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auteurdelabre · 4 months

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So Much to Lose Chapter 3 Mean!Joel x f!Reader

So Much to Lose Chapter 3

Summary: Your second time on patrol with the recalcitrant Joel Miller proves... interesting.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 6.0k

Pairings: Mean!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) , Ellie x Dina (future chapters)

Warnings: Joel ain't nice. Hand job (m receiving), mentions of come, dirty talk.

A/N: I hope you like it and if you do please reblog and all that good shit. Thanks y'all!

masterlist

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Chapter 3: You make the rules, remember?

"It's a healthy baby boy!"

There's a large round of applause in the cafeteria the next morning. Tommy is standing at the end of the long tables. Your book is spine -up next to your coffee cup.

"Douglas Joel Miller," Tommy announces. "Just over eight pounds."

You clap along with the rest of them, happy for Tommy and Maria. You love babies, so what's not to be happy about?

Maria is at home resting with their son and some friends Tommy says beaming, eyes wet as he's congratulated on all sides.

You're still sick about yesterday. You'd had to throw away all those clothes. No amount of scrubbing had taken the dried blood out of it. You're convinced you can still smell it, the cloying, metallic scent lodged in your nostrils. It lingers even now, ruining the bites of egg that you push around your plate. The only thing saved was the red scarf, buried in the confines of your jacket. It hangs how it always has, on the hook by your front door.

You watch Tommy accept the congratulations from everyone, looking strangely detached as they continue.

You try to focus on the book in front of you, but the words slide over your eyes and your mind just back to yesterday. To the fear you felt at being exposed and vulnerable. How are you expected to do this week after week?

You glance over to see Tommy smiling weakly and chatting with a group from the kitchen and you wonder if you can approach him about patrols.

"Can I sit here?"

You glance up from your book to see the teenage girl from yesterday, Ellie, smirking down at you, holding a tray of food. A quick glance tells you there are a lot of empty seats left so she's chosen this one on purpose. You almost shake your head no, not desiring the company or the attention right now.

But she kept your secret didn't she? She didn't tell Joel or anyone else about the greenhouse as far as you know.

After a moment's pause you nod, shifting your tray towards you and going back to your book.

She sits abruptly, her tray clattering across from you. She doesn't have the usual breakfast food that others do. She has grilled cheese, a cup of milk and what looks like pudding. Strange girl.

You'd assumed that your lack of engagement, your eyes on your book, your head tilted away from her that Ellie would get the message. She could sit with you for breakfast but that was it. But from the moment she sits, she talks.

"I love grilled cheese."

"Mmm."

"Never had it til I got here. Now I eat it whenever I can." Ellie takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

"Mhmm."

"Before we got here it was Chef Boy-ar-dee ravioli every fucking night. You ever had it?"

"Can't say I have." You turn the page in your book.

"Joel introduced me to it," Ellie says, taking another bite and not noticing when you tense up at his name. "You know Joel?"

"Nope," you lie.

The last thing you want is to talk about Joel Miller when you don't have to. You don't push for more information so the two of you continue to eat in silence. You know that Ellie is watching your face, silently studying you.

"So do you always hide out in the greenhouse?"

"No."

"Were you supposed to be in there?"

You sigh. "Nope."

"Then why were you?"

You sigh again heavily, closing your book with a soft thwap. There will obviously be no more reading this morning. Not with your new guest sitting across from you with curious eyes.

"I just wanted some quiet," you explain patiently. "I have. . . There's a lot going on for me and I feel safe when I'm in there."

There's something about Ellie's eyes that coaxes that truth out of you, the part about feeling safe.

"S' how I feel in the garage."

"The garage?"

"Joel's garage. Well, I guess it's like my place. No cars or anything here obviously. I've ridden in one though." She tells you this with pride. You hide a grin, amused. "I have it decorated exactly how I want and the bed is really comfy. Joel says I can do whatever I want in there except smoke."

"S'a bad habit," you acknowledge.

"Yeah, but that's where I feel safest. When I'm in there but I know Joel's just on the other side of the door if I need him."

You don't know what to say in reply to that. You can't imagine a world in which Joel Miller's presence would make you feel calm.

Ellie chews thoughtfully a moment longer and you see the questions there in her dark eyes.

"What was your favorite thing about before?"

"Before what?"

Ellie makes a motion around the room and you understand. She means before the outbreak. Before things changed. You ponder this a moment before smiling at the first thing that pops into your mind.

"Pop Tarts."

"What the fuck is that?" Ellie asks wrinkling her nose. "Candy?"

"Breakfast pastry," you say with a fond look at the memory. "Strawberry filling. Delicious. Had one every day while I walked to school."

Ellie is fascinated by this and you realize she'll never know a world that's not ravaged by plague. She'll never understand the freedom of your lost youth.

"Have you had one since?"

"Nah," you shake your head. "But I like the memory of them. If I close my eyes and focus I can almost taste it."

You do so now, remembering the way your mom pulled them from the toaster warm and crispy. The way---

You stop, snapping your eyes open. You'd forgotten the inherent danger that came along with the lure of nostalgic memory.

"Anyway..."

Ellie sees something in your face and excuses herself, claiming she needs more milk. You just nod, about to open your book again when another shadow is cast.

Christ, when did you get so popular?

A woman, (Jennifer you think her name is?) is looking sweetly at you. She's just come over from a table of giggling young women. She's very beautiful. You often see her at the Tipsy Bison with whatever bachelor strikes her fancy.

"Hey, are you on C Patrol?"

"I am," you nod.

"The one with Joel Miller?" Jennifer says with a poorly concealed smirk. You give her a strained look, confused at the reaction.

"Uh yeah."

"What's he like?" Jennifer is blushing prettily, trying not to giggle.

"Serious."

Jennifer smiles again. A big, broad smile that makes her lovely face even lovelier. You hold in an eye roll. Oh, now you see where this is going.

"I tried to get put on patrols with him," she confides, her voice dropping. "I'm on Patrol B."

What?

