.

“That fucker the council let in.” Joel growls, turning a fierce glare on the younger Miller, even though he had nothing to do with it. “What’s his name?”

“Um…Michael? Mike? Turner, I think it was. Mike Turner. Why?” He doesn’t like how pale you look, or how hard you have obviously been crying, and Tommy crosses his arms in discomfort. “Did he say or do something?”

“His fucking name is Aidan.” Joel hisses, looking back at you and hating how you flinch at the mere name.

“What the fuck?” Tommy’s eyes blow wide at that accusation, knowing exactly who ‘Aidan’ is and why you aren’t thrilled to hear the name ever. “That motherfucker is Aidan Stokes? You’re sure?”

“I’m taking her home.” He tells his brother. “Have Ellie sleep at your place?” He knows you will have a bad night and the best thing is to minimize the people witnessing it. Tommy nods and Joel pulls you away from the walk. “And get that fucker the hell out of here.” He calls over his shoulder, wishing he could take care of the problem himself.

“I’m on it.” Tommy promises, taking in the expression of pure terror and twisted grief on your features. In thirty seconds flat it’s as if you’ve gone back to being the same panicked little creature that you were when he had found you almost a year ago.

“Come one, beautiful girl.” Joel’s hands are gentle, trying to soothe as he coaxes you along. “We will get back to the house. Ellie will be at Tommy’s, all safe, and you will be with me. I won’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry.” Even murmured under your breath, the apology sounds just like the shadow of yourself that you had been for so long before Joel walked into Jackson and into your life. Apologizing for taking up space. For infringing on anyone else’s existence. For having the audacity to exist yourself.

“You got nothin’ to apologize for, beautiful girl.” If anything, he should apologize to you for not checking on that stranger. For exposing you to the terror of your past.

“Please don’t leave…” That thought is first and foremost in your head right now, barely even looking where you’re going through the sheet of shaky tears. You just can’t stomach the thought of losing Joel now, after so much. It would be like losing everything.

“Why would I leave?” He asks softly, aware that you are vulnerable and scared after seeing the specter of your nightmares. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of me, beautiful girl, I’m right here.”

There is a surge of it’s not fair slicing through the undercurrent of your thoughts, but more than not fair and more than scary, the situation is volatile. “He doesn’t know…” you remind Joel, clinging to his arm like the lifeline that it is. “Th—that—that I buried the baby.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Joel promises you quietly. “He’s not going to bother you, not gonna touch you.” He knows that Tommy will do what’s necessary to get the fucker gone from the community. Especially given what he knows was done to you.

“He’s going to try to.” Somewhere in the worst pit of your stomach, you know Aidan will try his hardest to get to the child he thinks you still have. Regardless of whose baby it biologically was, he had always viewed it as his. There had been weeks and months of taunting you over how that baby was going to be his control over you. So much so that you were actually a little grateful when he died. For his sake as much as your own.

“He’s leaving. We will make sure he’s gone.” Tommy will, because Joel isn’t going to leave your side. “You’re safe, sweet girl, I’m not going to let him even talk to you.” Fury floods his entire body, dark and brooding. Angry that this man has stolen the hard fought peace that you have started enjoying.

It doesn’t take long to get home with Joel hustling you along the street, even if you live outside of the main reaches of what could be considered downtown. You’re bundled into the house and stay next to Joel, watching him lock the doors and carefully walk through the house to assure you that you’re safe.

“We’re safe.” Joel promises you, stripping off the light jacket you had brought with you and rubbing your arms. He wants to kiss you, but is unsure if it might trigger some memories for you.

“I don’t know how he found me.” That’s the real question for you, and you’ve been rolling it over and over in your head since your head stopped spinning as badly.

“Don’t think he was expecting you to be here.” Joel didn’t miss the surprise and fury in the man’s face when he looked over at him. “Unhappy accident.”

“Fucking miserable accident,” you sigh, letting yourself slump forward into Joel’s arms for all the security and warmth that they provide.

“I know, beautiful girl.” Joel growls, shaking his head. “He’s stolen your smile, and I’m not going to allow that. He’s not going to interrupt your peace again.”

"I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight." It's bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit, the way ten seconds has stolen away (in Joel's words) a whole year of progress. "But I don't want you to not sleep on my account."

“You think I’m gonna sleep if you’re awake?” Joel would roll his eyes, but he knows you will just shut down even more. “No, beautiful girl, we can stay up together. Make sure that you are safe. And then, when he’s out of this town and out of our lives for good, we’ll sleep.”

"I'm sorry." The murmured apology is less for something you've done directly and more for the fact that you know this is affecting his life in a very distinct way now. A way that he would not have to worry about at all if not for you.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” He cups your cheek. Tilting your head up from where it’s looking down at the floor. Holding your chin is a no for you, but you don’t fight him. “Nothin’.” He repeats. “You want a hot bath? Soak? I can sit on the toilet seat while you do.”

"I just want to get in bed." Something about the vulnerability of being naked is too much to deal with right now and you shake your head slightly, hoping he will understand. "Can't exactly turn on the tv and zone out to a bad movie anymore." You wish you could, but because of that bastard you had to leave movie night.

“You want to change into your softest pajamas and then we can curl up?” Joel offers. “I can go into the bathroom and get you a glass of water while you change.”

"Stay with me?" The pajamas and curling up part sounds perfect, but you swallow thickly at the idea of him going anywhere. It's clingy, sure, but right now that's pretty fucking understandable. I don't...I don't think I can be alone."

“Always, beautiful girl.” Joel nods and he pushes the bedroom door almost closed after he steps back from you. Starting to shrug out of his jacket. “We’ll just pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist, hmm? Sound good to you?” He wishes he had some of the drugs he used to peddle in Boston, he would give you a few to calm you down if you wanted.

"Would you...mind talking to me?" The monologue in your head — all that noise that overtakes and overwhelms you with anxiety — quiets when Joel talks. Like your nerves are only willing to listen to him and him alone. "About anything. I just...it helps quiet all the angry thoughts."

“Sure, beautiful girl.” He’s dealt with this before, with Ellie after her run in with David, and he kicks off his shoes. “Thinkin’ I might take that council seat after all.” Tonight has been the deciding factor for him. “Have a say in who comes into this place. It’ll mean that some of the repairs will have to be done by Thompson, but he’s comin’ along. He’s not a complete idiot.”

"A town like this can't survive with just one good handyman." It's already better, just hearing him talk. The soothing cadence of Joel's voice sheds just a speck of anxiety everytime he opens his mouth and you remind yourself that you have to move. You're supposed to be changing your clothes to get ready for bed.

“Tommy’s better, but don’t tell him I said that.” His belt opens and he quickly unbuttons his jeans. “Man’s getting a little too cocky, strutting around here with that goofy grin of his.”

"He's happy." Tommy has a full life here. One that he reached out and took hold of with both hands and full determination. He has a wife and a baby and work that keeps him satisfied and busy. That's not the kind of thing he ever could have claimed about his life before Jackson. It's something to be proud of, and you're happy for your friend. Even if right now happy feels a million miles away.

“Yeah, he is.” It’s amazing to say, even more amazing to realize that his own feelings are pretty goddamn close to happy as well. At least until about twenty minutes ago. “What a loser.” He jokes, chuckling at his own lame joke. You have started undressing and he’s happy that you are focused on something else.

"Before tonight, I would have said we were happy, too." There is no lingering stroll across the room, or fully stripping down before completely redressing in your pajamas like usual. As soon as your regular shirt is off, the soft material of your sleep shirt replaces it. No sooner are jeans shed than warm sweatpants replace them. This is perfunctory, not an enjoyable and lazy night with your boyfriend.

“We are happy.” Joel soothes quietly. “Today is a bad day. Tomorrow might be too, but he’s not going to ruin our happiness, even if it takes a few steps back.” Joel sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as your fingers fumble with the edges of your shirt. “How do you want to cuddle, beautiful girl?” He asks. “You want me surrounding you? Or do you want to sprawl out on me?” He wants to give you as much control as possible right now, knowing how helpless you feel.

“I need you around me.” He really is your safe place. There is no doubt about that. But as you take a step toward him and the bed, the sounds of someone pounding on the front door downstairs ring through the brittle air.

Joel’s springing to his feet and frowning. Especially since you immediately look like you’re about to faint. “Go to the bathroom.” He tells you. “Lock the door.”

There are a lot of thing a in the world that you doubt — almost everything, really — but not Joel. Even though you feel frozen you manage to do what he tells you, grasping him in a tight hug before he closes the bathroom door for you beside your bedroom and you click the lock into place. Do you need him around you to feel safe and supported? Absolutely. But you’ve also learned to trust his instincts.

The hunting knife from the basement had been moved to his dresser and he grabs it before coming down the stairs. Listening to the pounding on the door as he crawls closer. On edge until he recognizes the silhouette of his brother.

The moment the door cracks open Joel sees the panic on Tommy’s face and his little brother smooths the hairs out of his face with one expressive hand. “Is she okay?” He asks immediately, your safety being top priority in this moment.

“She’s upset. But she’s fine.” Joel frowns, looking around. “Why are you here?”

The frown on Tommy’s lips is immediate, forehead creasing in apologetic embarrassment. “He’s—Stokes— he’s gone,” he admits quietly, just in case you’re nearby.

“He’s gone?” Joel frowns and steps outside. “What the fuck does that mean? You’ve already kicked him out?” It doesn’t seem like Tommy would be so upset by this fact so something’s not adding up.

“By the time I got back into the movie he had bolted,” Tommy explains, obviously pained to have to admit that he’s fucked up your safety. Or at least that he feels like it’s his fault. “Town council’s got people patrolling and staked out all over and the movie’s going ahead so nobody gets spooked.”

Joel reaches out and grabs the edges of Tommy’s jean jacket. “I’m going to kill him.” He growls to his brother. “When he’s caught, I’m going to ‘escort’ him out of town. Won’t do it here, but she’s nearly catatonic with panic.”

“If I find him first, I’m getting a few hits in for what he did to her,” his brother promises him. Tommy’s felt like an overprotective brother since the day he brought you into town. These days? He takes the job pretty literally.

“Shit.” Joel lets go of Tommy’s jacket and steps back into the opened door. “I need to— don’t tell her.” He warns him. “If he’s not caught right away. I can’t— we aren’t leavin’ this house.”

“It’ll only make her more scared to know he’s running around.” Tommy can absolutely agree to that, though he knows you might be upset with them later for not keeping you completely informed. The less fear and panic you feel, the better.

“I’m not gonna tell her, but I’m not gonna let her leave until I know that fucker is in ropes, ready to be lead to slaughter.” Joel frowns.

“Fair enough.” Considering Tommy has a knife in one pocket and a gun on his other hip, it’s fair to bet that he feels the same way. “I’m sorry, Joel. If I’d have been faster we coulda taken care of this easily. But we’ll get it sorted.” He’s ready to go — ready to join the patrol that is currently stalking the streets of Jackson — when he hears a sound in the basement.

Joel freezes, eyes narrowing as he listens. The second step from the bottom of the basement stairs creaks and it just made a sound. “He fucking— that bastard.” Joel hisses, spinning around and rushing towards the basement door.

The door makes a sickening crack when Joel throws it open, but Tommy is on his heels. The motherfucker followed them. He took a look at a happy and healthy and thriving woman and decided to ruin her again. He just didn’t bet on the fucking Miller brothers to be in his way.

Joel goes barreling down the stairs, lowering his shoulder at the figure that is about halfway up. Grunting when he connects with the body, Joel pushes off the stairs and launches both him and the motherfucker into the air.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” When he hits the ground he’s sure he hears something crack in his shoulder. The figure that flew at him is a blur and there’s more footsteps on the stairs that he can’t see the owner of through the fist headed straight for his face.

The first crack of a fist hitting bone is sharp, pain blooming in his fist and radiating up his arm, but Joel barely registers it. Fury numbing him to the pain and adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Fucker.”

“What—fuck—what the fuck?!” Putting up his arms to cover his face and thinking fast, he tries to pull away and keep from getting his face ruined.

"Break into my house." Joel growls furiously, pulling his fist back again and letting it fly. "Looking for her."

“Looking for my baby!” It’s the sympathy vote. Banking on shame and embarrassment and not being willing to tell the entire story to worm his way through the details. The sob story is his best chance of not getting his face beat in.

Joel knows what the man is doing. He had heard the same sad excuses used by others once upon a time when he was less than scrupulous. Not that he's an upstanding citizen now, but this is personal. "Didn't knock." Joel points out as he grabs the man's jacket and hauls him up so that the single light from a bare bulb illuminates your tormentor's face and gives his own a dark, foreboding, shadow as he glares down at him. "Big mistake." He grunts right before punching him again.

“Wait—wait!” Kicking his legs and barely managing to throw the next blow, the descent of another assailant at the bottom of the stairs and another fist comes out of nowhere along with a pained scream.

“Why are you here?” Joel roars, gripping the man with both hands and shaking him like a rag doll, furious that he would dare break in to harm you.

“For my baby!” He tries again, mind not really working hard on a new excuse when he’s trying to fend off now two grown men apparently intent on beating the shit out of him.

“There is no baby.” From the top of the stairs, your voice cuts through the din — shaky but loud enough to be heard.

Joel’s head twists around and he stares at the black figure at the top of the stairs. “We have him.” He pants, keeping the iron grip on the man who had tortured you and makes him hiss in pain when he grabs his hair and yanks his head back for you to see his already battered face. He knows it pains you to admit your son is gone, but he’s concentrating on your safety.

“I can see that.” The click of metal comes before you step down the stairs, Joel’s gun held out in front of you with a surprisingly steady hand. “I could hear it from upstairs.”

“You don’t have to be around him.” Joel promises you, keeping an eye on you as you descend the stairs with the gun in your hand. He knows you won’t shoot him, but you could drop the revolver.

From catatonic with fear to oddly quiet and resolute, your entire mood has changed in the mere minutes that Joel has been gone. It was the idea that he could hurt Joel that changed everything. That the happiness that you’ve fought so hard for here in Jackson could be taken by the same man who stole your entire sense of self for so long. That isn’t going to happen. “He’s in our house,” you remind Joel flatly. As if to say that makes him both our problem.

“Our house?” The man on the ground has the audacity to sneer the question. Making Joel hiss. “Managed to get your hooks into this one already? Knew you were a slut.”

Joel growls, turning around and slamming the man into the concrete so his head bounces few good times before yanking him up again. “Shut the fuck up before I rip your goddamn tongue out.” He warns darkly.

“Why are you here, Aidan?” Making no mistake about the action, you very deliberately aim the revolver at his chest and put your thumb on the hammer.

“I’m— they brought me here!” He cries, eyes widening and darting back to look at the two men who are towering over him. He hadn’t thought you would be protected like this when he broke in. “Not for you! Why would I want a whore like you?” He shakes his head, addressing Tommy and Joel. “She’s—don’t know how many men she’s fucked here, but she was in Chicago with us—my group. She spread her legs for anyone.” He lies desperately.

Carefully cocking the revolver is the sound that cuts through Aidan’s bullshit, and Tommy is staring at you in completely silent wonder as he and Joel hold tight to your attacker. “I know why you’re in Jackson, asshole. I’m asking why you’re in my basement.”

“I don’t—I didn’t—you bit—” the comment is cut off by a howl of anguish, his body jerking.

Joel has just driven his hunting knife into the meaty flesh of his thigh above his knee. “Fucking lie to her and I’ll pop your kneecap off like a pimple.”

It turns out that under the layers of fear and the layers of trauma, it’s protecting your family that is what brings out the deadliest tendencies in you. Thinking about what could have happened if Ellie or the baby were here? It snapped you out of all that terror faster than blinking. “One more time. Why are you here?”

Sobbing, Aidan isn’t nearly as powerful as he had been in Chicago. He had assumed this little town was his ticket to safety, to shelter. Until he had seen you and immediately decided that he would use you to solidify his position here in this place. He had been warned by the council that if it didn’t work out he would be taken out into the wilderness and left. “For you. You’re mine.” He tells you, looking at you with a pitiful, pleading expression. “I love you, baby. And you swore you would always love me.”

“He told you not to lie to me.” Surprising to everyone including yourself, you step forward and finally come off the bottom step to stand on the basement floor. “I don’t belong to you and I don’t love you and everybody in this room knows what you and your cronies did to me so don’t fucking lie about it.”

“I can’t go back out there.” Aidan confesses, grimacing in pain and trying not to move too much because of the knife embedded in his thigh. “I won’t— I can’t be out there. You can make it to where I can stay.”

At the idea that you would help him in any way, you actually laugh out loud. “You’re not going back out there,” you promise him with dark surety. “But that’s mostly because you’re not leaving this basement. If I don’t kill you?” You nod to Joel, knowing full well that you’re being honest. “He will.”

“You were a dead man the moment I found out who you were.” Joel growls honestly. Even if the town council had let him go, Joel would have tracked him down. Wanting to make sure that there was no way he could ever show back up in your life.

“So the only thing you get to decide is how fast you die.” With the revolver still in your hand, you raise your arm to point it at his head instead of at his chest where there is too much chance of hitting something that will only wound but not kill him. “I can do this quickly. Or I can let him tear you apart.” The nod to Joel is understood, but for some reason you can’t stomach the idea of Aidan Stokes knowing anything about your happy life. Not even Joel’s name.

Joel watches you for a moment and then lets Aidan go, straightening up and stepping back. He wont stop you if this is what you want to. It’s your right, your fucking right to end this piece of shit if you want.

“Fast or slow, Aidan?” Not that you were given a choice in how you were tortured. Or your son was given a choice in how long he lived. Not that Joel was given a choice in keeping Sarah. Not that Aidan will truly get to choose, either. You’ve already made up your mind what will happen to him.

“Babe...please.” Aidan shakes his head. “You don’t— this isn’t you. You love me.” He protests.

“It’s the person you made me.” You tell him flatly, before carefully holding the gun out to Joel. “However you want to do it,” you tell him flatly, before turning and taking Tommy’s arm to leave the basement. The truth is that you aren’t sure you could pull the trigger, even after everything you’ve been through. But you sure as hell never want him touching another living being ever again.

Joel smirks, a dark look in his eyes and Tommy swallows. He knows what Joel is capable of when he wants to be vicious. “Do you want to watch, beautiful girl?” His voice is soft. Deceptively so.

“No.” In the back of your mind you know that Joel will hold back if you are here, and that is a mercy that Aidan doesn’t deserve. “We’re going to sit upstairs. Come up when you’re done.” There will be more work to do at that point. There will be cleaning and disposal of a body you intend to spit on once it’s in the ground.

“Baby, wait.” Aidan’s panicked voice is laughing nervously. “You don’t mean that. It’s not funny, tell him you’re joking.” He begs. “Tell him you’re joking!”

You stop on the second step, the one that squeaks and now you don’t think you ever want Joel to repair it. With a drawn face and nothing but hardness in your eyes, you turn and shake your head at the man who has tortured you in so many different ways for years. “Rot in hell, Aidan.”

“Baby…baby…” his voices rises in panic and his eyes widen, scrambling to his feet and groaning at the wound in his leg. “Baby, don’t go! Don’t do this!” Joel lifts his foot and plants it in the middle of Aidan’s chest to kick him back down.

The last sounds he gets from you is the definite thumping of your heels on the ground floor and the slamming shut of the basement door followed by the click of the lock that holds it in place. Of course there is a mechanism on the other side so it can be opened by anyone downstairs as well, but it's the principle of the thing. That his fate has been sealed, and by you.

“You should leave now.” Joel tells Tommy seriously. What he’s about to do might get him in serious trouble with the town council and he doesn’t want to fuck things up for his younger brother. He’s got Maria and the baby to think about. If Joel gets kick out of Jackson, you can come with him.

