#i don’t really feel like drawing at the moment so please bear with me

[sanfezu]

what glowing lenses glowing  what the fuck

#‘what wrong why you burning what burning roof burning what the fuck’ ← original #post #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #i don’t really feel like drawing at the moment so please bear with me #screenshots

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l seven

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Yours and Joel’s romantic relationship progresses; Ellie confronts you about Joel in stables and encourages you to make a choice; when Joel gets injured while out on patrol, it leads to a confession.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SMUT. unprotected p in v sex (as always, wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation (if you squint), Joel and his big cock can go multiple rounds because i said so, creampie (these two really are just going at it without a care in the world), Joel gets injured (gunshot wound) mentions of blood, MEDICAL INACCURACIES (per my research, the way gunshots wound are treated depends on a number of different factors, but we are going full hollywood here). Luke and Joel have an interaction (that is a warning in itself).

word count: 8.4k

September, 2024

“Oh fuck Joel, please don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st—”

You stop short and bury your face into the blanket underneath you in an effort to muffle the loud moans and cries of pleasure spilling from your lips.

Although the chances of a single soul being out of bed and outside near the barn at this godforsaken hour in the middle of the night are slim, it’s better to be safe than sorry. But keeping the noise to a minimum is a challenging feat when Joel Miller is positioned behind you, fucking you into oblivion.

You can’t hold back, not when his long, thick, calloused fingers are gripping your hips like a vice, digging deeply into the soft flesh as he brings them back, slamming you against him with each thrust of his own. Not when every inch of his throbbing cock is stretching your cunt, filling you up and satiating your unbridled need for it. Your need for Joel.

Over the last few weeks, he’d shown you what real pleasure could—and should—be. Sex isn’t an obligation a wife has to her husband, and a woman deserves to enjoy it as much as a man does. Joel made making you feel good his goal, his priority, and there’s no coming back from it. He is the only man you want to touch you, to satisfy you, now, and for the rest of your life.

You lift yourself off the blanket, your teeth sinking hard into your quivering bottom lip as you desperately drive your hips backwards and meet his thrusts halfway out of your own burning desire to feel more and more of him. Arching your back, you squeeze your eyes shut and relish in the sweet, heavenly sound the backs of your sweat slicked thighs make as they slap roughly against the front of Joel’s over and over and over again.

Joel's grasp on your hips tightens. “Yeah, that’s it baby. Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he pants from behind you. He picks up his pace, delivering smooth strokes that gradually become harder, sloppier as that sweet release draws closer for both of you. But somehow, he’s still careful. Even when he’s lost in the heat of the moment and his mind is in a cloudy haze, he keeps himself grounded, at least enough to make sure he isn’t being too rough. He can’t bear the thought of crossing the line between pleasure and pain, not with the woman he’s grown to care about more than anything. But you make being careful difficult. Pleading and begging for him to fuck you harder, faster, you bring out the primal in him and he can’t say no to you, much less when he’s buried balls deep in your cunt. “What a good fuckin’ girl. Y’take my cock so fuckin’ well, sweetheart—s’good for me, baby. So, so fuckin’ good.”

“Joel,” you moan his name, forgetting all about staying quiet. You drag one of your hands down the length of your body and dip it between your thighs, rubbing quick, firm circles around your clit as your desperation to come mounts. Luke didn’t like it when you would touch yourself, he never allowed you to explore your sexuality or your own body, nor did he allow you to chase your high when you were together—but Joel?

He encourages it. Adores it.

He fucking adores you. And he always he makes sure to show you just how much he adores you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, fuckin’ touch yourself—touch yourself while I fuck you.”

You swirl your fingers around the sensitive bud harder, the tension building in your core.

“Fuckin’ Christ, peach,” Joel groans behind you. “S’like this sweet little pussy was made for me. She was made just for me, y’know that?”

It’s hard to decide what does you in more when it comes to intimacy with Joel—is it when he’s soft and gentle, whispering beautiful, sweet nothings into the hollow of your neck while you’re underneath him, hands locked together and fingers interwined as he slowly slides in and out of your heat?

Or is it when he puts you on your hands and knees, obscene filth rolling off his tongue as he takes what belongs to him from behind?

He knows how to make love, but god, he also knows how to fuck and you can’t decide which side of him you prefer because they’re both perfect.

Unbelievably, devastatingly perfect.

“So fuckin’ tight, you feel s’good—” Joel grunts, driving himself deeper and deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that drives him just as wild as it does you. One of his hands abandons your hips and he glides it down the softness of your lower belly. What has to be one of your least favorite parts of yourself is one of his favorites and every night, Joel makes it his mission to prove to you just how flawless he thinks every inch of your body is. Lovingly, he caresses your tummy with his palm, and then trails his hand further down, slipping it between your thighs where his fingers join yours. Together, they circle your swollen clit and you hear the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears. 

“Joel, fuck, I’m so close—I’m gonna—” Your own gasp cuts off the end of your sentence. You try to warn him again, but your words are washed away by the wave of pleasure that crashes over you as one final stroke tips you both over the edge you’ve been teetering and you both come in tandem. Fisting handfuls of his blanket, you mewl out his name as your orgasm tears through your body, making it shudder.

Behind you, Joel releases a low, guttural groan, his chest heaving as his balls tighten. He spills into you and his eyes pinch shut when he feels you convulse around his cock, your cunt milking him for all he’s worth. “Fuck,” he chokes as he leans forward and drapes his body over yours, his length twitching and filling you until it leaks out of you, dripping onto the blanket. His breaths are ragged and labored, but eventually steady. Instead of pulling out of you, he gingerly pushes his hips into you once more. Feeling your walls clench around him, Joel drops his head and snickers, his warm breath tickling the damp skin on your back. He opens his eyes. “Feels like you’re ready for more, sweetheart,” he mutters, planting a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. Didn’t know I had me such a greedy girl, peach. Guess that innocent little angel face of yours had me fooled.”

You’re about to retort but when he bucks, all you can do is exhale sharply. Your pussy involuntarily flutters around him and though you can’t see it, you can picture the smug little grin on his face—he knows he’ll have your body begging for more if he keeps it up and so do you. He’s been insatiable tonight, wanting more and more and more, and you’re not all too sure if you have it in you for another round.

“We’ve still got some time left for one more,” Joel says. He peels himself off of you and palms the curve of your ass, kneading at the perfect mound with his fingers.

“Joel, I’m not sure I can handle it,” you mumble tiredly, shaking your head. “I think I’m all fucked out.” 

He laughs softly and pulls out of you.

You breathe out an audible sigh of relief welcoming the emptiness for once. Just as you’re about to get off of your hands and knees, Joel slides his index finger up your puffy, swollen slit and the arousal pools itself in your lower belly all over again. “God, no, please don’t,” you whine. “I can’t take anymore, Joel. I really fucking can’t.”

“Y’sure ‘bout that, darlin’?”

“Yes, I’m sure—” 

The lustful moan that echoes throughout the barn as he pushes his finger inside you says otherwise and you silently curse your own body for its cruel betrayal.

Joel hums. “Hm, doesn’t sound like you’re sure,” he teases, slipping a second finger into your pussy. He leans down and trails a line of hot, open mouthed kisses down the curve of your spine. He stops at the small of your back and murmurs against your skin, “I just fuckin’ know my sweet girl has one more left in her. I can fuckin’ feel it.” He curls his digits, eliciting another gasp from you. “Tell me, peach. Y’think you can be a real good girl and give me just one more?”

It takes less than a minute before you’re whimpering in defeat.

Of course you can give Joel one more—you can give him as many as he wants you to give him, as many as he can possibly coax out of you.

“Yes,” you breathe out in reply. “I’ll give you one more. But I just hope you know that I’m probably going to need you to carry me back across town after this.”

“Hm, I reckon I can handle that,” Joel muses with a small chuckle. He withdraws his fingers from you, his hands spreading your ass and revealing your needy, dribbling cunt. Glancing over your shoulder, you see his lips part slightly as he stares at you in complete awe.

Your face floods with heat, and though he can’t see your insecurity, but he feels it.

“She’s too fuckin’ pretty,” he remarks, admiring the way your folds glisten with your own wetness and his come. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze. “You’re s’goddamn fuckin’ beautiful, baby. Promise I ain’t ever gonna let you forget it.”

Your heart flutters wildly.

Before you have the chance to respond, he shifts his position, moving off the large bale of hay you two have been using as a makeshift bed for the last several nights. He lowers himself down onto his knees behind you. Joel looks at you and smirks when he sees the expression that crosses your features—it’s one of utter disbelief. He’s devoured you plenty of times before, but not in this position, and certainly not when you’re dripping, leaking with his come. His smirk widens. “Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?”

“Joel, I—I’m a mess right now,” you stammer out, nervously. “Are you sure you want to—?”

Joel flashes you an amused grin. “That a serious question, peach?” He chuckles when you nod in reply. “Well then, here’s my answer.” He buries his face into your cunt and swipes his tongue over your seam, flattening it out as slowly begins to drag it up and then down again. Joel groans into you, savoring the taste of you and your sweet muskiness combined with him and his slight saltiness. His tongue slips between your folds, eager, hungry for more.

“Joel,” his name tears from the back of your throat in a strangled cry. “Oh, fuck.”

He’d left you so sensitive. Your body involuntary jerks forward, squirming to get away from him—but Joel is having none of it. You can feel him grinning into your pussy as he wraps his hands around your thighs, curling his fingers as far as they can go around them.

“C’mere,” he says, his voice muffled between your legs. He tugs you back towards him and tightens his grip on you, holding you firmly in place, right where he needs you. He wraps his lips around your clit and swirls his tongue around it before engulfing the bud.

He might have teased you about being greedy, but truth be told, he’s the greedy one. Knowing his time with you is so limited only makes him even greedier.

Joel feasts on you, his desire to have you fall apart on his tongue again driving him to ravage you as if his very fucking life depends on making you come. The sounds of your whimpers, which are on the verge of turning into full blown sobs of pleasure, only spur him on. It’s more than just sending you home satisfied—he wants to make certain that, even when you’re apart from one another, you’ll still feel him. His tongue on your cunt, his cock buried inside of you, his lips and hands all over your body.

He can’t leave his physical mark on you to remind you of him when you’re not together, but he can, at the very least, leave you with a yearning for more of him.

You raise a tightly curled fist to your mouth, biting into it to keep from screaming out.

It’s too much for you to handle.

But somehow, it’s still not enough.

You want him to stop.

And yet you need him to keep going.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Joel, please! Please!”  

You beg him out of desperation, although you’re not really sure what you’re begging him for at this point—for him to make you come or for him to stop before you dissolve into nothing but a pathetic, whimpering mess. One of his hands abandons your thigh and without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you all the while his tongue laps at your clit. The muscles in your stomach contract and you explode, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as you come undone all over again. There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t shaking, trembling—it takes you a minute to even realize Joel’s on his feet, helping you turn around to lie on your back.

“S’alright. I got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl.” Joel climbs onto the bale of hay and nudges your thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. Planting his hands on either side of your shoulders, he dips his head and peppers gentle kisses all over your neck and chest, giving you the chance to ride out your last high before it’s time to get up and start getting dressed.

After a minute or two, you find your voice.

Or at least, a tiny, meek version of it.

“Joel?” 

He hums, his nose skimming along your jawline. “Yeah, baby?”

“I think you really are going to have to carry me across town.”

Joel chuckles, gingerly nipping at your chin with his teeth. “Best cut that out, peach. S’gonna start gettin’ to my head real fast.”