Here you are fighting tooth and nail to get away from Joel Miller and there's someone who actually wants to be on patrols with him? This is your answer to prayer, you're sure of it.

"Why don't we switch then?" You ask, eyes bright. Jennifer looks beside herself with delight, her light eyes rounding.

"Are you serious?"

"You can ask Tommy right now," you enthuse pointing at him on the opposite side of the room. "I'm totally fine with the swap."

"Really?" She looks delighted.

"Really," you nod, trying not to look over eager. You’re worried she’ll grow suspicious of your exuberance but she just smiles and walks off quickly towards Tommy who looks deep in conversation with one of the women on perishables duty.

You go back to your book just in time for Ellie to come back. You immediately notice her contraband; an additional glass of milk.

"Gonna get in trouble."

"Only if you say something," Ellie drawls. "But if you do I might just have to say something about a certain greenhouse..."

You shoot her an amused look before going back at your book. She seems to sense that you need quiet, glancing around the bustling canteen as you fall back into the pages of your book.

You find yourself irritated when Jennifer saunters back to your table, interrupting the comfortable silence.

"He says that we have to stick with our original patrol partners," Jennifer says with a frown. "Says that they match partners up by skill."

Joel is well known as the most skilled aside from Tommy. You can only assume this means you are the worst. You try not to look as devastated as you feel as you force a shrug.

"Oh well, you tried."

You expect her to leave but Jennifer lingers looking torn.

"Maybe if you ask Joel directly?" She hedges, trying not to sound desperate and feeling miserably. "Maybe then he could talk to Tommy himself?"

From the corner of your gaze you catch Ellie giving you a wary look, the walls behind her eyes being rebuilt with every word Jennifer says.

"You're welcome to talk to Joel," you reply smoothly. "You can tell him I'm fine with the swap. Eager for it, actually."

You don't miss the hard look that's come into Ellie's eyes now. You regret lying to her before.

Jennifer looks thoughtful before nodding. "Okay, maybe I will. Thanks."

She gives a wave before sauntering off towards a group of her giggling friends. You hold in an eye roll and open your book.

Ellie is still staring at you. "I thought you said you didn't know Joel."

"Didn't want to hurt your feelings," you admit, not looking up from the page. "He and I don't exactly see eye to eye."

"Not a lotta people do with Joel," Ellie relents, tilting back in her seat to stare at you. "He's tough to get through to."

And yet she did. This tiny teenage girl who talks too much and asks so many questions.

How?

You consider asking before you realize you really don't care to know Joel Miller. So far you've seen nothing about him that seems worth getting to know.

"Yeah, well he seems to have a very specific distaste for me," you say poking at your eggs.

"Don't take it personally," Ellie tells you as if she is full of sage wisdom. "Joel's all bark no bite."

You don't believe that for a second. You think of the dead doe. You think of the blood soaking through your clothes. You think of how he said not one word to you the entire way home.

"Just a personality conflict," you end on. You want to go back to your book but feel Ellie's eyes still on you.

"You wanna know how to make Joel like you?"

Not particularly.

"Sure."

"Don't lie to him. Or me," Ellie says. "We can't stand liars."

You don't know me, you think curious that this girl has chosen to open up to you at all. What makes you think you can trust me at all?

A girl with a long, glossy black braid stops by the table ending your conversation. Her dark eyes immediately alight to Ellie's second milk helping.

"Is that your second one?" The girl asks, her face cloudy. "You know you're not supposed to take extra."

"Fuck off, Dina," Ellie snaps, her eyes flashing.

"I should tell Tommy," Dina says with a narrowing of her dark eyes.

"Go on then," Ellie dares her.

"She got it for me," you break in, plucking the milk from Ellie's tray. "I didn't get one yet."

Dina's eyes sail to you but her scowl remains. She gives your tray a once-over before rolling her eyes.

"She's so annoying," Ellie says rolling her eyes and digging back into her breakfast.

Yet her eyes linger on the girl as she strides past your table to join another group of teens at the far end of the cafeteria. There's a pink to Ellie's cheeks that doesn't go unnoticed by you. But just as she kept your secret, you will keep hers.

She sits with you a few minutes longer watching you read before she gives a quick goodbye and marches out into the day. You're relieved to be away from her scrutiny.

Tommy passes several groups before he notices you hunched over your breakfast. You look up in time to see him slide into the seat Ellie was just occupying. With a sharp sigh you slip your paperback into your coat pocket. Fuck reading today apparently.

"Hey there, how was your first patrol?"

Your initial reaction is to tell him everything in detail. How horrible Joel is, how you never want to do patrols again. That you need to get switched to another job because patrols aren't for you. Instead you give a timid shrug.

"I'm not very good at it."

Tommy is amused, the curve his cheek crinkling as he chuckles. "I'm sure that's not true."

"Go ahead and ask your brother," you mutter, frowning.

"I did. He didn't say anything about you being bad at it."

This is surprising. When you and Joel had arrived back at Jackson with the doe he hadn't said two words to you. Just grunted at you when you dropped your end of the carcass and told him you were leaving.

You squint at Tommy for a moment trying to decipher what game Joel is playing at. You decide that perhaps he didn't want to worry his brother. That he wanted Tommy to think that patrols went well because Tommy had enough to worry about with his son being born.

"So are you still gonna switch patrols with him then?" You ask lightly, trying not to sound eager. "Now that the baby's here safe?"

Tommy's normally playful eyes are soulful. You read concern there. You read fear. They drop to the knotted wood of the table.

"Not for a bit," Tommy says honestly. His voice drops to a quiet whisper, not wanting to be overheard. "Didn't want to tell everyone but Maria's not doing so good."

Concern gnaws at your lower belly. "She sick?"

Tommy's long fingers begin picking away at a chip in the table that doesn't exist. You wait for him to continue, holding the silence there.

"In a way, kinda. She uh, she doesn't really wanna see the baby. S'why her friends are over there now with him."

You recognize this, the sign of a whispered malady that has followed women of all races across centuries. You cannot imagine the impact of giving birth to a child who will live in captivity amongst an undead world. You cannot imagine the mental toll it would take.