Tommy doesn't say anything, but only nods and hustles up the stairs after you. He unlocks the door to let himself out into the kitchen then locks it again behind him, unsure of the state he'll find you in.

All the emotion you have is basically tied up in exhaustion, which has you leaning against the kitchen counter when Tommy appears. Whatever Joel is going to do downstairs is up to him. But whatever it is, you sincerely hope it causes the man who hurt you as much pain as absolutely possible on his way out of this life.

The sounds start almost immediately. The dull thwack of something hitting something soft, followed by a muffled cry. Repeated in a symphony of motion that could almost have a rhythm until it pauses. Followed by a low murmur and a vicious howl of agony.

“Self defense,” you murmur a few seconds later, looking up at Tommy. “He broke into our house. Joel had to act in self-defense.” The council will ask questions. You know that. But you aren’t about to let anything happen to Joel as a result of what just happened downstairs. If need be, you will stand in front of the town’s leadership and tell them exactly what he did to you in excruciating detail. They won’t argue after that.

“I’ll tell ‘em the same thing.” Tommy immediately agrees. “After all, he did break in.” He steps closer to you, a frown on his face pulling his mustache down. “How are you holdin’ up? I know— honey, I’m so goddamn sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have. It’s not like I showed you his picture or anything.” You’re definitely not doing well, but you’re doing better than you thought you would be with all things considered.

“I should have asked more questions.” Tommy shakes his head and is still going to blame himself. A high pitched squeal comes from the basement door and he looks over at it knowingly.

“That assumes that he would have given honest answers.” You shake your head and pour two short glasses of water, offering one to Tommy and sipping the other for yourself. The antique clock nearby reads almost one in the morning and you frown at it, shaking your head. “It’s over now. Joel is finishing the job and I can start to sleep a little bit deeper at night.”

The low moan of pain is almost animalistic, long and drawn out, is almost cut off with a wet gurgle. Tommy shifts, almost visualizing what Joel is doing to cause that sound.

“He deserves it,” you remind Tommy, who fidgets at the sounds coming from the basement. “I’m just glad Ellie is at your house. She shouldn’t have to hear any of this.”

“I know he deserves it.” Tommy nods. “I just know what Joel is doing based on the sounds.” He admits. “There was a time that we…weren’t the best people.”

“I know.” Joel has told you some of his own past. Nothing too graphic, but enough that you had a very solid idea of what he is capable of. “That’s why I know he’ll finish the job when I don’t think I could.”

“I think you would have.” Tommy argues. “You looked like you would have pulled the trigger right then when you came down those stairs.”

You nod, thinking perhaps you might really have done it right there in the beginning. But you’ll never know. “There’s no guarantee that my aim would have been good enough to kill him.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Tommy snorts. “It’s amazing what can happen when the people you love are threatened.” As if agreeing, another sound comes from the basement.

The clock draws your eye again, and you glance out the window up at the moon before looking back at Tommy. “It’s his birthday,” you tell him quietly. “The baby’s. He should be one today.”

Tommy bites his lip and nods, understanding that this is a bittersweet day for you. “Then it’s just that it’s today that bastard draws his last breath.”

"They always say babies look like their father, but he didn't. He looked like me." At least you could be grateful for that, if nothing else. "It's a small mercy."

“He was beautiful then.” Tommy tells you quietly, patting your shoulder and wondering if you wanted a hug. “Inside and out.”

“Thank you.” It’s enough that Tommy is kind. That you have come to know and to trust him as a brother over the last year. It’s enough that he’s here and he’s supportive. Even if being supportive just means standing with you in silence while Joel finishes what needs to be finished downstairs.

Slowly, footsteps sound on the stairs. Not a thudding, heavy trod, but weary. Stopping at the top and there’s a small knock, just one rap of a knuckle against the wood.

You make it to the door before Tommy does, flipping the lock and pulling it open to reveal Joel on the top step with more than a little blood on him.

The vicious fire is gone, extinguished from his eyes and replaced with a weary sense of peace. He doesn’t reach for you, aware that you could be repulsed by the sight of him. “It’s done.” He sighs out. “He’ll never fuckin’ bother you again.”

There is no blood on his face somehow, no remnant there of the work he’s done besides the sweat on his forehead, and you kiss him softly before stepping back. “Go wash up, love. Tommy and I will take care of things from here, and then I’ll come to bed. Is that okay?”

Joel’s eyes slide over to Tommy and he silently communicates with him. “That’s fine, beautiful girl.”

******

It’s hours later when you fulfill that promise, dragging yourself up into your bedroom in the black of night to find Joel sitting up in bed staring at the wall. “I’ll wash,” you tell him wearily, the adrenaline of fear and finality having dissipated into the night. Now you’re just bone tired.

Joel nods. “I’ll run you a bath.” He moves slowly, groaning as he gets up from the bed and shuffles towards the bathroom. His hand is broken, fractured in several places and it will be a bitch to work for the next several weeks, but he doesn’t care. As long as you are safe, he will shoulder any pain.

“I—” In the doorway of the bathroom you pause, sunken shoulders and drawn face returning you to the sad, guilty version of yourself that you so often are when thoughts or even conversation turns to the topic of your past. It hangs in the air tonight like a heavy fog. “I’m sorry. For asking you to do that. But when I got downstairs I realized that I couldn’t pull the trigger, I just…I knew that you could.”

Joel frowns when he turns from the edge of the tub, reaching for the faucet to turn it on. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He grunts quietly, shaking his head. “Come here, beautiful girl.”

“Asking you to kill for me seems like it warrants an apology,” you point out, though you willingly let him draw you into his chest without hesitation. The whole night was meant to be relaxed and rejuvenating and it had turned into hell.

“I would kill for you a hundred more times.” Joel huffs quietly. “I was afraid.” He admits. “Afraid that you would be afraid of me after seeing the aftermath.”

“Afraid of my knight returning from battle?” You shake your head against his chest and inhale the comforting scent of clean Joel. “I owe you everything. Hell…I wanted to give you everything anyway.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.” Joel huffs, relaxing against you and slipping his arms around your back. You seem crave the shelter of him right now, so he won’t even ask if you are comfortable. “I love you. I—you are perfect.”

“No I’m not.” It’s not even self deprecating, but you look up at him with a serious expression, arms tight around his waist. “But as long as we’re the right kind of imperfect for each other, I’m okay with that.”

“Let me take care of you, beautiful girl.” He murmurs softly. “I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

******

The next summer is sunny and hot, giving you an excuse to wear all of the cute dresses that you had made for yourself from scraps and hand-me-downs over your time in Jackson. Today is definitely not the day for scraps, though. Today you have possibly the nicest dress you have ever made for yourself. The soft yellow fabric is embroidered with flowers that match the crown of wildflowers that Dina helped you weave for your hair, and even though your belly is now big enough to be in the way more often than not, you feel like you’ve finally earned the name that Joel has been calling you since the very first night you went to the movies together more than a year ago. Tommy is with Joel and Ellie over at your house this morning while you’re getting ready for the day with Maria and cooing over the toddler that she and Tommy have devoted all of their time and love to. It’s a very big day. One that is both a long time coming and feels like it came at you faster that lightning.

“Too goddamn old for this.” Joel grumbles, running his hand over his surprisingly smooth cheek. The barber had offered a shave to go with the haircut this morning and he had decided to just leave a mustache. Tommy snickers and his older brother stops his pacing long enough to glower at him. “I’m fucking fifty-eight years old, about to get married and have a baby.” He’s not upset, he’s nervous, afraid of fucking it up. Wanting the hard fought for happiness that seems to be everyday life now.

“Nobody told you to propose, old man,” Tommy teases, getting a fist bump from Ellie for his effort.

Joel huffs and shakes his head. “What kinda man would I be if I didn’t?” He asks. “It’s my baby.”

“That’s Dad that I hear in there.” Still, Tommy can’t judge too much — and he isn’t, not really — since he did the same thing. “We’re damn lucky to have these women and we know it. We gotta keep them close.”

“Still can’t believe it.” Once the dragon of your nightmares had been slayed in real life, you had blossomed. It was like you had still been living with the subconscious fear that Aidan would find you. Now that he had been unceremoniously burned, his ashes buried, that weight had fallen off of you and very naturally, you had eased into a physical intimacy with Joel. It happened the first time. One time inside you and he had gotten you pregnant.

"You act like you didn't know where babies come from. Or forgot." Ellie is kicked back in the living room of the house in a full suit and tie with her boots all cleaned and shined for the occasion. Since Tommy is going to be the one to actually marry you on behalf of the Town Council, she's standing up as Joel's Best Person. "Do we need to draw you a diagram, old man?"

“Listen, brat—” Joel points his finger at the teenager. “Just because you can’t get pregnant with Dina, doesn’t mean you can get cocky.” He raises a brow. “Or should I make it a rule you gotta keep your door open when she’s over?”

"You wouldn't?!" That has her drawing back immediately, wide eyed and extremely displeased with the idea of not having privacy with her girlfriend.

“Mmmmhmmm.” He chuckles and straightens back up, pleased to have made his point, even if he was only teasing. “Now I just get to worry about everything all over again.”

"You've got help this time." While he's not proud of it, Tommy knows he wasn't a hugely helpful part of raising Sarah. He'd done what he could back then but he just had no idea how to be anything besides a playmate. Now, with a young child of his own, he's prepared to be a fully functioning extra pair of hands should you and Joel need the help.

"Uncle Tommy and Big Sister Ellie." The teen plants her fists on her hips and grins. "What could possibly go wrong?"

“God help us all.” Joel huffs, even though he’s extremely pleased with the sentiment. “You think she’s ready yet?” He asks, glancing at the clock impatiently. “Damn woman wanted to wait to get married, and she’s about to pop.”

"Just as long as she doesn't go into labor at the reception," Tommy jokes, shaking his head. That had happened one of his old Army buddies way back when.

“Oh fuck.” Joel’s eyes widen at the possibility.

“Christ, Tommy,” Ellie groans, throwing a pillow at the younger Miller. “Don’t get him all freaked out.”

“Doc Sanchez is gonna be there, right?” He asks Tommy, ignoring the eye rolling. Most of the damn town is going to be at the second ever Jackson wedding, both of them ironically Millers, but he has to be sure.

“The whole ass town is going to be there.” Tommy hoists himself out of his seat to try to soothe his brother. Joel wants this, he’s just nervous as all hell. “But yes, Doc Sanchez will be there.”

“Good.” Joel blows out a breath and grins, a halfcocked thing that lights up his face and makes him look younger, softer. “Fuck, I’m getting married.”

“How you found two different women willing to put up with your shit forever, I’ll never know.” He pats his brother on the shoulder, but Tommy is grinning too. He knows how much you and Joel love each other, and how you’ve eased the stings and bruises of each other’s pasts.

“Don’t know, but I’m lucky.” Joel admits easily. You know about his past with Tess and don’t feel jealous of it, which he is grateful for.

“It’s almost time.” Ellie points at the clock on the mantle and hops to her feet, ready to snap the straps on her suspenders if she was wearing any.

The wedding is supposed to be simple, but it doesn’t feel that way. His heart is in his throat and he remembers another wedding, a lifetime ago, and he knows it will be better than that one. He never regretted being with his ex-wife, because he had Sarah, but he knows he will be a better partner, husband, and hopefully father this time around. He’s getting a second chance at life and he’s not going to take it for granted. “Let’s go get me married.”

******

The wedding was supposed to be simple, but it didn’t end up feeling that way. The flowers cut by neighbors and friends from their gardens, the food cooked and delivered from kitchens all around town, and the few musically inclined folks coming together to make a band all mean that this morning at town hall felt like the most exquisite frontier wedding you could ever ask for, and now that the reception is in full swing it’s probably the biggest party that Jackson’s seen since well before the world ended. Mr. and Mrs. Miller pronounces the hand drawn sign on the little table where you and Joel are sitting, eating your lunch and watching people move to and fro filling their plates and saying their hellos. In time you’ll start the dancing, but for now the first one to get their boogie on is the peanut you’ve been carrying around for the last eight months.

You grimace slightly and Joel is immediately turning towards you. The wedding band on his finger feels foreign but he ignores the way it catches the light as he reaches out to touch your stomach. Feeling the baby has been unlimited for him, although your days of not wanting to be touched are becoming few and far between. “Are you okay, beautiful girl?” He asks quietly, trying to alarm anyone, including himself.

“The baby’s dancing on every organ he can find,” you joke, having been certain for months now that you’re having another boy. You don’t really know how you know. You’re just completely certain.

He manages to crack a grin, something frequent that happens when he’s feeling the baby pound against his palm through your uterus. “Wants to dance, feelin’ a little left out in there.” He murmurs softly, looking up into your eyes.

“You’ve still got a little baking left to do in that oven, buddy,” you murmur, smoothing your hand over your belly and laughing when that only seems to illicit more activity. “Just let us have today, sweet boy. That’s all we ask.”

He hopes that this baby brings you the joy you had missed with your last child. He has worked tirelessly to make sure that your every need has been taken care of and you can have the least stressful pregnancy at the end of the world as possible.

“Are you happy we did this, love?” You ask, covering his hand with yours over your belly. Technically it was Joel’s idea to get married, telling you that he’s just old fashioned enough that if you were going to make a family together that he wanted you to be a family in that traditional way. You’d even gone through the trouble of making a set of formal adoption papers to say that Ellie was officially your daughter.

“Of course I am.” Even with all the nerves and worries that he holds on his shoulders, he doesn’t regret this. He knows you are safe and if something ever happens to him, Tommy and Ellie and all the citizens of Jackson will help you and protect you. “How about you, beautiful girl? You happy to be the second Mrs. Miller in town?”

“If we’re going by Victorian rules, I’m the Mrs. Miller and Maria is considered second. Perks of marrying the older brother.” It’s dumb, though, and you know it just comes from too many period dramas back in your teens. “Of course I’m happy, love. This is…honestly? It’s not the way my dreams happened when I was younger but all the boxes are perfectly checked. And you’re even better than any of the guys I imagined way back then.”

He huffs out a small laugh and wonders what kind of man you had originally thought about. “Well, I hope that it continues to be what you want. If it’s not, you give me hell and I’ll change what needs changing.”

“Same for you.” You acknowledge seriously, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Nothing is really ever perfect, so if something needs fixing, we fix it. Together.”

“Together.” Joel nods, smiling down at the bump and then up at you. Ellie’s laughter catches his attention and he watches as the girl who had brought him to Jackson dances with Dina, beaming at her girlfriend as she holds her close. The journey to this moment had been full of anger, heartbreak, tears and loss, but right now the future for Joel and his little family looks bright.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

N2N: @missladym1981, @orcasoul

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #ptsd #assault survivor #dead dove #do not eat #dead dove do not eat

155 notes · View notes

comicaurora · 1 year

Note

absolutely adore this guy in the background of the latest page. just a dude. makin his way downtown. givin em the ol razzle dazzle. he looks like the autism creature but for adhd.

he's just a little guy doin a bit stremch

#asks #aurora

364 notes · View notes

cupidscrule · 4 months

Text

OLD ENOUGH 2 DIE

Re4 Leon X Fem! Reader

Tw - drug trafficking

P in v, finger stuff

You were a spoiled bitch, had daddy's money to take care of anything.

"Daddy - pleasee com'on It's only 2k, can you transfer the money? Yay! Thank you daddy mwah"

Spoken into the brand new phone you got, you had money, had everything. Never went a day without living like a queen, never understanding poor people 'ugh why can't you just work harder? Honestly it's not that hard ' said to thousands of waiters at 5 star restaurants. Never even tipped em, throughout high school you were a dick to everyone, if they weren't hot and skinny. Classic mean girl to be honest

"Hunny, absolutely not. We can all tell that bag is a fake, it's embarrassing.. you should honestly thank me for telling you how stupid you look.."

"Oh! That's not.."

"Babes, you know I want the best for you so.. that dress really makes you look fat, maybe wear something more flattering?"

Backhanded comments were your LIFE, had every privilege, didn't even try in school. Just sucked and fucked your way to A's, but you were hot so it's fine! It doesn't matter if the pretty girl makes the slug kill herself? She's all innocent, everyone who tried to defend you was hilarious. "Oh she's just insecure!!" Bullshit, no you weren't? You just hated all those chicks. Rightfully so, they were all annoying whores.

You were just treating them how they deserved to be, not like any of them had a future besides sucking dick.. you're different though, that's what you always told yourself. Sure you dressed like a skimpy bimbo, fucked the sports team twice. But you're different, an exception to the slut rule..

"Daddy can you send me an Uber? I don't have enough money in my account. Dad I said I spent it all shopping- no dad please- it's gonna be night soon, I NEED an Uber. Daddy? UGH" stomping your feet, making your own little hissy fit in the middle of the street, clutching the little pink fur purse you bought, looking around at all the people staring at you. Pout on your face and brows furrowed, throwing your phone on the ground and walking away, you were a good half hour away from home, and these boots were NOT made for walking. They were brand new plus, wouldn't wanna ruin em. And to top it all off it was freezing cold, like -15C. All you had was a white fur coat belted around your waist, with stupid little ear muffs. Couldn't even find matching gloves, freezing cold at Six PM alone on a Friday night, with no phone .. what a perfect day!

Stomping off not really knowin' where you're going isn't that smart though, but you were never a smart kid. Never did drugs or anything like that, just not very smart in the real world. Couldn't read signs, or fight, or have basic common courtesy. Shuffling your feet through the snow for god knows how long till tik street lights flicker on. By this point you got no clue where you are, started off downtown now you were in the middle of fucktown with nothing you recognize, see this is why daddy should've moved to a smaller town after The business deal, that way cops wouldn't be on his ass and you would know where you're going. Sure DC was the place to be! Except for the fact it's the stupidest place to be if your main source of income is drug trafficking, you didn't care where daddy got his money as long as you got it in the end. But what you did care about is when daddy refused to be smart about his shit. Like what are you on if you think moving to Washington is a good idea after makin' a major deal, you're dad was important. He was wanted for a lot. But you didn't do anything wrong, you're innocent! So you never cared about what would happen if dear old dad got caught, he could buy himself out of trouble just like before.

Still aimlessly walking up and down the streets trying to find anything identifiable when you hear footsteps behind you.

Turning your head to see who's behind you, and it's a taller man with blonde hair, it's getting dark so there's not that many details. He's wearing really weird clothes, just staring at you, his eyes narrow and look at your face in the flickering lights before opening his dumb mouth

"Listen, we can make this easy kid. Just come with me back-" he started speaking, stepping towards you. Immediate nope, fuck that, the police actually caught the hell on? AND THEY WENT AFTER YOU? Worst day ever, dropping your bag and making a run for it just like daddy said.

"Sweetie, if the cops ever find you, and are onto you. Run. And run far."

Never actually thought what that old sack of shit said mattered, I mean nothing bad ever happens to you.

Running around corners, frantically, heart racing, why, why, why, why. You had NOTHING to do with daddies private shit, if anything you're a victim to his crimes.. yeah victim! I mean dad was a creep sometimes, huggin' a bit too tight, grabbing your ass like you were his girlfriend. Even though mom was dead for a long time, he never got over her and I guess you looked closest to her?

Running into an alley way, like any smart fucken girl would, totally. There was a chain link fence, then what looked like a field leading to someone's apartment building? Pretty sure someone from school lives there, yeah Milo in Chem 100% does he's the welfare kid and this was the poor side of town. Bingo.

"Ah- not so fast"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Don't even reply, no don't reply, you have about five fucking seconds before getting dragged away and everything taken away. Pathetically trying to pull yourself over the fence, y'know if you really tried you could do it. But you don't try. Feeling a hand grab your ankle, pull you down ripping your cute coat, if you're gonna kidnap a girl at least keep her shit nice damn. He throws you down, trying to scramble up only to get immediately knocked out and your unconscious body dragged away.

