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peachypinkygloss · 11 months

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in the afternoon — kth

Loneliness is fatal, devoid of love and filled with many reasons to give up. It's only normal that he decides to look after you and protect you from the danger that the world represents today. His duty is to keep his wife and children safe.

ʚĭɞ Pairing: Husband!Taehyung x Wife!Reader

ʚĭɞ Genre: established relationship, smut

ʚĭɞ Word count: 3.6k

ʚĭɞ Warnings: free use, dub-con, fluff but don't get tricked, implied post-apocalyptic au, got poetic at the end hopefully it makes sense (surely not cause I say everything that crosses my mind — god knows my mind isn't really organized), pregnancy sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink next level lol, dom tae/sub reader, cum eating.

A.N.: idk this is some twisted fluff again (not so twisted, it's actually pretty normal if you don't read between the lines), don't thank me, mwah 💋

You're picking strawberries from the garden, dropping them into the basket you're holding. It's sunny today, the fresh breeze coming from the north making the weather bearable, unlike the previous days.

The many trees on the side of the garden hide you from the sun and you find your task really enjoyable. Picking strawberries isn't hard, but being crouched down under the bright sun in the afternoon can be tiring.

You extend your arm to collect the strawberries, crouched on the ground. You notice Taehyung walking in your direction by the corner of your eyes, hands in pockets and shiny brown hair bouncing on his head.

You turn your head toward him, watching him a few seconds before resuming your task. He must have finished his work, which was repairing the bathroom sink. You thought he had other things to complete, so you wonder why he's joining you, but you trust he'll be back to it soon.

You hear him approaching, the sound of his boots walking on the grass getting to your ears. You don't acknowledge his presence when he stands by your side, his eyes following each one of your movements. You know he's looking at your body, precisely your breasts and your hips, as he stays silent a little bit longer than usual.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" He says, looking far ahead, observing the wild life that surrounds you before glancing back at you.

You look up, catching him already looking back down. He licks his lips when your eyes connect and he patiently waits for your response, even though he doesn't plan on talking about the weather with you very long.

"It is," you agree, nodding your head. You break eye-contact to look at the fruits instead. You grab one, pulling on it and putting it in your basket.

Taehyung's gaze is insistent, but you don't notice it. You only feel his eyes on you and don't suspect anything. "They've grown so much in so little time," he states, making you smile.

You nod again, appreciating that he's noticed it, you've put so much effort to make them grow into beautiful strawberries. "Yes, they're big and bright red," you mutter, not looking away from the plantations. "They taste wonderful."

You decide to stand up on your legs, stretching them a little bit by the same occasion. Taehyung doesn't respond. He does it often, not saying anything back. You don't really mind it because you know he heard you, he just has nothing to say.

As you're about to change rows since you've reached the end of one, he holds you back by the hips. You squeal, your back being brought to his chest roughly, basket falling from your hand. It hits the ground, some strawberries spilling out from the basket. You look at it, defeated.

His lips trail your neck and you feel the spiky hair above his upper lip stinging your skin. You moan as he devours you, his hungry mouth kissing and biting the meat of your neck, diving down to your collarbones, the farthest he goes.

You're rapidly overwhelmed, still baffled by Taehyung's sudden desire to take you in the strawberry garden. You breathe heavily, throwing your head back against his chest, exposing more of your skin to his burning lips.

He gives you many wet and hot kisses while he pulls on the skirt of your dress, scrunching the fabric between his fists until your panties are revealed. You shiver, the cold breeze hitting your naked legs.

He rapidly sneaks a hand in your underwear and he groans when he touches your hairy pussy, gliding his finger far into your panties to reach your hole. Then he comes back up to your clitoris, circling it immediately.

Heat erupts between your legs, your body naturally reacting to Taehyung's expert fingers playing with your pussy. You look down, seeing a glimpse of his large hand deforming your panties, moving at the pace of his finger on your bud of nerves.

He grinds his crotch against your butt, sensing his hard cock rubbing on you. You feel hot, his kisses and his hand touching your private parts make you delirious, breathing like the air is missing.

He lured you in and you were oblivious again... How he always catches you off guard, you don't know, but it feels better this way. Sometimes it's like that because he has such a high sex drive, so it happens mostly everywhere at any time. He can do whatever he wants to you as he pleases and you let him.

He does quick circular motions on your clit, it takes a bit of time to take you there, but you eventually come close to your orgasm. He doesn't speak, he rarely does anyway. There's only your moans that fill the silence as well as the groans he does when the situation really turns him on.

You like how the veins on his arm show off and how his arm hair shines under the sun. You hold onto him by instinct, your small hand barely fitting around his arm. He's everywhere on you, making it impossible for you to escape his hold, but you don't really think about going away. You feel safe with his arms around you. Safe and taken care of.

When it's not a quick session like this, he's usually more talkative and he takes his time with you. Last night, around twenty-one o'clock, when the sun was slowly disappearing and still illuminating the house, he had set himself between your legs. He'd gotten his head under your night-dress and his mouth on your uncovered core.

You moan loudly and he understands you've just cum, bucking your hips against his hand. He cups your cunt and gently massages it, driving you through your high. He feels your wetness dripping down from your hole and he dips one finger in slightly, bringing it to his mouth to suck on it.

He growls against your ear and you turn your head to watch him, batting your eyelashes to see him clearly. "Hmm, so sweet," he savours you on his tongue, kissing you on the lips after.

Your exchange doesn't last long as he bends you at the waist, pushing down on your back so he has your ass on full display. He yanks your dress over your bottom, exposing it to his insatiable gaze. He's so hungry right now, he could eat you whole. Your ass, your cunt, your breasts, your mouth — everything. But his erection is aching too much.

He slides your panties down your thighs and you have difficulty keeping your balance. You try to reach the tree in front of you, but you only touch it with the tip of your fingers.

"Taehyung," you breathe his name out of your mouth, looking behind you while he's busy sliding the head of his cock through your slicks. You didn't even realize he had taken his erect penis out of his pants.

He penetrates you without saying anything, only gritting his teeth as you let out a small scream that expresses your discomfort. He holds your hips tightly against his cock and goes all the way in without warning you first. You don't expect him to warn you, but sometimes he caresses your back or kisses your neck when it's possible before bottoming out.

It burns a little, your pussy enclosing around him because of your previous orgasm that you still haven't fully recovered from. One of his hands grips your dress bunched up on your back, keeping you up and straight.