You're not demonstrative by nature, especially with people you don't know well. But you see the welling of Tommy's dark eyes and something behind your ribs cracks.

You reach across the table and place your hand over his. "Tommy I get it. You don't have to say anything else. My aunt ... She uh, she had a hard time too after my cousin was born."

"Yeah?"

You nod, taking your hand back when you feel eyes on you from other tables. Tommy's expression has changed, the tears blinked back as he straightens.

"Yeah well. Hope its okay if Joel keeps bein' your partner for a little bit longer."

"Sure," you nod. You have no desire to concern him further with it. "Yeah, that's fine, Tommy. No problem."

Tommy hears his name being called and you wave him off. You watch his long legs scissor across the canteen as you feel your stomach drop.

///

A week goes by so quickly. A week of reading, of brisk morning walks, of tea with some of the girls that rise early like you.

But before long its back to patrol day and you wake with that same sickly sensation in your stomach. Breakfast is swallowed down with force.

You trudge towards the main gates of Jackson City with a new jacket pulled tight around you. This one is heavier and welcome as the chill increases daily. Snow is on its way to Wyoming.

You wave at the men who patrol the main gate today, Peter and Hank. The three of you chat politely even though your stomach is churning.

You turn when you hear the sound of hooves. Joel is approaching with two horses in tow, much to your confusion.

"Horses?" You ask when he nears. "We didn't-"

"First patrol is always on foot," Joel explains gruffly handing you the reigns if the light brown horse. "Helps you understand the land better."

You look over the animal at your shoulder, eyes fixed on the deep brown of its iris. You muse that it looks as nervous as you feel.

"Names Chestnut," Hank tells you. "He's one of the sweet ones."

"Hi there beautiful boy," you murmur gently, your hand going to the soft of the animals nose. "We'll take care of each other out there today, huh?"

You smile when he snuffles your palm before he tries to lick your fingers.

You glance over when you feel Joel's dark eyes fixed on you and the horse. He looks away promptly and you watch him mount his own horse, a mighty looking black creature with a serious countenance.

"What's that one’s name?"

"Get on."

Great, he's irritated with you already. It's going to be a long day. You sigh before pulling yourself up onto the already saddled horse with ease. Chestnut gives a small whinny before settling.

Joel looks momentarily surprised, brows raising a fraction and you know it's because he assumed you'd be useless at this too. But you're an experienced horseback rider, have been since you were a kid.

It secretly pleases you to surprise Joel. To show him there’s a lot you're good at.

"Black ones name is Midnight," Hank tells you with a friendly wink as he comes to unlatch the gate. "Asshole riding him is called Joel."

You hold in a bubble of laughter as Joel sidles alongside you, handing you a gun that you sling over your back. You don't shrink under the weight of it this time, in fact you straighten.

Atop the mighty Chestnut you feel braver. Safer. If something comes for you, you'll see it. This high up you feel so much better. You follow Joel out the gates on his horse, clicking your tongue and tugging gently at the reins.

Chestnut gives you extra confidence today. You follow Joel to do the perimeter check first, eyes scanning around you. You hear Joel gently click his tongue and then you're both off towards the village.

You ride in silence, buoyed by the knowledge that Joel can't critique about how you ride. Instead, you take your time to observe your surroundings. You take in the crisp air and the bent trees you pass.

"Good boy," you murmur every now and then to Chestnut, giving him soft pats as you ride.

You take in Joel's broad shoulders moving ahead of you on Midnight, looking like a modern cowboy in his brown leather jacket. He doesn't spare any kind words for his horse. You wonder how Ellie can stand him.

When you arrive at Teton village an few hours later you're almost in a good mood. It's been nice riding today. The thought that this will be a weekly thing for you no longer intimidates you. Yeah Joel will be there, but if interactions are kept to a minimum then there's no reason that you can't get through this.

You dismount outside the large house, the outpost, like last time. Joel scans the house, dark hand over dark eyes to shield from the sun. He murmurs something to himself.

He moves to tie the horses up, showing you how to tie off their reigns to the tree outside. You watch even though you already know how, nodding and then follow him to the door of the large old building.

"Remember the code?"

You'd written it down the second you got home last week, forcing yourself to commit it to memory. You nod again, quickly turning the numbers to the pattern Joel showed you last time. You hide your relieved grin when it unlocks on the first turn.

You glance at Joel from under your lashes, half expecting praise or even a smile. Of course you receive neither. He simply tugs the door open and enters.

In your haste to follow you trip over a fallen board at the threshold, crashing into his solid back. Joel shrugs you off irritably and you stumble back.

"Sorry was-"

"Shut up," Joel hisses, raising a finger to his lips. His voice drops to a whisper. "I hear somethin'."

All your previous bravado vanishes, left back outside with the horses.

You swallow a whimper, sticking close to him as he pulls the gun from its holster. You do the same, knowing it's more for show then anything.

You follow directly behind Joel as he wanders through the rooms, occasionally stepping on the back of his shoes when he stops abruptly. When you do that he elbows you harshly in the ribs to get you behind him at a good distance. You wince, your fear keeping you close by. Knowing that he's worse than a clicker but he's your only hope.

Finally you reach what he's been searching for. A broken window in the library, glass shattered inside along with what looks like a tree branch. The recent windstorm must have caused the branch to smash through the window. It makes a hollow whistling sound, likely what tipped Joel off.

Relief floods you when Joel re-holsters his gun, his fears allayed for the time being. He strides past you to the old storage room.

You follow after him, nodding when he points at the log book and pencil.

"You remember what to do."

You scrawl your name into the log as Joel watches on. You two take a seat as Joel brings out the sandwiches and Thermos of coffee to share. As you did last time you eat in silence, your eyes everywhere but his direction.

It makes you think of lunch with Ellie and your interaction with Jennifer. You think about bringing both up with Joel but decide against it.

Instead you dart a look at him from under your hair, hoping he doesn't notice. You watch him sip his black coffee, the lid dwarfed by his large hand. You watch the flex of his jaw when he chews. You wonder what kind of work he did before the outbreak. Judging by his frame and calloused fingers you imagine a mechanic or electrician.