You giggle. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t want you getting too cocky, Miller.”

You bring a hand up to his face, cupping it in your palm. Gazes meet in the moonlight and you give him a soft, contented smile. You sweep your thumb across his bottom lip.

Joel’s breath catches in his throat.

Those eyes. That smile. Oh, that fucking smile. He wonders if you've figured out by now just how effortlessly you do him in.

Joel’s throat bobs. “Peach?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, then admits, “There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you.”

Your body stiffens underneath him, your eyes widening slightly.

“What is it, Joel?” 

Again, he hesitates. 

Joel’s been trying for some time now to say it—to tell you that he loves you.

But whenever he thought he’d finally mustered up enough courage to spit it out, he loses it the second those three words are about to fall from his lips. He can’t figure out for the life of him what he’s so afraid of. It’s obvious, to both of you, that he loves you, and he has no doubt in his mind that you love him too. But neither of you seem to have the guts to say it.

“Joel?” you say his name quietly, interrupting his train of thought. “Are you okay?”

Letting out a small, frustrated sigh, Joel shakes his head. “M’sorry, darlin’. S’just that—”

He stops short and shakes his head again, cursing himself for being such a coward.

You understand him, though. “It’s okay, Joel. I know how hard it is to say it. It’s really not as simple as one would think.” You laugh in spite of yourself. Grazing his beard lightly with your fingertips, you manage to give him another small smile. “Please don’t worry about it. It doesn’t have to be right now. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or the day after that. I’m not going to pressure either of us into saying something if we aren’t quite ready to say it. It should wait until you are good and ready—until the both of us are good and ready.”

“You’ve gotta know how much you mean to me—”

“I already do, Joel.” You drop your hand away from his face and place it on his bare chest. His heart thrums steadily against your fingers. “And I feel the same way about you. You do know that, don’t you, honey?”

His heart skips a beat at the pet name. You feel it. 

Joel leans down, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. “‘Course I do,” he murmurs. He then pulls back slightly, assuring you, “Couldn’t be any fuckin’ clearer to me.”

You press a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose and the little token of affection prompts his dark eyes to flutter closed. “Good.” You start to drag your fingernails and scrape them lightly down the length of his chest. They move lower, gliding over his soft belly and the coarse hair below his navel. With a tiny, innocent smirk, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it until he begins to harden in your palm. “Oh? What’s this?”

His eyes snap open and he groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Christ, baby,” he gruffs. “What happened to not havin’ it in you for more?”

“Mm, I lied.” You run the head of his cock between your folds, moaning as you tease your sopping entrance with it. “I’ve got one more in me. Do you think we have enough time?”

Joel bucks his hips into yours and slides into you in one swift, smooth motion. Moaning, your back arches off the blanket, your breasts pushing up against his chest when he bottoms out. “Oh, I reckon we can make it happen, my sweet girl.”

“If you smile any fucking harder, your face might actually fall off,” Ellie quips.

You look up from the clipboard you’re holding in your hands and glimpse over Duke’s back, only to see Ellie smirking to herself as she runs a brush across the brown and white spotted Appaloosa’s side, its stiff bristles clearing his stunning coat of dirt and debris.

Clearing your throat lightly, you try, but fail, to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. Not that it would make a difference, because it’s been plastered on your lips all morning long. You raise an eyebrow at her, questioning, “I’m sorry, is there something wrong with me being in a good mood today, missy?”

“Of course not.” Ellie briefly pauses and her gaze meets yours. She shrugs. “It’s actually really nice to see you so happy.” Her attention shifts back to the task at hand. As she continues to brush the horse, her smirk widens. “So I’m guessing last night with Joel went pretty well then, didn’t it?”

You don’t even flinch. Thanks to the warning Joel had given you a few weeks back, she hadn’t caught you too off guard. More than anything, what surprises you most was the fact that it’s taken the teenager this long to confront you about it.

“Ellie—”

She snorts. “Don’t bother trying to hide it. Look, I know you two have been meeting up in the middle of the fucking night for the last couple of months,” she states in a blunt, matter of fact tone. “And I also know that the two of you know that I know. So let’s not beat around the fucking bush here, sweet cheeks. Are you two like in a relationship or something? Or are you just—what do the kids call it these days? Hooking up? What exactly is the deal with you and Joel?”

Gasping, you’re quick to shush her. “Ellie!”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, relax princess. It’s close to lunchtime, there’s no one in here but the two of us. So fucking spill it. What’s up with you and my old man?”

You sigh. Setting your clipboard down on top of the mounting block beside you, you step around Duke and approach Ellie. Even though you know everyone else in the stables had taken off to the mess hall for lunch hour, you keep your voice low and hushed. “Yes, okay. We’ve been meeting up at night and seeing each other.” You’d tried your best to prepare yourself for this, made a list of things you could say to her to make the fact that you were having a full blown secret affair with the man who’s essentially her father seem a bit less shameful. But it was useless. No matter which way you could try to spin it for her, the bottom line was that you are a married woman who is cheating on her husband.

And you’re cheating with Joel.

“Listen, what we’re doing, it’s not right—”

Ellie lifts her hand and interrupts you. 

“You guys make each other happy, don’t you?”

“I can’t speak for Joel,” you reply tentatively, shifting your weight from one muck caked boot to the other. “But he definitely makes me happy. He makes me the happiest I have been in a long, long time.”

She chortles. “Oh, come the fuck on, you know you make his crabby ass happy too,” she tells you. She grins and continues to say, “Seriously dude, if only you could see him in the mornings after he’s been with you. Picture it, he’s getting ready to head out for patrol and he’s going about the kitchen smiling like a fucking idiot as he makes his coffee.”'

“Really?”

“Really,” Ellie confirms. “It’s fucking sickening.”

You can't help but chuckle at her remark.

There’s a brief bout of silence, but Ellie’s quick to cut through it. “Can I ask you something?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Figured,” you sigh. “Alright kid, go ahead. Ask away.”

“Do you love Joel?”

Anxiously, you nibble on your bottom lip. “Yes,” you admit softly after a minute. “I do.”

Ellie glances down at the brush in her hands. She fiddles with it, running her fingers over the coarse, stiff bristles. “Wow,” she murmurs, quietly. Any trace of humor had completely vanished. “It must really fucking suck having to hide being with the person that you love, huh?”

“Yeah, it does. It really, really fucking does.”

Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates.

Frowning, you take a step closer to her. “What is it, Ellie?”

“You could leave him, you know. Luke.”

“What?” Your mouth dries. “What are you talking about?”

“You could leave him,” Ellie repeats. Pausing, she chews the inside of her cheek. She seems nervous as she shuffles from foot to foot, something you find strange considering how brazen the girl can be. “You could move in with us into our house, you know?” For as tough as she could be, it tugs at your heart strings whenever her innocence peeks through, much like it is now. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

You smile wistfully at the thought.

A life where you can openly be in a relationship with Joel—take your place by his side and live a life of peace with him and Ellie?

Of course you do. 

But it’s a dream that’s too far out of reach.  

“I would love that,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. You let your finger graze the softness of her cheek before dropping your hand back down to your side. “You honestly have no idea how happy that would make me, Ellie. But it’s not all that simple—it’s much too complicated for me to leave Luke.”

“How the fuck is it complicated? You aren’t happy with a man you aren’t even really married to. The world fucking ended, it’s not a real marriage. Just take off the ring, pack up your shit, and it’s done. I don’t see what’s so fucking complicated about it.”

You sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because you’re not even giving me the chance to fucking understand,” Ellie shoots back at you, anger and frustration glazing over her brown eyes as she tries to make sense of it all. “You could actually be happy with Joel—and with me. We could be a family, a real fucking family.”

Caught off guard, you stare at her in complete shock. It’s not like you aren’t aware of how close she’s grown to you since you’d met, but you never expected her to see you as family. 

“Ellie, please. You have to believe me. Nothing would make me happier,” you choke out in reply. You furiously blink back the hot, stubborn tears that threaten to fall and hold it together for her sake rather than for yours. “Being together with Joel—being with the two of you and living life together as a family would be incredible.”

“Then why won’t you just fucking leave him?” she demands, growing more irate. “Why miss out on the chance to be fucking happy for once?”

Her questions are met with silence. 

How do you even begin to explain it to her?

How do you tell a teenager that you’re trapped with no way out? How afraid you were of your husband?

You don’t. You can’t.

“Well?” Ellie impatiently prompts you after a minute. “Come on man, just tell me the fucking truth already. Why can’t you leave Luke?” Her gaze finds yours and her eyes widen when the realization suddenly starts to sink in for her. “Oh shit.”

You quickly shake your head. “Ellie, wait—”

“It’s because he won’t let you leave, isn’t it?”

Fuck.

For a second, you feel like you’re going to be sick all over her sneakers. 

Before you can even think of how to respond to the accusation, the sound of Tommy Miller’s voice echoes through the stables. “Ellie!” he shouts. “Ellie! You in here?”

Relieved, you call out to him. “Hey, Tommy! Yeah, she’s here—she’s with me in Duke’s stall!”

Scowling, Ellie points a menacing finger at you. “This conversation isn’t over,” she mutters. “Far fucking from it, princess.”

Tommy rushes into the stall, his chest heaving. He’s out of breath and sweating profusely, his curls plastered to his forehead. His light blue denim shirt is stained with crimson and so are his hands—he’s covered in blood.

“Tommy!” you gasp out his name and run up to him, grabbing onto his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m alright! Blood ain’t mine,” he says, giving you a reassuring nod as he wraps his hands around your forearms, smearing your skin red. He then looks over your shoulder at Ellie. “It’s Joel. He’s been shot.”

Your nails dig into his arms, a chill running down your spinal cord.

“What?” Ellie cries, running up to the two of you in a panic. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck happened? How did he—is he okay? Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,” Tommy tells her, eliciting a breath of relief from her, as well as from you. “He got hit in the shoulder. I had to come find you and tell you right away,” he explains to her. “Needed you to hear it from me and not from anybody else.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s down at the clinic. I can take you there now—”

Ellie drops the brush in her hand. “What are we waiting for? Let’s fucking go!”

Tommy nods and lets go of you. He whirls around on the heel of his boot and leads her out of Duke’s stall.

You start to follow behind them, but freeze.

What business do you have seeing Joel?

As far as Tommy’s concerned, you’re nothing to his brother. Just a neighbor, maybe an acquaintance. The veterinarian his kid works for, if anything, but certainly nothing more.

“Wait.” Ellie halts in her tracks and turns back to you, beckoning with her hand. When you don’t move a muscle, she rolls her eyes and hurries over to you, taking your hand in hers. “Come on!”

Tommy shoots her a confused look.

“Ellie, what are you—?”

Ellie’s head whips around and she glares at you, as if telling you to be quiet. “I need you to come with me,” she says. “I’m going to need you for uh—you know, for emotional support and shit.”

It suddenly clicks. You know what she’s doing.

She’s giving you the excuse to see Joel. 

Squeezing Ellie’s hand in a silent thank you, both of you follow Tommy out of the stables and across the commune towards the clinic.

“Tommy, what happened out there?” you ask him.

“Raiders,” Tommy answers over his shoulder. His long strides are difficult to keep up with, and you and Ellie are forced to break out into a jog just to keep up with him. “Motherfuckers came outta nowhere and ambushed us. They got Joel in the shoulder, hit Carl in the stomach. Peter got shot in the chest—he’s in real bad shape. We don’t think he’s gonna fuckin’ make it.”