He snaps his hips against yours with a lot of force, proving that it's only a quick session in the afternoon, a break from work. The position is not ideal for you and the tree is still too far away for you to lean on. You know he wants to keep it this way and you doubt you'll change, but the groan he lets out tells you otherwise.

"Get down," he commands and you do so. Somehow, he manages to stay inside you, placing his knees on the ground at the same time as you. The hem of your dress remains in his fist as he pulls on it, still pounding into you.

Long minutes ensue where Taehyung fucks you in the strawberry garden, fat tears falling on your cheeks because everything is so intense and pleasurable you can't hold them in.

He grunts above you, snapping his hips against yours until both of your skin become sore and bruised. Your occasional whimpers and moans fill the air, breaking through the complete silence of nature. Birds singing and frogs croaking, sounds you've been accustomed to.

Your days have been silent, peaceful, harmonious, and they will be like this again tomorrow. No electricity, no cars, only the thud of his axe cutting a log into two. The clanking of utensils against plates, the flowing of the bath water on top of your head, the crumpling of your clothes between his fists.

His boots against the floor, his hands on your hips, the sweet nothing he says in your ears, his fingers clasping around your throat, the humming of his deep voice, the bedsheets sliding on your bodies. Those are your days.

You pass a hand between your legs to touch your clit as you feel Taehyung going faster, hips stuttering. He curses under his breath and darts his tongue out to wet his lips, looking where your two bodies connect.

One, two, three hip thrusts until he steadies himself against your ass. He's fast at pulling out of you, stroking his length with his palm until he empties himself on your wet pussy. His hot cum lands between your legs where your hand operates, limbs shaking as your orgasm passes through you.

You moan softly as droplets of cum fall on your cunt, Taehyung letting go of your dress to caress your thighs and hips, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Your hole quivers, clit pulsating at the pace of your heartbeat. You hear him exhaling loudly behind you, catching his breath.

Two fingers pass between your folds, collecting his cum on them. You shudder at the contact, still really sensitive. He presents to you his cum covered fingers, inciting you to open your mouth. You do so and welcome them in, licking his digits clean.

He repeats the process until there's nothing left, feeding you his cum so it's not wasted.

"I'll bring a couple of logs for tonight's fire," he announces and you hum in response. "I'll be back for dinner."

He gets up, watching you struggling to slide your panties up your thighs while he stuffs his soft cock back in his pants. He bends down and swiftly pulls your underwear up your ass, yanking the skirt of your dress down.

"Thank you," you mumble as he leaves to get back to work.

You do the same, arms still shaking and heart still pounding heavily in your chest.

｡:°ஐ

Both laying in bed, his arms embracing you as your back is against his chest, he murmurs in your ear. He strokes your hair, kisses your neck and temple, sings his love to you.

"You were so beautiful today," he compliments, his hands dancing on your body. His touch isn't sexual, rather intimate. Drawing invisible forms on your skin that only you know the meaning of. "As always," he smiles against your hair.

Even though he doesn't mean to engage in any sexual activity tonight, his hands have you a little bit hot. Nothing serious, nothing that has you bothered and whiny like when his tongue explores the area between your thighs.

It's normal, after all, you think. His palms are warm, often coming close to your breasts and pussy, only covered by the thin layer of your night-dress. Taehyung is handsome, has a nice voice and plump lips. Has promised you the world, a family, a home.

Your body is only reacting the way it should and it's up to you — and him — to act on it or not.

He's always horny, but it doesn't mean he can't go to sleep with a semi-hard. The only thing that would prevent him from going to sleep is not having you beside him, against him, around him.

He just needs to touch you. Who would blame a helpless lover for keeping their half with them? For sealing their souls together?

"I love you so much," he whispers, his nightly confession he says every time he shares the bed with you.

You look in front of you, sensing his hot breath on your neck, tickling it gently. "I love you, too," you whisper back, stomach twisting, throat itchy.

He caresses your tummy, his hand almost the size of it. "I want a family with you, honey," he says, using the same tone. He pats your belly in slow circular motions, as if it was already big and swollen. "I want you to be the mother of my children." Another confession that you've been well aware of since the first time you met him.

You don't deny him, you have no desire to. Having his babies is the most beautiful thing he's ever asked you.

At this point, it needs to happen. You want your home to be filled with love. You already hear the high pitched laugh of your daughter and the babbling of your son.

"I'll take good care of you, like I always do," he promises, enclosing you with his strong arms. "I'll be the best dad... And you'll be the best mom ever, I know it." Taehyung affirms, not any lie behind his words.

Your heart is heavy, ready to fall into the pit of the ocean. You wonder why it makes you feel like that, thinking about creating a family with him. Maybe because you've never thought your life would turn like this. Life's always unpredictable.

But the more you imagine yourself having a baby, the less heavy your heart feels. You imagine his life with you and Taehyung as his parents, his first tooth, his first smile, his first laugh, his first steps.

You always knew Taehyung wanted a family, you to be his wife and give birth to his child. The moment has finally arrived, the moment where you both take a decision that will change your life for ever. It's exciting.

You can't help but crack a smile.

"Is that what you want, too?" He asks hesitantly and tightens his embrace, nuzzling your neck. "Honey?" He insists, a little bit worried, but he hopes, he deeply hopes.

You take a moment, not to reflect, just to hear his respiration and the pace of his heartbeat. The night is calm, silent. Except for the usual noises of nature, and you realize that nothing can disturb the little cocoon you've created with Taehyung.

At the end of the day, it's a great life. And you're sure your future baby will like it, too.

"Yes," you finally reply and he is enchanted.

｡:°ஐ

You're preparing dinner, cutting some veggies you'll mix in the soup. You love cooking, it might be your favourite activity. You like seeing the satisfied expression on Taehyung's face when he tastes your food, brows joined together and lips smacking, the flavours making his taste buds extremely happy.

You lift your head up and look through the window above the kitchen counter, expecting to see Taehyung working far away, but he's not there.

It's when you wonder where he is that you hear the back door opening followed by the sound of his feet walking on the wooden floor.

You drop the chopped carrots into the cauldron. You stir the soup a few times before coming back to your cutting board.

You sense his presence behind briefly until his hands grab your hips, making you flinch out of surprise. You look behind your shoulder and you're met with Taehyung's lips, attacking your neck in kisses.

"How are you?" He questions between kisses, pressing his crotch against your ass.