He gives you a curious look when he catches you looking at him and you quickly clear your throat.

"I like riding the horses here better than walking." When Joel doesn't reply you feel compelled to keep talking. "Chestnut is especially nice. Do we always ride the same horses or-"

"Do you ever stop talkin'?"

You want to point out that you've barely talked to him at all this entire trip but you have no desire to start a fight. Instead you clamp your lips together, cheeks burning and anger and embarrassment.

After lunch you both stand and as you wipe the crumbs of your sandwich off on your jeans, you watch as Joel scrolls his name into the log. He hands you the solitary pencil.

"Make a note in the log about the cracked window in the southeast corner. S'what we do. Then we report back so the next week they give us supplies to repair it or send others out to do it."

"Okay."

You bend over the log book, clutching the pencil tightly between your fingers. You try to write neatly, attempting to make your normally pinched handwriting legible.

You're not expecting Joel to be so close to you when you finish and back up. It takes you by surprise. He's come over to check that you filled in the log correctly and when you back into his solid form you let out a yelp before the pencil is dropped, disappearing between the cracks of the old floorboard.

"For fucks sake-"

Joel rolls his eyes as you drop to the ground. You know that something like this will make him hate you more. And for some unknown reason this creates a wash of anxiety to cascade over you.

"Shit shit shit."

You're desperate to retrieve the pencil; you even think you could grab it if the floorboards were a bit more spaced apart. You pull at them, chipping one of your nails in process. You hiss pulling back sharply and swearing under your breath.

After several minutes of trying to retrieve it you give up, your face red from excursion and humiliation. You’re swallowing angry tears. It's not the end of the world. There are other pencils that exist but your actions just erased all the goodwill you thought you were building.

But maybe there was none to be built upon because Joel is staring down at you darkly, his hands stemmed at his waist.

"You've been a fucking thorn in my side every fucking moment of today," Joel grimaces.

He's so unfair. He's overlooking every good thing you've done today. Every silent test you've passed. Anger flares within you, a small flame that quickly builds to a towering inferno. You bring yourself to a stand, eyes flashing.

"Maybe if you weren't such a miserable assh-"

The word isn't even halfway out of your mouth when his hand is at the collar of your jacket, just as it had been that first patrol. But now he's using it to push instead of pull. Shoving you into the wall beside the table with its chipped paint and exposed brick. It bites into your back despite your thick jacket. Your toes scrape the floor and your hands go to his fist trying to pull it from your collar, but his grip is vice-like.

He lowers his face close to yours, his hot peanut butter and coffee-laced breath huffing over your cheeks.

"You watch how you speak to me."

"Those my orders for today then?" You scoff sarcastically, feet trying to find purchase on the floorboards below.

He pushes you harder against the wall, your spine flush with its crumbling interior and you wince.

"Fucking smart mouth," Joel rasps. "Should teach you a lesson."

He'd said it to be intimidating. To scare you into submission so he could continue patrols without having to worry about you doing something stupid.

But then the words hung between you both and your reaction wasn't to cower. In fact, even in the dim light of the flashlight he could see the way your pupils overtook your eyes, like tiny blackened moons.

"Are you going to?"

"Going to what?"

"Teach me a lesson?"

Joel is very still. So still you wonder if he's still breathing. His dark eyes scan your face, trying to read your intentions.

"You want me to?"

Joel's hand hasn't released you, hasn't softened at all. But he's curious, that much is clear.

"You give the orders, Joel, not me," you whisper with more confidence than you actually feel. "Remember?"

Joel stares at you for what feels like hours. As if time has lost all meaning, lengthening or shortening at his whim.

You wait for him to yell, to bark out something sinister or cruel. You wait for him to turn away, ignoring you. You receive neither. You instead watch as Joel tilts his frame back from you, gazing down at you through heavy lids.

His hand lowers from your collar and you slump slightly forward from the wall. Your feet gain purchase and you straighten. He's testing you, you think. Seeing if now that he's released you from his grip if you'll run.

But you don't. You continue to stand there, making it perfectly clear that you have no desire to flee. And this registers with him. He sways slightly, sucking his teeth quietly as his eyes drift down your body.

"Take me out of my pants," he rasps, looking at your mouth with no intention of kissing it.

You take a moment to look for any guile in his expression. When you see none, you drop your eyes to his middle and fumble at his belt, your hands trembling. He watches your face as you pop open the button of his jeans and lower his zipper. You swallow as your trembling hand slides between the band of his boxers and his taut abdomen.

He's so warm.

You feel his belly jerk at the sensation of your lowering hand and you bite back a gasp when you feel him already rock hard beneath your palm. You wish it wasn't so dark in this room because you'd like to see the gold of the skin there. To see if it matches the color of his hands or face.

You tug him free of his boxers, letting his heavy cock and balls hang over the band. Just the thought of it makes your mouth water.

He watches you carefully from under his dark lashes.

"Make me come."

Simple instructions. You like that.

You lick your lips nervously, shocked when Joel grips your wrist tightly, drawing your hand to his face and tilting it. There's a moment of true confusion on your part before Joel spits into it your hand. You watch with wide eyes as Joel begins rubbing his saliva into your palm with his wide thumb.

You're disgusted.

You're aroused.

You use the spit in your palm along Joel's shaft, watching his eyes shutter momentarily. Both of his hands are now palm flat against the wall next to your head, boxing you in on either side.

His hips thrust into your slick palm and you give a soft shuddering exhale as you begin to work over him, taking control.

"More around the head," Joel tells you grunting. Just like on patrols he leads and you follow.

You do as he says, slipping your palm along the head to feel sticky precum already beading there.

You use it as an aid, a natural lubricant, twisting your hand slightly as you go. You watch his face, trying to see what he likes. Right now his face is relaxed with his eyes shut lightly. Your left hand goes to his side, holding his jacket pocket as your other hand slides along his twitching member

"Like this?"