Your stomach churns. Peter. Marther’s husband.

“Anyone else wounded?”

He shakes his head. “No, but we did lose two of our horses. Daisy and Cash.”

“How could this fucking happen?” Ellie demands furiously.

“We think it was that same group we were trackin’ back a few weeks ago.” Tommy’s voice is strained. He tightly shakes his head, his hands curled into angry fists at his sides. “They must have realized we stopped with double patrol. Those fuckers caught us with our guard down. I fuckin’ knew we shouldn’t have eased up with patrol duties, I should’ve had every able bodied patrolman man out there day and night—”

You frown at the back of his head. “Tommy, please. You can’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known they were still out there after all this time.”

“Tell that to Martha,” he replies bitterly. “Tell that to Carl’s wife and to his daughters.”

Knowing there isn’t anything you could say to console Tommy or ease the guilt he’s feeling, you clamp your mouth shut.

Now isn’t the time to even try.

The three of you arrive at Jackson’s clinic.

Before the outbreak, the building had served as an urgent care facility for the town.

Abandoned and picked clean over the years, it had taken a lot of time and effort for the community to restore what was left of it into a safe, reliable place that could be used for healthcare services. It still wasn’t much even after the fact, but the clinic boasted three examination rooms for patients, and its shelves, once bare, were now decently stocked with precious medical supplies such as bandages, vials of penicillin, and clean syringes.

Tommy leads you and Ellie inside and the first thing the both of you notice are the trails of splattered blood on the speckled linoleum floors. You pray none of it is Joel’s.

In the first exam room, you can hear Carl, a man who used to work in the stables with you before he’d be assigned to be a patrolman. He’s sobbing, screaming out in agony as he begs for someone to help him. In the second exam room that’s just across the hall from the first, you can hear Luke. He’s speaking to someone, presumably one of the nurses, instructing them to hand him more gauze, along with a scalpel.

“Joel’s in here.” Tommy walks to the last door at the end of the brightly lit hallway and opens it, stepping aside to allow you and Ellie into the room. “Hey, big brother. Got someone here who wants to see you.”

Your stomach churns, breath hitching in your throat when you see him perched on the examination table without his shirt on, firmly holding a bloodied cloth to his left shoulder to conceal his wound.

“Shit,” Ellie breathes out, dropping your hand. She hurries over to his side. “Joel, are you okay?”

Joel glares at his brother. “Thought I told you not to fuckin’ bring her here, Tommy.”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause she’s your—” Tommy pauses, searching for the right word. “She’s your Ellie. She should be here with you, Joel.”

“She doesn’t need to fuckin’ see me like this—” He stops abruptly when he finally sees you standing there at the door looking like you’d just seen a ghost.

Noticing that he’s about to question what you’re doing there, Ellie cuts him off and pins him with a stern look as if to tell him to shut the fuck up. “I asked her to come down here with me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him and hoping he’ll get the hint. “Hope that’s okay?”

His eyes flit back over to you and he gives a single, subtle nod of approval. “You can come in,” he tells you. His gaze meets your own, but he’s careful not to let it linger for too long. “S’alright. Come on in.”

You stand there frozen. It’s not until Tommy puts his hand on the small of your back and nudges you forward that you you finally move. “Hey,” you say to Joel, your voice small and feeble. Cautiously, you approach him, your mouth and throat dry. Resisting the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around him, you fall into step beside Ellie. She reaches for your hand again, holding it in hers as she gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.

“M’okay.” Joel looks from you to Ellie, nodding his head in reassurance. “M’gonna be okay. Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me.”

“Anyone been in here to see you yet?” Tommy asks.

“It look like anyone’s been in to see me yet?” Joel deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “When is someone gonna take a look at him? He’s been fucking shot!”

“We’ve only got one doctor and two nurses,” Tommy reminds her gently, placing his hands on his hips. “They do what they can, kiddo.”

Letting go of Ellie’s hand, you stand in front of Joel and gesture to his shoulder. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

Reluctant, Joel’s lips purse together. “Y’sure you wanna do that?”

You nod. 

“Go ahead then,” he murmurs.

Carefully, you peel back the blood soaked cloth from his shoulder to inspect his wound.

“It’s right there—the bullet. I can see it. It looks like it’s still intact as well. The good news about that is that it’s going to make extraction a lot easier since the bullet didn’t break off into fragments.” You manage to keep a calm, cool and collected demeanor. On the inside, you’re anything but. Words could not even begin to explain how fucking terrifying it is to see Joel injured, covered in his own blood. Still, with Tommy in the room standing just feet behind you, there’s no choice but to stay composed to avoid raising any kind of suspicion.

“And the bad news?” Ellie prompts worriedly.

“Well, he could get a serious infection if that bullet doesn’t come out of his shoulder. It needs to be removed and his wound needs to be flushed out and cleaned. It also looks like something we can stitch up. He will be fine but he needs to be tended to sooner rather than later.” You glance back at Tommy. “He can’t just sit here like this for much longer.”

“Luke’s still workin’ on Peter. Carl’s next in line since he got hit in the stomach. Luke said he needed to tend to the injuries in order based on how bad the injury is. Said it was called triage or somethin’ like that—”

“Well, what about Donna? Or Rose?” You refer to the two nurses who work in the clinic alongside your husband. Every nerve in your entire body is on edge. All you want is someone, anyone—even if that fucking means Luke—to tend to Joel. It’s quite selfish on your part considering the severe nature of the other two men’s injuries, but you can’t help yourself. You need Joel to be okay or you won’t be okay. “We can have one of them do it. I’m sure they’re capable of an extraction.”

Tommy runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I know Donna is helpin’ Luke with Peter. Rose is in the room next door tryin’ to stop Carl’s bleedin’—”

Your emotions boil over and finally, you snap. Turning to the younger man, you nearly shout at him in frustration. “He can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet lodged in his shoulder, Tommy!”

Taken aback by the outburst, Tommy raises his eyebrows but he says nothing.

“Wait a minute.” Ellie grabs your arm, garnering your attention. “Didn’t you take a bullet out of one of the horses once?”

“Yeah. She did,” Tommy realizes. “My horse, Ranger. He got in the shoulder durin’ an attack a couple years ago. She took the bullet right out and had him all patched up within an hour.”

Your eyes bounce between them in absolute disbelief. “Ranger’s a horse.”

“How different could it be?” Tommy wonders out loud, raking his hand through his black curls once more.

Furiously, you shake your head. “I’ve never treated a human wound before, at least not one like this. Cuts and scrapes, sure. But this is a gunshot wound, guys. I can’t—”

Ellie’s fingers dig anxiously into your arm. “Please do it,” she whispers, her eyes looking up into yours pleadingly. “You’ve got to help him. Please.”

Slowly, you turn to Joel, who hasn’t uttered a single word. “Would be kinda nice to get this fuckin’ thing outta my shoulder,” he remarks after a minute. He brings his gaze to meet yours and holds, forgetting all about subtlety. “I trust you.”

“Joel, I can’t. I’m not capable—”

“Oh fuck that, you are capable,” Ellie insists, shaking her head at you.

Helplessly, you turn to Tommy for backup.

“I’m gonna have to agree with with the kid, little lady. You’re capable. I just know it.”

“Please,” Ellie begs you. “It could be fucking hours before Luke gets to him. You said it yourself just a minute ago, Joel can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet in his shoulder. He could get an infection. Please, you have to do it. Do it for me.” Do it for him, she wants to say. But she knows she can’t.

Hearing the desperation in her voice, you don’t have much choice but to reluctantly agree to it. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it,” you relent, exhaling a sigh of defeat. “But if I’m going to do this, I would rather do it without an audience watching me.”

“Say no more.” Tommy gently takes Ellie’s arm and starts tugging her towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s wait out in the hallway, kiddo.”

“But—” She begins to protest. 

“Ellie.” Joel grits out her name. “Listen to Tommy.”

Annoyed, she huffs, “Jesus, okay. Fine.”

As soon as they disappear and close the door behind them, you turn back to Joel, your heart slamming against your ribcage.  

“I trust you,” he repeats, firmly. “Alright?”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Alright.”

Walking over to the opposite side of the room, you begin digging around through various cabinets and in drawers, searching for the supplies that you would need—a bottle of saline solution, a pair of surgical forceps, and a clean needle for the stitches. You toss them onto a small silver tray along with plenty of gauze and a packet of nylon sutures that had expired well over fifteen years ago. The only thing you can’t find are gloves, and while you were sure there had to be a box somewhere in the clinic, you don’t have the spare time to search for them. You wash your hands as thoroughly as possible with warm water and a bit of natural, handmade antibacterial soap one of the women in the commune makes and sells in her apothecary shop on Main Street along with her healing ointments and salves.

Your mind spins as you dry off your hands and pick up the tray, slowly making your way over to Joel. You set it down on the exam table and stand in front of him, inhaling a long, deep breath through your nose. Exhaling it slowly and steadily through your mouth, you ask, “Are you ready?”

Joel places his hand on your hip, his fingers brushing the skin that peeks between the waistband of your jeans and the lace hem of your yellow camisole. “Think I should be the one askin’ you that question, darlin’.”

You could have laughed. “Of course I’m not.”

“You can do this, baby. I know you can.”

“How can you be so sure about that, Joel?”

“‘Cause. I know my girl,” Joel murmurs, softly. He makes certain to keep his voice low, just in case Tommy and Ellie happen to be standing too close to the door. “And I know she’s capable of a hell of a lot more than she thinks she is. I believe in you, peach,” he asserts, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. “I trust you with my fuckin’ life.”

Your eyes glaze over with tears and you exhale a shaky breath. It’s not just his words, it’s the sincerity behind them—he means it when he says he trusts you with his life. If it ever came down to it, he would put it right in your hands.

“It’s going to hurt like hell,” you warn him. “I don’t have any anesthetic to numb the area.”

His hand falls away from you and he curls it into a loose fist on his thigh. “Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse, sweetheart.”

Reaching for the cloth on his shoulder, your hands threaten to tremble but you will them to stay as steady as possible as you remove it, setting side before picking up the bottle of saline and a piece of gauze. The bleeding had ceased. You clean the area well and give yourself a clear view of the thumb sized projectile. “It’s pretty superficial,” you observe, wiping at the wound and causing him to wince. “It doesn’t look like it caused any kind of severe damage, either.” Throwing the used gauze aside, you take the pair of forceps and show them to him. “Ready?”

“Ain’t got much of a choice, do I now?”

“Nope.” You flash him a tiny, wry smile. “Okay, I’m going to count to three and begin the extraction. I need you to stay as still as possible, alright?”

Joel nods grimly, his jaw clenched and lips pressed in a tight line.

“One, two, three—take a big, deep breath in and let it out slowly through your nose.”

He does as you instruct him, his fist tightening on his leg as he braces himself.

Firmly holding the forceps, you carefully insert the jaws of the instrument into his wound. Although you want to get the painful procedure over with as quickly as possible, you have to be careful not to cause any kind of further damage to his shoulder. “Fuck,” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, his eyes pinching closed. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Didn’t think it’d hurt this fuckin’ bad.”

You manage to get a good grip on the bullet with the forceps. “Almost done,” you assure him. “I’m going to pull it out now. Take another deep breath in for me and hold it.”

He nods and inhales, his chest expanding.

“On three, let it out—one, two, three.”

Joel exhales sharply as you swiftly pull the bullet from his shoulder. “Fuck!” he curses again, shaking his head. Even though his shoulder feels like it’s on fire, he does feel a huge sense of relief as soon as the round comes out.