"Good," you smile.

"And the baby?"

This is his new favourite thing to ask ever since your first morning sicknesses. Once in the morning after waking up, once in the afternoon when he comes back home to eat lunch and once at night just before kissing you goodnight.

"Good, too, I think," you reply, laying a hand on your belly. You've barely felt him today, usually he doesn't miss to kick you a couple of times, but you suppose he's taking a little break.

Taehyung hums appreciatively, placing his hand on top of yours. His lips find your cheek to kiss you again, this time softer and less insistent.

He grinds against your ass subtly, just hard enough to create friction. You let go of the knife you were holding, slowly melting in Taehyung's arms. You feel his breath against your neck, heavy and irregular, swallowing as his cock starts to harden in his briefs.

You try to keep a distance between your tummy and the side of the counter, having the habit to be bent over it when he has the desire to fuck you in the kitchen. But now, your belly is way too big for those types of things.

Taehyung might be more fearful than you because he refuses to have sex against the furniture, always on the bed and the couch, or at least a place where you can lay on your back. He sometimes says no to sex, which is so unlikely of him.

What's more difficult for him is to not be able to touch you the way he was used to, but he'll accept anything if it means the baby won't get hurt.

Today, he's very gentle, very attentive. Not that he wasn't the times before, but he's slow and less eager to reach his high. He's savouring instead of devouring and it feels different.

Different, but it still feels like him.

He's animated by other emotions that he's not used to express during sex. He's fucking now and he'll love after, but right now his hip thrusts are appreciative. Grateful to be in you, happy to touch you.

He has to be careful and that changes everything. Sex meant fucking, enjoying the grossness of it as well as the vulgarity and the filth of it. Getting hard at the thought of feeding you his cum, taking you from behind and making you whimper like an injured animal.

He has you pressed against his chest, dress bunched up over your belly, panties still hanging on your thighs. Kisses on your skin still burning hot, hands big and imposing, always keeping you safe in his arms.

The positions are the same, but the sentiments... They are nothing alike.

Sex represents an union, a long-life companionship, a promise between two lonely bodies that have finally found each other. It's the reproduction of new life, a precious life and it's a two-person job.

When you moan, he loves it more than the obscene noises your pussy makes when he pounds his cock forcefully in you. He listens to them, register each one of them as if a secret truth is hiding behind them.

They tell him at what pace his hips should go, how deep he needs to reach and where to hit to gave you an awesome orgasm. He understands them, understands you, and even though he's a good listener, the reason why you're like an open book to him is because you trust him.

You allow him to see every part of you, every part that you've swore you'll never show anyone.

Your meeting was unexpected, to say the least. You'd run through the wheat fields, the sunset far away and him close behind you. You'd nowhere to go, so really, it was useless of you, but you didn't know at the time that Taehyung would be the reason why you'd be still alive today.

You were scared, but he showed you that you had no reason to be with him by your side. He proved it to you and he was right.

'I'll keep you safe, protect you from the world... Just stop moving, honey.'

You stopped moving and let go, giving yourself to him. It was the best choice you've ever made.

He soon empties himself inside of you, groaning into your ear while lazily driving his cock in your pussy to get through his high. His palms are placed on your swollen belly, caressing your smooth skin, fingertips passing over your beautiful stretch marks.

Your cunt quivers around his length, wetness dripping down your thighs. You try to catch your breath as he stays inside of you for as long as he wants to, feeling the roundness of your tummy with his big hands.

He knows that when he'll pull out, his cum will spill out, and he doesn't want it to happen. He doesn't want his mark to leave you, he wants it to stay and breed you like he did before. He has to wait for now and sadly let go, but he knows he'll be in you not long after.

You're both displeased when he pulls out, kissing each other to replace the emptiness you feel. It's only then that you remember your soup in the pot over the open fire, breaking the kiss hastily, hoping dinner is not ruined.

Taehyung grins, watching you panic, when he doesn't mind in what state the food is in. After sharing such an intimate moment with you, nothing else really matters. You're safe and it's all that is important to him.

｡:°ஐ

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts drabble #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader

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reese-tasteslikepepsicola · 9 months

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POST-OUTBREAK!JOEL X FEM!READER

What Joel proposing to you would be like + The married life

Warnings: Not much to be honest, Joel and y/n are so in love, mentions of sex, kissing, marriage, mention of reader being a stay at home wife lol, Joel is turned on when you refer to him as your husband, groping, pure sweetness tbh, oh and reader is implied to be much younger than Joel, fluff!!!

• Joel would have never thought that twenty years into an apocalyptic world he’d find love.

• Then he saw you when he settled down in Jackson.

• You have been together for almost two years, now.

• You both settled down for one another, you moved in with him and Ellie, and you three became like a small family.

• Ellie had expressed her excitement about you finally switching your house for theirs,

“I swear, living alone with that old grump is so boring! I’ll finally have a cool woman in the house”

• Joel was so in love with you.

• He had his brother and sister in law who now had an adorable baby boy who was his nephew, he had Ellie safe, a warm roof over his head, warm water, food on his stomach, and he had you.

• Life couldn’t have been better, but, he soon realized that there was something missing, and that was a ring on your finger.

• He wanted to be able to call you his wife. You were practically a wife to him already with the things you did for your guy’s small family.

• You cook, bake, clean, make the most important decisions for everyone and remain organized and smart, and make sure Ellie, and Joel himself, have food in their stomachs before they leave the house to attend their responsibilities.

• Joel first realized he needed to put a ring on that finger that he was wrapped around was when you hosted a thanksgiving dinner.

• Only close family was invited which really only consisted of Maria, Tommy, and their two-year old baby boy.

• You cooked turkey, a big turkey that you picked up from the small meat store in Jackson, stuffing, mashed carrots and mashed potatoes, and even a pie that Ellie helped you bake the night before.

• Joel was watching you place everything on the table that everyone was sitting at with a big smile on your face and Maria and Tommy chatting and laughing, Ellie trying to get the baby to say her name, and Joel had a weird, warm feeling in his stomach watching it all, and it was not because of the food you made that everyone was ready to devour.

• He then looked at the silver ring on Maria’s finger, and came to the realization that he wanted, no, needed to marry you.

• Joel had it all planned out.

• He was going to make sure you both were alone, and he was going to play your favourite song on the guitar since he knew how much you loved when he did, and he was going to pop the question.