He makes a little humming noise to indicate you're doing it correctly. You smile to yourself tilting forward slightly to catch the noise. He's coming closer, his cock sliding quickly between your fingers.

"Your hand's soft."

You think Joel must have said this by accident, because it’s murmured so softly and his eyes crack open as soon as the words hit the air. You realize that it's the first positive thing Joel's ever said to you since you met him.

You smile up at him, rewarded with a gentle smirk at the right corner of his mouth from him before he catches himself and it vanishes.

"Don't," he tells you with a frown.

"What?"

"Don't look at me."

You're taken aback when one wide hand comes to cover your eyes. Its sudden blackness startles you into dropping his cock.

“What’re you-“

"I told you to make me come," Joel growls from behind gritted teeth. "So fucking do it."

Joel's free hand grips yours, thrusting his hard cock back into your palm. You take it, your eyes still in darkness. Without sight you're stuck with only your remaining senses. He smells like wood and sweat and leather from his jacket.

You focus on Joel's breathing now, noting it increase as your hand continues working on him, your fingers moving deftly around his shaft. He breathes through his nose, occasionally swallowing.

"Quick learner," Joel observes with a murmur as you swivel your wrist.

You nod, your face rasping against his palm. Your eyes are shut tightly, he doesn't need to cover them but you think that this must make him feel better. Must make him feel more in control.

"Much better at this than shooting," Joel says condescendingly in the darkness. You think you can almost feel the words being huffed against your mouth. "Turns out your hands were just made for handling cocks, not guns."

You scowl.

"Or maybe it's because you're not getting mad a-"

The rest of your sentence is cut off as two of Joel's large fingers come to either side of your mouth, pinching it shut. Your hand falls from his cock and you imagine it hangs there between his legs heavy and twitching.

His other hand is still covering your eyes so the result is no vision and no breathing through your mouth. It's rather disorienting.

"None a' that," Joel rasps from above you. "No smart mouth unless you want it fucked dumb."

You're body jerks at this quiet proclamation.

I do.

No. I don't.

I do,

No, I can't. I don't.

Stripes of light peek through parted fingers as his hand drops from your slowly opening eyes.

"You do," Joel concludes your internal debate as his eyes swim over your face. His voice, always low and graveled sounds measured, unsure.

"You want me to fuck that smart mouth?"

You don't say anything. You can't. He releases your lips. His heavy hand reaches for yours, twisting it back around the shaft in the way he likes. He holds your hand there, fucking himself into it.

"You want me to stuff your mouth full 'a my cock?" Joel grinds out as he thrusts forward into your waiting hand. His wider one surrounds yours, fingers practically lacing.

You can't help but let out a whimper. Joel's hands go back to the wall above your shoulders and his hips cant forward jerkily.

Your hand begins moving faster and faster over the length of his throbbing cock, your own erratic panting matching that of Joel's. He's looking down into your face now, something in it unlocked.

"Fuckin' that pretty mouth," Joel grunts, his cock pistining in your grip as he stares at your parted lips. "Coming down your throat."

You whimper. Why is this so arousing to you? Why do the things that Joel is saying turn you on so much? Because you dislike him so much that this feels taboo? Because for once Joel isn't critical of something you're doing?

Before you can question it further you feel him swell and pulse in your grip. He spills himself over your knuckles in warm spurts as he lets out a shuddering groan, the warmth of it buffering over your forehead.

You're so still as you stand there watching Joel. You watch him breathing heavily through his nose, the grim set of his mouth as he stares at his softening cock in your hand.

Reality sets in. What you've done and who with.

Without thinking you're moving, twisting and scrambling to get away from him. Needing to leave this crumbling room and Joel's haunted gaze.

Your feet make thudding noises over the warped floorboards, matching in tempo to your rapid heartbeat.

You burst out the front door into the cool afternoon and feel it chill your fevered cheeks. You take several deep breaths, trying to stop the gallop of your heartbeat.

What did you just do?

And with Joel?

You drag your hand through the snow, wiping the proof of your altercation from your skin. You move to Chestnut, resting your forehead against his side. You let the steady breathing of the animal soothe your frazzled nerves.

Joel comes out moments later, completely composed and dressed. He gives you a sharp look.

"Time to head back."

Wanna be put on the tag list? Comment below.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #smut #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #mean!Joel #Mean!JoelMiller #jackson city #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #slow burn #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy ending

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mikeysw1fey · 7 months

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more than a friend?

request linked here

pairing: mikey madison x female reader

warnings: none really

a/n: i don’t like this one too much but it’s alr cause i’m coming out of writers block (yay)

I don’t get jealous. Jealousy is for people who are insecure about themselves… right?

“Mikey I swear. Punch me again and I’ll push you out of this car.” I threaten, a wide smile on my face as I lean as far as I can away from the black haired girl.

“I can’t help it if we keep driving past yellow cars.” Mikey shrugs, her smile matching my own. I simply scoff and roll my eyes. “I’m gonna have bruises on my arm for weeks. People are gonna start to think your abusing me.” I fake pout earning my own eye roll from the driver of the car.

“You’ll live.” Mikey chuckles before pulling up to the restaurant car park. I mock her playfully before exiting the car and following her towards the front door.

As we enter a chorus of whisper yells call our names. Mason, Jenna, Melissa and Jasmin all sit around a table. Mason waves us over and points to two seats beside one another.

“Thought you might wanna sit next to each other.” Jasmin wiggles her eyebrows suggestively causing my cheeks to flush red as I sit in between Jenna and Mikey. Jenna’s elbow nudges my waist as she too chuckles silently. I don’t dare to glance at Mikey in fear I could give away my feelings. That would not go down well.

Picking up the menu I pretend to be interested in the food until my cheeks return to their normal colour. “What you gonna order?” Mikey turns to me with a smile as the rest of the group chatter amongst themselves.

I let out a hum as I debate between the carbonara or the ravioli (pasta is my weakness). “Probably the carbonara.” I shrug causing Mikey to chuckle. “So I guessed right.” She smiles before Jasmin calls her name to get her attention.