“Got it,” you say, lifting the forceps. You show Joel the projectile clamped in the instrument’s jaws. It makes you sick to your stomach to think that there was even a slight possibility that the bullet you’re holding in your hand could have hit him somewhere else—it could have been a fatal shot. Shoving the nauseating thought out of your mind, you set it down on the tray and pick up the bottle of saline and a couple pieces of clean gauze. After flushing the wound and cleaning it a second time, you take a closer look at it just to be sure there’s no serious damage to the tissues in his shoulder. “Everything looks alright from what I can see. I cleaned it as best I could, but there’s always a risk for infection so you’ll have to take a round of antibiotics. You’ll also have to wear a sling for about four to six weeks. Doctor’s orders,” you add with a tiny, jeering smile when you clock the disdain on his face.

“Shit. That mean’s Tommy’s gonna pull me off of patrol,” he realizes, miserably. “What the hell am I gonna do for four to six weeks?”

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Recover from being shot?”

“Yeah I s’ppose I am,” he mutters with an eye roll.

Calm, tranquil silence falls over you as you prepare the suture, looping it through the needle. The moment you start stitching him up, an emotional lump rises in the back of your throat and you’re not sure why. Joel is fine. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay, and yet, all you can do is think about how frightened you’d been when Tommy ran into the stables covered in blood and said that Joel had been shot. How terrifying it was to think he was dead. 

He says your name softly.

When you don’t acknowledge him, he reverts to his nickname for you. “Peach.”

You hum, trying to stay focused on finishing the task of closing up his wound. “Hm?”

“Look at me, baby.”

“Joel, I’m kind of in the middle of someth—”

“I love you.”

Stopping mid stitch, you look at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Darlin’, I can’t count the number of times I almost fuckin’ said, but couldn’t. How many times those words have been right there on the tip of my tongue and just when I’m ‘bout to say them, I lose the nerve. After what happened today, m’gonna stop bein’ such a fuckin’ fool. M’gonna tell you every chance I get,” Joel vows, his gaze piercing into yours. “You had my heart from day fuckin’ one and you’re gonna have it for the rest of my life, sweet girl. I love you.”

His declaration knocks all of the wind out of your lungs and leaves you breathless. Speechless.

“AIn’t gotta say it back to me until you’re ready,” Joel reassures you. “Y’know how I feel ‘bout you—but I think it was time you finally heard it.”

You choke down your emotions—now isn’t the time to break down, not when you have a needling poking through his flesh. It’s not exactly how you pictured you professing your love for each other, but it feels right. “I love you too, Joel,” you whisper back to him. “I’ve been wanting to say it to you too, but I’ve just been afraid.” You pause and realize, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Joel tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Do me a real big favor darlin’ and finish stitchin’ me up quick ‘cause I’m fuckin’ dyin’ for a kiss.”

Letting out a tearful little laugh, you carefully finish pitching him up. As soon as you finish with the last stitch, Joel wraps his uninjured arm around your waist. “C’mere baby,” he murmurs. He tugs you forward so you’re standing between his legs and tilts his head up towards yours. 

You smile at him before leaning in, molding your mouth to his in a sweet kiss. 

As you do, Luke’s voice echoes loudly out in the hallway. “What the hell do you mean she’s—”

Jerking away from Joel, you jump back just as the door swings open.

Luke bursts into the examination room with Tommy and Ellie behind him. His dark green eyes flit from you to Joel and then back to you again.

“Joel!” Ellie shoves past him. “You okay?”

“M’alright,” he replies stiffly, his eyes carefully trained on your husband.

“Tommy told me you were treating Joel’s wound.” Luke approaches you, and while he is keeping a collected composure for the sake of not causing a scene in front of the other people in the room, you know him better than that. He’s furious, but he’s masking it well.

Nervously, you nod. “Yes. I extracted the bullet from his shoulder, flushed and cleaned the wound, and stitched him up.” You notice the blood on his light blue medical scrubs and glance around him at Tommy. “How is Peter?”

His expression is grim. “Didn’t make it.”

“God,” you mutter, your heart clenching in your chest as you think of Martha. She’s just lost her husband.

Luke walks over to Joel, whose hands are curled into fists in his lap. He inspects his shoulder, observing the work you’d done. He then looks over his shoulder at you and frowns. “You shouldn’t have done this,” your husband chastises you, shaking his head tightly. “You aren’t a trained medical professional. Do you even realize—”

“Your wife did a good fuckin’ job,” Joel cuts him off. “She knew what she was doin’.”

Luke’s head whips back around and the two men’s eyes meet in a tense exchange.

“Give her some more fuckin’ credit than that. She’s amazin’,” the older man states, his nostrils flaring. 

“Yeah,” Ellie chimes in agreement, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes at Luke. “She’s fucking amazing.”

Luke turns to her and arches an eyebrow. Before he can say anything, the sound of Donna’s voice comes from the room next door.

“Luke! I need a little help in here!”

Lips pursed together, Luke takes a step back from Joel and turns on his heel to leave. As he passes you, he stops briefly, long enough to whisper to you quietly, “We’ll talk about this at home.”

A chill runs down your spine.

You know exactly what he means by that. 

Luke tosses you a subtle glare and stalks out of the room.

“I should go and find Maria,” Tommy states with a sad sigh. “We’re gonna have to break the news to Martha about Peter.” He gives you a nod. “Thank you, little lady. For takin’ such good care of my big brother.” He disappears, closing the door behind him and leaving the three of you alone.

Ellie comes up to you, curling her arms around your waist. “Thank you. We fucking owe you one.”

You say nothing as you hug her back, holding onto her tightly.

You try not to think about what’s in store for you later that evening at home.

#joel miller #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #fic: ash #fic: a safe haven

[extasiswings]

Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.

“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.

Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.

It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.

But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—

Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.

And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.

Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.

But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.

Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.

Mostly though, he’s just tired.

“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”

Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.

“But—”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.

A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”

Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.

Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.

Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.

“Okay.”

#chapel writes #911 spoilers #buddie

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them. 

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure. 

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you. 

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face. 

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you. 

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back. 

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes. 

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside. 

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip. 

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it. 

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground. 

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons. 

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen. 

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground. 

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front. 

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins. 

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse. 

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse. 

It’s there. 

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head. 

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this. 

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand. 

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound. 

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now. 

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention. 

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering. 

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt. 

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand. 

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders. 

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin. 

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving. 

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you. 

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself. 

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths. 

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in. 

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings. 

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin. 

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you. 

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.” 

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?” 

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him. 

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake. 

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly. 

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing. 

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze. 

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head. 

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him. 

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no. 

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening. 

He was having a nightmare. 

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him. 

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms. 

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying. 

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face. 

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.” 

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out. 

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance. 

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases. 

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check. 

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him. 

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. 

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart. 

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him. 

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.” 

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him. 

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.” 

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear. 

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually. 

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate. 

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table. 

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach. 

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him. 

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both. 

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying. 

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her. 

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen. 

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms. 

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.” 

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. 

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer. 

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you. 

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers. 

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed. 

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing. 

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers. 

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds. 

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much. 

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.” 

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.  

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling. 

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear. 

“Ready for me darlin’?” 

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you. 

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips. 

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier. 

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets. 

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass. 

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed. 

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close. 

 “I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face. 

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.  It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou au

[artsavi]

god. uh. myhouse.wad, huh? I have, frankly, way too many thoughts about this entire mod. Please bear with me as I try to ramble my way through them, I ended up going off under the read more.

I’m going to be honest, this game felt like an extended, emotional fetch quest for me until this point. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that all the items had emotional and memorial impact, but...this one got to me. This moment hit me like a fucking truck.

For those of you who don’t play Dungeon and Dragons, sessions get long. On average they can run anywhere between 4-6 hours, but I myself have played longer, with the longest taking the cake at almost a half day, or roughly 11 hours. A lot can happen in a session, and most of it is just...joking around. The phrase “roll for intercourse” is a reference to an age-old running gag of players trying to seduce an NPC for whatever reason. It’s funny. It happens so often it’s a meme.

But finding it here...it really hit me. This isn’t just a reference to a well-known meme. Tom and Steve sat down and played D&D together, spending multiple hours in a day to play sessions, likely with other players but always with each other. And this phrase? It stuck out, it’s a moment that stuck with Steve for one reason or another, and my only guess is to say it’s because it‘d become an inside joke. And...you can’t help but wonder what it was. If Steve had been DMing, or if he’d been the one trying to seduce the NPC much to Tom’s chagrin, or...what.

And that at the core is the devastating part of myhouse.wad. The more I sit and think about it, the more I think about it, the more I realize this map is chock full of inside jokes, and we as players will never understand them. Because it’s not meant for us. These are things we’ll never have context for because one of the people involved is gone now. And the more I think about it, the more the realization hit that this entire map is not a game and really, truly is a memorial.

Do you remember when we played with Legos together? Do you remember when we played video games? Drinking milkshakes in the basement, sharing a pop? Our inside jokes? Roll for intercourse. Pumpkin Rick. Shrek chasing after you. Do you remember when we got married? I do. The house does. The house loves you. I love you. I miss you.

This map reads like a conversation, someone reaching out to someone else. You can’t help but wonder who is reaching out to who, though.

You know, I was talking to some friends on Discord about this map, and one of them brought up something interesting that I agree with. myhouse.wad draws clear inspiration from House of Leaves, but there’s a distinct difference between them. They both have heavy themes of grief and closure, but where House of Leaves is mysterious because of the layers and layers of unreliable narrators, myhouse.wad is mysterious because of you’re only ever hearing one side of the conversation. House of Leaves makes me feel like I’m intruding on something that no human should ever know. myhouse.wad makes me feel like I’m hearing part of a conversation through a wall.

Either way, there is one thing that both works share: This is not for you. It never was.

You know, I kind of wonder what their D&D campaign was about, if this moment was enough to stick out as an inside joke. I wonder what their sessions were like. I hope they had fun.

#myhouse #myhouse.wad #myhouse.pk3 #house of leaves #hol #doom #doom ii #doom 2 #fanart #artsavi #digital art

[daydreamingyuta]

Teddy Bear | Haechan

teddy bear  [ted·​dy bear] (noun) An object of great comfort and solace. summary: fluff, drabble, bf!haechan comforts you because you've been feeling inadequate and unworthy of his love. wc: 674

You really didn’t know why you struggled with this so much. You would think that after so long of your boyfriend showering you with love and praise, you would have felt better about yourself. It’s not that you think Haechan is lying, you can tell his words are always sincere, but a part of you just cannot see what he sees in you, no matter how hard you try.

You two are on the couch watching a show, but you’re not really paying attention. Your head is laying on his lap as he absentmindedly runs his fingers through your hair, distracting you completely. At some point, Haechan also stopped paying attention to what’s on the screen because he’s looking down, admiring you while also wondering what was going on inside your head. That’s the thing Haechan found himself constantly wondering. 

He wonders what you’re thinking when you spend a little too long inspecting yourself in front of the mirror.

He wonders what you’re thinking when your eyes wander to other girls while the both of you are out.

He wonders what you’re thinking when you refuse to make eye contact with him after he compliments you.

“...Baby,” Haechan says softly. You look up at him with a smile on your face. “Hm?” You hum.