• Tommy and Joel had been on patrol, and it was a very quiet and a not very exciting patrol,

“Where did you get Maria’s ring made?” Tommy whipped his head around so fast Joel was sure his head would fly off,

“Are ya telling me what I think your telling me, big brother?” Tommy had said with a huge grin on his face. Joel sighed and tried to hold back his smile that was fighting its way onto his face,

“Yeah, yeah. I wanna marry y/n. Gotta get a ring first” Tommy patted his brother’s back and shook his head in disbelief,

“I’ll be damned! When are ya gonna pop the question?” Joel and Tommy kept walking,

“I’ll only know when when ya tell me where you got Maria’s ring” Joel was now smiling,

“There’s a small shop in Jackson that molds Jewelry. Man, I’m happy for you”

• When Joel and Tommy got back from patrol that day, they had made their way to the shop together so that Joel could get that ring made, and he picked it up when it was done.

• Joel was feeling slightly nervous about it.

• What if you didn’t want to get married and settle down due to the state of the world? Stupid questions were running through his brain leading up to the night that he was going to do it.

• Joel and Ellie were sitting at the kitchen table, Joel sipping on coffee and Ellie eating left over thanksgiving dinner, and you were currently in the shower.

• His foot had been loudly tapping on the floor nervously as well as his fingers drumming on the table.

• Ellie took notice to that and stared at him with a mischievous look,

“What’s going on with you?” Joel was still so lost in his thoughts that he barely heard her,

“Hey, old man, you hear me?” She said, purposefully louder with a mouthful of food. He snapped out of his thoughts and sighed,

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with your friends, or something?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Ellie rolled her eyes and swallowed her last bite of food,

“Only later tonight and, dude, you never answered my question. What’s got you so loud and fidgety today?” Joel leaned back in his chair and touched the imprint of the ring in his front pocket. He figured that maybe Ellie should know,

“I’m uh—gonna ask y/n to marry me tonight” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Ellie’s eyes widened and so did her mouth,

“Oh shit! No fucking way! Is that why you’ve wanted me out of the house all day?” She was grinning big now,

“Keep your voice down!” Ellie scoffed,

“She can’t hear me from up there! But, man, congrats, Joel” Joel stared at her with a smile,

“Your okay with this, right?” He asked, rubbing a hand on her arm,

“Of course I’am. I feel like—I don’t know—that this can be really good for us, you know? Can be good for you. She makes you less grumpy all the time and she lets me borrow her cool clothes, and her cooking is fucking amazing” Joel chuckled at the last part and nodded along with her,

“Yeah, she does a lot for us” They sat in silence together, both smiling.

• Later on that night, Joel asked if you both could sit on the front porch tonight to relax after a long week.

•You were happy to do so since this always meant that your man would play guitar for you.

• You sat on the swinging love seat together, and you had a blanket draped over you both, mostly over you, with coffees in your guy’s hands.

• Ellie had walked out and said goodbye to you both,

“Your not joining us tonight?” You asked, raising your head from Joel’s shoulder to look at her,

“Oh! I would love to but, nah, gonna hang out with Dina tonight. You both have fun” She sent Joel a wink and skipped off weirdly. You laughed and leaned you head back on his shoulder,

“I’ve never seen her so happy to leave the house before” Joel just nervously laughed with you and rubbed the back of his neck,

“I guess she just really likes Dina” You hummed and closed your eyes, curling up to your boyfriend.

• After about thirty minutes of chatting about the week, along with other stuff, Joel decided that now had to be the time, so he put his coffee down and picked his guitar up from where it was balancing against the porch wall.

• You giggled and wrapped the blanket all the way up to your neck as Joel sat on the chair in front of the swinging love seat.

• He played and sang your favourite song, ‘Cant help falling in love with you’ by Elvis.

• The whole time he did, you stared at him with a dopey, love-sick smile, and he couldn’t help but sillily grin at you when he would occasionally look up.

• fuck, you are both so in love with each other.

• When Joel finished the song, you clapped.

• That’s when Joel took a deep breath and went down on one knee in front of where you were sitting and pulled the shiny ring out of his pocket.

• You heart began to beat rapidly and your blanket covered hand reached to cover your mouth,

“Sweetheart, I’m uh—your one of the best things to happen to me in this fucked up world. Your beautiful and caring, and you make me ‘less grumpy’ according to Ellie—

You laughed through your tears at that part,

“and what I guess I’m trying to say is that I love ya and—will you marry me?”

• You practically dove off the swing to hold Joel and cry, murmuring many quiet yes’s into his ear.

• Joel was now the happiest man.

• You both agreed that there would be no big wedding.

• You guys just wanted a night out at the Bison Bar in Jackson to celebrate.

• That night, Tommy ended up getting shit faced and had loudly announced into the mic on the small stage,

“My old ass brother and his young, foxy ass wife are now officially married! A wedding ain’t a wedding without a bride and groom’s dance!” His words were so slurred you were barely able to make out what he said at first.

• Maria was shaking her head and laughing, apologizing to you and Joel since she knew you both didn’t want it to be a big deal.

• The old Joel would’ve seen red and punched the shit out of his brother, but instead, he laughed hard and grabbed your hand, tilting his head to the wooden dance floor and said “You heard the guy”

• The people in the bar ‘wooped’ and clapped for you both, all of them equally shit faced, too.

• You danced to some old Hank Williams’s song that night, Joel singing the words quietly in your ear, a big grin on both of yours faces.

• Now, let’s skip to a couple of weeks of you both being officially married.

• You are both still very much in your ‘honeymoon’ phase.

• Joel discovered a new kink. A fucking housewife kink.

• He came home from a long day of patrol to see that the house was spotless and the dinner was cooking.

• You weren’t in the house, so he walked to the backyard and saw you washing clothes, a bar of soap in your hand and a pair of pants in the other, scrubbing over the bin of water.

• Your back was facing him and you were swaying your hips and humming to the old music that was playing on the radio you had set on the porch.

• Joel became practically hard at the sight.