Minutes fly by as the six of us talk and laugh. That is until the waiter approaches our table with a broad smile. “Hi what can I get for you guys today?” He grins, eyes drifting to Mikey who smiles politely. “What can I get you pretty lady?” He bats his eyelashes at the woman beside me causing an uncomfortable feeling to bubble in my stomach. Mikey chuckles softly, her brown eyes gazing up at the waiter. “I’ll take the Caesar salad with a side of fries please, can’t be too healthy.” She jokes.

I almost jump at the boisterous laugh the waiter lets out at Mikeys joke, my eyes connecting with Jenna’s, to confirm I wasn’t the only one who sees this horrendous interaction. “I can do that.” The waiter replies before hesitantly turning towards me, his broad smile now more of a forced grin. “I’ll have the carbonara.” I send him a fake smile before turning away, an awkward silence encompassing the table before Jenna voices her order.

Once everyone’s orders are written the waiter walks off but not before sending Mikey a flirty wink. My insides twist around themselves as my hands grip the table so hard as to prevent myself from strangling the man on sight.

“God that man was into you.” Melissa laughs from beside Mikey, her fingers poking the black haired woman’s side. “Tell me about it. He wouldn’t stop staring at you even when I was trying to tell him I can’t have chicken or bacon on my caeser salad.” Jenna groans.

I resist the urge to get up and go home. Petty yes but I hate watching the one person I adore being flirted with AND flirting back with some random.

“I think I’m going to go to the bathroom.” I feign a smile as I push out my chair and stand up desperate to get out of this conversation. “You want me to come with you?” Mikey’s quick to ask already half way out her chair. I shake my head almost too quickly. “No stay here, you’ll wanna be here for when the waiter comes back.” I reply maybe a little too harshly as Mikeys mouth opens and closes like a goldfish.

Both Mason and Jasmin send me a look but I ignore them instead walking away to the restroom as fast as I could go.

Resting my hands against the porcelain sink, I gaze at myself in the mirror. Although I look normal, I could feel the green eyed monster clawing at my stomach. Thinking about the waiters lingering gaze and his suggestive looks made me want to throw up in general, but thinking about them aimed at Mikey. That shatters my heart into a million pieces.

Blinking back tears, I run an irritated hand through my hair trying to think of an excuse for when I return to the table.

The restroom door opens and I inhale on instinct, brushing my tears away to make it appear as if I’m just washing up.

“Y/N?” Mikeys voice is shy, timid almost as she makes her way towards me. “Oh.” I breathe half grateful shes here and not at the table with that stupid waiter and half embarrassed she’s here while I cry over her.

“Are you ok?” The simple question is like a trigger sending tears cascading out my eyes. “Fuck, I am actually fine I don’t know why I’m crying.” I let out a chuckle but it falls flat as Mikey reaches for my hand.

“Don’t lie to me. We don’t do that to each other. Your my best friend, if somethings up I wanna help you.” She whispers tucking my hair behind my ear with her free hand.

Best friend

The word hurts to hear causing my eyes to squeeze closed as if that would protect the breaking of my heart. “I’m sorry for what I said before. About the waiter and stuff.” I sigh opening my eyes to look at Mikey who shrugs. “It’s ok, I don’t even want him anyway. I kinda have a crush on someone else.” She gazes at the floor. The words cause my breath to hitch in my chest.

So there is someone else.

“Oh. Yeah.” I manage to let out broken words. Tugging my hand away from Mikeys I let out a breath and wipe my cheeks. “I’m gonna head back.” I can’t look at her as I begin walking towards the door leaving Mikey behind me.

“Wait. Please.” Her voice is pleading almost begging me to not walk out the bathroom. Pausing, I turn on my heel and raise an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better it would sound like you were jealous.” She breathes slowly making her way in front of me once again.

My breath hitches for a different reason this time as she stops merely inches in front of my face. “And what if I am?” I reply waiting for the inevitable disgust and rejection to appear in Mikeys face.

“Then I would do this.” Mikeys lips connect with mine. Her hand reaching up for my face as I lean into the rhythm of our kiss.

The green eyed monster disappears leaving euphoria in its place.

I pull away only to better understand the situation, my hands still remaining slotted on Mikeys hips with no intention of letting go.

“So this means I’m the someone you have a crush on?” I frown as Mikeys shoulders shake with laughter. “Yes you idiot.” I don’t waste a second after she confirms my suspicions, my lips chasing hers once again.

Sighing into the kiss I can’t help but feel overjoyed, like I could conquer the world so long as my world remains in my arms.

#wlw post #lesbian #fluff #mikey madison #jenna ortega #mikey madison x female reader #jasmin savoy brown #mason gooding #melissa barrera

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neverniko101 · 1 month

Note

💌send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.💌

I’M PINGING ALL OF YOU

@swapsans2007 / @swapsansbengyswaptale / @skitswap / (all the same person, I think?)

@ravioli-randomness RAVEN MY BELOVED

@bunningchaos FRIEMBD

@leafwateraddict WHY IS THERE TEA IN YOUR BLOOD THAT DOESNT SOUND HEALTHY

@cas-spirit BE PROUD OF YOUR ART

@snowdrop-wolf 🫵

@infinitrix YOU ARE A SILLY LITTLE FELLOW /pos

@soul100 @levi-weaver @raptornoturno @yellowrabbitfurry TY FOR ENGAGING WITH MY SILLY HORROR SKELES (also cheesecake anon if you see this!)

@laizimoon DON’T KNOW YOU THAT WELL BUT YOU’VE BEEN LIKING MY POSTS SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME

@someverygaymoth MOTHS ARE THE SUPERIOR ANIMAL

@100percentevil sorry I think I found %0.0000001 good in you so you’ll have to change your name to 99.9999999percentevil

@marblez-art-studio IM SO EXCITED FOR COMIC

I’M SO SORRY I CAN’T PING MORE OF YOU I’M ACTIVELY WORKING AS I WRITE THIS POST JUST KNOW THAT I APPRECIATE YOU

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dark-angel-of-muses · 7 months

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Here we have Warriors the Succubus! Man has legs for days

Fact Time!