"fuck" you mutter under your breath, opening your eyes drowsy, vision kinda blurry but you can see everything, trying to move your hands and legs but then feeling the rough rope press against your sensitive skin, looked like you were an old ass storage unit, some boxes piled up in the corner, walls looked rusty. A table in the middle of the small room, and a guy just standing there. Few seconds later lights flicker on, they're dim but you can now see detail in everything. That includes your unknown kidnapper? Or agent? Or cop? He wasn't really dressed like any of them, wore a dark blue t shirt,tactical black pants, and black gloves. Not sure what profession of people wear that, plus he was too cute to just be a random kidnapper, pretty blonde hair with gorgeous blue eyes and a muscular figure.

"Oh you're awake, huh thought that would've taken longer." He says eyes darting towards you as you try to wiggle out of the rope, it's tight. "Who the fuck are you? Where's my dad! Do you even know who I am?" You say acting as if your dad was a fucken celebrity and not a filthy pig. You knew you were in a deep fucken mess, so when in doubt, lie. Lie about everything, you're innocent, no Mr. officer my father would never! You have the wrong girl I'm just a highschooler !

"Don't play dumb missy, cut the shit. Let's get to the point, I know your dear old dad is involved with a lot. And so are you, aren't you? So why don't you tell me where dad does all his importing and where he gets the shit from, hm?" He says coldly, almost as if he's talkin' to a little kid. "I don't know what you're talking about. Just let me go!" You whine staring up at him, he's just standing infront of you arms crossed over his chest, getting a better look at him, he wasn't just a random guy, he looked important. Didn't know why though, a sigh comes from his lips as he blinks slowly at you, "honey, I really don't wanna get messy. Just hand over the information and you can go back to doin' whatcha do, I don't care." He said, arms still folded over his chest, he was a good fifteenth-ish feet away from you and your chair, you grit you teeth, brows furrowed as you stare at this guy. Pissed off, "don't call me honey, I told you I don't know what you're talkin' about." You mutter to him, pout on your stupid lips.

"You're a bad actor, it's really obviously. Plus you're on file, darling. Now can you just tell me the important stuff?" He said putting on an obvious fake begging face, puppy eyes and all. You were trying to get untied, only getting rope burns on your wrists, squirming and whimpering in that tiny wood chair. "I didn't do anything, I don't know what daddy does to get money.. talk to him not me" you say batting your lashes, pushing your face out towards him, he takes another step forward. Putting his arms down, lookin' at you like you were some thing he found on the bottom of his shoe. "You have the face of a pornstar" he says out of the fucking blue, such a handsome voice but such a shocking thing. "I'm in highschool, pig." You scrowl jaw clenched, tone change from 'inccocent little girl' to 'raging bitch.' like a public appearance vs how you act in private. "Mm, well you're eighteen now correct? Nothing's wrong with that now is it? And it's just a fact, you've fucked and sucked your way up. No way someone like you is about to pass, in truth you're a pathetic attempt at human and a failure of whatever we can even call your sorry ass. But at least you make up with it for a massive rack and cute face"

Ouch. Okay.

Words didn't even form, jaw dropped, eyes shocked. Honestly not even knowing what to say, what do you say to that? 'oh yes sorry Mr man you're right I'm a dirty slut!" Absolutely not, because you aren't. "So, you gonna answer me?" He says, he's just a few feet away from you, leaning down to your whiny ass face. A small smirk on his dumb lips,

"fuck. you."

He just looked blankly, at you, almost dumbfounded by how much of a fucking MORAN you were, tied up in small place, no one knows where you are, daddies house is probobly getting raided and he's waiting in jail or has twenty bullets through his back while you're agonizing this man five times your size whom you are at HIS mercy. But hey, it could be worse. He could've killed ya already, he obviously needs you alive. So you're safe, for now. He cups your chin making you look at him directly

"You're such a dumb whore." He whispers letting you go, can't lie he's hot, feeling a throb in your legs, lump in your throat and pushing your thighs together, dumb little slut. Just fuck my brains out already oh my god.

"Seriously? Getting horny in an integration, fuck little missy you really are a freak." He says laughing to himself looking at your pathetic bitch display, all dumb n needy, breath rasp and heavy, feeling an emptiness only filled by fat dick, staring at the man, didn't even know his name, never told ya. He gets close up again and sticks to fingers in your mouth, pushing them back. Your tounge running around them, sucking, like a good little fuck doll. Sloppy and all wet, pulling his index and middle finger out your mouth saliva dripping off of it, stupid ass smirk on his face rubbing his fingers down your chest, over your pretty white shirt and over your tits. You're still bound to the chair, wanting nothin' more then to get bent over and fucked till you can't even remember daddies in trouble, this entire moment is just pure lust. He gives you the look like, 'is this what you really want? Seriously?' and of course you reply with a

"I'll answer you if you give me what I want."

That's all it took for him to untie you from that god forsaken chair, just to tie your hands together again. Push you onto your back, pressing your thighs apart. You aren't wearing much, your coat was gone lost somewhere in the ally, only wearing black shorts and a white top. Stupid for the middle of winter but it was hot. He takes out a small switch blade from his pocket cutting open your shirt and shorts off, pornstar tits popping out in a little pink bra also exposing the matching panties. Even all finished off with a cute little bow, unzipping his pants his dick springs out, your pussy THROBBING, aching. He cuts the shit off and pushes you firmly on the ground, your arms still bound above your head, his chest just over yours pushing into you, stretching you open. His tip resting nicely in your cervix when he starts rockin' back and forth. Hitting you all the good spots, moaning n' a mess, hes pretty much silent groaning here and there when he speeds up, lifting you up slightly, more like your at an angel on him, he grips your back and rocks you back and forth, feeling your walls tighten around him feeling all numb and high, cumming over his fat cock, his pull out games fast. Just as you finish he pushes you back on your neck and unloads on your stupid face, 'before grabbing you lazily and pressing your body against his, you were all dumb and covered in your own mess. But he was gentle with you, soft, he was nice. Nicer then anyone else had been, softer then anyone else despite fucking your brains out. His breath was heavy as he held onto you, chest to chest. Can't tell if he's doing' this cause he feels some sort of pity for you but fuck if you care it's comforting, you felt all warm and fuzzy. Weird.

"Please don't leave me here."

"I know you're eighteen, years old, but you're still old enough to die. Right here. Right now. So talk"

71 notes · View notes

toby-du-coeur · 1 month

Text

tdc liveblog p7 - my only regret is that i have but one death to cure for my sinister government organisation

masterpost

hard not to empathise with teresa during this part because like.. she's being A Good Doctor and doing what a doctor is supposed to do

wth is that, are we jesus on the cross w the frickin vinegar sponge, what happened to the lil gauze square

see how fast that worked?? and this wasn't even Cure Blood. thomas' blood on the knife should've - in this essay i will -

the way hes just hustling 😂😂 makin my way downtown

her w the v neck and him with his everpresent turtleneck, also the white & black. something about.. her heart being more open while his is covered and shriveled away? also obviously that WCKD uses a very black-and-white view of the world 😉

average fail parents talkin about how they've variously fucked up their kids

they sure predicted that some people just Do Not Wanna Wear Masks 😂

lil newtie like something something furthest i've ever been from home mr frodo also how cozy is gally in his knit hoodie 🥰 with his hands in his pocketses

empires rise, oceans fall, quack medicine abides 😂 also,, alcohol? or overpriced water? both of the above

why the japanese? i find it hard to believe japan isn't just chillin 😂 my friend & japanese translator says it says 'tanaka' somethin, 'trading company' i imagine bc that's the english below

he can use glader slang for the first time in months & months :')

oooohh the electric lights contrasted w the campfires outside the city

hes rubbing his arm 😭😭

yorick its you again 🥹

oh that is a FIGHTING face

#from the heart #maze runner #tmr movies #liveblog #the death cure #tdc #maze runner memes #tmr memes #memerey tmr

35 notes · View notes

befuddled-calico-whump · 3 months

Note

can you draw merman jericho trying to escape but since he can't get his tail restraints off he has to crawl?

makin' his way downtown

#flopping faster than you'd expect #more comical in execution skdhfjg #anon #fuck it we draw like romans

20 notes · View notes

cookingforsatoru · 1 year

Note

beauty and the beat by justin bieber would look good in you're rindou drabbleess!!

↪ featuring ; Rindou haitani x Fem!reader

↪ summary ; you were in a club where bonten would always go, but The Younger Haitani has his eyes on you.

↪ warnings ; cursing, slight nsfw, mentions of killing.

"Good Evening, Gentlemen! Please take a seat, we reserved this just for you guys!"

the waiter led the 3 Guys into the VIP seats and gave them their usual orders.

sanzu, ran, and rindou would always just talk bout ladies they wanted to fuck. or bout them planning how to (get Koko's credit card) get Mikey's attention and beg him to stop giving them assignments due so early.

'' is manifesting real? I need to get someone killed by Thursday"

the pink-haired man said getting really curios about that question

"We need to try, boss isn't giving us extensions." the older haitani said

a few minutes later they noticed rindou, not listening to their conversation and looking at a girl, dancing in the midst of the crowds.

"Someone got my baby's attention, huh."

"must be a lucky girl"

the two exclaimed, then the song "beauty and a beat" started.

the younger haitani smiled, so wide. for the first fucking time!

"lemme see the girl, rin! she's makin' you smile like crazy"

"there. see her?"

"oooh fuck, she is one of a kind"

"she is. I saw her in the cafeteria downtown once, twice? she's kind, sweet, n' everything. really"

"then go talk to her." his brother said wiht a wide smile, first time seeing his brother go crazy about a girl.

really changes him, so much.

rindou agreed and stood up, since he also wanted to get the girl's attention.

"hey, i see you here often"

"oh, but i've been here once. just tonight, sir."

looks like his excuse failed, but the rindou haitani isn't giving up that easily.

"oh must have been someone else, but you look really pretty, iv'e been talking about you eyeing you. not in a creepy way."

"oh okay"

"want some drinks?"

"sure"

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

3 hours have passed, ran and sanzu wants to go home already.

they saw rindou leaving the cr with the girl in his back.

"So, you two had fun, huh"

"shut up. he's my brother btw"

"oh hello!"

"I saw a hickey, rinnie"

"shut up before i kill both of you"

"Alright, alright. but we're going home, say bye-bye to your girlfriend, now"

"oh, bye rin! it was nice meeting you"

"Don't worry, I'll meet you again."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"she was so fine! her body, her face, even her personality is hot."

"you have fallen, dude"

"i can't believe i have"

"even her body was so fucking hot when she dances and everything-"

"YES WE ALREADY KNOW YOU'VE BEEN SAYING THAT FOR THE 20TH TIME"

sanzu said, rindou just chuckled but. he didn't stop.

talking and talking and talking about that girl. he was so in love.

Taglist: @omakeomuomuu @thisbicc @galactict3a @rgtgt @chuuberrysworld @penguinlovestowrite-blog @ddeadcalm @obeymesimp11 @ashwasherelol @oikawastudiescutie @staymoarmyzen @leilalago @winterv-black @bobateasilverpearll @jcrml @sapphire-gemm @layla0mitsuya @rindousfavoritewife @mrssano04 @kzuyii @dr4kenlvr @softbabyjunkj @tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gangn @magxnoriaia @mimeen @valhomass @akira-kurusu @beebeedibapbeediboop @bontensbabygirll @wintercher03 @fueledbysano @chuunami @wuvmads

just message me if you guys want to be tagged :DD or if you are disturbed by my random taggings, please message me also!

#tokyo revengers #tokyorevengers x reader #ran haitani #rindou haitani #sanzu haruchiyo

86 notes · View notes

dailydoofypokemon · 8 months

Text

Day 204, Torterra!

A literal land turtle just makin his way downtown

#pokemon art challenge #pokemon #torterra

33 notes · View notes

thatonegeekygirl · 1 year

Text

Makin' My Way Downtown (A Spacejunk AU Invader Zim Fanfic)

as promised an unfortunate amount of time ago, here is a more-long-then-originally-intended and somewhat convoluted fanfiction for @l-ii-zz's spacejunk au! i strongly suggest checking her page out before reading this so you can get a sense of where the chracters are at--and also meet her iz oc, Urania! basic storyline, zim, dib and gir head out for a nice afternoon at a mooga mart on Quanax. banter is exchanged, absurd amounts of snacks are bought, zims past comes back to bite him, general shenanigens occur. zadf, adult dib, and lots of made-up space language.

here’s the link the the space junk au masterpost:

now, on to the fic!!

The Poltergeist cruised through space, its hull glinting in the light from a nearby star. Operating systems hummed their content song. Little bits of rock bumped against the solar windshield, not even leaving a scratch. Scanners sweeped back and forth, a vigilant eye for enemy vessels or heavenly bodies, alert and attuned. Meticulous. Serene. Controlled.

Unlike the beings found inside it.

“GIR!” Zim shrieked for the umpteenth time that day. “Cease that infernal noise and get over here!”

The little robot ignored him.

Zim sighed deeply. “...Urania.”

“GIR, come along,” the ship's AI ordered.

“Comin’ ship lady!” GIR called cheerfully, dropping the two metal rods he’d been banging together and skipping over to the console. He jumped into Zim’s lap and Zim growled once before tucking GIR in beside him in the pilot seat.

“Dib, make sure we don’t run into an asteroid, if you would.” Zim transferred command of the ship to Dib’s control pad. “GIR, give me your leg.”

“No promises,” Dib clipped. “Where’re we going again?”

“No, GIR, the other leg!” Zim groaned, as GIR threw his normal appendage in the air. “Urgh, Dib, weren’t you listening?”

“Nope,” Dib said frankly.

“Insufferable,” Zim muttered. He grasped GIR’s replacement leg and drew a multi-use tool from his PAK. He began tightening the connection between the leg and GIR’s metal shell. “We are going to planet Quanax in the Froogl system, as I told you before.”

“What are we going there for?” Dib asked, eyeing a particularly big piece of space junk as it floated past them.

“If you must know, it is the site for the largest Mooga Mart in the galaxy! Which you would know, if you paid any attention, Dib,” Zim scorned. He dropped GIR’s leg, and GIR happily settled into the seat, kicking his legs with glee.

“Mooga Mart?” Dib snickered. “What the hell is a Mooga Mart?”

“It’s a Mooga Mart.” Zim blinked at him. Upon realizing the human required more explanation, he groaned and continued. “Mega Mart is fine. Mega Mega Mart is better. Mega Mega Mega Mart is better than that. Extra Mega Mart is better than that. Extremely Fantastic Mart is eh. And Mooga Mart is the best! For Irk’s sake, how long have you been in space!?”

“Apparently not long enough to learn about the different levels of Mart,” Dib commented, grinning to himself as Zim rather seriously puzzled over Dib’s lack of knowledge of Mooga Marts. “What’s a Mooga Mart got anyway?” “Irken products!” Zim declared, tossing a finger into the air. “All the Irken products!”

“Gee.” Dib raised his eyebrows. “How come we haven’t gone to one before? Considering they’ve got all the Irken products.”

“Well. We’ve never traveled close to one before.” Zim shrugged. “Oh!” He pointed to the screen, which now displayed a flashing icon that looked distinctly like a mini-Woolmart. “We’ve arrived!”

“Urania, set auto-approach,” Dib said, flicking the main engines off.

“Oh, certainly, Captain.” Urania’s invisible touch guided the ship towards the planet.

“...I honestly can’t tell if that was sarcastic or not,” Dib muttered.

“Ha!” Zim grinned impishly. “Why, Dib, she is so obviously serious! You are the Captain, the King, the Big Kahuna, Our All-Powerful Leader, the Bulk Bag of Cheddar Cheese–”

“Christ, I get the point!” Dib swiped a hand at Zim’s face.

The Poltergeist swerved around ringed planets of various colors, ducked beneath a massive freighter ship, and joined the line of spacecraft easing their way into Quanax’s atmosphere.

“GIR, see that fast food mascot?” Zim gestured to an obnoxious sign featuring a bulbous alien creature with an absurdly large head, holding a seeping burger-like object and declaring, ‘EAT THIS FOOD!!’ in bubble letters. He wrapped an arm around GIR’s shoulders and threw a hand into the air. “His head is nearly as big as Dib’s!”

GIR ooo’d loudly as a cackling Zim scrambled away from Dib’s second strike.

“Remind me again why I hang out with you?” Dib asked in exasperation, glaring at Zim as the alien shifted smugly back into his chair.

“Aw, you love me.” Zim smirked.

“My mistake.”

Urania, ignoring them, guided the ship into a docking port, and dropped it somewhat abruptly on its landing stilts.

“Yeagh!” Zim spluttered as the vessel shuddered, grasping the sides of his chair.

“Bit of a rough landing there, Urania?” Dib said weakly from the floor.

“Again!” GIR cheered.

“Schlorfin’ AI, bet she did that on purpose,” Zim grumbled. He smoothed his skewed antenna and righted his rumpled suit.

“Not at all,” Urania replied smoothly, “just space turbulence.”

“No space turbulence if we’re not in space,” Zim muttered under his breath. But he picked up GIR and set him firmly on the floor, and made no further argument. “Chop chop, Dib, Mooga Mart awaits!”

“Just…gimme a minute for my lungs to face the right direction…” Dib managed,

“To quote good ol’ Commander Poki…” Zim held a hand out to Dib, and when the man took it, yanked him in one aggressive motion to his feet. “Walk it off!” He slapped Dib’s back. Dib groaned brokenly, then blinked.

“Wait, that actually…helped? Somehow?” He said slowly.

“I’ve found hitting often does,” Zim replied nonchalantly. “Though I admit it is usually directed at the enemy. GIR, if I see you fiddling with that leg one more time I’m going to blow it off myself!”

GIR looked up from pulling at his replacement leg with a caught-red-handed look.

“Yes, I noticed.” Zim narrowed his eyes on the robot. “You’re not so sneaky. Urania, we’ll be back in a couple hours, do try to not leave the planet without us onboard.” He marched down the corridor, waving the other two after him.

“I shall hold on to the one scrap of sympathy I have for GIR and endeavor not to,” Urania replied blithely. As Zim disappeared out the hanger doors she materialized beside Dib. He suppressed a shriek.

“Get me a repetitive laser, model G7R-69,” she said. “Don’t forget.”

“...why?” Dib questioned.

“A specific and important reason that I will not share with you at this time.”

Dib stared at her for a moment. “...Well, that's cryptic. C’mon, GIR.” He picked up the SIR unit and placed him in his hood, much to GIR’s delight. “I doubt Zim will appreciate it if we get left behind minutes after arriving.”

Dib tromped out of the ship, with squealing robot in tow, to find Zim gazing out at the sprawling megatropolis before them.

“Isn’t it glorious?” The aforementioned Irken grinned widely.

If one enjoyed box stores the size of New York city with an even more dismally gray color scheme, surrounded by swarming air traffic and the sound of machinery, it certainly was.

“How do you find anything in that?” Dib questioned, staring with skepticism at the many alien departments reaching as far as the eye could see, both side to side and upwards–and presumably downwards.

One of Zim’s PAK arms pulled something out of the device with flourish. “Map!”

“Right. Lead the way, space-man,” Dib said.

Zim began striding forwards, toward the huge doors marked ‘Entrance’ in bold pink letters, which seemed a bit overtly obvious. Dib followed, taking in the surprisingly small number of customers roaming around the area outside the building. “How come no one’s here?”

“Mooga Mart is nearly always filled with Irken consumers,” Zim explained, exuding smugness out the ying yang. “EXCEPT! On Irken holidays. One of which,” he gloated, “is so conveniently today!”

“Tallest Day!” Dib snapped his fingers. “Of course!”

“Only the Irken Elite are permitted to skimp on Tallest Day celebrations, so the Mart will be virtually empty. All those licking sticks, just sitting there for the taking!” Zim clapped his hands together gleefully. “...though I am suspicious of the origins of Tallest Day. Something in my squeedily spooch tells me the Tallest may have invented it as an excuse for parade floats of their faces and extra snacks.”