“You look so pretty today.” He tells you. Immediately, you pick your head up from his lap and stare straight ahead at the screen. You thank him, but you get the same sinking feeling of inadequacy you always get. 

Of course, Haechan sees this in your face, even though you’ve tried to turn away from him. He takes a second, trying to think of the best words to say next. “Baby... you never look at me when I compliment you, almost like you don’t believe me.” He says, in the softest voice you’ve ever heard from him because the thought of that kills him inside.

You really don't know what to say to that, you never want to lie to Haechan. “Oh I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you feel Haechan's hands on you, gently pulling you down so that you're on your back and he’s hovering above you.  “I never know what’s going on in your head.” He says, pushing your hair behind your ear while you still refuse to make eye contact.

“Please look at me baby” He kisses you on both cheeks and gives you a soft smile. “my prettyy babyy.” he draws out the words, smiling down at you. He’s so close to you that it’s impossible to look anywhere else but at him. You can’t help but smile up at him, your heart filled with nothing but love towards your sweet boyfriend. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me what you're feeling? So that we can work through this together, so that I can make you see that you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world to me.”

You nod your head knowing that he means every single word he's saying with his whole heart. "It's just hard for me to believe that sometimes Hyuck and I hate it. You're the most perfect guy I could have asked for and I don't feel worthy of all the love you give me." The tears falling before you could stop them following your unexpected words of vulnerability.

Haechan leans down and gently kisses your tears away, one by one. "I never want you to feel like that sweetheart. If you only saw yourself the way that I see you. You're the most precious person to me, the love of my life, y/n. You make me so incredibly happy." He rubs his thumb on your cheek, looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "Please never question how I feel about you. I couldn't adore you more."

You take a moment to process his words, giving your heart time to accept them as truth. "I love you Haechan."

He presses a sweet kiss onto your lips. "I love you, y/n. so so so much."

#haechan #nct 127 #nct #fluff #k-pop #drabble #imagine #nct dream #nct scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #established relationship #haechan x reader #haechan x you #haechan x y/n

[channiespokemon]

Just a few more minutes (Bang Chan x reader)

Bang Chan x reader

you/your pronouns, reader calls Chan Chris, Chris calls reader baby and babygirl

author note: This is my first time posting my work on tumblr! I am new to posting on here, so please bear with me with formatting, etc. This is super self-indulgent (I know, I'm sorry). Hope you enjoy!! <3

“Let me wash your hair,” Chris says behind you. You’re sitting in the bathtub, your favorite form of self-care. Your back is to his chest, and you feel it rumble as he talks. 

“Just a few more minutes,” you say. Moments like these are your favorite, and despite being so domestic, these sweet, fleeting moments where the both of you can forget about work and other responsibilities are some of your favorites. 

Chris has been extremely busy at work lately as the cycle of preparing for comeback is drawing near. He’s been staying longer in the studio, and most nights you’re sound asleep when he finally trudges through the door to your shared apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Even though he stays super busy, he always makes time for you to have a night together at least once a week. 

This week, however, had been particularly rough. Work was exceptionally demanding, requiring you to work extra hours in order to meet an important deadline. And Chris wasn’t home to comfort you, so you’re really trying to hold it all in. You don’t want Chris to know you’re upset because you don’t want your precious quality time taken away by emotions that will still be here tomorrow. Instead, you just want your normal bath and cuddles when you lay down for bed. 

Chris, though, is keen to notice when your mood changes. “You’re awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?” he asks as he strokes your arm with the tips of his fingers. 

You raise to sit up fully, bringing your knees to your chest. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Come on, I know you better than that. Tell me, baby, so I can make you feel better, yeah?” 

Tears threaten your eyes, but you take a few breaths to keep your emotions in check. You should have known Chris would press for information. After all, he knows you like the back of his hand. “I’m okay,” you insist, so he concedes and leans you back ever so slightly so he can start on your hair. 

“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you look like this?” he asks as he lathers the shampoo in your hair. 

You let out a low chuckle. “How am I beautiful with no makeup on and suds in my hair?” 

“Because you’re beautiful. I’d still think you’re beautiful even if you stepped in dog poop.” 

You laugh out loud this time, and Chris smiles fondly. Out of all the music in the world and the songs he produces, your laugh is his favorite sound. 

“How was your week, baby?” Chris asks, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Tears flow freely from your eyes, and you sob as he tries to rinse your hair. “Babygirl, what’s the matter?” He starts to panic as sobs wrack your body with no sign of slowing down. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he says repeatedly, testing out his best soothing voice to see if it will calm you down. 

“I…just had…the…the worst week,” you say in between sobs. “And you weren’t here to comfort me.”

You didn’t mean it to sound so bitter, and the last thing you wanted was to get in the way of his work, but dammit you really needed him there. You miss the way his face drops, a deep crease forming between his brows as he silently chastises himself for not being present. 

“Well, I’m here now,” Chris says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s get dried off and order something for dinner. And I’ll stay home tomorrow to make it up to you, yeah?”

He rubs your back gently and moves to get out, but you stop him. “Just a few more minutes.”

#bang chan #bang chris #chan #skz bang chan #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 3, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking as usual. angsty!!! minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: sorry for the kinda late posting, was at the lake this weekend hehe. v angsty chapter but i hope u love it!!

summary: feelings get involved.

masterlist | chapter 2 | chapter 4

When the morning light filters through your curtains that morning, it’s disappointing to see that he’s not there laying with you. Not an abnormal offence, sure, but it was beginning to hurt more and more when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. The closer you got with him, the more it hurt to wake up alone, knowing he didn’t want to spend the night with you afterwards. 

When you finally did make it out of bed, you opened your bedroom door to a very not-empty kitchen. Carmy had his back turned, slightly hunched over the stove with a two pans on the burners, soft sizzling coming from his general direction. You were surprised to see him there, dipping a spoon in the sauce he was making before turning around and seeing you standing there. “Good morning. Did I wake you?”

This was certainly becoming something else entirely.

“No, not at all. Hi.” He looked a little disheveled and sleepy still, white t-shirt now pulled over his chest, slightly riding up in the front and exposing his lower stomach. You did make a mental note that he hadn’t worn his boxers to bed last night. “Hi,” he does a little skip out of the kitchen, coming towards you, leaning in for a warm kiss planted right on your lips. He tasted of butter and slightly of toothpaste. “I made you an omelette,” he goes back to his pan and grabs you a plate, but not before looking through a few cupboards to find where the plates actually are. He puts up a perfect orange-yellow French omelette, sprinkling a few fresh chives overtop. “What has gotten into you?” you laugh, taking the breakfast from him and cutting off a small piece. He looked a little flustered, watching you take the first bite. “Good?” He asked excitedly. “Delicious. Don’t dodge the question. Why are you being like this? What… happened?” 

He seemed a little nervous, before leaning over the counter across from you and clasping his hands together. “I’m bad at this,” he starts, drawing his eyes down and attempting not to make eye contact with you. “I’m so bad at all of this shit, and, I feel fuckin’… I feel bad.” your heart sank a little, as you placed the fork on the side of your plate and listened. “Y’know, I was with Claire for a little while, as you, well, as you know it didn’t end well, so I’m kinda scared of all this shit.” You nodded along, not being able to avoid taking another small bite of the food in front of you. Shit, he really did know how to fuckin’ cook.

“But I like you. And I kept leaving in the middle of the night because I was scared you were gonna wake up and regret it, and regret me, and all this,” he’s so awkwardly sincere, it almost makes your stomach hurt. “But at the restaurant yesterday, and last night, I just felt…” he stops for a moment, trying so hard not to self-sabotage for once, “I felt like you just really wanted me here. And I haven’t felt like that maybe, maybe fuckin’, maybe ever.” the silence that was laid over the kitchen was loud as you let yourself stare at him a little. “Please say something,” he pleaded, his smirk curling up on the left corner of his mouth. 

“Carmen, every second I get to be with you is fucking… awesome,” you start, getting up from your seat and letting your hands press against his chest. “I don’t know how to do this either. I just… I’m really happy you’re here too.” 

“And, well, I just feel, just fucking stop me if I’m being insane-” you let your lips attach to his then, closing the gap between you two and forcing him to just be in the moment. “Shut up,” and it’s eager against his lips. “Don’t burn your hollandaise.” And when he pulls away to turn the heat off on the pans, he laughs at his own clumsiness. 

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

—

The only problem now is that there is a secret looming over everyone at The Bear. It’s like the mood shifted when you walked into work on Monday morning, and not just because you had a little pep in your step, but it almost felt like everyone knew.

You’re sure they didn’t, there was no way to know, truly, but it felt like it. There wasn’t even really anything to know, because you hadn’t done a lot of talking about anything after that morning, and instead had chosen to spend the day tangled up in your sheets and trying new recipes in the kitchen. There was no label, no conversation, no anything, so there was really nothing to know.

But it felt like everyone knew.

So when Carmy waltzed in at noon and put his bag away in his locker, hanging up his wool jacket that now smelled of your vanilla perfume, it took every bone in your body not to act like he was your boyfriend. Or, whatever this was now.

But he breezed by you easily, barely even giving you a nod of acknowledgment, and you guess it kinda made sense. Workplace relationships were generally frowned upon by, well, everyone, and the mess that Carmy had gotten into with Claire certainly didn’t paint him as the nicest person to be involved with. He was always going a mile a minute at work anyways, back and forth from office to prep to expo, and you knew he wouldn’t be giving you any special treatment.

What you weren’t expecting was his completed ignorance of your presence, as if you weren’t even in the building. He didn’t want to make anything obvious, sure, but he was at the point where it was honestly kind of funny how much he had switched up.

“Is Carmy mad at you or something?” Sydney asked, pulling you out of your coconut macaroon trance. “I don’t think so, why?” She leaned against your station and watched as he fingered through paper in the office, making a few small notes into a notebook. He was oblivious to the fact that Sydney was staring daggers at him. “He just seems like, annoyed, I guess.” “Isn’t Carmy always annoyed?” she giggled a little at that. “Yeah. He is. I heard Claire was trying to get a hold of him, from Richie,” she whispered. “Like a few nights ago. I guess she wants to give it another chance and like, forgave him or whatever.” You felt your cheeks start to get hot. “Oh, yeah? She, uh, - she told him that?”

She looked at you, seemingly right through your eyes and into your soul. “Does that mean something to you if she did?” You suddenly felt very on the spot, not knowing what to say. “Look, you’re not the first person to have a little crush on your boss okay? But don’t… don’t do it with him. He’s got something going on with Claire that’s just… something else. That’s old family shit, you don’t wanna get involved with that. He’s never gonna get over her.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Syd,” and it all felt a little wrong because now your mouth was dry and your head was spinning a little, because deep down, maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe if Claire was gonna come running back and forgive Carmy, maybe you didn’t stand a chance.

So you made your macaroons, and iced your cakes, and tried not to think about it.

- 

It’s the beginning of the end when he starts just coming over to your place after work, instead of asking. 

It’s a routine now - you’d stay late together, watching every last one of them leave, before hopping into Carmy’s passenger side and letting his rough hands find the top of your thigh as he drove the familiar way back to your place. You’d share a bowl of chips and salsa, or sometimes a grilled cheese if you were feeling particularly fancy. On Sundays, if he hadn’t stayed the night before, you’d order takeout and watch each other’s favourite movies, no matter how many times you’d seen them before. 

It was becoming harder to ignore the looming cloud of Claire. You knew you needed to ask, like, what the fuck was going on, because the problem with dating Carmy and no one knowing was that you were still in on all of the kitchen gossip. Richie was the perpetrator of it all, which made it mostly questionable, but it had some merit nonetheless.