• He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and began planting kisses up and down your neck,

“Long day?” He hummed at your question, continuing to plant kisses. You leaned your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, stopping your current task of the laundry,

“Keep doing what your doing, sweetheart. Tell me what you did today” He whispered into your ear, his beard scratching the are below your ear, causing you to whimper and shakily scrub the clothing,

“I m-made the beds and swept th-the floors—

You cut yourself off with a quiet moan when Joel’s big hand came up to squeeze your breast,

“Keep talking, girl” You sighed and did as he said,

“I-I then dusted all the picture frames and went out to town to pick up the food to make y-your favourite dinner to be ready when you got home” Joel groaned at that and grind himself into your bottom, craving friction for his aching hard on. You pushed your butt out, causing him to grunt and grip your breast harder. You dropped the soap and pair of pants into the water, and Joel’s hand went to the zipper of your jeans, about to start to zip them down until the voice of Ellie rang through your ears,

“When’s dinner gonna be ready?!” Joel jumped back from you and you both whipped your heads around to see Ellie standing at the back door. You quickly fixed your hair,

“It should be ready soon! Can you set the table for me, honey!” Ellie just gave a thumbs up.

You grinned up at Joel and kissed his cheek,

“We’ll continue this later, cowboy” Joel annoyingly sighed. Ellie fucking cock blocked him without even knowing,

“I’ll finish these clothes later” Joel gave your butt a smack which made you gasp and smack his shoulder,

“Ew! I fucking saw that!” You heard Ellie yell from inside the house,

“That damn kid is everywhere, I swear” Joel said, grumbling. You laughed and walked ahead of him to the house,

“C’mon, old man”

• If someone were to tell the old Joel that he’d be eating his favourite dinner with his wife and that kid he called “cargo” like a family twenty years into the apocalypse, he would’ve thought you were crazy.

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thevalleyisjolly · 11 months

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There’s something really fascinating about the different ways in which the Hungry One is understood and conceptualized in Calorum. In the Bulbosi Church, it’s characterized as an apocalyptic Satan-figure, the cause of suffering in the world and the thing that will one day come to devour everything just because that’s what it does. Where things really get interesting is in the different sects within and around the Church. Adherants of the Ramsian Doctrine, for example, believe that it is necessary for the Hungry One to devour the world so that the Bulb can triumph over it - and they believe that the Hungry One will not devour the world so long as it contains “junk food.” In a similar manner, the Prophidian Heresy and the FDA believe that the Hungry One will not devour the world if it is full of waste -only the FDA consider waste to be general rot and decay rather than the Candians specifically, misanthropy vs xenophobia GO- and that this is therefore the key to preventing the destruction of the world.

Within the FDA and the Prophidian Heresy, there’s also an intriguing link between body and soul that contradicts mainstream Bulb theology. Whereas most of the Church believes in a rigid delineation between body and soul, that after death, the body returns to the ground and the soul (if it is not damned) goes to the Bulb, the FDA’s plan of filling the world with rot and decay so that the Hungry One will not devour it suggests, quite radically, that the body just as much if not more so than the soul is what the Hungry One devours. Mainstream Bulbians believe the stomach of the Hungry One is Hell for damned souls who do not go to the Bulb - the FDA seems to believe that the state of the material is just as important to the Hungry One as the metaphysical and that large enough volumes of rotting decay (which could also be the moral decay that comes with actions in war, but in this case the FDA themselves have the most rotten souls of all) can keep this Devil-figure from consuming anything, regardless of the state of the soul.

On a different level, with Karna, we find the idea that the Hungry One is not just a powerful over-arching entity but rather something which people can relate to and personally interact with. When Karna kills Sir Drunon and the woman, she takes part of their bodies and burns them “in offering” to the Hungry One. As the audience, we know that Karna is mechanically a warlock of the Hungry One, with the specific subclass of The Great Old One. Combined with the offering, the characterization of the Hungry One is as an active, powerful being who, to some degree, can engage with people personally. Not necessarily in a reciprocal way -you can burn an offering as a sign of respect or acknowledgement without any expectation of receiving something in return- but people like Karna can and do engage with it on an individual and personal level. Given the fact that when she kills, a new rotten spot appears on her body, it suggests that her relationship to the Hungry One does, in some part, go both ways, that there is something on the other side receiving her votives and responding to them.

Also fascinating to observe, when she kills Sir Drunon, she says “We are all eventual food in the maw of the Hungry One,” and immediately thereafter as she kills the woman he’s with, “I’m sorry, but we are all eventual waste.” This presents another perspective on the relationship between the Hungry One and the concept of waste. In contrast to the FDA or the Ramsian Doctrine, which believe that the Hungry One won’t devour the world if it is full of waste or junk, Karna’s statements suggest that the process of dying inherently involves becoming waste - and that the Hungry One will still eat that waste nonetheless.

Then there’s Cumulous and his specific monastic tradition (which is not actually one and the same as the Order of the Spinning Star because it’s stated that there are monks in the Order who draw power from the Bulb; overall, the Order seems to be more an organization of people dedicated to the same goal rather than a religious enclave of people with the same spiritual beliefs). In ACOC, the first thing Cumulous ever says is, “The Hungry One must feed.” It’s an interesting phrasing because there’s a very passive connotation - not “The Hungry One must consume” or “The Hungry One must eat,” but rather the use of the term “feed” suggests a little less agency and purpose. It isn’t going out looking for something to eat, but rather it is feeding on whatever it is given.

Later, Cumulous explains to the party that he does not worship the Hungry One and that it is just a source of power to him. He can tap into it, just like the Bulbosi miracle workers can tap into the Bulb, but it’s not something that has a real consciousness or its own will and he does not interact with it as if it does. Combined with his monk subclass (Long Death), the characterization of the Hungry One is less a supernatural powerful figure but more a manifestation of inevitable death and entropy. Very similarly to Karna’s perspective, it’s going to feed on everything eventually because everyone’s going to die one day. It might be today, if you happen to be a cheese sailor trying to murder your lawful child duchess, but that’s neither here nor there.

And as Lapin realized in his last moments and as he later showed to Liam, this seems to be the closest understanding to the actual nature of the Hungry One which we have encountered so far in either campaign. The Hungry One is just a cosmological ball (add that to the list of significant TTRPG orbs!) and while it certainly contains a lot of power, it doesn’t do anything with it other than eat what is delivered into its mouth. The power and the destruction and the death associated with the Hungry One? All of that has only been wielded or used by living people, for their own aims and agendas.

Anyways, all this to say that while I don’t think it likely to happen, my dream scenario is for a couple FDA members to flee the scene of whatever plan they had that some or all of the Scrumptious Scoundrels have managed to foil, and as they escape, they run straight into a group of Candian monks (aka what they were actually doing during the Ravening War). The last thing they hear, after all their scheming to “save” the world, is “The Hungry One must feed.” And it does.