“Could be,” Dib said solemnly.

“Now, there is a scanner we have to pass through in order to be granted access to the Mart,” Zim explained. “Only Irkens are allowed through, unless you have explicit permission from an Irken and the Irken is present, in which case other species can enter as well. Just follow my lead!”

The three of them approached a kiosk-looking thing manned by what could have been an Earthen teenage movie theater employee if not for his third eye and tentacles. Beside it was a white and pink chamber with clear windows in the front and back.

“Wait, if you have to be scanned won’t it realize you’re not an Irken Elite?” Dib hissed under his breath, eyes flicking between his friend and the scanner. “And also, y’know, that you’re the traitorous criminal Invader Zim?”

“Quit worrying. It only scans for Irken DNA, not specific individuals,” Zim reassured him. “And even if it did, no one's going to risk leaving Irk on Tallest Day just to arrest us.”

“Step onto the pad to confirm your genetic code,” the alien warbled as they stopped at the counter.

Zim marched onto it, and the glass opened and closed behind him. He tucked his hands behind his back and tapped his foot impatiently. “Hurry it up, security drone, I have things to do!”

“Please keep all limbs and other appendages inside the Scan-O-Tron™️ until the Scanning™️ is complete,” the alien said, monotone.

He pressed a button, and neon pink rings began rising out of the floor, up around Zim, and into the ceiling. The machine buzzed as it worked. After a moment or two, a ding sounded from the employee's control panel.

“Scanning™️ complete. You may enter the premises.”

Zim strode out the other side. Dib moved to follow him, but the glass slid shut with a slam before him and GIR could enter.

“Irkens only, unless you have permission from a present Irken,” the alien said flatly.

“They’re with me,” Zim said. “Let them through or I will have a very serious conversation with your superior!”

“Do you take full responsibility for…” the alien squinted at Dib. “...the squishy pink thing and the SIR unit?”

“Yes yes yes, whatever, just open the ding dang door!” Zim rolled his eyes.

The alien employee shrugged and pushed another button. The glass parted before Dib.

He walked through the threshold, only slightly miffed at the comment on his apparent squishy pinkness.

“Let’s go get a cart,” he said, glancing around the massive area and trying not to become disoriented by the sheer magnitude of stuff.

“First things first,” Zim said briskly. “Gimme GIR.”

Dib raised an eyebrow, but reached behind himself and grabbed the robot from his hood. GIR waved his hands excitedly and tried to bounce but succeeded only in shaking Dib’s arms.

“Are we there yet!?” the SIR unit shrieked.

“Indeed we are,” Zim replied calmly, taking him from Dib. With habitual grace, Zim tossed him over his head and waited while metal cords snaked out of his PAK and around the robot, securing him to his back in a contraption amusingly reminiscent of a baby carrier.

Dib gave Zim a look.

“He wanders,” the alien explained shortly.

“Don’t I know it.”

Zim trotted to a enormous collection of floating, rectangular white carts and motioned for Dib to grab one. He did, and the three of them, led by Zim and his map, entered the maze of aisles and shelves. They were fairly well organized, with the merchandise stacked neatly and their prices displayed in holographic pink. Signs hung suspended in the air telling patrons what things were where, with the occasional one advertising some Irken product or another. There were small circular objects hovering just above the ground at consistently spaced intervals. These confused Dib until he saw a thin little Irken climb on one and ride it up to the higher shelving units.

“This way.” Zim pointed to the right, briefly looking up from the map. “Snacks are top priority, obviously. After that, the discount section. You’d be shocked at the things people will just throw in there! And if we have time after that, we’ll check out some of the new Invader tech the Scientists have come out with.” “You do know you’re not an Invader anymore, right?” Dib commented, half serious.

“Sure,” Zim replied, “but I still have standards.”

The snack section, to the surprise of no one, was at the forefront of the store, and only took them a minute or two to find. Zim stared giddily at the rows upon rows of alien candy and junk food, practically vibrating. As he began stuffing everything in sight into the cart, Dib examined some of the stranger food choices around him. Picking up a bag of Gummy Wyverns in one hand and a cylinder of Sour Star Dust in the other, he came to the conclusion that Zim’s infinite supply of energy probably came from the absurd amount of sugar he consumed. Perhaps if he, too, consumed absurd amounts of sugar…

He tossed the two snacks into the cart.

No harm in trying.

As he pushed the cart down the aisle, he read all the labels and attempted to figure out what exactly each of the foods might actually contain–Irken food products did not come with such foolish things as Nutrition Facts. Moments later Zim, finally content with the number of calories piled inside the cart, nodded thoughtfully.

“We’ve still got enough room to grab some discounted supplies!” He declared. “This way Dib!” He led them out of the aisle they were in and left, into an area filled with massive cans of screws.

“Can we lookit the fishy things!?” GIR screeched from Zim’s back.

Zim grimaced. “...fine, we can look at the fishy things. After we get everything else.”

“I, too, wish to look at ‘the fishy things’,” Dib said.

“We’ll look at the fishy things!” Zim growled. “You people really need to get your priorities straight.” “Says the Irken who just stuffed our cart overflowing with junk food,” Dib retorted under his breath.

“I heard that!” Zim threw a hand up in the air. He quickened his stride until eventually Dib was forced to run full tilt after him, cart swerving perilously and growing heavier by the second. Eons later Zim came to an abrupt stop, causing Dib to shriek and dig his heels into the linoleum floor to avoid crashing into him. The cart came to a stop inches behind the aliens head.

“What…was that…for…?” Dib panted, leaning on the cart’s handle.

“Now we’ll have time to look at the fishy things,” Zim explained calmly, not even slightly out of breath. Dib was sure his voice sounded genial to any onlookers but Dib could damn well hear the smug lilt hidden within its innocent facade.

“Alright, alright, the genius Irken wins.” Dib rolled his eyes. “Can we just look at the discounts now?”

Zim gestured to the sign above them reading ‘Discounted Items’. “Since I have so thoughtfully brought us to them in short order, yes we may.”

“Okay, now you’re not fooling anybody!” A chuckle snuck its way out of Dib’s chest.

“Fooling?” Zim eyes grew comically wide. “Fooling? What are you implying, dear boy? There is no fooling commencing in this fine establishment! I have only the utmost respect for my fellow cabin mates. I’m offended you would imply such crass behavior!”

“When did you become a Victorian gentleman?” Dib raised an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about, Dib? Really. You’re losing it. And if you keep stalling we’ll run out of time to see the fishy things!” Zim tutted.

Dib pushed the cart into the first Discounted Items aisle with one hand and grabbed the back of Zim’s suit with the other.

“Yee!” Zim shrieked involuntarily, to which Dib chortled.

The alien grinned darkly, all teeth. “That's how you want to play, huh?” “What does that mean–YAGH!” Zim ripped himself out of Dib’s grasp and climbed up his back, claws digging into the fabric and scratching at his skin. “Zim! That tickles!”

Mercifully, as Zim reached his shoulders he ceased his scrabbling, swinging his legs across Dib’s chest. “March, soldier!” The alien cried.

“As long as you don’t pull at my hair,” Dib warned, and continued walking.

“Victory for Zim!” Zim crowed triumphantly. “Ooo, look, industrial heated blanket.”

“Dude, I know you love your heated things, but aren’t name-brand heated blankets super pricey? Do we have the funds for something that expensive?” Dib pried, wincing as he visualized the numbers on his monies rectangle dropping into the red zone.

Zim gestured widely to the price tag, which read: “98% OFF!!!! LAST ONE IN STOCK!!!!!!! SAVE 76’000 MONIES!!!!!!!!!!!! (seriously for the love of Irk buy this thing we can’t take down the sign out front advertising heated blankets until they’re all sold out and we can’t put a new ad out till it's gone and the other product investors are getting angry enough to shoot something) ((probably me)) ((I am begging you take this gashlinking thing))).

Dib shrugged the shoulder Zim wasn’t sitting on and tossed the boxed item into their cart. “Fair enough.”

“Come, Dib, all we have to do is walk straight through the Discounted Items aisle and we’ll be at the fishy things! And then the tech section is right above them on the third floor! Sometimes my marvelous planning skills impress even myself.” Zim grinned.

“‘Aisle’, singular? There’s only one?” Dib asked.

“Indeed!”

“Oh, well, this shouldn’t take too long then.”

~2 hours and 23 minutes later…~

“Is…is that the end…?” Dib breathed, drooping eyelids fluttering as his pupils registered a break in the straight shelving to both his sides.

“Alas, we have reached the end of the discounts,” Zim said mournfully. “But not without acquiring two packs of Irken Purple-Pop soda, a heated blanket, a 50 foot length of bungee rope, new speakers for The Poltergeist’s lounge, a box of miscellaneous screws and nails, a couple of heating coils for my latest project, that weird wrist-computer you seemed so excited about, three pairs of welding goggles, antenna-pods for my Music-y Box Thing, and a Tobbleberry lolly for GIR!”

Ignoring the majority of Zim’s sentence, Dib yelled, “Finally!” And rushed the last couple meters to the end of the aisle. “Sweet fresh air! Miles and miles of AISLE really does something to a person! God, I missed space for my elbows!” He flung his hands wide out.

“Er, Dib-friend?” Zim tapped the top of Dib’s head.

“Hm?” Dib opened an eye to look at him.

Zim tipped his head to the side a couple times, giving him a look. Dib followed his gaze.

A pair of Irkens in one aisle and a singular one in another were staring at Dib detestfully.

Dib smiled awkwardly and gave them a hesitant half-wave before lowering both his arms. “Zin,” he whispered, trying to keep his lips from moving. “‘Ich ‘ay are ‘e goin’?”

Zim dutifully pointed right. Dib looked resolutely at the cart, to keep it from hitting things and not at all to avoid locking eyes with the unimpressed Irkens, and pushed it towards the fishy things.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Dib muttered.

“I wasn’t laughing,” Zim said.

“You were going to.” “Well, you’ll never know now.” Zim patted Dib’s black hair. “Maybe I was going to comfort you with a kind hug and tell you that the hugely amusing event that just took place was not your fault somehow.”

“Y’know, I’d be more inclined to believe you if you hadn’t just called it ‘hugely amusing’,” Dib retorted.

Luckily for Dib–or possibly the both of them–before Zim could continue the conversation, GIR waved a pointer finger in a vaguely forward direction and yelled, “The fishy things!”

“Yes GIR, those are the fishy things.” Zim nodded. Then froze. “Wait, how did you get out!?”

GIR, now leaning on Zim’s head with his little metal feet on his shoulders, shrugged and stuck out his tongue. Zim sighed. “Come here, you insolent SIR.” A robotic arm shot out of his PAK and tucked GIR snugly back into his carrier. After a moment of thought, a couple more cords wrapped around GIR’s arms and chest, securing him tighter.

“You know, you could’ve just left him at the ship,” Dib pointed out.

Zim shot him an affronted look.

“Kidding, kidding,” Dib chuckled. “Let’s go see these fishy things of GIR’s.”

“They’re really not that interesting,” Zim complained, hopping off of Dib’s shoulder. “They’re all over Irk, some people enjoy eating them–I think they taste like Earth chalk. Really, they’re more pests than anything else.”

As he listened to Zim’s long-winded and unnecessary description of the fishy things–which were apparently called wakwoks–his eyes caught on a label in one of the aisles. Repetitive Lasers. If he slipped away before Zim finished his rant, the Irken probably wouldn’t even notice he’d left... He tilted the cart away and tiptoed off into the aisle. The selection of repetitive lasers was near the end, and there were a lot of them. Who knew Irkens loved repetitive lasers so much. I mean, he knew they loved regular lasers, so he supposed it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume they’d like repetitive ones. He scanned the shelf.

Model G7R-96, Model G8-90, Model H0-45… Model G7R-69! Unfortunately, it was near the very top. As he pondered this problem thoughtfully the hovering pad thing beside him caught his eye.

Hm.

Dib hopped onto the device. It shook slightly but didn’t move.

“Uh,” Dib murmured. “Up, please?”

The pad stayed still.

“...Model G7R-69 repetitive laser, please…?”

The pad rushed him up, up, up till he was staring the desired lasers in the face. He reached a hand out to grab one just as his communicator buzzed. He groaned. Apparently Zim did notice. He pulled it out of his pocket.

angry green gremlin: DIB WHERE ARE YOU???

Dib rolled his eyes at the blatant misuse of capitalization and exclamation points.

agent mothman: i just went to pick up something for urania

agent mothman: ill be back in a sec

agent mothman: chill

angry green gremlin: GET BAKC HERER NOW!!!!

agent mothman: jeez im coming

Dib tucked the device back in his jacket, grabbed a laser, and said, “The floor?”

His ride sent him hurtling at a terrifying speed back to the cart. Grasping at his tumbling stomach, he stuck the foot-long repetitive laser into a somewhat open space in the cart. He then began walking–slowly–to his previous destination and an apparently panicking alien. Dib wasn’t sure if he was more irritated or touched by how much Zim was freaking out about his disappearance.

He rounded a corner, and took in the tanks of faintly pink liquid full of…well, fishy things. That truly was the only way to describe them in any honest way. They looked vaguely like lionfish, with some ‘lion’ removed from them and a heaping pile of ‘thing’ thrown in. There were also a few that appeared to be covered in goo, but considering they were underwater it was hard to tell. He strode forward, wondering vaguely where Zim and GIR had gone, and then a sharp hand grabbed his sleeve and yanked him and the cart into an adjoining aisle.

“Shh!” His attacker raised a finger to his lips.

“Zim, what are you doing?” Dib asked tiredly. “If this is about someone trying to steal your snacks again, I’m telling you no one's gonna take candy from you when they just take it from the store–”

“It's not that,” Zim interjected hurriedly. “Stand in front of me!”

Dib eyed his frantic friend. He stepped to the side so he blocked the view of Zim from the rest of the store. “Fine, now tell me what’s up.”

“I’ll explain later!” Zim waved him off, peeking warily out from his cover behind Dib’s legs to look out at the open area beyond. The alien stared for a long moment before eventually letting out a relieved sigh. “Okay, I don’t think he saw me...”

“‘He’? Who’s–” “ZIM!”

Zim winced deeply as his name rang through the rows of goods. “Time to go.” He grabbed Dib’s shirt and led him at a speed walk out of the aisle and down the main pathway. Dib shoved the cart to get it moving and followed, matching his companions pace. “Seriously, what’s going–” he began, only to be interrupted again.

“Is that you?” The voice bellowed. “Why, don’t leave, Zim! We haven’t had time to catch up in oh so long!”

Zim stopped wearily and put a hand out to stop Dib. The human complied, waiting until Zim grimaced and turned before he did so too.

“Heyyyy, Borax…” Zim said, smiling a strained smile.

“Hello, Zim,” greeted a leafy green Irken with neon pink eyes–presumably Borax. He was surrounded by four other Irkens, two with purple eyes, one with pink eyes and irregularly light green skin, and one with a single pink eye, its other one lidded and covered by an ugly, ragged scar. They all wore standard Invader uniforms, except for Borax, who also had metal gloves and boots.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Zim tried.

“Indeed. You’re still as short as ever,” Borax said.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Zim said shortly.

“How have you been?” Borax asked, words kind but gaze calculating.

“Oh, you know…” Zim trailed off. Dib was slightly impressed–despite his better judgment–to meet someone who could leave Zim at a loss for words.

“I see you’re hanging out with inferior life forms now,” Borax sneered, gesturing lazily at Dib.

“Dib is not–!” Zim growled, cutting himself off. “...Dib may not be Irken but he is just as superior as you or I.”

“They told us you’d gone rogue, Zim.” Borax tilted his head. “I mean, you already were out of control, what with all the regicide and mission failures. But I never believed you’d be this…Defective.” “Jokes on you, buckaroo.” Zim grinned, gaining back lost ground. “I don’t care that I’m Defective anymore! Check it out, I’ll even say it: I’m just a big ol’ Defective Irken. Zim the Defective. Defective, that’s what I am!”

Borax continued, unfazed. “Do you recall what I told you I’d do to you if I ever saw you again?”

“...give me a set of Purple Slooshie coupons and send me on my way…?” Zim supplied.

Borax glared darkly. “Boys…” He turned to the Irkens beside him and lifted a finger to point at Zim. “GET THEM!”

Zim shrieked and swatted urgently at Dib’s hand. “Run Dib!”

Dib didn’t need to be told twice. The cart gave a frustrated squeal as he threw himself into it and took off at a headlong run. Zim sped along beside him, casting nervous glances over his shoulder as the sound of charging Irkens grew closer.

“Here!” Zim tossed GIR into the cart, the robot giggling as he tumbled into the mountain of snacks. “Make sure he doesn’t climb out!” “Why can’t you just keep him in–” The question answered itself as Zim’s PAK legs struck out at the stuff surrounding them, leaving a messy barrier of random electronic components and bulk bags between them and Borax and his gang.

“This way!” Zim waved Dib down an aisle to their left, and Dib had to push one foot off a shelf to avoid knocking the front-heavy cart into it.

“Do you actually know where you’re going!?” Dib questioned above the clamor of Irken swearing and scraping PAK legs behind them.

“Your faith astounds me, Dib!” Zim hissed in reply. “Of course I know where we’re going!”

“Did you really think to load the map into your PAK!?” Dib demanded doubtfully.

Zim threw a hand in the direction of a massive, glowing EXIT sign.

“Oh,” Dib huffed. “My bad.” A bulk bag of roasted egad nuts crashed into the rack of cleaning wipes beside them, narrowly missing Dib’s head. He yelped.

“What did you do to this guy!?” He asked Zim, wide eyed.

Zim muttered something.

“I can’t hear you over all the shit being thrown at us!” Dib dodged a hammer.

“Nothing!” Zim snapped, striking a military mattress into the floor with a PAK leg.

“Dude,” Dib glanced up at a smoking hole in a box of replacement spinning razor blades. “It was obviously not nothing!”

“Alright, fine, I’ll tell you the abridged version!” Zim growled.

~Lotsa years earlier, before Zim went to Earth. Actually, before Zim was even an Invader. During Zim’s Invader training…~

“Now, recruits!” Commander Poki instructed, pacing. “For the love of Irk, express caution when practicing with your holo blades. I realize it has ‘holo’ in the name, but believe me when I say that it will not cause ‘holo’ damage. We cannot afford to lose any Invaders, even Invaders-in-training, during this time of crisis. At least, not many. So at least some of you need to stay alive. Those Flogschlokians won’t kill themselves!”

Zim stood on the flat top training area, holding a bright pink holo blade with undisguised glee. He wore a standard purple Invader-in-training uniform with the Irken insignia in black across his front. The weapon buzzed with energy as he swung its end back and forth in the air. Borax stood beside him, also wielding a holo blade. The size difference between them was striking. Zim seemed miniscule in comparison to Borax’s thick frame and general tallness. Also unlike Zim, he seemed uninterested, eager to get on to other things–things, one could assume, like raiding the free snack cabinet in the training lounge.

“Don’t get that thing so close to my face!” Borax complained, glaring at Zim.

“Chill out!” Zim said with a smirk, waving his weapon in the air and bouncing excitedly at the streaks of pink left in its trail. “I’m not gonna hit you.”

“Irk, I can’t believe they chose you of all people to be my partner.” Borax groaned loudly.

“I can’t believe they chose you of all people to be my partner,” Zim retorted arrogantly. “Truly you are not worthy of witnessing my magnificent magnificence, Borax.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Borax held his holo blade up in front of him in a standard ready stance.

Zim followed suit, though he shifted into an exaggerated position rather unlike Borax’s controlled one. Borax rolled his eyes, but moved his weapon to strike at Zim as they were told to do. Zim blocked him with gusto, their blades meeting in a shower of pink sparks and angry vibration.