“I heard she called him crying on the phone and was begging for him back, and he was all like, “Claire no, you’re drunk, you’ll regret calling me, or some shit,” Richie had started, and your interest was piqued. “I doubt that happened,” Sydney added, talking just loud enough for you to eavesdrop. “He’s just never gonna get over what an ass wipe he is, beat himself up about it forever, and never properly love again. I think.” And even though the small giggles that erupted from the group were low and gentle, it didn’t hurt any less that everyone seemed to collectively agree that Carmy had fucked her over so bad that he would probably be broken forever. Ergo, you were just a rebound. Nothing more.

When you’re being eerily silent on the couch one night, he seems to notice. “What’s up?” He’s so innocent when he asks, eyes still on the TV in front of him, a spoon stuck into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in his lap. “What really happened with you and Claire, anyways? What’s the story?”

He looked a little jarred by the question, suddenly feeling like the room was too small and the breeze was too cold and it all felt a little weird. 

“What do you wanna know? Like, from the beginning?”

“Yeah. Whatever you wanna tell me. However deep this goes.”

He can tell you’ve already overthought this to shit, and this was something he would have to navigate fairly carefully, lest there be a landmine.

“Uh, well, um, she was - like a family friend, while we are growin’ up, y’know. And I had a big crush on her then and I, um, well I didn’t see her for a long time and then she was just, like, in the grocery store that day, when I was buying veal stock?”

You nodded along attentively, watching as he slid his palms down his clothed thighs nervously.

“And uh, we started talking after that, rekindling old shit and just reminiscing, y’know? And it felt really nice. I hadn’t really had like, a real girlfriend before that, like a few hookups in New York and whatever but not like a partner,” he let his tongue dart in between his lips, a pause. “I guess I’m kinda outing myself as a loser, first real girlfriend at this age, but, I trusted her a lot and it felt kinda right.”

You don’t know if you were prepared for this conversation, but it was too late to take back the question.

“So we went out for a bit, and I really liked her, I guess I loved her, I don’t know. But when I was locked in the fridge on opening night and shit was going wrong I just, went on this tirade about how much I regretted being with her and spending so much time and energy on her when I should’ve been dealing with my fuckin’ restaurant. And shit was falling apart and I was so upset about it all, and I just broke.” The silence was palpable.

“And she called me a few nights ago and she was drunk and yelling at me, and I never intended to be such a fucking asshole but I was. And then I kinda heard through the grapevine that she wanted to talk to me again, and explain, but I just felt… like I can’t fix it. So what’s the point, ya know? And- and she told me that she wanted to fix it, and she would forgive me, and stuff, but it’ll never be the same.”

“Would you fix it with her if you could? If it could go back to the way it was?”

There’s silence, again. And this time, there’s an answer hidden under it, one that is better left unsaid. Suddenly there’s an awkwardness, and Carmy’s looking at you with his usually warm blue eyes, but they look icy tonight. You know he feels bad, but not bad enough to be over her completely, and the blanket of sadness that is laid over the room suddenly feels rather overwhelming.

The words hang on the tip of his tongue, as you grab the dishes in front of you and step over him to go to the kitchen, putting them in the sink to soak. You let the hot water run over the porcelain, letting a few small tears fall from the sides of your eyes, into the murky water below. The long sleeve you’re wearing gets pulled up over your hands to wipe the tears away, taking a few shallow breaths to hopefully stop them from staining your cheeks.

He’s beside you in the kitchen now, an apologetic look on his face, watching as you turn to face him. “Maybe you should just go home tonight,” you finally say. “I could use a night to myself.” “Don’t, I didn’t mean-“ “It’s okay, Carmen, really. I’d just rather be alone.” He looks down at his socked feet on your kitchen floor, nodded silently before grabbing his keys and his coat, slipping on his shoes, and walking out.

You watch him from the front window, arms crossed over your chest. He lets a fist hit the roof of his car, and you can hear his “Fuck!” Ring out into the night sky. The orange tip of his cigarette creates a faint glow by his face as he gets in. The tears well up in your eyes as he drives off, leaving you alone in your apartment, before you turn away and let yourself collapse into bed.

#carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

[sunnycanvas]

Hello^^ I have been following your blog for a while and like that you want to explore different concepts with Baldwin IV👑🩵

If you don’t mind, would you like to write either a short drabble or Hcs of Baldwin comforting his wife after a really difficult birth? Like, it all turned out okay, the wife is alive, albeit very exhausted, the Baby came out to be strong and healthy, etc. but it was a very risky and long labor, and the physicians weren’t sure if she and the child were going to make it yk? After all, giving birth was highly risky back then, with a much higher mortality rate.

Anyway, I hope you are having a great day and keep up the good work🥳🌈✨

Yelp! It went longer that I expected. Hopefully it lives upto mark. Thank you for your support and happy reading

It felt so peaceful. So dark. I was exhausted and felt solace in darkness. However in my deep slumber I heard a sound of weeping. Someone calling my name. Begging me to come back. "Your grace the queen is fine but really exhausted" "Please let her sleep" "She needs rest to regain strength" . I think I heard some shouts and I don't remember much after that except the fact that I tried opening my eyes but I felt so tired. When I was finally able to open my eyes. I felt my mouth open and chest sweaty huffing desperate to get fresh air. "When did this happen" I thought. It almost felt like a dream .My head was spinning. My throat felt dry. I tried moving a bit when I could feel sticky wet substance below my waist I tried moving my legs again but realised that I was too exhausted to do so . "What's happening" I thought again worried.

"My wife is finally awake, quickly get some water"

My husband took the glass of water from widwife. Baldwin IV made me sit upright as he quickly fed me water. Baldwin IV didn't realise in state of panic how fast he was being in feeding me water. I started coughing as result

"Easy love". He gently rubbed my back as he handed back glass of water to midwife. My husband started kissing me all over my face and then hugged me tightly.

"Darling, you made it" "I am really happy" "When I saw you laying down like that l" "I was so scared, I thought I will never see you again" I could feel my shoulder getting wet from his tears as Baldwin IV kissed my hair while speaking to me. I remembered that when I was going through difficult labour. Although the baby came out alive and strong they weren't sure I would make it. After hearing this I lost consciousness

Remembering about the baby I asked where is the baby right now. Baldwin IV replied that our child was fine and is currently with the midwife who was taking care of baby

"Moment I heard one of the midwife saying that perhaps you might not survive I grew anxious and prayed to God on my knees for some miracle"

I got really scared remembering the pain I had to bear while screaming in agony. I got really nervous realising how close I was knocking at death's door. My husband the king, Baldwin IV was able to comprehend my emotional state. Without hesitation he took off his white cloak and covered me in it. He hugged me again and started drawing circles on arm while singing a lullaby. It worked and I felt myself getting calmer. "My love I am here" "I'll be there to protect you, even if it's my own battle". Hearing this I immediately voiced my thoughts "It had been a tough experience" ."We will have more children I swear it, it would be better for everyone"

"Was that the reason why you decided to have a baby"

"......."

Baldwin IV understood the meaning behind my silence. Baldwin IV sat on the bed and said "Yes, it's true that I always wanted to have a family of my own but long before I accepted my fate as leper and decided to live my life in chasity" "I am willing to go back to same life" "I thank God every day that you came in my life perhaps God gave you difficult labour because I was being greedy"

"No, love". "The kingdom needs a heir" "And I will give birth to as many children as possible" Baldwin IV understood the pressure I felt as queen replied "I know my (Y/N)" "And if you feel you don't want to go through it again" "I would have no problem with that, I will happily except our child as first and last". Baldwin IV called one of his ministers and said "Tell the council that I will be taking rest, Raymond of Tripoli could rule in my place for the time being". I was about to protest but Baldwin IV put a finger against my lips shushing me. "You were left alone during your labour, but I won't be leaving you alone after I almost lost you" "Come now love, let's sleep together" "After that we will be taking a bath together and enjoy all the activities you prefer" "You need rest" "I will ensure you won't be going out of my sight for the time being". Baldwin IV got next to me and pulled me closer. "I can't sleep" I complained

"In that case I shall tell you stories of brave knights and kings". I smiled remembering Baldwin IV loved history and foundly I watched him and he excitedly recalled the history stories he learned.

#baldwin iv #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven headcanons #king baldwin iv

[tac-owo-sensei]

G/T Comfort Cause I Need Some

I could feel the tears building up in the back of my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. My breathing was slowly growing more and more erratic. I didn’t understand- why was I suddenly being hit with so many strong emotions? So many things plaguing me now that hadn’t been nearly as bothersome as before. I hugged my knees closer to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut.

So many things going on at once- bad memories leading to more memories, until it spiraled to a point where I was no longer focused on reality.

I didn’t register the tears finally spilling out, nor the thunderous footsteps slowing drawing nearer, at least not until I felt something warm and squishy slide under me.

It was a hand, the hand of my best friend.

I looked up, attempting to wipe away my tears so I wouldn’t look more pathetic then I already did, but they refused to relent.

“Hey…” he whispered, gently rubbing my back with his thumb. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re okay, you’re going to be okay. I turned around and squeezed his thumb into a hug, resting my cheek into the padded finger. I sobbed- finally letting the river flow. He made hushing sounds before gently pressing me against his chest. By now, my back was resting against his palm, my front against his soft shirt. I was completely enveloped by him. I squeezed the fabric of his shirt tightly in both hands, attempting to get as close to him as I could. Eventually, I curled into myself, my eyes beginning to droop as the tears began to slow down. “Are you better now?” He asked. It wasn’t until now that I realized he began pacing around the room, somehow managing to jostle me just enough so that it was comforting rather than terrifying. God- it’s so strange to think that I used to fear this glorified-human(?) teddy bear.

I attempted to nod in response, but it must’ve felt more like I was nuzzling into him. So, I let out a quiet, muffled ‘yes.’ I felt him lightly tracing over my hair with his index finger.

“Would you like me to put you down?” He asked, sitting down on what I assumed to be his couch.

“…Can we stay like this for a bit? Please?” My voice came out soft- shakier than expected. I hated this feeling, feeling so pathetic and needy. It disgusted me, but right now, I wanted to do nothing more then to leave myself completely surround by his warmth. Thankfully, he complied, enjoying one another’s company for a good while, with eventually me drifting off to sleep.

I just really needed this right now and I hope this helps whoever else needs it. Ah, to be comforted by a giant. Unfortunately, a scenario that will only happen in my wildest dreams.

#g/t #g/t scenario #giant tiny #gentle giant #g/t writing #g/t community #g/t comfort #giant/tiny #size difference #sfw g/t

[blackleatherjacketz]

And kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Jake Lockley x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Public Sex, Sex With Your Ex, Doggy Style, Winter, Snow, Car Sex, Choking

The bitter chill of December holds him in place, forcing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as the pale moonlight shines through his inky black curls, casting an azure shadow onto his face. He leans his back against his faded yellow taxi, one leg casually crossed over the other as he holds back a grin while you cautiously approach the vehicle.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember calling a cab.” You click the locking mechanism on your keychain before walking toward him to get a better look.

“Thought you might want a ride.” He winks as you get closer, pulling his hands out of his pockets and shifting the weight in his hips to stand at full attention.