#dimension 20 #the ravening war #dimension 20 spoilers #the ravening war spoilers #karna solara #cumulous rocks #a crown of candy #long post #can you tell i've been losing my mind over the hungry one lore and calorum cosmology for the past three years?#like the hungry one; i am being FED by all this juicy juicy lore we're getting from the ravening war

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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended.

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not.

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become.

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself.

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green.

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him.

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain.

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really.

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down.

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else.

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes.

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating.

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham.

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking.

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line.

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes.

Danny shivers and walks faster.

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty.

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers.

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park.

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin.

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman.

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say.

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes.

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile.

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate.

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world.

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate.

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers.

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice.

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says.

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding.

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air.

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again.

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke.

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance.

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to.

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten.

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life.

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise.

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the horror of knowing what kind of monster you are capable of becoming paired with the knowledge that your soulmate has suffered bc of you #and reasonably wants you dead/taken out of the picture not just for revenge but for the sake of everyone's safety #but also from duke's pov he's found a teenager wandering into gotham's last refuge. he looks strangely untouched by the end of the world.#hes looking for batman who duke watched die. and then it turns out that hes a younger version of the monster that ruined your life #(and everyone elses life) and realizes that this is who his soulmate once was #and then knowing that he either has to kill this innocent version of his soulmate or let his existence be unwritten #there is no happy ending for post-apoc duke's story #but he and danny get a second chance in a new timeline where things are better #doesnt mean the nightmares ever leave danny lol #thanks for the prompt!!

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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months

Note

I know you've done a game recommendations post about lighthearted solo games, but do you have any suggestions for someone's first solo ttrpg/journaling game?

THEME: First-Time Solo Games!

Hello friend! I sure do have some recommendations! Many of the games I present here are representative of a larger type, so you might be able to find other games within that category by browsing the related tags on itch.io. Most of the games require dice, and many of the games require decks of cards. Other than that, you shouldn’t need anything too fancy or elaborate to play these kinds of games!

The Sky City Charade, by Ashley Morgan’s Games.

Elysia. Midtown. Someone rich was murdered. And you, a private detective from the lowest reaches of Sky City, have been tasked to find out why.

This is a solo journalling game based on the Hints and Hijinx system from Pandion Games. Create a character and navigate through a cyberpunk city stretching into the heavens, dealing with whatever it throws at you.

Using polyhedral dice, a deck of cards, something to journal with, and your own imagination, see if you can bring this case to a satisfying close by actually solving it and finding out who is behind this mysterious crime, and why you were asked to solve it.

Hints and Hijinx games use a pack of cards and a deteriorating dice mechanic to generate a story. In The Sky City Charade, you’ll assign your two highest dice (a d10 and a d12) to two stats: Smarts & Tough. Every roll you make in an effort to find a clue has a chance of giving you what you’re looking for, but also a chance of making future rolls harder. The game is divided into three phases: Setup, Investigation, and Closure. You’ll spend most of your time in the Investigation phase, visiting locations and drawing cards to determine what kind of complications arise in your efforts to solve the mystery.

What I like about this kind of game is the structure. There’s clear instructions for each section of play, and the deteriorating dice mechanic ensures that you both think carefully about when to look for clues and also finish play within a reasonable time frame. I also enjoy the thoughtful world building that went into the location creation for this game; the author knows what kind of world they want to present you with, and they deliver.

If you want more games of this system, I’d recommend checking out the Hints and Hijinx Jam!

Beast at Bay, by Ive Sorocuk.

You arrive back in your hometown.The journey was long.You have little memory of it but you do recall being attacked by some form of beast. A beast you can still feel deep within you, wanting to get out.

Beast at Bay is a solo rpg/journaling game that uses the Second Guess System. It’s a pretty simple game, only one page long, with a Humanity tracker and a list of 20 prompts. You roll a d20 and answer a question from the prompt list, adjusting the Humanity tracker as needed.

The Second Guess System thrives on re-rolls, and frames rolling the same prompt twice as a chance to examine your character’s uncertainty - was their original answer truly what was going on, or is there something hidden, possibly even from themself? In Beast at Bay, every time you must re-examine a question, you will need to roll a d6 to determine whether you lose Humanity. The game ends when you either reach 6 or fall to 0. If you like quick-to-read games that can be played in approximately 30 minutes, then I’d recommend checking out this game.

You can find other Second Guess Games in the Second Guess Jam!

Weeds in the Waste, by Meghan Cross.

Weeds in the Waste is a solo storytelling game about tending a garden in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Determine the state of your wasteland, create your gardener, plant your seeds, and tend your garden as you play through the seasons in the wastes. It is a narrative, storytelling game played using 2d6s and a 6x6 grid, as well as a series of prompts.

Grid-based games give you visual references that can help you visualize what is going on in your game world. They also give you a chance to strategize a little bit, especially if the dice you’re rolling will affect the map, like in this game. Despite the fact that this game happens in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, I still feel like some part of it is a cozy game. You’re not saving the world or fighting your inner darkness in Weeds in the Waste; you’re growing plants and striving to make your garden a place of hope. Much of the prompts provided are aimed at building up the world around you, whether that be weather events, celebrations, or the kinds of plants you are attempting to grow.

If you like games with lower stakes and visual references, I recommend this game. If you want other grid-based games with different themes, I’d recommend Wonderfall, by Catscratcher Studio, and Exclusion Zone Botanist, by Exuent Press.

Anamnesis, by Sam Leigh, Blinking Birch Games.

Anamnesis is a 24-page solo journaling RPG about self-discovery, reflection, and identity.

You play as an individual who has woken up with memory loss. You do not remember who you are, where you are, or what you care about. As you draw tarot cards, you fill the blank spaces of your past and learn more about your present. All that is needed to play is a deck of tarot cards and a way to record your thoughts.

Explore your character’s backstory through five acts, divided up using the four suits and major arcana of a tarot deck. This game is highly interpretive, giving you prompts to answer but depending upon your interpretation of tarot cards in order to determine the kinds of details that you’ll end up filling out. The fact that it uses a tarot deck may be it’s biggest obstacle if you don’t already own a tarot deck, but if you do own a tarot deck you’ll likely already have some experience when it comes to interpreting the cards, and so I don’t know if the openness of interpretation is that much of a hurdle when it comes to playing this game.