Warriors has a Hylian boyfriend named Varian! He's much shorter than Wars and a little nerdy. He makes terrible puns that Wars will howl at while everyone else politely tries not to cringe.

No I did not forget, Ravio is a succubus too! Warriors and Ravio connect and help each other, as will be a focus in the upcoming story in Ravioli week, Rehabilitation!

Black/dark hearts in a succubus' eyes are a sign of love poisoning, when the love they eat is rotten. Warriors has some remnant black hearts from his time during the war with Cia, who took him as a prisoner of war for a few weeks in this story.

His signature statement piece is Booty Shorts, of which he owns many pairs, despite having an ass flatter than a plateau. (He looks great, Legend just makes fun of him for it because there's only so much ammunition he has in their verbal sparring)

Could go on, but I'll leave you with just a drabble I wrote for now:

"Hey, Wars? I notice you haven't eaten much," Legend started.

"Did you forget I don't normally eat physical food, or...?"

"No, like. In general. Ravio needs kisses and cuddles all the time throughout the day, but I don't see you doing any of that."

"If you're offering snacks, I won't say no," Warriors grinned, fangs poking out from his lips.

"Ugh. Not in your dreams, Pretty Boy. Unless you're dying, find your food somewhere else." Legend stuck his tongue out at Wars. "No, I meant, are you hungry? Not doing all that? I don't really deny Ravio, so I don't actually know what's excess and what's necessary."

"Ah, I understand. Well, I think it's different between him and me? You and Ravio don't go further than kissing, right?"

Legend blushed. "Um. No."

"Then it's a different game. Going further helps sate a lot more, for me at least? Spending a night with someone can last me a week before I get hungry, a month before I'm in any kind of danger."

"So what, kisses and cuddles are less nutritious? They're not as good as sex? Is he malnourished?" Legend felt a spike of fear, was Ravio not eating right?

"No, no, you don't have to worry about that. If he was in danger, you could tell. Succubi starvation leaves pretty obvious physical marks. He seems perfectly happy and healthy from my view. It's more like eating five tiny meals a day instead of one big meal? You're spending a lot more time eating, but the food is the same. It's just a quantity thing. I didn't sleep with anybody for a while after the war, and I got by just fine, I just needed a lot more regular hugs and kisses from Artemis."

"Huh, so. You both are ok? You just like eating bigger meals less frequently?"

"Sums it up nicely, I think."

Huh. Well that put a worry in Legend's heart at ease.

#lu warriors #linked universe #seelies and selkies #muse writes #muse draws

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pretty-princess-4ever · 8 months

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Low calorie vegetarian options 💕🩰

Amy’s minestrone soup: entire can/190 cal

Gardein Italian wedding soup: entire can/200 cal

Annie’s all stars pasta: entire can/210 cal

Annie’s easy mac and cheese: 220 cal

Uncrustables chocolate hazelnut sandwich: 210 cal

Sandwich bros egg and cheese pita: 170 cal

Garden chik’n sliders: 1 slider/ 190 cal

Veggieful pepperoni pizza pocket: 250 cal

Amy’s tofu scramble wrap: 280 cal

Amy’s samosa wrap: 270 cal

Morningstar breakfast sandwich: 200 cal

Veggies made great spinach egg white frittata: 1 frittata/70 cal

Annie Chun’s spicy miso ramen: 1 bowl/240 cal

Annie Chun’s udon noodle soup: 1 bowl/260 cal

Tattooed chef cauliflower pizza bowl: 1 bowl/230 cal

Birds Eye rotini and vegetables: 1 package/290 cal

Balanced breaks cheese and crackers: 1 package 160-170 cal

Stauffer’s animal crackers: 16 crackers/120 cal

Flavored pistachios: 1 package/120-130 cal

Spring roll and veggie sushi: depends on brand but usually low cal

Veggieful flavored riced cauliflower: 1 cup teriyaki/ 53 cal, 1 cup southwest/93 cal

Lean cuisine spinach and mushroom pizza: 360 cal

Healthy choice creamy spinach and tomato linguine: 230 cal

Lean cuisine spinach and artichoke ravioli: 280 cal

Healthy choice “beef” and veggie stir fry: 290 cal

Amy’s Moroccan vegetable tagine: 270 cal

Amy’s mushroom risotto: 230 cal

Kidfresh marinara pasta with cauliflower: 250 cal

Quorn “chicken”: 1 filet/60 cal

Owyn cookies and cream shake: 170 cal

Good karma chocolate flax milk: 100 cal

Lenny and Larry’s cookie protein bar: 160 cal

Clif builder mini protein bars: 140 cal

Morningstar pancake and sausage on a stick: 140 cal

Jimmy dean’s egg and cheese biscuit roll up: 2 roll ups/ 260 cal

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finniestoncrane · 9 months

Note

Takeout [bullet-point/free form story/headcanon style]

Milkshake [fluff]

Pumpkin Ravioli [scarecrow]

🥖 Breadsticks [neck/wrist kisses]

🥗 Green Salad ["do you need a hand?"]

🥑 Guacamole ["please don't leave"]

Just gave me touch rooting (funny enough I think this is the most healthy meal)

general!scarecrow x gn!reader, word count: 300 content (warnings): tooth rotting fluff as requested orders open here! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: yeah for this being healthy and salad-y it's definitely squishy!! 💚

"please don't leave on my account"

it's hard not to try and go though, given that you've interrupted his experiments

you don't enter the lab usually, not while he's working, but you'd forgotten your backpack in there

you assumed that jonathan might be having a break, considering he'd been up all night

but he was there, standing at the counter surrounded by test tubes and vials

he encourages you to come over, to look at his progress

always enthusiastic about sharing with you, trusting you with his secrets

"one last step in the process, i need to add this vial, drop by drop, into the mixture. would you like to do the honours?"

it requires a steady hand, and yours is shaking as you take the pipette filled with neon orange liquid and hold it over the beaker

"steady... drop by drop remember"

your heart races, not only from nerves at handling a toxic and volatile substance, but with joy and excitement

that jonathan crane trusts you this much

that he's willing to share his work, his life with you

"do you need a hand?"

he doesn't wait for an answer, his cold, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist

gently holding you steady as you squeeze the end of the pipette

once you are finished, you lay it down on the surface of the counter

with his grip still around you, jonathan lifts your wrist to his lips, kissing it softly, letting your fingers find his cheek

a sweet reward

"i couldn't have done it without you"

his smile is warm, the meaning behind the words genuine

of course he doesn't mean physically, or even intellectually

he has that handled himself

but emotionally, having someone behind him, to encourage and support his work

it means the world to him

#finnie1500 #finnie writes #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #jonathan crane #scarecrow

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

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Meal Prep

Request from @lubunnii: Not going anon for this one. This is purely self indulgent,

Rossi’s child is underweight (not an ED or anything) and because of their anxiety they don’t really have an appetite.