Only one of the three would drive halfway across town in the middle of the night for you, showing up at your place unannounced with those eyes, heavy with want. You can feel them on you now, you always could; burning into you like the blackest of nights as they pull you in just close enough for him to touch you, then it’s all over. He never really had to say anything to reel you in, to ask you to share your body with him before that magnetic pull between you two finally became too much to bear. The both of you knew he wouldn’t have to do any of that tonight either, even after everything that’s happened.

Within the blink of an eye he has you bent over the hood of his car, the frigid winter air shocking your skin as he pushes his heat inside of you inch by chaotic fucking inch. You let yourself forget that Marc hasn’t called you in over a month, that you saw Steven’s typing bubble hover next to his name this week only to disappear into oblivion. You forget all the terrible things your anxiety filled the silence with as Jake wraps his gloved hand around your throat, chasing that feeling of pure ecstasy inside of you as he hits that magical spot.

You rock into him, pushing your hips backward against his pelvis as his other hand finds its way between your legs, pressing firmly onto your bud. You can see your breath as he draws the pleasure right out of you, a half circle of moisture on the aged paint of the taxi cab, smeared only by your cheek as he drills you even faster.

“I miss you so fucking much,” he whispers into the air, his brief moment of vulnerability covered up a string of Spanish expletives.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of a reply, you close your eyes and let him please you. You can’t help but cry out as he keeps hitting that intricate bundle of nerves, your moans echoing loudly across the snow filled parking lot, drifting into the air in a visible white cloud as you both shake and shiver against the chilling metal frame of the car. He nearly collapses on top of you once he’s satisfied, slowly loosening his grip on your neck as he steadies his pace, thrusting hard and deep every other time just to get another good yelp out of the base of your lungs.

“Aye, mi amor,” he kisses his words into your cheek, adding to the diameter of your breath mark on the hood as he exhales, watching the dawn begin to break. “We miss you so fucking much.”

#jake lockley smut #jake lockley #moon knight #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #Oscar Isaac #marvel #Marc Spector #Steven grant #moon knight imagine

[junkdrawerfics]

Physical Touch

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw X Reader

Summary: Rooster has a hard day, and some cuddles are the perfect solution.

Word Count: 917

no beta

---

You noticed it slowly over the first few months of being with Bradley. It started with small things. The way his eyes would close whenever you cup his face. How he softens whenever you hug him from behind. Or the way he holds you just a little bit tighter when you play with his hair late at night when you are both on the edge of sleep.

He loves physical touch.

You don’t bring it up, between not feeling a need to point it out, and the strong persona your boyfriend likes to wear, even around you. You definitely don’t let the realization go to waste though. Not when you love touching the man so much, however that might be. And it comes in handy on the hard days - like today.

When Rooster comes home early instead of going to the Hard Deck with the Daggers like he usually does after a week of training, you can tell something is off. He drops his bag as soon as he passes through the door, barely taking the time to lock it before kicking his shoes off and shuffling into the living room. The taut draw of his shoulders is all it takes for you to set your book aside and focus on him.

“Welcome home, Roo,” you murmur, and he tosses you a soft smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks exhausted. You frown, shifting over to make room for him on the couch, “Come here.”

You don’t have to ask him twice. Rooster practically collapses onto the couch next to you, almost breaking the poor thing, you’re sure. It only takes a little tug on his shoulder for him to lean into you, a quiet, shuddering breath escaping him. You gently trace your fingers over his face, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. His arms curl around your waist tightly, almost desperately, and in that moment you know you���ll stay like this for as long as he needs.

“Hard day, sweetheart?” You ask, lips brushing his forehead where you plant a soft kiss.

Bradley just nods into your shoulder. You don’t press, knowing he’d explain if he wanted to, and instead just keep tracing his features. Your fingers skim down his nose and back up to trace his temple, down his jaw, back up to his cheek. And repeat. When he starts to relax, his body weight pressing you down into the couch, you switch to carding them through his hair. Rooster goes limp when you run your nails from the crown of his head to his neck, a low hum vibrating through his chest.

Twenty minutes of this, and you have a very drowsy, very relaxed aviator leaning against you. You hold him close, memorizing the slow rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his body, the way it feels with the two of you curving together like pieces of a puzzle. You press another kiss to his forehead, and this time he picks up his head, giving you a chance to press a soft, saccharine kiss to his lips. Those hazel eyes you love so much, though practically lidded, glow with warmth and fondness.

“You’re something else,” Bradley murmurs, forehead pressing to yours.

“I know.” A teasing smile graces your lips, but you wait, knowing that’s not it.

After a few moments of silence, he concedes in a worn voice, “I had a hard day.”

“Can you tell me more?” You prompt and gently brush your thumb over his cheek.

“Just-” a heavy sigh, “-Mav and I got into a fight. He said something about dad and I just…lost it.”

“I’m sorry, Roo. That sounds really painful.” He hates fighting with Maverick, since the man is practically a second father figure to him. And to have Goose brought up? You can’t imagine the turmoil that must have caused. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” He breathes, burying himself back into your side. “I swear you have magic hands, babe.”

“Magic, huh?”

“Sure feels like it.”

“That would explain why you always turn into such a teddy bear when I touch you,” you tease, smiling into his hair.

“No I don’t,” he scoffs, but you see his ears burn a soft pink.

“Please, Bradley, you practically melt when I play with your hair.” You curl your fingers through the shorter strands at the base of his neck, making the aviator tighten his grip on you. “There’s no shame in it, Roo. It’s just me, afterall.”

“But you’re the one that matters,” he all but grumbles, ears going darker.

Your heart melts at the admission. Is it even possible to love this man more?

“Well, I love all of you, Bradley, including the soft parts,” you murmur, “There’s not a single side to you that I am not madly in love with.”

Rooster pulls back again, eyes laden with affection, “How do you always know what to say?”

“Comforting 101. Took it in college.”

This finally brings a full smile to his face, one of those wide, lopsided ones that make your chest ache with fondness.

“You’re so dumb,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Hey, you picked me, so what does that say about you?”

“Oh, shut up.” 

The grin remains, even as you lean down and meet him in a tender kiss. It must be contagious too, because you pull back with one just as wide, just as loving.

Yah, this whole physical touch thing isn’t bad at all.

---

I love that there's just kind of a consensus that Rooster's ears blush. I've seen it in so many fics, and I think it's super adorable.

#bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #cuddles #give the man a hug

[bearlyfunctioning]

Don’t panic ‘The Bear Minimum’ will still show up every now and again, just a lot less than it used to. This is a continuation of my thoughts on the comic I posted here last. I’m just not enjoying making art anymore, like -not at all- & it’s really getting me down. Art is an intrinsic part of my identity, so not wanting to do it feels awful. This reticence has been building for at least 4 years now & as of last year I have been acting on my desire to leave art as a career, before I burn out to a crisp. Please note this is the first time in a long time I am feeling mentally healthy & have the resources to go without my portion of our income for some time (while I try to get IRL work). So, I really need to seize this moment of security to make big life changes. Even if it means we’re going to have to tighten our budget a lot while I try to find work. Some of you may remember that I am attending school full-time for an assistant administration diploma, ideally to have a broad skillset to bring with me while job hunting. I’ll be graduating from that course at the end of May if everything goes as planned. I have been on a commission hiatus since the start of this year to put schooling in action, continuing only with the weekly comic & monthly Patreon exclusive work. This brought my monthly income down to 1/3rdof what it usually is, but that was all I could manage alongside fulltime school. Doing so much less drawing has been incredibly beneficial to my RSI hand pain! For the first time in years, I can go to sleep without restrictive arm braces & I don’t need maintenance from the physiotherapist. I honestly thought that was permanent so I can’t even convey my relief there! However, despite drawing a lot less, my love for making art did not return. I enjoy making comics, but they are a whole lotta line-art & that can be a very repetitive process. Being a comic artist has been extremely good for my growth online; to the point where I owe half or more of my current following to it. Some people don’t even know I draw other things, that’s how good their reach is compared to my other art. Despite that I am going to be taking the comic off schedule. Even if it means sacrificing most or all my Patreon income and kneecapping my reach on every platform. I’ve been making the comic 4 times a month, with little break for 6 years. It started as a good outlet for my thoughts & an exercise in consistency, as I had never had a schedule of any sort prior. Doing the comic weekly was a great lesson in self motivation, but no one is forcing me to continue with it other than me. Plenty of times the deadline came I didn’t have a good idea & just made something I wasn’t proud of, because it was income and because I had just done it every week for so long. If you don’t enjoy my non bear/comic art, then I suppose we’ll part ways. In the end I must do right by me though & I feel like this is the best choice right now. Patrons have been notified on what will be happening over there in their own post.

#notacomic #announcement #The Bear Minimum #artist problems

[jester-lover]

SLENDERVERSE CHARACTERS: giving you a hug!! (Everyman HYBRID ver.)

Warnings: BLOOD, fluff, lore spoilers, mentions of violence, habit

Characters featured: Vinny, Jeff, Evan, Damsel/Stephanie, Alex, HABIT, Slenderman

Vinny Everyman

Bear hug, every time

Homie doesn’t even think, he just sees you and pounces

He’s so warm too

Industrial space heater

Cuddles get a lil tough because of that

He’s so sweet though

Always loosens his grip if he thinks you’re getting uncomfortable

Will accidentally hit his glasses on yours's (if you have them)

“You’re finally here!”

Jeff Koval

At the beginning of your relationship, he’s anxious towards affection

But when he’s comfortable, he’s comfortable

Will be behind with you at every moment he gets weirdly paranoid, hugging you close

Sometimes, when he gets so anxious he can’t sleep, he’ll stay up so late it’ll mess up his sleep schedule, he’s very affectionate when he’s sleepy

“I’m so tired, please don’t let go of me.”

Evan

Before HABIT, he’s really your average college kid

Hugs before and after classes

Smiles at you during any classes you share (not a thought in his head)

He’s rather short, so usually he’s resting his head on your shoulder, but if you are even shorter, he’s definitely putting his head on top of yours

Holds you whenever you watch movies together or play video games

After HABIT, it all changes

He’s so terrified of hurting you he backs away, he’s no longer affectionate because he feels like he can’t trust his own body

This is where you step up, you reassure him that he is still deserving of love and support

He breaks down in your arms, everything is going to be okay

Even for a little while

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t know what’s real.”

Stephanie

(Could not find a gif of her:(

In my own opinion, damsel/Stephanie seems to be a bit more of a serious character, one who is hunting down Slender without a laugh in sight

She’s a sucker for hugs, especially if she wants to calm down after a tough day

Will be so happy if you hug her while she’s painting (be aware that you will have paint on you)

Has off days, usually when her nightmares get worse

It’s better to leave her alone on those days, she just wants to cry in frustration

After she feels better, she’ll give you a hug and ask to draw something with her

“Keep your pencil there, the shadows aren’t deep enough.”

Alex Koval

Since Alex is another character we know little about, I have read his wiki and rewatched his appearances in the series, I will choose to portray him as the more timid Koval brother, one who is haunted by the events in his life. If you don’t like this characterization, please consider leaving suggestions for a better characterization, I’m always open to kind criticism.

Alex has never been in a relationship as serious as he has with you.

He holds you so dear to his heart, it almost hurts him every time he sees you go

Alex tends to talk to himself a lot, he gets picked on a lot by his colleagues for his strange behavior

But not you, you never pick on him

You are soft and kind to him, he hasn’t felt like this before

He holds you, unless the thing by his bedside is near, he gets strangely, almost aggressively distant when the scratches start appearing

One day, when you finally break and ask him why he won’t give you affection anymore, he shows his scars to you

He tells you he won’t let it happen to you

“You mean more than anything, you can’t get hurt. I won’t let it hurt you.”  