What I do know is that Anamnesis has won several awards, and is pretty well-known in the gaming scene. There’s both digital and physical copies, and the creator offers both discounted damaged copies as well as community copies pretty regularly. There’s also an Anamnesis Jam with many other Anamnesis - inspired games for you to check out!

The Sealed Library, by Sealed Library.

The Sealed Library is a solo journaling RPG played with a deck of cards, a tumbling block tower and a notebook/scroll.

You are the sole surviving librarian of the greatest library in history. It sits in the centre of culture for an ancient land, now fallen to invaders. They pillage and raze.

The library has been barricaded and you are under siege. What important texts can you move down into the vaults and seal away forever before the barricade breaks? What will future generations discover inside the Sealed Library?

Wretched & Alone games such as this one usually recommend a Jenga tower but I’ve found them very playable without one. All you really need is a deck of cads, a six-sided dice, and some tokens, which can be anything (I use poker chips). Personally, I think the biggest con is the tone of the games - most Wretched & Alone games are meant to be tragic or horrific. For example, in The Sealed Library, you are a librarian trying to save as much of the library as possible before invaders knock down the doors and kill you, or before you die of starvation.

These games divide events in between four categories, to match the four suits of cards. In this game, these suits represent saved books, new discoveries, invader events and dwindling resources. If the tumbling tower falls, you die. If you draw all four Kings, you die. There are a few ways for your character to escape alive, but the chances of drawing the right cards in the right order are low. What I appreciate about this game is that it includes a debrief section, allowing you to process the story you have just told yourself. If you’re interested in playing out a story that may pull you into a tragedy however, games like this one may suit you.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Untitled Moth Game, by S. Kaiya J.

Osteozee, by Psychound.

Global Dragon Egg Conservation, by KuumatheBronze.

Games from the Solo But Not Alone Bundle.

#solo games #game recommendations #asks #dnd #indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #The Sealed Library is the first solo game I played

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 11 months

Text

Unsteady

Paring: Miguel O'Hara x Nurse!Reader

Summary: It's barely been a week since the movie came out and I hate myself. Enjoy a miguel smut everyone

Warnings: smut; vaginal fingering; slight blood (typical nurse shit); language; not proof-read; almost added some Spanish phrases because it's hot but my white ass would've easily botched that shit

Word Count: 1.8k

'When it comes to a snack-pack I can't lie'

"I wanna ride." You hummed along with the song, voice rising slightly higher to match the background singers. "Ride."

The speaker echoed throughout the room, disrupted only by the slight pitter-patter of medications falling into their correct places with each passing minute.

Organization had always been moderately calming to you, but it definitely helped to have music in the background, turning what some would call monotonous chore into a mindless state of productiveness.

Of course, this was also quite effective at stealing your attention.

The satisfaction of each pill finding its proper section had apparently replaced your spatial awareness, along with the realization that someone was standing in your door.

"Where's the doctor?"

“Shit!” You jumped, surprised at the unexpected voice. The nerves got even worse as you spun on your heels, meeting the stone-cold gaze of none other than Miguel O'Hara.

"Sorry, but he's not in right- " You fiddled with the speaker, finally managing to pause the music that suddenly seemed much too loud before clearing your throat and turning to face him again. "Oh, shit! What happened?!"

Considering the infinite possibility of universes, it really shouldn't have been all that shocking that this one was home to an arachnid-themed physician.

But for someone living in a spider society, you definitely couldn't identify as a spider-man, woman, or any other unworldly alternative that managed to find its way in your path.

You were, in essence, a completely normal person, a little factoid that didn't aid your constant surprise at all the different webby variants that this place had to offer.

It had all started a few months ago when your world cracked apart.

What many could describe as a boorishly typical day quickly turned into cosmic devastation. You couldn't even remember when the hole opened up, swallowing your home and all the people with it into its murky abyss.

Horrifying was an understatement.

In the midst of this chaos, in all the screaming and tears and crumbling buildings that you had once shopped or stayed in, your line of sight caught wind of a large, bright light.

People were running from both it and the blackness, terrified of whatever supernaturally apocalyptic entity that had come to wreak havoc on their lives.

Still, this bright alternative seemed vastly more inviting than the inky chasm fracturing main street.

So, pushing away the common sense in turn for the human instinct to avoid certain death, you had jumped.

Obviously, when you had leaped into the unspecified glowing hole, you hadn't been expected this.

But fear had quickly been replaced with relieved gratitude when your new comrades hadn't thrown you back into your quickly vanishing world, but allowed you to stay.

Over time, you had acclimated to their society, even picking up a nursing assistant position under their own spider-medic.

Regardless, you found yourself constantly nervous around most of these people, despite their usual friendliness.

It also didn't help that you were simultaneously terrified and attracted to your current boss.

Your boss who was standing in the doorway with a large gash above his elbow and a stream of blood leaking down his arm.

"Did you get stabbed?"

"I'm fine."

The statement wasn't exactly surprising.

Miguel was a closed-off person, even if that meant patching up the non-lethal injuries by himself. Despite the constant abundance of danger the man put himself in, he didn't visit your office often.

Still, you took hold of his free arm and dragged him towards the medical bed. "Uh, no offense, but then why are you here?"

You watched his jaw harden slightly, eyebrows furrowing in what you quickly recognized to be agitation. "Byte locked me out of the computer system and wouldn't let me back in unless I came here."

Spider-byte, or Margo, was one of the most technologically skillful individuals here, and someone you would consider to be your closest friend at the moment.

Somehow, she had been able to pry out your attraction to the organization's leader.

According to her, she was under the impression that Miguel was fond of you, but you honestly couldn't think of any other reason for his lessened hostility besides that fact that you were one of the only people here without superpowers.

But if it was pity-masked by his tolerance, it wasn't hard for you to become increasingly attached to him over time, a fact that someone as perceptive as Margo was easily able to pick up on.

And seeing as she knew both Spider-medic's and your schedule, it wouldn't exactly surprise you if she chose today, specifically at 3:37 in the afternoon, to nag Miguel about the importance of medical care done by a professional.

"So... what happened?" You twisted the cap off the bottle of saline solution and allowed it to fall over a cloth. "The usual, I'm guessing?"

"Basically," he nodded, barely moving when you gently cleaned his wound. His left sleeve had been cut away, leaving his entire bicep exposed.

While this made for a quick job...

Oh, fuck

Swallowing, you tossed the cloth to the side, reaching for the roll of gauze and keeping your eyes to the floor.