“Zim!” Borax hissed. “Be careful!”

“Aw, c’mon, it's no fun if we have to do it slow!” Zim protested.

“It’s not supposed to be ‘fun’!” Borax narrowed his eyes. “We’re training, not playing some foolish smeet game! Now focus!”

“You need to relax,” Zim said blithely. He withdrew his blade from Borax’s and pitched it between his hands.

“Zim, I'm serious! Cut it out!” Borax growled.

Zim began twirling his weapon in the air with increasing speed, and it hummed and brightened.

“The commanders are probably overexaggerating how dangerous these things actually are,” he said. “I mean really, what's the worst that could happen?”

The intensifying noise coming off the weapon stopped abruptly as it cut clean through Borax’s right arm. Zim stared at the results of his unintentional amputation. Pink blood dripped to the ground from the limbless hole in Borax’s shoulder. Silence filled the grounds as the other trainees noticed the incident unfolding before them, and it reigned for a long, long moment as Borax registered what had just occurred. Zim hoped for a second that perhaps, the other Irken just wouldn’t notice he’d been suddenly parted with one of his four limbs.

“ZIIIIIIIIM!!!!”

Damn.

~Lotsa years later. Unfortunately, Borax is still alive, and he is angry.~

“You cut off his arm!?” Dib yelled, voice cracking.

“Only one arm!” Zim defended, as they skidded down one of the tighter aisles. “And they gave him a new one!”

“Even if doctors could grow me a…new arm with creepy cloning science,” Dib replied, panting. “I would still…be mad if… someone cut mine off!”

“Perhaps we can have this argument at a later, less in-mortal-danger time!?” Zim suggested. Laser fire rained down on them, and the Irken threw up a holo shield of his own design in defense. “This thing won’t last long! We need to get out of the store and into the open!”

“Is that not the opposite of huff what we want!?” Dib steered the cart around a fallen oil tank.

“If I have more space I can use my PAK legs!” Zim explained.

“Right. Huff. Okay.”

The exit sign was now looming on the near horizon, and Dib could see the entrance they’d come in through. Luckily for his burning legs and raspy lungs, he wouldn’t have to run for much longer. GIR peered out over the side of the cart. Dib raised a hand to smack him back into the safety of its sides, but before he had to, GIR noticed the horde of angry Irkens spewing lasers and hate and quickly slipped back into the heaps of stuff, only wide eyes showing.

Smart robot.

They tumbled forward in a rush of limbs and adrenaline. Passing by the expansive check-out counters, Dib turned his attention temporarily to the cart full of things they hadn’t yet purchased.

“Don’t we have to huff pay for this stuff!?” Dib pressed, as they tore past the counters and in a direct path for the exit.

“Urgh, fine!” Zim groaned. A PAK arm pulled a wad of monies from a compartment in the device and chucked it at one of the tellers. It hit the furry alien in the face with a smack.

“Is that even huff the right amount!?” Dib inquired, incredulous.

“Are you kidding me, that's more than those idiots would usually see on a Saturday!” Zim snarked.

“Is it genuine?”

“...that's not important right now!” Zim leapt forward to stand in front of the clear glass doors. The employee they’d spoken with earlier stared at them tiredly. “There’s no time for a scan! Stand back!” Zim warned. Dib, hoping whatever Zim was about to do wouldn’t cause too much damage, yanked the cart backwards and ducked behind it. The sound of machinery whirring and charging up segued into a shuddering blast that sent bits of metal and miscellaneous building material into the air.

“Let’s go!” Zim called.

“Was that really necessary?” Dib complained as the three of them plus the cart stampeded their way through the rubble and out into the open.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I got to try out my new laser cannon!” Zim grinned up at him. “Push the red button on the side of the cart handle!”

Dib decided he was too winded to question the Irken anymore and simply pressed it without argument. The cart flashed purple once, and then the handle and anti-grav motors tucked themselves into the main body, the whole thing clicking and folding into place until it became a sealed, compact, rectangular, white transport container.

“It’s done!” Dib shouted, the cart-turned-box falling to the ground without its operating components in place. Metal tendrils whipped around the box, securing it in a net, and Dib found himself being grabbed in a similar manner, his feet yanked off the ground.

“Hi Mary!” GIR chirped, tucked snugly in his hood once more.

“How did you–ya know what, nevermind, we’re good Zim!” Dib called, cupping a hand to his mouth. A PAK hand shot him a thumbs up as Zim’s PAK legs sprouted around the alien and began pulling them all forward at breakneck speed. Wind charged at Dib’s face and drew tears from his stinging eyes. He shifted to look behind them as the shouts of Borax and his goons grew louder and more rathful. The look on Borax’s raging face showed he was all too aware that his target was escaping.

“GO!” He roared, his own PAK legs speeding up their violent lunging.

Laser fire bombarded them, but luckily for the trio, angry Irkens had aim about as good as a rookie Stormtrooper. The group was, however, catching up to them at an alarming rate. Dib met the eyes of one of the purple-eyed Irkens and it scowled resentfully.

“Uh, Zim!?” Dib shouted, turning back around. “You might want to hurry!”

Zim didn’t reply, and Dib worried momentarily that he hadn’t heard him, but then their velocity doubled sharply as a pair of gray and pink rocket boosters sprung from Zim’s PAK and activated. Dib hoped his friend was able to keep their intense firepower in check long enough to reach The Poltergeist.

They careened past a pair of shoppers, the Irken Invaders screeching and jumping out of the way, waving fisted hands at them indignantly. Dib opened his mouth to apologize, remembered the atrocities committed by Invaders, and promptly shut it again.

He spotted their docking port, and a thought struck him–that, and a chucked Irken popsicle that one of their pursuers decided wasn’t worth enough to keep if throwing it meant assaulting Dib’s head. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his communicator, taking care not to drop it to the speeding ground and certain destruction, and slipped his goggles over his eyes to block the wind. He swiped through his contacts until he landed on Urania’s. His fingers shook as he typed and he struggled to hold onto the device. He hoped autocorrect would cut him a break and actually work for once.

agent mothman: start the ship!!

Urania: May I ask why? agent mothman: just check ur scanners!!!

Urania: …

Urania: Ah. Very well.

The door to their port opened up and The Poltergeist rumbled to life, blue light flashing from its propulsion engines, and spreading up to accent its indents. Seeing how close they were getting to it, Dib hastily shoved his communicator back in his pocket and prepared himself for a rough stop. Just in time, it turned out, because seconds later Zim dug his PAK legs into the ground and brought them to an abrupt and screeching halt. Suddenly, a well-aimed–or more likely just lucky–laser struck his retracting boosters and they sparked and whirred angrily, sending smoke guttering into the air. Zim yelped and batted at the dislocking mechanism until they fell heavily to his feet. Unfortunately, this distracted him enough to forget about holding Dib, and the human found himself unceremoniously dropped in a pile on the ground. He scrambled to his feet and pulled GIR out of his hoodie, cradling the robot in his arms. A persistent throbbing tore through his thigh. That was going to hurt later.

“Zim! Let’s go!” Dib yelled, stumbling up to his friend.

Zim was crouched at his spasming rocket boosters, trying to collect the pieces in his arms, swearing in a confusing mix of English and Irken under his breath. “Give me a minute!” “You can make new boosters!” Dib pleaded, bouncing on his heels and glancing restlessly between his friend and the approaching storm of Irkens and Irken weaponry. “If you stay here Borax is gonna obliterate you and you can’t use boosters much less make boosters if you’re fuckin’ dead!”

Zim kneeled before his broken creation for a moment longer and then sprung to his feet.

“You’re paying for new materials!” He declared sharply.

“It’s on me!” Dib yanked him forward. “Time to blow this popsicle stand!”

They half-ran half-lurched the last few meters, bent forward to avoid blasts and rubble. Dib clutched GIR to his chest, and the little robot made uh-e-uh-e-uh-e-uh sounds to match Dib’s shuddering footfalls. He tried his darndest not to giggle. Not the time.

The trio scuttled up The Poltergeist’s ramp and into the ship. Zim wrenched the box-cart the rest of the way inside, sending it skittering across the metal flooring, and smacked a screen, activating the ship-wide communications system. “Urania!” He hollered into it. “We’re on!”

“Closing hangar doors.” Urania’s voice announced.

Dib and Zim turned to watch as the folding metal smoothly covered view of Borax and the other Irkens. The horde fired a last few shots at them, sending a series of dings echoing through the docking port, and the scar-faced one smacked head first into the edge of a wall in a last-ditch attempt to throw himself into their ship. Borax bared his teeth at them, fiery wrath burning in his eyes, and as The Poltergeist sealed its doors the last thing Dib saw was his open mouth and the droplets of spittle flying from it as he bellowed, “ZIIIIIIIIIM!”

The Poltergeist rose off the landing pad and lifted up and out of the port, leaving the five furious Irkens below to their fit of wrath. The Mooga Mart shrunk gradually in the porthole windows. A beat or two passed, and they slid smoothly into the exiting line of spacecraft. The near-silence of the hangar was a stark contrast to the chaos they’d just escaped, and there was an awkward, motionless pause while the three of them stood there shakily. Then Zim abruptly flopped to a sitting position, exhaling loudly. His various PAK appendages withdrew into his PAK. Dib’s heaving chest calmed as he caught his breath, and he gazed into the void for a moment as his brain buffered.

“When can I see the fishy things again!?” GIR asked brightly, shaking the two of them from their respective trances.

“Was that,” Dib said, “by any chance, the reason we’ve never gone to a Mooga Mart before?”

“...yes. If there’s anything Irkens love more than the Tallest, it's cheap snacks, and that includes the many, eh, enemies I have made over the years,” Zim admitted. “...apparently that logic holds true to Borax as well.”

At that, the laughter Dib had been containing escaped in the form of bouncing chuckles. “What–what kinda name is Borax, anyway!?”

Zim snickered, then leaned back on his hands and released a cackling laugh, shoulders shaking. “It is a humorous title, isn’t it? Ha! Just a Human cleaning agent!”

Dib held out a hand and Zim grasped it. Dib hauled the Irken to his feet, the two of them sharing sniggers.

“Y’know, Dib,” Zim said, shaking his head in amusement. “If I’d never met you, I never would’ve known how stupid a name Borax is.”

“Guess I was good for something after all, huh?” Dib smiled broadly.

“Indeed, Dib-friend!” Zim said. “If I ever see him again he’s going to learn all about his name’s alternate origins…” He rubbed his hands together with relish.

“Are you done with the hysterics yet?” Urania asked dryly, causing the two of them to jump in surprise. “Your box of stuff is clogging up my hangar bay.”

“Urania, I thought I requested you refrain from startling us with your creepy all-over-the-ship-ness?” Zim inquired resentfully. “And couldn’t you at least wait for us to settle on a destination?”

“Get up here then,” Urania ordered.

“Very well,” Zim grumbled. “C’mon, GIR, it's your turn to pick our next stop! Tallest save us.”

GIR scrambled off Dib and took hold of Zim’s hand, bobbing excitedly. “I’ll be there in a sec,” Dib said. “I just gotta grab something from the cart.” Zim nodded and led GIR out of the room.

“I hope you enjoyed the fishy things,” the Irken's receding voice griped, “if we hadn't gone to see them we wouldn’t have run into Borax in the first place!”

After a moment of thought, Dib pressed the button on the cart for the second time that day. The top of it whirred open to reveal the treasure trove of items within. He rummaged around in it until his hand came to rest on the smooth, circular metal of the repetitive laser.

“Urania?” He called.

“Yes?” The AI replied.

Dib held the item up. “Got your laser.”

“Thank you, Dib,” she said. A metal arm snaked out of the ceiling and grasped the proffered laser.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Dib said carefully. “What do you want it for?...You’re not going to blow something up, are you…?” “Oh, no, Model G7R-69 repetitive lasers are completely harmless,” Urania answered. “They simply make excellent disco lights.”

Dib blinked. “Disco…lights…?”

“Indeed. It does get rather dull around here when you three are off making trouble.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t make a sound, but Dib was certain Urania was laughing at him.

“Dib!” Zim shouted. “Hurry up!”

“Coming!” Dib shouted back. He trotted through the ship’s hallway until he emerged at the cockpit. “Where are we off to now?” “That goddamn space cotton candy stand again,” Zim seethed. “I knew including GIR in our destination-picking was a mistake!”

“Aw, cheer up, space-boy.” Dib grinned. “At least he didn’t choose the amusement planet like last time. ‘Sides, I could go for some cotton candy. Set a course, please, Urania!”

“Only if you swear not to bring any of that sticky mess onboard again,” Urania cautioned.

“GIR, listen to the irritating AI,” Zim advised.

“Not to worry, we won’t,” Dib promised.

“We’ve learned our lesson.”

“Pinky promise, right, Zim?”

“...fuck off.”

The Poltergeist’s engines glowed brightly and it shot off into the distance, leaving only wisps of swirling blue jump dust and echoes of spirited laughter in its wake.

#invader zim #space junk au #spacejunk au #zim #dib #fanfiction #fanfic #iz #fanart #zadf #dib membrane #gir #invader zim au #invader zim fandom #tw blood #nothing graphic though #the geek draws #the geek writes

92 notes · View notes

thefreakydeaky · 10 months

Text

You're No Good (Part 2)

Negan x Reader

Various TWD Characters x Reader

Modern AU

Summary: Your husband came up with a way to keep you away from trouble but trouble just won't stay away from you.

Warnings: In this house we say Fuck. there's a little angst in this part. la croix smut. there is a hint of smut.

That evening as you made dinner, the instant messaging app dinged. You picked up your phone to see a response from your ex.

- Hey, I've been doing fine. The families alright except we lost Mimma and Pappa two years ago. We should go get a drink together and really catch up, when you've got time. There's a fancypants bar at that new hotel downtown. You were always into that sort of thing. Let me know.-

You smirked.

Fancypants bar

It was a very Him phrase to use. It sounded fun to day drink and hang out for a while.

-I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences to you and your family. I would like to catch up. What day are you off?-

And just like that it was set in motion. You pushed the stir fry around the pan. You heard the garage door opening and took off your apron.

Negan called out to you as he came inside. You turned off the stove and went to him.

The tall handsome man put his arms around you encircling you in his embrace. You leaned up and pressed your lips to his in a quick peck. He laughed. Then ducked his head and kissed you properly. His lips molded to yours. You stayed connected for a moment. He slowly pulled away.

"What you makin'?" Negan asked following you to the kitchen.

"Oh, just stir fry." You told him.

He took out a couple of plates and set them on the counter. You began to serve your dinner as he got a beer and a soda from the fridge.

"How was your day?" He took a seat at the table.

You picked up the plates and then set them down. You got utensils and brought them to the table.

"It was alright." You thought for a moment to tell him you had run into Rick Grimes, but you decided against it. "Nothing interesting. I bought a new dress."

"That's nice." He took a bite of his food.

"So, I don't want you to think I'm upset with you, because I'm not, but-"

His eyebrows raised. He looked mildly concerned.

"Another one called me today.” You kept your tone even.

“Who called you?” He asked not understanding.

“Someone you’ve …seen or someone you’re seeing.” You tried again.

He winced.

“We had talked about you using face recognition to lock your phone, remember?" You imparted with forced calm.

"Shit. Baby, I'm sorry. I hate to do it. It's such an inconvenience, but you're right. If it's the only way to prevent this from happening I'll get it done."

You nodded.

"Thank you."

He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. Your text message app chimed. You ignored it in favor of eating dinner with the man you loved.

••••••••••••

On a bright and sunny Saturday, You and Negan drove to one of the biggest parks in the city. It was beautiful, green and teaming with vegitation. The big elm trees offered a lot of shade and the lake at the center made the weather, that bordered on too hot, more bearable.

There were tables set up and booths with carnival games. An Axe throwing area was set up off to the side. There was an area being used to set up the catering that had been ordered as well.

Hand in hand you let Negan lead you up to his boss. He introduced you (again) to Mr. Philip Blake, a man of average height and unremarkable features. He acted pleasant enough.

You shook hands and made a comment about how nice it all was. Mr. Blake called his wife and daughter over and you greeted them as well. They were in matching floral printed shorts and pink polo shirts. You found it cute and smiled at the little girl.

"Well, there's plenty to do around here. You have to sign a waver for the axe throwing, but it's safe enough." Mr. Blake commented.

"We'll try it out." Negan replied.

The men nodded cordially at one another and you parted ways.

"What would you like to do?" Negan asked you as you stopped by different booths to check them out.

"Mm...what about the ring toss?"

Negan smirked at you.

"You sure about that?"

You nodded.

When it was your turn at the game, you were handed three rings each. You watched Negan go first. He missed the first one but landed the last two.

"Good job, My love." You kissed his cheek.

"Can't wait to see you try it." He teased.

You played at glaring at him.

You turned the first ring in your hand and hooked your hand as though you were throwing a frisbee. You moved your wrist sharply. It whizzed past the bottles and hit the tarp behind them.

The corner of Negan's mouth twitched. You shook your head.

You tried the same move again, this time you tried not to move so tightly. The ring landed upright in between the bottles

You made a sound of disappointment.

Negan chuckled.

"Last one, You've got this." He encouraged despite his amusement.

The last ring you held between both your hands and tossed into the air. The red plastic bounced against the bottles and tumbled to the floor.

You pouted.

Negan laughed lightly. He pulled you into his side, his arm around you lower back.

"It's okay, Baby. Throwing was never your thing."

"Yeah, yeah." You pretended to be mad about it. In truth, your lack of agility didn't bother you, you just liked to see Negan smile.

You moved on to a booth where you would throw darts at balloons. Negan gestured toward the stuffed animals.

"I'll win you one." He boasted, throwing you a wink.

You scoffed at him.

"Sure you will."

He threw the first of five darts and immediately hit a green balloon. The next two darts popped two more balloons in a row. With the the fourth one he struck the board between two rows and both balloons popped.

You clapped, grinning at the absurdly joyful look on his face. He got ready to throw the fifth dart.

You jumped at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder and turned, missing Negan's throw.

"What are you doing here?" The torso you found yourself looking at was all that was eye level for you, you had to crane your neck to see the man talking to you.

"Be?" Your eyes widened.

You would not have imagined you would run into him here, the man you met in a motel room twice a month. Memories flashed through your mind, the giant of a man with his hands tied together, laying naked under you as you rode his long cock. Memories of teasing him and edging him until he was on the verge of tears. Making him cum so hard that he whined as he reached orgasm. Then again, was it any wonder that you wouldn't know? He was very strict about keeping the details of your lives private. You didn't even know his real name. He told you to call him 'Beta'.

His brows were curled down in upset.

"You shouldn't be here." Beta insisted.

"I, uhm, someone I know works for-"

"I don't care! She'll see you!" He said in a hushed but urgent tone.

"Just ignore me. She will only know if you give it away." You huffed pushing his hand away from your shoulder.

Beta grabbed onto your forearm and started pulling you away.

"Hey!" You hissed. "Let go of me!"

The giant of a man ignored you still tugging you along behind him. You looked around frantically for your husband.

"Excuse me. You wanna get your fucking hands off my wife?" Negan cut in coming to stand between you.

Beta seemed startled by Negan's sudden presence. He let go of your arm.

"Oh, uh, your wife? My bad." He stuttered, looking from you to Negan and back. He didn't seem to be intimidated by Negan. Rather, his eyes kept darting toward the seating area somewhere behind you. "My bad." He repeated and walked away.

Once Beta was a good distance away, Negan turned and picked something up off the ground. Still feeling anxious and freaked out by what had happened, you watched as he came to you and deposited a rainbow colored bear into your arms the size of a small dog.

"Are you alright?" He sounded annoyed, but there was concern under it.

You nodded. You stared at the stuffed animal mutely for a minute.