HABIT

Absolute little degenerate

Homie will jump on you the second you walk through the door

Will go off about everything he’s done that day, even if you want to hear it or not

Definitely hogs the bed, will not give you an INCH of blanket, he also grips on to you like you’re gonna fly away

I’m so sorry if you like cooking, he will come up behind you and scare you before hugging you

On a more positive note, he deeply enjoys dancing around in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra playing in the background, it’s one of the few times the both of you feel content

“Humans are so soft.”

Slenderman

My depiction of Everyman Hybrid slender is a slightly more modern creature than a puritan eldritch, like, he’s still been around (and smart) for a long time, but he’s learned to stick with the times. This also helps me put together some of his hijinks in the series.

He does not give hugs !!!

He is pure evil !!!!

But I choose to ignore that !!

He has extremely long limbs perfect for hugging

Def will make you climb him like a tree to hug you though, out of spite

He also is a gentleman who will always ask for your consent before initiating larger displays of affection

Plays music while you cuddle, but not like classical, he listens to the smiths.

Look at him and tell me this isn’t a Smiths fan

If you give him a lil kiss he’ll be very happy it’s heartwarming

“*silence*”

Thank you for reading! I’ll be working on creepypasta content too, Laughing Jack is on the list (my personal favorite), but I need recommendations!! Who would you like to see in future posts regarding creepypasta?

#slenderverse x reader #habit x reader #vinny everyman #vinny everyman x reader #jeff koval #jeff koval x reader #evan meyers #evan meyers x reader #damsel x reader #stephanie everymanhybrid #damsel emh #alex koval #alex Koval x reader #habit everymanhybrid #habit emh #slenderverse #slenderman x reader #slenderman #reader insert #new fanfic blog #fanfiction #fanfic #female reader #gn reader #fem!reader #gn!reader #affection #love #hugging

[dani-r]

I had a moment of remembrance of my crazy childhood (all lives and childhoods are crazy, of course, but, please, let it be known that I had a really crazy one). This little story is about my first and last attempt at stardom as a child actor on screen. It has some exciting twists! Bear with me, is long-ish, but is one of my favourite “weird dani anecdotes” to tell at parties. Here, for you all, with 5 minute drawings!

My brother’s father (not the same father, but the same mom) had lots of friends from the independent film scene here and one of them needed children of four or five years old for a short film he was directing. So mom, seeing already a histrionic and bombastic nature in her eldest child, saw it as an opportunity to cultivate that inclination.

So she took me to the studio where they were going to film the scene, it was in San Telmo, one of the oldest neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires. I remember it so clearly: looking around, fascinated by the old colonial buildings and asking about the narrow, so narrow streets, and mom telling me that this place was old, hundreds of years old, so the streets are narrow and short, so different from our block. Love at first sight. To this day my favourite place in the city.

We arrive and my next memory is seeing a group of children with their parents. I remember looking at each other with the caution and distrust a priori that you got when you are five and meet another unknown five year olds. The adults there (now I know that they were the production team) gave us kindergarten uniforms. I was… in awe, it was a private school uniform! Like, the green plane colour ones with a big blue pocket. I was, for some hours, a private school kid. I was looking and touching the uniform completely transfixed on that. In hindsight, seeing how private schools are here, I am so, so glad I had public education from 4 to my 30s —we have great free public schools and universities— but at the time, to me it was a sign of a kid “living large”.

They put us all in a room and I don’t have so much of a memory of that except for three things: I was fascinated by the amount of wires and machines in front of me, the fact that a kind-looking woman with glasses was behind the biggest machine (it was a camera) and that mom was not there (we knew, after, that they took all the parents outside the room with the excuse that we could get distracted during the shoot, which, fair. But we will know in the next scene of this story the exact motive, stay tuned, this gets fun).

They put me at the side of a big woman with a trenchcoat and a blond perm that told me to “be calm and look like this:” and made an expression of worry, with her hands together in front of her. I, of course, saw that and put my hands together exactly like hers, and nothing more. In five year old Dani’s defence, I saw the hands! And she told me to look like her! Technically, I was right. So I stayed like that and nobody noticed the duplication of poses.

And then. Silence. I remember the silence. And then, shouts, so many shouts, a big guy, with a leather jacket, comes fast, shouting at us so much and shaking a gun (I was aware, via television and some neighbours, of dangerous dudes with guns). I was confused, and everything was so fast. 

Suddenly that same shouting guy grabs me by the shoulder, manhandles me and I feel the gun on my temple. I remember, crystal clear, to be… confused. Just, utterly confused. Because in front of me were the big cameras, and the people there were exactly the same as before, the same expressions and attitudes, like nothing was happening out of the ordinary. So it felt weird, none of them reacting like the ones behind me. So I just... stood there, in the hands of the noisy guy, with a gun on my head. 

Next thing I remember is my mom being furious. And telling me that what they did was an awful, unethical thing to do and that they were “unas basuras, tremendos hijos de remil puta” [garbage people, fucking sons of bitches]. That they did that to extract an expression of fear out of me, instead of telling me to act. She let them have it, I can tell you.

She never spoke again with the guy, but I asked her for a long time about that “movie I was at” that she got a copy years later and I was able to see it, finaly, when I was ten. It was crazy seeing myself in a moving image (I mean, the next time in my life that I get filmed at will be at 14, filming was expensive before smartphones and nobody in my family owned a home camera or such). I saw myself as a super small child, in a 2 minute scene inside a very pretentious and shitty short film, being used as a hostage. And let me tell you: It was hilarious, priceless, absolutely incredible. Because the scene is ruined by my expression. There is a close up of my face and the gun, and I am… kind of smiling, a confused and completely out of place smile. I am so bemused by all that there is no fear, only confusion. I am smiling with a fucking gun on my temple. A bewildered five year old being manhandled and threatened on camera making a face of "huh?". I ruined everything for them. They had one shot of that, they had to use it. 

The lesson of the story: If you ever film with kids, they are not stupid, but you may be (if you do things like this). Just explain to them about acting, about pretending. Practise if you want a less “play pretend” act and more of a subtle thing. Don’t obscure your intentions, not only because is a shitty thing to do —and this dude was lucky that I was already a weird child, for a less weird child this could have been a traumatic experience— but also because the scene is going to be absolutely fucking ruined and it will be funny as hell. 

Today mom is bringing what we think is the actual vhs with the short film. I am getting next week the equipment to be able to see if she’s right. I wish so hard for it to be that shitty short film, because I will have finally the greatest treasure I desire since there is web 2.0: the best profile picture ever, forever.

#dani's weird life stories #please please let it be that vhs copy please #i want it for a cv picture i want it for a t-shirt i need it #life shenanigans #mom is still angry over that. it was 27 years ago #long post #children in peril #but no actually #stupid cinema dudes and a confused child

[yoiiwonn]

Zhang Hao scenario when he teaches you how to write Chinese words please? Thank you.

𝜗𝜚 rainy day learning.

𝜗𝜚 OVERVIEW requested! zhanghao x gn!reader 𝜗𝜚 GENRE fluff, drabble/scenario 𝜗𝜚 MASTERLIST 𝜗𝜚 TAGLIST (open!!) 𝜗𝜚 REQUESTS OPEN

note — I am not chinese, i’m using a translator for the character meanings, so please please PLEASE!! let me know if any of them are wrong in any way and i will change them <3

A predictable rainy day set in. Though gloomy, it was comforting, since it hadn’t rained in quite a bit. The shared apartment you were cramped in produced shakes at the harsh, yet calming downpour. It was quite nice this morning!

“good morning” you flashed a smile at your roommate, as he walked out into the kitchen in the most adorable periwinkle-colored star pajamas. The ones you had gotten for him on his last birthday. “you look dumb hao” you say, cracking a laugh at his messy hair, and wrinkled pajamas. He just waved you off and began to make his coffee in silence.

after having your mini breakfast, you’d thought it’d be a good day to nap, since work had gotten canceled due to the sudden stormy weather. And zhanghao ofcourse was off that day, so you two could just chill for the day.

Or so you thought..

as you lay down on the couch, snuggling in with the warmest blanket you could find, you heard him speak up from the kitchen.

“yknow the dare you gave me last night?” You thought to yourself for a moment… a dare? a dare… oh.

“you have to.. teach me chinese..!” you slurred your words a bit, tired eyes looking down as your body collapsed into his arms. “it’ll beeeee fun hao.” eyes closing now, you had almost passed out drunk. Zhanghao had taken you home from the place you had drank at with your coworkers, since your workplace had a big promotion party.

“Are you really going to want that? I won’t teach you easily, yknow.” he spoke with a pouty tone, still holding you. His calm appearance barely hid the extreme anxiety and redness that he felt deep down. You two had never been this physically close.

“hello? yn..?”

“I was drunk haoooooo..! i didn’t mean shit i said, you know that. I just wanna nap today.” sighing, you tried to lay to your side to avoid facing him. “nope, you asked and i’ll deliver! I’ll go grab some paper and two pens.” he seemed to add a bit more excitement to his tone, you found it comforting.

after about 3 minutes, he came back bearing a paper and 2 dark purple pens. Placing the paper on the table, he sat down, slightly nudging you to sit up, and eventually with a few more pushes you sat up.

“so…” your eyes scanned around the room, avoiding contact with him. “i’ll teach you how to write each word, and then we can make a sentence!” you thought it would be simple enough, just a couple of characters you had to draw and then you were off to nap to your hearts desire!

“we’ll start with the first one!” he took the pen, and began to write the character. 我 “soooooo what does it mean? cmon hurry i wanna sleep..” out of interest, you didn’t even notice the space between you both was almost non existent. “don’t rush me. In basic terms, it means I/me, but in this case we’ll say it means I. Can you try and write it?” You obliged, slowly copying the character that he wrote: 我

“this one, it means love. Could also mean affection, passion, and other things related to that!” 爱 he wrote this one slower, but you payed little attention to it. Just copying and doing as you were told. You were trying extra hard to copy as exact as you could, but you’d have to admit it was pretty hard. “move the pen like this” his hand hovered over yours, before eventually grabbing it. You felt a bit warm inside when he did this, but shook it off and continued to listen.

as his hand controlled yours, guiding the pen to show how it should be written, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It was truly an unreal feeling, so much so that you spaced out when he started talking again. 爱

“hey, wake up! one more to go and then i’ll spell it out.” You snapped out of it, nodding and locking in. “this one means you, it’s pretty simple. Just copy it and let me know if you need help!” 你 smiling, you focused on writing it. You could feel hal’s presence right next to you, unbeknownst to you, he was smiling ear to ear.

“so.. what’s it say?” you spoke, in anticipation “我爱你 or.. well..” he quietly replied. The sound of the rain stopping, the faint pitter-pattering coming to a halt. His face heating up, turning towards you and looking into your eyes. You titled your head in confusion, before he spoke up.

“i love you.”

AAAAAAA!!!! Writing this was SO FUN!!! I hope you like what i wrote <3 thank you so much for requesting!! and also let me know if you’d possibly like a short part 2..?

req by @sadfragilegirl

THANK YOU FOR READING

#⟢ REQUESTED #kpop #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zhang hao #hao #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #hao x reader #zhang hao imagines #zhang hao zb1 #yoiiwonn blog #yoiiwonn #request #reqs open #request please #requests #requests open #boyfriend #roomates #roommate