That’s all I got, you can add more to that if you want.

David Rossi x teen!reader

Summary: Preparation of food is a sign of love in your family, so when your anxiety makes your stomach churn, your dad prepares you something special.

A/N: Thank you for this request! Hopefully it is what you were looking for. My ANS sucks so I understand the loss of appetite thing and sometimes a smoothie is all I can manage to get down so that's the first thing that came to mind.

CW: reader has a hard time eating due to anxiety, reader is underweight, doctors don't take reader seriously, lots of talk about eating and food and feeling sick

---

You didn’t hate food. How could you when you grew up in the Rossi household? A place where meals were made with passion, following recipes that had been passed down for generations which brought people together time and time again. The careful preparation of dishes and gathering to eat together was part of the way your dad expressed love. He’d go to the local grocery stores to pick out the finest ingredients and then spend hours in the kitchen cooking for the two of you, making sure everything was perfetto.

But good god your anxiety was a bitch. The underlying sensation of stress that caused your entire body to shake under the skin and your heart rate to rise also made you sick to your stomach. The nervous churning of your insides and the unsettled nature of your gut made you too nauseous to eat anything. Sometimes you could manage something easy on your stomach- a cup of plain yogurt with some fruit, half a granola bar, or a few bites of lightly buttered pasta if you were lucky- but some days you woke up feeling as thought you might vomit if you even smelled food.

And it really really sucked.

Your doctor had told you that you needed to eat more. Your weight had dropped below what was healthy, but all the M.D. did was write you a prescription for some prozac and send you on your way. You’d go back in a few months just to find out that your body still couldn’t keep on weight and be switched to a different SSRI that wouldn’t do any good in fixing the problem. Any request you made for anti-nausea medication would be denied due to the fact that you “just needed to relax” or “learn to meditate” or some other stupid passive gaslighting excuse a medical professional could come up with.

You laid on your bed, hoping that the nausea would subside soon so you could get something- anything- in your stomach. Despite your lack of appetite all you really wanted right now was to be able to enjoy the extravagant pasta dish your dad was preparing in the kitchen at the moment. The thought of missing out on it made you upset, but the thought of joining in made you want to vomit.

“Polpette! Dinner is ready!” your dad called from downstairs.

Years ago your nickname- meatball- would have made you smile. It was your favorite food when you were a little kid and it still was, but now hearing it just made you sad. Your stomach couldn’t handle the rich, hand-molded, mouth-watering food anymore.

You sighed and got out of bed, exhausted from your constant underlying unease and lack of fuel from being unable to consume more than a few hundred calories at a time. When you reached the kitchen, your dad welcomed you with his warmest smile.

“We have options tonight!” he said. Since Garcia got him into meal prepping, he’d often spend his days off making multiple dishes that could be reheated easily if he was in a rush. David Rossi wouldn’t be caught dead buying take out. “There is simple lasagne, spinach and cheese ravioli, chicken tetrazzini, and your great grandmother’s carbonara!”

The smell of the dishes hit your nose and your face warped as the idea of ingesting anything made you want to gag. You weighed your options.

“I- um.” You felt your face twist even more. “I don’t think-”

You felt panic rise in your chest, your hands shaking and your stomach churning. Tears began to flood your eyes and you shut them tight to keep them from falling.

Rossi was next to you in a second, wrapping you in a fierce hug. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, dad,” there was a hitch in your voice. “I want to eat but I feel so sick every time I think about it.”

Rossi placed a kiss on top of your head. “Go sit in the living room. I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

You nodded and your dad wiped away your tears before you left the kitchen to sit in the living space. You curled up on the sofa, hugging your knees to your chest and leaning your head back against the couch cushions, willing your stomach to settle.

A few minutes later your dad walked into the living room and sat down next to you; he was holding a cup of something with a straw poking out the top. “Here,” he said, holding the straw for you. “Have some of this.”

You slowly sipped from the straw, a not-too-sweet liquid filling your mouth. It was a smoothie- strawberry and blueberry if you had to guess. The ache in your stomach calmed just a little as you swallowed the liquid mixture. Your dad rubbed your back with his free hand and you took another small sip.

“There you go,” Rossi said quietly. You leaned into him and he put the smoothie down on the coffee table to wrap you in a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” you said. It was true- your dad knew exactly what you needed at that moment. It wasn’t a heavy dish that he had spent hours preparing, pouring his heart and generations of your family’s cooking techniques into in an effort to make it the most mouth-watering and flavorful meal on the planet; it was some fruit and ice cubes in a blender.

“Good,” Rossi said. He squeezed you gently around the shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out, alright? But until then I’ll do my best to make things easy for you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, thankful for your father’s understanding.

For the next hour, the two of you watched TV, him helping you take small sips of the smoothie between long stretches of time so you didn’t make yourself sick. It wasn’t until you almost finished the drink and he tucked you in bed that he went back to the kitchen to make a pitcher of the mixture in the hopes that you could drink some of it throughout the day tomorrow.

Perhaps it wasn’t the ingredients or the hours that made food special, but the thought and love behind it.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #rossi x daughter!reader #rossi x child!reader #david rossi x daughter!reader #david rossi x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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