"You should be more careful who you choose." He sniffed. "It sucks for me to have to meet them."

When you looked up, Negan was no longer standing in front of you. You caught sight of him going back toward the tables where some of his coworkers were sitting. You wiped away the tears that were welling in your eyes and started heading to the booth that was giving out lemonade.

#negan x reader #negan smith x reader #Beta x Reader #Beta twd x reader #the walking dead x reader

48 notes · View notes

verdantcrimson · 7 months

Text

Shutter Chance - 2

Writer: Yuumasu

Season: Winter

TL: verdantcrimson

(Unproofread)

1 | 2

Souma: Hasumi-dono! There you are, we have found you at last!

Keito: Kanzaki, what is it?

Souma: I heard that you are facing a predicament, is this true?

Souma: If that is truly the case, then I offer my sincere apologies. Unaware of your suffering, I made small talk with you this morning.

Souma: But fear not. For I have now arrived to assist you…♪

Keito: … Kanzaki, what are you going on about?

Kuro: Haha. That's a terrible way of explainin' things, Kanzaki.

Keito: Kiryu, you're here too… Why don't you explain what's going on instead of this excited fellow?

Kuro: Sure. We were just chattin' with Mashiro…

[Ten Minutes Ago]

Tomoya: —So I was talking to Hasumi-senpai before the dress rehearsal earlier.

Tomoya: Even Hasumi-senpai has his own troubles, right? I was under the impression that he was kind of perfect, so it was a little surprising.

Souma: Hasumi-dono in trouble…?

Tomoya: Yeah. But I admire him for the way he tries to solve his problems independently. I wish I could be that sort of leader…

Kuro: You've got your own strengths, Mashiro. Ya don't have to be just like danna, yeah?

Kuro: Oh, Kanzaki, who're ya makin' a phone call to?

Souma: I am calling Hasumi-dono, but I hear a peculiar voice.

Kuro: What are ya talkin' about? Gimme your phone for a sec.

Kuro: …. Ah. That's the automated voice-mail. It plays when the person can't pick up their phone.

Kuro: It's kind of weird that his phone's switched off at this time of the day though? Let's check his schedule on 'Whole-Hands'.

Kuro: So, yeah. As soon as he heard that you were at COCHI, he started runnin'.

Keito: I didn't receive any calls though? … Mm.

Keito: … Sorry, Kanzaki. It seems I left my phone switched off after the play.

Souma: No. In the end, I was able to meet with Hasumi-dono in person, so all is well.

Souma: However, I am still concerned about this 'trouble' of yours. Will you not confide in us?

Keito: It isn't anything huge. I simply haven't figured out what to do about my 'Feature Live' yet.

Souma: Then you may rely on us! Surely, if the three of us share our wisdom amongst ourselves, then a path shall be cleared for us!

Kuro: I dunno about that… It's not like he asked for our help, and it's a solo show too. Hey, Hasumi danna?

Keito: Ah, well. Kanzaki's feelings do make me happy… Hm? What's the matter, Anzu?

Keito: I could have both of them help me if I needed it?

Keito: That's right…

Keito: ……

Keito: … Kanzaki, Kiryu. Let's go on an outing together.

Keito: If I'm with you guys, I'll definitely be able to show Anzu the 'Natural' side of me she's looking for… ♪

[Some time later]

Kuro: … Walkin' around like this brings back memories from last year. Hasumi, do ya remember?

Keito: Yes. Time passed quickly, it's been over a year since then.

Keito: … Seems you're curious about what happened back then, Anzu? Well, you were partly involved.

Keito: It was shortly after the end of the 'Halloween Party'. You came to the Student Council Office and told me that "The interview you submitted to the magazine was returned."

Keito: They had wanted a more unexpected set of answers, so I decided to go downtown, a place I usually don't frequent, and I happened to meet with these two by chance.

Keito: The rest is as I mentioned in my interview answers. I played games at the arcade, and went shopping for stationery.

Keito: … By the way, Kanzaki. Why are you fidgeting around over there?

Souma: I have a place that I would like to go with Hasumi-dono and everyone else. But since this is related to Hasumi-dono's work…

Keito: You're holding yourself back, right? That is unnecessary, we can go wherever you want to take me.

Souma: Hasumi-dono… Then, with the encouragement from your kind words…

Souma: I would like to go to that 'Tapiohka' shop!

Kuro: Tapioca shop… Huh. I didn't know that place was still around.

Souma: Fufu. It has been a dream of mine to visit this shop with Hasumi-dono and Kiryu-dono again ♪

Souma: … Ah, right. I shall present this 'sutampu kaado' to you, Hasumi-dono!

Keito: 'Get extra tapioca pearls in your drink for free after you've accumulated 30 points' … Did you save these up all on your own?

Souma: I was able to accumulate them by visiting on my own, as well as with the aid of my schoolmates.

Souma: If it is of any help with the photos for the 'pamfureto', it would make me happy…♪

Keito: Just the normal amount of tapioca pearls is enough though…

Kuro: Well, we can’t just ignore Kanzaki’s kindness now, can we? So, I’ll be borrowin’ that stamp card.

Kuro: Clerk, we'd like four drinks with tapioca pearls please. Add extra pearls to one of 'em.

Kuro: What's wrong? Is somethin' the matter little miss? “I'm just the photographer”? Don't say that, wouldn't feel right if you were the only one without a drink.

Kuro: Here ya go Hasumi, your very special tapioca drink.

Keito: Whoa, It's heavy....

Keito: .......

Souma: Hasumi-dono, how does it taste?

Keito: ...You could hardly call this a drink. No matter how much I chew, the quantity of pearls just doesn't decrease.

Kuro: ......♪

Keito: Kiryu, don't just stare at me with that warm and fuzzy gaze. Anzu, you too, don't take pictures so happily.

Keito: … No, feel free to take pictures to your heart’s content. I just remembered Kanzaki’s diligent efforts.

Keito: “I’m sure the fans will love it,” you say? … Hmph, they had better.

Keito: I wouldn’t show a stranger this side of me.

[END]

#shutter chance #Keito Hasumi #Kuro Kiryu #Souma Kanzaki #Tomoya Mashiro

15 notes · View notes

ughtoomanyfandoms · 10 months

Text

Preacher’s Daughter (The Last of Us) - Joel Miller: American Teenager

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER American Teenager

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, DEAD PIGEON unprotected sex, religious trauma, gore, violence, swearing, explicit content, sexual violence.

Word Count: 11.8k

Read on AO3 and Wattpad

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER American Teenager

NOVEMBER 2001

The blaze of the torch and heat of the flame is drowned out by the blaring of music through her headphones. Keeping a steady hand and a focused eye on the soldering work she was doing, the ambient noises of the jewelry shop became a distant drum in the background. She had worked her hands raw and rough from polishing and sanding all day, so she sought respite in the tedious soldering work on the jewelry piece she just started.

Finishing the soldering job, she quickly quenches the piece and takes it to the crock pot to begin pickling. As the song blasting through her headphones fades out, she can barely hear her name being called over the music. Quickly, she pushes her headphones from her ears and turns to see her boss waving for her attention.

“How long have you been calling my name?” She lets out with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it,” her boss responds with a smile. “I thought you were off at four? It’s a little after five right now.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she responds. “Totally lost track of time. I’ll start wrapping up and head out.”

Her boss gently tells her to lock up after herself and enjoy her night. Waiting for her piece to finish sitting in the pickle, she begins to clean up her work bench. Quickly locking up, she exits onto the streets of downtown Austin.

She’s walking for a little bit

“Lianne!” A voice calls out. Turning to see who called her name, she sees a bushel of brown curly hair bouncing its way towards her. The young girl is almost unrecognizable. Sarah Miller must have grown four inches since Lianne last saw her before moving to New York. She was no longer the little girl whom she used to babysit, but now has grown into a lovely young lady. Having only seen photographs of Sarah that she had received amongst numerous letters from the girl still could not prepare her for how tall the girl had gotten. While being away for college, her and Sarah still kept weekly contact with phone calls and being each other's pen pals.

“No way,” Lianne laughs out, finding herself already embraced by the tall girl. “Who is this beauty? Sarah Miller? You have gotten way too big.”

Two men follow behind Sarah, and Lianne has to do a double take to realize it’s Sarah’s father, Joel, and his brother, Tommy. Her chest fills with a warm comfort as she sees the older man break into a smile.

“All three Miller’s?” Lianne exclaims. “What are y’all doing here in the city?”

“We were just makin’ our way to dinner,” Joel says with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Come with us!” Sarah bursts, excitedly latching onto Lianne’s arm.

Before Lianne can even think of a response, Joel is saying, “The more the merrier,” and Tommy is pressuring her to join them. Finally agreeing, she’s walking arm and arm with Sarah towards the restaurant.

The drinks are brought and set on the table, and Lianne immediately wraps her hands around the glass in front of her, the coolness soothing to her fingers. Joel brings his glass up to his lips, keeping his eyes on Lianne as she casually glances around the restaurant with the smallest smile on her face. As he sets his drink back down, his eyes cast down to her ringed fingers around her glass.

“You’ve got workin’ hands now,” Joel speaks as he notices the cuts and calluses on Lianne’s fingers. She looks at her worn hands and picks at the green metal shavings stuck beneath her fingernails.

“Yeah, being a bench jeweler is tough shit,” she says with a sigh. Lianne reaches over to Joel and flips his hand over, laying her own hand next to his. “But look, we match now.”

“Yeah,” Joel chuckles. “Being a contractor is tough shit,” his eyes sparkle as he throws her words back at her.

“Language,” Sarah warns, taking a sip of her drink. Lianne only smiles more as she nudges Sarah with her elbow.

“So you two still doing freelance work?” Lianne asks as she looks between the two brothers.

Joel opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by his brother which doesn’t go unnoticed by Lianne.

“We’ve been trying to do as many jobs as we can,” Tommy begins to explain. “Joel here has been readin’ up on doin’ his own thing… Startin’ his own business.”

“Oh, really?” Lianne says with a raise of her brows. “Would you two do it together or would it be a one man show?”

“You know Joel doesn’t work well with others outside his bubble,” Tommy taunts his older brother.

“I wouldn’t even say I work well with you,” Joel mumbles into his glass, the smirk on Tommy’s face growing.

“Well,” Lianne interjects. “If y’all need a welder… I know a guy.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind,” Joel responds, his dark eyes twinkling at Lianne. After a moment of looking over the restaurant’s menu, Joel continues. “So where are you staying now that you’re back in Austin?”

“I just have a studio apartment outside of the city,” Lianne replies, looking up from her menu at Joel. She catches the slightest smile at the corner of his lips as she turns to look at Sarah. “Which y’all are more than welcome to come by any time. It ain’t much but the building has some fun hang out areas.”

This excites Sarah, the girl slightly bouncing in her seat. “Oh, yeah! That sounds so fun! Can we go, Dad?”

“You don’t have to ask him,” Lianne says as she gently nudges Sarah. “You can seriously come over whenever you want.”

“Aren’t you a big-city girl now?” Tommy asks. “I mean, you lived in Manhattan. Would’ve thought you’d be living here downtown.”

Joel stiffens at this, and he clears his throat in his brother's direction. Unphased and smiling, Lianne answers in her cheery voice.

“The city just wasn’t for me anymore,” Lianne begins. “As much as I loved it, I’d rather not be right in the middle of the hustle and bustle anymore, you know? It’s nice to work in the city, that’s not a problem. But it’s just nice to get a little bit away from it all and take a break. Plus, I don’t care for being around tall buildings that much.”

The waitress appears then, making Lianne grateful for the questions to finally not be about her as they order their food.

“What about you, Sarah?” Lianne starts. “What’s new? Talking to any boys or-”

“No.” She is immediately cut off by Joel and Tommy sharply answering the question for Sarah. She can’t help but laugh as she looks at the poor girl who just crosses her arms.

It was as if the connection between Sarah and Lianne never faltered. The space and time that was between them over the last three years seemed to be nonexistent as the two fell right into place with each other. It was as if nothing ever happened, and Lianne’s body was radiating with happiness as she found herself content being in the presence of all three Miller’s.

Dinner flies by, the four of them lost in conversations that became scattered in all dimensions. Laughter would fill the air, and Lianne and Sarah would lean into each other and try to cover their laughs. To feel at home with the Miller’s was a blessing to Lianne. Having been out of their immediate lives and the city of Austin for so long had created a bundle of nerves in her when she first moved back. But having been able to unexpectedly run into her favorite people within the few days she had been back had her at ease in an instant.

“So, are you having a graduation party?” Sarah asks, her eyes beaming. Heat rushes to Lianne’s cheeks, and she tries to hide herself by staring into her glass. She chews on her lip before peeking up through her lashes.

“Actually,” Lianne starts slowly. “I didn’t graduate.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asks.

Lianne doesn’t want to respond, the hesitancy creating a thickness in the air. “I dropped out,” she finally says, almost in a whisper.

“Wait, what?” Tommy asks, almost startled. “Why?”

Joel hasn’t brought himself the courage to elaborate on his reaction. To be shocked was an understatement, and he found a tingle of anticipation in his chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman in front of him, watching the warmth wash over her cheeks. His intense stare didn’t help Lianne. He had adjusted from his relaxed state of leaning back in his chair to now almost sitting on the edge of his seat, arms leaning on the table.

Lianne didn’t want to tell them. The three people around her had been like family to her before she moved away, and they had all been so excited for her to move to the big city and create something for herself and her passion for jewelry. How could she tell them that she couldn’t do it anymore because, what? She was afraid? That she had been there that day in lower Manhattan? That her ex’s brother had been brought home in a box and she couldn’t bring herself to go to the funeral? She didn’t want to think about it anymore. That’s why she came back home. She couldn’t even begin to think of the attention it would bring to her in the conversation. She just wanted to keep the smiles on their faces, not wanting any sympathy from any of them.

All she can do is let out a long sigh as she tries not to let her eyes begin to tear up.

“It was a fun experience and everything,” she begins. “It’s just that it wasn’t really my year. It was just time to go home.”

A silence falls over the group, and Lianne can’t help but let the awkwardness of it claw at her skin.

“Plus,” Lianne adds with a smile, trying in any way to lighten the mood. “It’s warmer here in the winters. Didn’t think I had it in me to tough out another New York winter.”

After dinner, the group decides to head back to Lianne’s apartment to see it for the first time. Sarah is insistent that she rides with Lianne, and Lianne is more than happy to have her tag along. Parting ways, Joel and Tommy climb into Tommy’s truck and begin following Lianne in her little red sedan.

“God damn,” Tommy says on a sigh as he runs his hand down his face.

“What?” Joel asks, keeping his eyes on the car ahead.

“Lianne sure has… grown up,” Tommy replies, a smirk growing on his lips. “You know what I mean.”

Joel rolls his eyes in annoyance at his brother. “Come on, man. Don’t say shit like that.”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy presses. “You have eyes, man. You’ve seen her. All I’m sayin’ is that she got hot.” Tommy eyes his brother, trying to get some kind of reaction from him.

All Joel can do is scowl as his grip gradually tightens on the steering wheel. He and Tommy talked about girls all the time when it was just the two of them. But talking about Lianne like this just felt different to Joel. And what he hated the most, but would never admit, is that his brother was right.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” Lianne says as she enters her apartment. Moving boxes still unopened are stacked in piles. Only a mattress with a pillow in the middle of the floor is on display, along with a green velvet couch alongside the wall. “I’ve really only been in town for a week, and I’ve been working a lot, so…” Lianne continues to explain as the Miller’s enter her apartment.

The three of them say their own “don’t-worry-about-its” as they enter the tiny apartment.

“Has your dad been helping you move in?” Joel asks as he examines the counters in the kitchenette area, running his hands over them.

“No,” Lianne draws out. “I haven’t told him I’m back yet, so it’s just been me and my boxes.”

Sarah takes immediate action, saying they’ll help her start unpacking right away. As much as Lianne protests, the Miller’s decision outweighs her own as they all begin digging through boxes. The girls take over the boxes full of clothes, while Tommy and Joel begin unpacking and assembling the little furniture that Lianne has. Soon, the kitchen cupboards are full of plates and bowls, and drawers are filled with silverware and miscellaneous supplies.

“Thank you guys so much for helping,” Lianne says, placing her hands on her hips, feeling accomplished with the hard work they put in. “There has to be some way I can repay you.”

“Mmm, you can’t,” Sarah says with a mischievous smile. “We won’t let you.”

Lianne places her hands on the young girls shoulders and begins pushing her towards the door. “It’s been so great seeing you all again,” Lianne says before she sighs. “You really have no idea… “

The three guests make their way out into the hall, but not before Lianne eagerly tells Sarah to give her a call whenever she wanted to get together.

Over the weeks, Joel had been in and out of her apartment. Making sure the counters were level, fixing a leaky faucet, even retiling her bathroom floor. He heard her complain about the humidity one day, and he was over there that night checking her air conditioning unit to make sure it was satisfactory.

Lianne turned down the volume of the radio as her car approached the Miller’s home, only for Sarah to immediately reach over from her position in the passenger seat to turn the volume up even louder, beaming a smile to Lianne. Sarah’s friends in the back of the car sang their hearts out as Lianne finally parked on the street in front of the house. The evening sun radiated its way into the car, bouncing off of Sarah’s curly hair.

It was surprising to Lianne that Sarah had kept the tape that Lianne’s group of friends from high school made in their shitty little garage band. Sarah loved it and had almost worn the tape out completely. What had Lianne almost in tears was that as soon as the tape began playing in the car, all of Sarah’s friends knew all of the words, too.

The group of young teenage girls giggled and smiled their way out of Lianne’s sedan as they grabbed their shopping bags. Lianne smiled and waved to Sarah as she got out, but Sarah peered back in through the open window.

“You should come in!” Sarah invites with a bright smile. “Dad will want to say hi!”

Agreeing to come in for a few minutes, Lianne follows the group of babbling girls into the house. The aroma of sizzling ground beef and frying peppers instantly hits her.

Sarah has made her way to her father, kissing him on the cheek and saying hello as he works over the stove. Sarah says something to him, and his head turns in Lianne’s direction, his dark eyes taking her in and a smile forming on his lips.

“Hey, look who’s here!” He says. Sarah turns and leaves her fathers side, making her way upstairs to join her friends, but not before she waves to Lianne. “Have a seat,” Joel continues. “I was just finishin’ up dinner.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to be a bother,” Lianne says, waving her hand in excusal. “I just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

“I’ve made plenty,” Joel persists. “I got a house full of girls to feed.”

“And you want one more to stick around?” Lianne teases.

“Eh, what’s one more,” he says with a smile as he pears over to her. “Besides, I’d like the company.”

Accepting Joel’s gracious offer, Lianne sits at the small table and Joel urgently brings a neatly plated dish to her.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he says with a smile as he returns to fix his own plate.

“Starving,” Lianne states. She relishes in the first bite, eyes closing as a hum leaves her mouth. Joel hears it and lets it ring through his ears as he brings his own plate to sit across from her at the table, and the slightest tingle shoots up his spine.

“How is it?” Joel asks her before even thinking about taking a bite of his own.

With her eyes still closed in satisfaction, she replies with, “So fucking good,” around a mouthful of food. Joel only chuckles, but can’t stop the thought of her saying those words as he… He tries not to relish in the thought, pushing it as far from his mind as he can.

“Sarah ain’t botherin’ you too much, is she?” Joel asks her, trying to keep his mind in the present. “You two spend a lot of time together. I’m sure you’d wanna spend your time hanging out with other people your own age.”

“Oh, God, no,” Lianne responds. “It’s nice having her to hangout with. Reminds me of simpler times.”

Lianne’s response stirs something in Joel, pulling at his chest. From the conversations they’ve had about her living in Manhattan and going to college, he knows there’s an unsolvable pain lingering in her. How she lights up about talking about being Sarah’s babysitter in high school and being in a band, and how she seems to almost disappear as she talks about college. He wants to beg her to let him in, to share that pain with him, let him take on some of it as his own.

“So things with your dad are…” Joel says instead.

Lianne let’s out a soft snort as she replies. “Questionable to say the least.”

“How so?”

“Well, I mean, you know, I grew up. The whole cliche college thing, being independent and finding myself. I separated myself from the church and he obviously did not take that well,” Lianne begins to explain. “After that he hasn’t reached out to me. And I guess I didn’t want to reach out to him either. But he called me after, in September… And I finally let him know I was back in Austin. He’s wanting me to come back to the church, but I just can not go back there.”

“So you’re not going to church at all?” Joel asks, surprised.

“I wasn't in New York. But as happy as I am to be back in Austin, it’s been kind of tough. I started going to a new place a couple weeks ago. Just for some peace of mind I guess.”

“You just go by yourself?”

“Yep, just me,” she sighs. “There’s a sermon tomorrow morning at 8:15 if y’all would ever wanna join. But I totally get if that’s not your thing.”

“No, I’d love to,” Joel responds eagerly. “Me and Sarah. We’d love to.”

Lianne beams at him, and the two finish their meals in small conversations. By the end, Lianne has to excuse herself. Although she’s hesitant in doing so, she’s excited to spend the rest of the night with her friends. After helping Joel with the dishes, he follows behind her and walks her to her car at the end of the driveway.

“Y’all do too much for me,” Lianne says with a smile as the two of them reach her car. “I really need to start repaying you guys.”

“We like doin’ it,” Joel responds, a fond smile appearing on his face. “If you need anything, just call me.”

Lianne’s car engine comes to life and she’s immediately rolling down her windows. Joel stands and watches in the driveway, his hands in his pockets.

“You’ll be able to go to church in the morning after being out all night?” He calls out to her.

“Yeah, don’t you know?” She says as she flashes Joel a smile. “I’m basically a pro at this.”

The downtown bar was absolutely packed. Lianne had fallen into step behind her three friends as they made their way through like a pack of sardines. Phoebe, the one leading the group, had begun b-lining straight towards the bar with Julien, the petite dark haired girl behind her, as soon as they stepped foot in the place. Lianne had grabbed Lucy’s arm, the friend right in front of her, and told her she was going to find a high table for the four of them to occupy.

Settling in on one of the stools, Lianne scans her eyes throughout the place, a content smile slightly forming on her lips as her eyes land on her friends. Her view is blocked gradually as a tall, light-haired man approaches the table with a friendly smile.

Phoebe was the one that always assumed the worst in a situation like this, but Lianne just reciprocated the smile.

“You here all alone and you ain’t even drinkin’?” The man says as he finally reaches the table.

Lianne shakes her head with a smile. “I ain’t alone,” she points to her friends who are finally making their way over to her from the bar.

“Well, what’s your poison?” The man says to Lianne. “Lemme get you a drink.”

“She’s driving,” Lucy says as she takes her place next to Lianne. “But you can get us drinks.”

The man smiles at Lucy, and turns to wave over a few of his friends. They kept their word and bought the next round of drinks for the girls, and then the next round, and then the next. At some point during the night, Phoebe and Julien had gotten up to do karaoke with a few of the guys. Phoebe and Julien, ever the life of the party, continued to be swayed with drink after drink from the man and his friends, becoming completely obliterated.

“Okay, okay!” Lucy shouts to get everyone’s attention. “The girls and I were having a writing session today and we want y’alls input. We were talkin’ about times where we thought ‘Oh, shit, we’re all gonna die.’” Lucy and the girls let out a few drunken giggles. “I wanna hear your ‘We’re all gonna die’ moments and feel inspired by your stories.”

Lianne nearly froze on the spot, her blood running cold and her stomach turning.

The guys begin talking immediately, stories about getting caught and running from the cops, riding broncos and nearly getting trampled to death.

Turning expectantly to Lianne, the light hair man questions her. “What about you, sweetheart?”

Julien groans from her spot next to Lianne, gagging exaggeratingly and the pet name. Lianne just laughs and falls into her friend’s side.

“I mean,” Lianne starts as she wraps her fingers around her cup of water. “The whole thing in New York. I thought the world was ending that day-“

“What, you mean the towers?” One of the guys asks, his words slightly slurring together. “We were all scared that day. That’s a universal experience.”

Before Lianne can reply, Phoebe is at her service.

“She was there, you asshole,” Phoebe snaps. All of the men’s eyes are on Lianne now. Her cheeks heat up and she wants to disappear, but Julien gently leans her head on her shoulder, keeping her steady in the moment.

“Oh, shit,” the light haired man says. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine now,” Lianne nods. “Looking back at it and knowing what happened, it’s kind of silly to think we were all going to die.”

A moment passes, stabbing Lianne in the gut.

“But,” she continues, changing the subject. “I used to have these dreams as a kid. They were always the same. Just a lot of fighting, blood, screaming. Mostly just men tearing each other a part. I had no idea where I was or what they were fighting about, but I knew I was fighting with them. Or against them. I just remember having the feeling that we were all going to die… and then I would wake up.”

There’s a brief moment of stillness amongst the group, when one of the men slowly let’s out, “Damn, that’s crazy.”

“You know, I might like you less now that y’all know me so well,” Lianne just let’s out a chuckle and clutches her drink. The conversations move else where, and Lianne spends the rest of the night mothering her drunken friends.

“What else is there to do ‘round here?” The light-haired man has to shout to Lianne over the noise of the bar, leaning in closer to her. “Me and the boys are ranchers out in the Hill Country, so we don’t come into the city too often.”

“Well,” Lianne starts. “What is it y’all like to do?”

Before she can get an answer from him, Julien has pushed up to her other side, breath reeking of alcohol and her eyes bloodshot. Lianne turns to her friend and a wave of worry washes over her at the morbid state of her friend.

“I threw up,” Julien says, trying to keep her eyes focused on Lianne. “Outside.”

Lianne runs her hand over her friend's long dark hair and turns back to the man.

“I think that means it’s time to go,” she says with a friendly smile. Before the man can say anything to try to get her to stay longer, she’s scooping an arm around Julien’s back and making her way to Lucy and Phoebe. Phoebe is in as equally bad shape as Julien, but as soon as the four of them are met back together as a group, Phoebe and Julien fall into a conversation of blissful laughter.

“Do y’all need a ride?” The tall man calls after her. “Or let me help y’all get to your car, at least.”

Lianne waves him off, insisting that she has everything under control as Julien drunkenly clings to her.

It would have seemed a nearly impossible feat to get all the girls to Lianne’s car, but after what felt like a full marathon they finally reached Lianne’s car. Helping everyone in, situated, and buckled was another near impossible task, like wrangling a gang of monkeys with their arms flailing about. Finally in the driver’s seat, Lianne turns the key to ignite the engine. Only silence is what’s to follow. She tries the key again, more sputtering and no roar of the engine.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Lianne mumbles.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy says from the passenger seat.

“My car must be dead or something, it won’t start.”

“Does this mean we have to get out of the car?” Julien whines, throwing her head back against the headrest.

Unfortunately, Lianne helps the girls out of the car and back onto their feet. Not sure what to do and how to get her friends home, Lianne thinks about the offer that man had made her at the bar about taking them home. She more than considers it, but he’d been driving that night and it could all just be too risky.

Luckily having parked right by a payphone, Lianne dials the only number she has memorized and prays that they answer. After the fourth ring, the person on the other line picks up, taking a moment before speaking into the phone.

“Hello?” Answers a groggy voice, deep and raspy from sleep.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, Joel, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Lianne whispers in a rush.

“‘S all right,” Joel replies, his voice more urgent and awake now. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everyone’s good. We were just leaving the bar but my car won’t start. I wouldn’t have called but I assumed Tommy would also be out drinking tonight, and you’re kinda the only other person I know in town.”

“Which bar are you at?”

Lianne tells him the bar, and he immediately tells her he’s on his way. Trying to rangle in the drunk group of girls, Lianne assists them all back to the bar. Stumbling and cackling the entire way, Lianne tries to direct her friends closer to the building in hopes of a bench for at least the inebriated girls can sit still without the possibility of falling over and getting hurt.

Lucy being the least drunk of them all, besides Lianne, is almost carrying Julien as they all near the entrance of the bar. Lucky enough, there is a bench out front. Annoyance sneaks it’s way into Lianne as she realizes the occupants of said bench are the same guys from earlier who had brought them all drinks. As the girls get closer, the broader of the men nudges his friend next to him and nods in the girls direction. The two on the bench get up and gesture to it, allowing Lianne to quite literally dump a drunk Phoebe onto the bench. Julien and Lucy fumble their way onto the bench as well, the three girls leaning into each other as their laughter is uncontrollable.

Lianne waves a thanks to the men who offered their seats, and they take that as a sign to initiate conversation. Zoning in and out of conversation, Lianne leaves it to her girlfriends to entertain the guys with their drunken chatter. After a while, the group is suddenly flooded in a white light of headlights as Joel pulls up to the bar. He steps out of the truck with a sense of urgency, but upon seeing Lianne’s smiling face, his shoulders relax and his once unknowingly clenched jaw drops lightly. Pulling the girls away from the guys, Lianne helps them up into Joel’s truck in a hastily manner, exhausted and just wanting to lay down.

“They give you much trouble?” Joel asks as he starts the truck back up. He looks over to Lianne as she puts her seatbelt on, watching her arms move across her body.

“These three?” Lianne asks with a laugh. “Nah, they ain’t too bad.”

She turns to see Joel has his mouth open as if to say something else, but no words come out. His eyes shift briefly to the group of men still standing outside the bar, just for a second. Lianne follows his gaze.

“Oh, them?” Lianne says in realization. “They ain’t too bad either. Bought the girls a couple of drinks and talked to us for a while. So much for a girls night.”

This made Joel laugh. Satisfied with Lianne’s answer, he puts the truck in reverse and reaches his hand to settle on Lianne’s headrest as he turns around in his seat. The proximity of his hand so close to her is enough to intoxicate her.

After a few moments of silence on the drive, Joel finally asks, “Where am I taking you to?”

“Everyone’s just staying at my place,” Lianne replies. “So you can just take us there. Thanks again for picking us up.”

The three girls in the back are still lost in delirious conversation, Lucy barely hanging on to consciousness as she attempts to keep up with Phoebe and Julien’s intensity.

“Y’all have fun tonight?” Joel says with a smile as he looks at the three in the back through his rear-view mirror. He’s answered by all three of the girls at once, each trying to talk over each other as their hands move in dramatic storytelling. Joel’s smile widens as he looks at Lianne, who closes her tired eyes in a soft laugh.

Eventually parking in front of Lianne’s apartment complex, Joel gets out of the truck and begins helping the girls out, careful not to let them fall from the truck. Lianne has Julien’s arm draped over her shoulder as she helps her to up the stairs to the front of the complex.

“Do you need help gettin’ them up there?” Joel asks.

As Lianne insists that she’s got it under control, Phoebe leaves her spot from Lucy’s side and latches herself onto Julien, almost knocking the trio over. Lianne let’s out a loud laugh with Julien, and Joel can’t help but lean against his truck and smile.

“Thank you so much again, for everything!” Lianne calls over her shoulder as she approaches the front door of the building.

Joel just waves. He can’t help but chuckle as he watches the four try to meander their way up the steps and into the building. It isn’t until he sees the door close behind him that he hops back in the truck and drives away.

Lianne has thrown Phoebe and Julien onto the mattress, which now thankfully has a bed frame thanks to Joel.

“Lianne,” Phoebe starts. “That man is hot.”

“That man is old,” Julien says, her lips curling up in partial disgust.

“That’s, like, the perfect combo,” Phoebe responds. “Plus he obviously wants to hook up with you. Who the hell wakes up at three in the morning to pick up a bunch of drunk girls?”

“Don’t put that in my head,” Lianne groans as she tucks blankets around Phoebe. “Joel’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Phoebe mumbles as drowsiness consumes her. “A hot gentleman.”

“An old gentleman,” Julien pipes up from her spot next to Phoebe.

“Y’all just shut up and leave Lianne alone,” Lucy says from her spot on the couch. “Just be grateful we aren’t still sitting stranded at that bar.”

Lianne can’t help but think about how quick Joel was to come to her and her friends aid that night. She even found herself questioning if he was worried or not when he had found them there at the bar. She thinks again of how his hand was so close to her in the truck, how his hands gripped the steering wheel, how the crinkle of his eyes melted her to the bone. How she often catches his deep brown eyes peering up at her from behind his lashes, and how those same eyes could look while he…

A pit of fire lights in her gut and a shiver runs down her spine. Tossing and turning and being surrounded by bodies built an irritating frustration in her. Finally getting up, and knowing damn well she had to be up early for church - with Joel - she found herself in her kitchen and losing herself to a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey that Joel had gotten for her as a housewarming gift.

Picturing Joel in his Sunday best for tomorrow’s sermon made Lianne want to rip her hair out. It was the one thing that was completely out of character for Joel, but it was still so domestic, and that’s what was driving her crazy. He was going tomorrow because she had asked him to.

And he hadn’t hesitated on saying yes.

The sunlight burning her eyes, even though they’re shut, wakes Lianne from a terrible sleep as she lets out a long groan. Slowly, she lifts her head from the table, not daring to open her eyes in the bright sunlight. Rubbing at the back of her neck, she looks at the oven to check the time.

“Shit,” she mutters as she jumps up, pounding in her head bringing her back down to her seat. She forces herself to get up and heads to her small bathroom, quietly hurrying around her knocked out friends. She roughly pulls the brush through her hair and rinses her mouth with mouthwash, the sharp minty flavor making her gag over the sink.

Sneaking back into the main room, she pulls a blue velvet wrap-around dress out of her closet and quickly ties it around her. From the coat hanger, she slips into a burgundy blazer which also happens to be velvet. Too worried about the time to bother with the conundrum of wearing two items with the same fabric, she quickly slips on a pair of flats and pulls her long hair out from her blazer.

“Velvet on velvet,” she hears Lucy say from the couch. “That’s hot.”

“Shut up,” Lianne teases. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to church.”

Not needing to be told twice, Lucy salutes to Lianne and rolls back into a peaceful sleep. Envious, Lianne grabs her bag and glasses and heads down to the street below. It isn’t until she’s outside, head pounding and sunglasses barely doing their job at blocking out the sun, that she remembers last night. Her fucking car is still at the bar.

“Shit,” she says again, more urgently this time. Running a hand through her hair, she begins to run to the bus stop at the end of the street. Fighting back the need to expel the liquor from her gut, she waves down the bus just in time. Out of breath and trying to hold herself together, she leans against the metal pole in the bus aisle, the coolness helping relieve her nausea as she leans her forehead against it.

“You look like crap,” Sarah says as she examines Lianne. Having gotten off the bus and hiking her way to the church, the wind had Lianne’s hair ran through by the time she got there. Dehydrated and sweaty, she was barely making it up the steps to the church.

“Hey, now,” Lianne huffs out as she reaches Sarah and Joel. “I crossed mountains and oceans to be with you here today.”

She hears Joel let out a chuckle, which finally allows her eyes to drag over to him. Just like she suspected, his Sunday best. A soft white button down tucked into a pair of dark jeans, covered by a black suit jacket.

“Oh, Joel,” she almost hums. “You even went through the effort of doing your hair. And I look like this.”

He lets out a loud chuckle as his cheeks turn red from the compliment. “Come on, you look real nice, Lianne.” He says it with a sarcastic smile, but still can’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks.

“Whatever,” Lianne sighs, making her way between the pair. “I need to sit down.”

Making their way into the church and grabbing a seat, Lianne can’t help but to feel that little bit of longing pulling at her heart. Being surrounded by a room full of faces that she doesn’t know, yet still expecting to see her father up at the front of the aisle. The thought is dizzying, but she grounds herself in the seat next to Sarah and pushes away the longing before it turns into pain.

Throughout the service, hymns are sung, and the constant up and down has Lianne almost bent over, gripping her knees as she pushes herself to stand. The swirling pit of her stomach making her want to heave each time she stands.

Singing along with the hymnal choir, Joel doesn’t utter a sound, purely focused on hearing Lianne sing next to his daughter. He becomes so intent on her voice that it almost becomes the only noise he can hear. Lianne tries not to notice his intense stare, but nevertheless his gaze causes her cheeks to flush.

At one point during the service, Lianne looks to Sarah to whisper something to her, but the poor girl has leant her head against her father’s shoulder and dozed off. She looks up to Joel, a warmness in her eyes. He just gives an apologetic shrug, but his eyes soften as he looks at his sleeping daughter. A bubble begins to grow in Lianne’s chest as she watches how Joel looks at Sarah, a kind of bubble that she is still unsure of.

Sarah had called earlier that day. A few weeks ago she had given Lianne a coupon to their favorite restaurant in hopes they could go together. Sarah was able to catch Lianne on the phone during her lunch break to set up a time for the two of them to go get dinner tonight. And that’s where Lianne was headed right now.

Stepping off the bus, Lianne made her way through the warm summer air and felt grateful to be back in Austin. The summers in New York were nice, but the wind in the city was the death of her. The still warm air of the western night clung to her skin and carried her to the Miller’s house. Reaching the door she let a rhythmic knock make it’s way through the door. In the stillness that followed, she hesitated to knock again. As she decided to try to ring the doorbell, the door was pulled open by a freshly-dressed Joel, wet hair combed back. The fresh scent of his shampoo wafting over Lianne, almost making her dizzy.

“Oh, hey,” his eyes warmed into a smile. “What’re you doing here?”

Lianne’s eyes sparkled as she smiled in response. “Sarah called earlier. Her and I were going to get dinner at that restaurant we like near the city. I told her I’d come pick her up after work so we could go together.”

Joel’s brows knit together as he looks over his shoulder back into the house. “Sarah ain’t home tonight,” he says, turning back to Lianne. “She’s at a friend’s house for the night.”

“Oh!” Lianne starts to rummage through her bag and pulls out a slip of paper. “Well, she gave me this coupon that’s only good for a while and she suggested we go tonight.”

Joel lets out a low chuckle and rubs at the back of his neck. “Of course, she did,” he mumbles.

Lianne pauses for a minute and chews at her lip before sending a squint towards Joel. “Well, what are you doing tonight? I still have this coupon, and I’d hate for it to go to waste.” She smiles as she flicks the coupon through the air. “Come on! My car’s in the shop, so if you fly, I’ll buy.”

“Sure, why not,” Joel shrugs with a smile. He has to stop himself from immediately walking out the door with her, trying to take his time getting his keys and locking up.

At first walking side by side to Joel’s truck, he beats her to it and opens the passenger door for her, even offering his hand to help her step up into it. This most simple and kind gesture has butterflies stirring in Lianne’s stomach that she tries not to let spill out.

The ride to the restaurant was relatively quiet, Joel’s radio of old country music softly filling the air. At the restaurant, the conversations consisted mostly of their days at work. Joel had been finishing the decking on a new house in an up and coming subdivision. Lianne had been working on a custom chainwork piece for a client of the shop.

They exchanged their own stories of the scars on their hands, either getting bashed by a hammer or burnt with a torch. Reminiscing on younger days with Sarah, and how she was still a die hard fan of Luanne’s old high school band with the girls. It was even decided between Lianne and Joel that the band of girls would play together again at Sarah’s next birthday party.

Having had enough of the dim atmosphere of the restaurant on such a beautiful day, Lianne had convinced Joel to stop at the ice cream shop next door for dessert. But it was Joel who suggested they sit on a bench outside at the nearby park to eat their dessert as they watched the sunset. And that’s where Lianne found herself now, spooning out her ice cream and soaking up the golden sun.

“It’s been real nice having you back here,” Joel finally says. It’s a thought that he’s been keeping to himself over the weeks Lianne has been spending with him and Sarah. For a moment he felt selfish that Sarah was absent tonight, and that he got to spend this night just him and Lianne. Keeping it subtle, Joel continues. “Sarah’s missed you quite a bit.”

Lianne smiles as she scoops out another spoonful of ice cream. “It was a really hard decision to come back home,” she starts. “But now the more I’m here the more I feel like I made the right decision.”

Joel gives her a knowing look. His gaze never leaves her, and her skin prickles with the intensity of his stare. She finally turns to meet his gaze to see his eyes squinting in curiosity.

“Go ahead,” she lets out. “Ask away, I’m an open book.”

“Why did you really decide to come back home?”

She turns away from Joel, squinting into the sun as it starts to set. “I had been living with my boyfriend - my ex, now - and some friends in the city when the planes hit. I lost a few people that I knew that day, and my ex lost his brother and things between us started to get really bad. After September I started to really go downhill. My grades got worse, I could barely leave my apartment. I couldn’t really eat or sleep. By the end of October I just couldn’t do it anymore. I just wanted some normalcy.” She glances down at her ice cream before looking to Joel to say, “And I feel really normal with you and Sarah.”

Joel’s fingers twitch with the want to run his hands through her hair and hold her. He compromises by laying his hand and the bottom of her neck. Her skin can’t help but burst into red flame at the contact of his rough hand.

“Well, like I said,” Joel says after clearing his throat. “It’s been real good having you back around.”

Lianne smiles back in response, happiness blossoming in her chest. She scoots closer to Joel and rests her head on his shoulder. The happiness in her chest spreads to Joel, blossoming just as much as he rests his head on hers.

The post-dessert drive is spent in a relaxed quiet, the hum of the radio consistent under brief small talk. Not quite ready to say goodbye to her and return to the silence of his home, Joel had offered to fix them a few drinks back at his place, which Lianne of course accepted. Apparently he can make a killer Olde Fashioned.

Having been sipping on her drink that Joel had made her, she sets the half full glass down on the coffee table that sits in front of the couch. Joel sure knows how to make a strong drink, the liquor causing a warm buzz to flow through Lianne. Leaning back into her spot on the couch, Lianne suddenly realizes just how close the two of them are together on the couch.

He’s just a reach away, and she finds herself only half listening to what he’s briefly saying. His elbow is perched on the back of the couch and he rests his head against his closed hand. Lianne could get lost in his deep and dark eyes, and she finds her gaze fighting to stay on his eyes and not become distracted with the movement of his mouth.

Letting what little liquid courage she consumed take control for a moment, Lianne swiftly moves forward to gently press her lips to Joel’s. He becomes rigid, frozen by the gesture and it has Lianne pulling away quickly, a hand raising to her mouth.

“I- I am so sorry,” Lianne says in a hushed tone, dread rising from her stomach which pushes her to rise to her feet. Panic begins to spark in her, moving her feet forwards and away from the couch.

She doesn’t feel Joel move from his position on the couch to immediately tail after her, catching her arm when he gets closer. Turning her towards him, she lifts her gaze to meet his, his brows slightly knitted together as he stares intently into her. His hands slowly come up and rest on either side of her neck, and he’s still just staring at her, and it’s killing her. She wants him to say, “Hey, it’s okay. Happens more than you think.” Or, “I appreciate it, but there’s no way in hell.” She just wants him to say something, to say anything so that she can be free of his grasp. Slowly, he pulls her into him and encapsulates her lips with his own. Soft, sweet, but underneath it all, full of need and hope. Only after a moment does he pull away to look at her, his eyes drifting to her lips, needing them again.

“There was no way in Hell I was going to make the first move with you,” he whispers as he lets out a small chuckle.

Before he can say anything else, Lianne is grabbing his shirt and pushing her lips back to his. His hands make their way to tangle in her hair, pulling her even closer into him. The push and pull of their bodies becomes dance-like, slowly moving towards the stairs with Lianne’s full intent to get Joel up them.

Joel isn’t just nice. He’s not just a gentleman. He is a man who is able to say no. And he isn’t saying no right now.

“I want to take this slow with you,” he whispers as he holds her face in his hands. His eyes roam her face, trying to take in every little detail and figure out what she’s thinking. She’s looking at him with hooded eyes, and he swears his heart stops in his chest.

“I think we’ve taken it slow enough, Joel,” is all she has to say before he’s crashing his lips back onto hers. His name falling softly from her lips makes him weak in his legs, his arms, anywhere that once stood strong melted by a single breath.

The two of them had managed their way to dance their bodies through the living room, up the stairs, and into Joel’s bedroom. He tried apologizing for the mess, but Lianne had fervently replaced his words with her lips as she moved her hands to feel him.

It might have just been the drink Joel had fixed her, but she felt drunk in the presence of him alone. A wave of confidence came over her, flaring a sense of urgency within her. She needed him to see her. She needed to show him how good she could be for him, how soft and ready she was for him. Reaching out, she brought his hands to the bottom of her shirt. She looked back up to see his soft gaze on hers, a look of almost uncertainty in his eyes. Lianne nodded to him, encouraging him that she wanted him to undress her. Slowly, he lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. As soon as he went to toss it to the floor, Lianne was unbuttoning her pants and discarding them to the side. Standing, she was again met with Joel’s soft gaze, his mouth softly ajar and his dark eyes furrowing in anticipation. His breathing had hitched, unnoticeably, for just a moment as his heartbeat grew louder. Slowly, Lianne reached behind her to unclasp her bra, her fingers gingerly pulling the straps down her shoulder and tossing her bra onto the floor.

“Jesus,” Joel sighed, his jaw becoming slack and his eyes becoming soft. He gently reached out to graze his fingers over her collarbone, slowly dragging his hand down her side to rest on her hip. “You… you are going to be the death of me.”

Lianne smiles, trying to hide the blush that rises in her cheeks. Joel silently began to work on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Lianne finally reached to him and helped him tug it off, letting her eyes trail over his exposed skin. With no fabric to cover him, the quick rise and fall of his chest only became more apparent to Lianne as she observed him.

Lianne gently set her hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart race under the warm skin, and she smiled. She watched as Joel’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her hand around his neck to pull him closer to her. His rapid breaths fanned against her face, making her stomach drop in anticipation. She slowly leaned forward to drag her lips across the skin of his neck. The scent of his cologne still lingered on his skin, and Lianne inhaled deeply, wanting to drink all of him in. She finally began to press soft kisses along his jaw, trailing them lower to the pulse point in his neck.

One of Joel’s hands landed heavily on her waist and he wasted no time rubbing encouraging circles over her hip with his rough thumb. She hummed against his skin, pressing her chest against his. Trying as best she could to keep her hand steady, she trailed her fingers down his chest, slowly finding her way to the buckle of his belt. Joel shivered lightly, the grip on her waist becoming tighter. She slowly began to undo the buckle, watching his eyes for any sign that he wanted her to stop. His eyes remained focused on her working hands, until he finally pulled them up to meet her eyes, his mouth parted in an attempt to keep his breathing steady. Seeing the expression on his face, Lianne gave him a small smile before finally unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down. She pressed through her hesitancy, and unknowingly held her breath as she rested her hand over his pants. Joel’s breath hitched and his hand slid around her back to hold her tighter to his chest. With her face now hidden in his neck, Lianne couldn’t see his reaction, but took the firm pressure of his hand on her back as a sign to continue. She palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm, planting sweet kisses onto his neck and shoulder.

Wanting more, Lianne pulled away and let her hand fall away from him. Before she could begin to sink to her knees, Joel pulled her close to him again, hands cupping her face as he hungrily pressed his lips to hers. In swift movements, he had her spun around and on her back on his bed, hovering over her as they both moved their way to the top of the bed. Joel settled between her legs, placing his palm on her stomach to trace up to her chest. Lianne’s heart pounded heavily in her chest, and she was aching for him, almost begging him with her eyes to just do something. To do anything.

Joel was suddenly on her, fingers tracing over her nipples and palming her breasts before connecting his lips to her skin. Lianne let out a heavy sigh, running her hand over Joel’s shoulder to the skin on his back to hold him closer to her. His teeth began to graze her sensitive skin, causing her back to arch up off the bed and press into him. Continuing his movements, he shifted his intentions to her other breast, closing his eyes as he wet her skin with his mouth. His free hand began drifting down her stomach as she moved beneath him, his fingers tickling over her skin. Finally reaching her underwear, he cupped her through the fabric. Uncontrollably, her hips stuttered upward to press further into his hand, and he groaned into her chest.

He murmured sweet phrases into her skin, unbeknownst to Lianne as her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears. Continuing to trail kisses across her chest, Joel pulled the fabric of her underwear to the side, finally touching her with no barrier. He groaned as he dipped a finger between her warm folds, gliding it up and down along her core. Swirling the tip of his finger around her, Lianne let out a stifled whimper as her hips began to grind desperately against his hand.

Bringing his face up to rest beside hers, Joel kissed her tenderly on her temple before murmuring into her ear, “I want to taste you.”

Lianne didn’t say anything, silenced by the feeling of his fingers against her until he pushed for a response by whispering her name in her ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“Anything,” she replied breathlessly. “Please. Do whatever you want to me.”

“You sure about that?” he murmured, only getting a nod in response. He let out a soft chuckle before saying, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Joel spread her legs apart, fingers digging into her skin as he held her thighs against the bed. Joel let out a deep moan that echoed through the room as he took in the sight of her before him. To Lianne, his movements were a slow torture as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses onto her hips, moving to the inside of her thighs, until his hot breaths were finally fanning across her core.

The moment his tongue was on her, fire raced through her veins and she knew there was no going back after this. A sigh of relief slipped from her lips, and her head tilted back as he licked a long stripe up the entire length of her. A muffled but raspy groan vibrated against her as Joel pressed messy kisses against her. Finally gaining enough willpower, Lianne looked down and gasped at the sight of Joel’s eyes already on her, watching her reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled against her, causing her to twitch at the feeling of his lips brushing against her clit. He continued his circular motions until she was moaning his name, her thighs tensing against his hold, her muscles screaming to hold him against her.

She whispered his name repeatedly until it didn’t even feel like a word to her, but more of a prayer. His tongue continued to relish in her, until she was begging for him to let her come. Joel moved his hands to grip her hips tightly, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in her body tighten until she was gasping. Lianne had latched her fingers into his hair to pull him impossibly closer as his mouth moved against her.

“Joel,” she groaned, only earning a hum in response as his movements never ended. “Fuck, Joel, I’m-”

He moaned eagerly into her, and that was all she needed to be thrown over the edge and into her orgasm. Her body was on fire, vibrating against him as she trembled against him. Joel’s hands held her hips steady with a deadly grip, never letting go until she began to relax into the mattress.

Still gasping for air, Lianne reached down and pulled Joel to her, melting her lips against his. His growing cock brushed against her thigh, the fabric of his underwear scratching her soft skin. She reached her hand down between them, slipping her fingers into his waistband to feel him. He gasped at her touch, eyes following her hand down to where she touched him. His eyes were deep and dark as they returned to look into her own, causing the fire to ignite once again in the pit of her stomach. She needed him. She needed all of him, now.

With quick movements, Lianne hastily shuffled out of her underwear, Joel following suit and shuffling out of his own. She could see him now, letting out a soft gasp as she took him in her hand again. Lianne moved with the intent to flip onto her stomach, but Joel stopped her by catching her hips with his hands.

“Just like this,” Joel murmurs, kissing along her jaw. “Wanna look at you.” Heat rose to her chest, her heartbeat increasing with his soft words.

Joel’s hand came up to rest against her hair, gently taking a handful of her hair to get lost in. His eyes were pleading to her as he nodded to her, giving her all control over him. Slowly, she brought him to her, sliding his member in between her wet folds. A mumble of curses left Joel’s lips at the sensation, and he rested his forehead on hers to steady himself. She lifted her hips beneath him, her eagerness escaping her as she bit into her lip. Slowly, she began to push the tip of him into her, watching Joel’s face for any sign of hesitancy. She grips her other hand onto his shoulder in anticipation as his fingers tighten their grip in her hair. His eyes met hers, and he could see the fire within them and the flush of her cheeks. Without thinking, he pushes himself fully in her, the two of them gasping at the sensation of their bodies connecting. She pushes her chest up into him, drunk on the sensation of the stretch that he’s created within her.

“Christ,” Joel huffed, letting them both get adjusted to the feeling of their bodies connected. Lianne wrapped a leg lazily over his waist, urging him to continue, while Joel equally as lazy ran his free hand down her side to palm at her flesh. Slowly, he pulled back from her before pressing back into her, catching her gasp with his lips. Her hand moving to his hair was the silent confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of her before moving into her only slightly harder, beginning a tender and steady pace.

His hand that was tangled in her hair moved down to grip the base of her skull, his thumb resting on her jaw as he rocked his hips into her. He whispered gentle praises into her skin, making her skin burn. Still sensitive from her previous orgasm, liquid heat spread through her abdomen and curled in her veins, turning her entire body into a mess beneath Joel. He took his time with her, pressing kisses anywhere he had access to, his pace only picking up slightly. He finally stretched a hand down to where the two of them connected, rubbing needy circles into her clit. The sudden motion had her tightening around him, causing small grunts to leave his chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured as he watched where he slipped in and out of her. “Takin’ it so well.”

Small curses left her mouth and she gripped his arm tightly as she felt herself nearing her end. She was overwhelmed with his essence, feeling him everywhere so perfectly connected with her. His fingers on her clit pressed harder, causing her head to spin before the coil in her stomach snapped. All air left her body, her back arching off the bed and further into Joel, his name barely a whisper falling from her lips. Her orgasm rocked through her body to the bone, all feelings fleeting as her vision blurred and her legs went numb. Joel’s pacing stuttered and he had to grip the pillow next to Lianne to keep from ripping into her flesh. After trying to hold out to help her come back from her high, he urgently pulled out and painted her skin with his spend.

Breathless and sweaty, Joel all but fell onto her, resting his head on hers as her hand weakly raked through his dark hair. Joel had tried apologizing for not asking her where he should finish, but she only chuckled at him, the vibrations of her chest radiating into his, causing him to laugh quietly as he nuzzled into her neck and kissed a mark into her throat.

The two laid there trying to catch their breath, completely blissed out to form any sort of thought. Joel had rolled onto his back, pulling Lianne into his side. One hand played gently in her hair, while the other pulled her leg up to his waist to trace delicate patterns into her skin. Lianne’s hand had come up to his chest, reciprocating the act of dancing patterns into his skin. Her movements slowed and her body became heavy while Joel continued to run his hand through her hair as he watched her drift to sleep.

The morning sun slowly began to creep its way into the room, lingering around the blissful state of the night before. The two were still fast asleep, both on their stomachs. Joel had one arm tucked under his pillow, the other outstretched for his hand to rest against Lianne’s back, their legs wrapped over another to keep each other close.

Joel had woken before her, eyes blinking open at the sight of the sleeping woman before him. She was facing away from him, but after last night he felt the freedom to gently run his hand up the bare skin of her back to land in her hair, gently playing with the ends. The motion had softly awoken Lianne, and she stirred gently as she turned against her pillow to face Joel. A beam of light slowly began to inch across her face, and Joel once again found himself breathless.

“Hi,” she said with a smile, barely above a whisper. Joel couldn’t even try to stop the smile that snuck onto his face.

“Hi,” he replied gently, taking the time to brush the hair from her face and behind her ear. He nestled himself closer to her, pressing kisses to her shoulder. Moving her arms from under her pillow, Lianne reaches out to him and pulls him closer to her. Joel gently pushes her to roll onto her back as he hovers over her, leaving kisses along her neck as he begins to nestle between her legs, becoming oblivious to the world and to time.

The phone on the bedside table rang violently, snapping Joel back into reality. He lets out a defeated groan, and Lianne chuckles at him as he begrudgingly pulls himself away from her to reach for the phone. Before he can even say hello, the voice on the other end is talking rapidly.

“Oh shit, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” Joel says, bolting from the bed. “What time is it? I’m on my way right now, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the bed. He moves from the bed and tries to find some clothes before explaining to Lianne. “I forgot she wanted me to pick her up at 8.”

“What time is it right now?” Lianne says, eyes wide and she makes her way to slip her underwear back on.

“Almost 8:30,” Joel replies flatly.

“Shit,” Lianne mutters, shaking out her shirt that was crumpled on the floor. “I gotta work at 9.” After shoving her arms in the sleeves of her shirt, she turns to face Joel. “How do you wanna do this?”

He thinks for a minute, zipping his pants before replying. “I can take you home first if you want, then I’ll go get Sarah.”

“My place is on the other side of the city. You said you’re on your way right now, won’t that take too long?” Lianne questions.

Joel lets out a deep sigh as he looks at her, chewing the skin of his thumb as he thinks.

“Don’t worry, I can just take the bus,” Lianne says assuringly as she slips her pants back on.

“Hell no,” Joel says firmly. “I’m not having a nice lady spend the night and then expect her to take the bus.”

“So you want me to pick up Sarah with you?” Lianne asks, her brows raised in surprise.

Joel only nods silently in response.

“Won’t she ask questions?” Lianne asks.

“She doesn’t have to know anything right now, not if you don’t want her to,” Joel says, making his way to the bedroom door, but stopping to plant a quick kiss to Lianne’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

Lianne can only nod, grabbing the rest of her things as she follows Joel down the stairs and out to the truck. The ride to get Sarah is silent, not even the radio is on to cover up the rapid beating of Lianne’s heart. She never felt uneasy like this the mornings after, but it felt as if she was doing the walk of shame right to Sarah, which made everything so much worse.

Pulling up in front of the house that Sarah had stayed out, Joel didn’t even bother getting out of the truck, just blaring on his horn. Lianne had moved to unbuckle herself and move to the back, but Joel had stopped her and told her to stay in the front.

She wants to rip her hair out. She wants to bang her head into the dash in front of her. Dread keeps building and building and wants to push its way out of her at the idea of Sarah getting any idea of what happened. Her heart won’t stop pounding in her chest, but looking out the window and seeing Sarah’s sleepy yet smiling face puts her slightly at ease.

As Sarah gets closer to the truck, she finally sees Lianne in the passenger seat. Her face scrunches in confusion, but only for a brief second, before waving to Lianne and crawling into the back of the truck.

“Hey, girl,” Lianne says to Sarah over her shoulder, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

“Hey,” Sarah smiles. “What’re you doing here?”

Lianne catches Joel’s eye for a moment as she turns back around to face the front. Joel puts the truck in drive and begins to drive away.

“Well, you ditched me last night on our date,” Lianne teases. “So I had to take your old man before that coupon expired.”

“Did you spend the night?” Sarah asks.

“I had some drinks last night. Thought it was best to just sleep it off.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, and Lianne found it to be better to tell her just a teeny bit of the truth. Sarah had given her an incredulous side-eye from the back seat, her brow arching in a suspicious look.

Sarah had kept the ride entertaining with her stories from the past night, keeping the ride across the city full of various conversations. Joel had finally pulled up in front of the small jewelry store Lianne worked at, and as soon as she stepped out of the truck Sarah was scrambling to get to the front seat of Joel’s truck.

“Thanks for the ride,” Lianne said with a smile, peering back in through the truck window.

“Anytime,” Joel calls back. “And thanks for dinner!”

Lianne gives a small wave to him as she reaches the door of the shop. “Anytime,” she replies, the small smile never leaving even as she disappears behind the door.

Next to Joel, Sarah lets out a loud huff.

“What?” Joel asks, impatience in his tone.

“It’s like I’m invisible,” his daughter responds dramatically. Joel doesn’t respond, just rolling his eyes as he puts his truck into drive, pulling away from the store and letting the memory of last night with Lianne linger in his mind.

26 notes · View notes