Shit, his thighs are ginormous.

They caged your own in from the sides, leaving it almost impossible to ignore the heat of his gaze burning into your skin. The warmth of his own tickled the tips of your fingers as you wrapped the newly cleaned wound.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" You looked up, almost physically recoiling when you realized how close your face was to his.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're nervous."

Scrunching your expression, you quickly took note of how fast your heart was beating against your ribs. "I thought you didn't have that weird, spider-sense thing."

"I don't." Miguel grabbed your wrist, barely leaving his wound properly secured. "Your hands are shaking."

Blinking in surprise, you shifted your gaze to your arm. It was small, but there were ripples of tremers coursing through the creases on your fingers.

The unsteadiness was unconscious, unaffected by the strength of your mental begging.

"Do I make you nervous?" A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and you could've sworn that you were moments away from going into cardiac arrest.

"I... uh..."

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" The hand not gripping yours pushed a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. "Having trouble concentrating?"

He leaned forward slightly, warmth of his breath tickling the edge of your chin before he quickly moved back. His movements came to a sharp pause, a serious expression overcoming his features. "Do you want me to stop?

Your answer was almost immediate. "No."

"Good girl." His words sent an unconscious shiver down your spine, earning you a low chuckle. "Do you like it when I call you that?"

I'm gonna combust.

"So shy," Miguel clicked his tongue, running his thumb over your lip as the rest of his fingers forced your chin upward to meet his gaze. "Answer, princess."

Backing away, he slid his arms under your thighs and pulled you upward so you were straddling his.

You swallowed, watching his hands slip under the fabric of your coat, snaking around your bare waist. "Yes."

Red irises burned into yours, only beginning to match the intensity in his expression. "Any other appointments today?" His fingers toyed with the top of your jeans.

"No," your breath hitched. "But you spider-people always manage to get yourself into deep shit."

He drew forward, pressing his lips against your neck as his touch traveled under your waistline. "I'll make this quick then."

The feeling of his mouth sucking on your collarbone sent warmth sparking into your abdomen, the heat only growing as his thumb grazed over your clit.

"I think it's cute." He grinned, canines threatening to break the tender skin. "How nervous you get around me. I was guessing that you were either terrified of me or wanted me to fuck you."

You groaned when two of his fingers pushed into you, slowly pressing against your core in a way that had you turning to putty in his arms. "Both, probably."

He chuckled, continuing to trail his kisses over your skin, taking a moment to swallow the soft moans falling from your lips in his.

A part of you wondered if the door was properly locked, if the shades were completely shut, or if the room was soundproof. But every ounce of common sense seemed to leak out of you with each stroke of his thumb over your clit, each squeeze that he gave your thigh with his free hand.

And then the phone rang.

Panicking, you turned around, shaking hand reaching for the receiver. Miguel took your wrist into his free arm, pulling you back into him.

"It's okay, princess." He pressed down on your clit, pulling a cry from your lips. "You're almost there."

He was right.

Each thrust of his fingers into your core sent your mind further into a blissful haze, the subtle shaking of your thighs over his going unnoticed. It was only a moment later that he had you coming undone around his hands.

You took a few seconds, head resting on his chest as he slowly took you down from your high. It was odd how warm he felt, a large contrast to what many would describe as a cold demeanor.

The heat made you want to stay there forever, the only thing yanking you out of your pleasured mindlessness the incessant ringing of the device three feet away from you.

"Hello?" You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the falter lacing your tone. "This is, uh, the spider... doctor office?"

The sound of your name echoed through the phone and you immediately recognized the voice of your current mentor. "Sorry again about leaving you alone for the day, hun. I just wanted to check and see if everything was okay back at the office."

"Oh, I'm fine! Take as long as you need!" You heard a line of praises coming through, but they barely registered in your mind. "Gotta go, kay, bye!"

With a breath, you set the device down in relief, barely recognizing the soft smirk gracing Miguel's lips.

"So... how’s your arm?"

Miguel laughed, a sound that was completely foreign to you, and the rest of the organization, probably.

"Fine." The limb in question slipped around your waist, pressing your body further into his. "But Byte told me that if I didn't ask you out then she'd add a matching scar to my other one."

You grimaced in embarrassment, the feeling slowly fading away as he laced a gentle hand through your hair, more affection that you had seen from the man in your entire time here.

"Of course she did."

#spider man 2099 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #into the spider verse

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fruispunk · 9 months

Text

Nightmares / Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader genre: fluff/smut word count: 6544 premise: you've taken up a new job in the QZ but the after affects have you riddled with nightmares. when joel miller, your long-time neighbor, friend, and colleague, hears sounds from your room adjacent to his own, his overthinking mind sends him into a jealous spiral. warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, soft joel is v love drunk, descriptions of dead bodies, mentions of death of children, casual ignorance of addressing trauma, the usual apocalyptical nonsense.

read on AO3

a/n: this is my first time writing joel so hopefully its not OOC please be kind, I appreciate any feedback! I know it isn't the most original concept but I just wanted to feel out writing for him. expect lots more pedro-centric fics on the way too :) ~

You bolted up right, sheets thrown off of you and a ragged breathe dragged its way desperately into your lungs. Your face was tear stained, your skin glistening with a sheen of stress induced sweat. Another bad dream had infiltrated your mind, disturbing what little rest you managed to find. This was the third time this week you had to rub your wet eyes, take some deep breathes and throw your head back down into your pillow in annoyance. Sleep would evade you once again.

Living in the Boston QZ was not necessarily the easiest life, but a lot of the time it beat living in fear, running from those things outside the walls. Or, it had done, until now. Until you took on a much more harrowing job. It paid more, sure, but it left your body aching and exhausted, and your mind in a state of unfathomable unease. It wasn't like burning bodies was anyone's dream job, but it was a job that had to be done, and one with sore consequences on your conscience.

Not that you were weak, but it wasn't like you could pick up the dead weight of a fully grown man and toss him onto the fire single handedly. So that left you with the smaller of bodies. The young women. The children. It was impossible to live in this world without seeing bloodshed, without being tormented by memories of lost loves ones, haunted by actions you wished you could take back or things you wished you'd done quicker. Everyone was plagued with something. Whether you were infected or not. That didn't make doing what you had to do any easier. Holding the limb body of a lifeless child could pain even the darkest of souls.

And that's what had been keeping you up. You'd seen family and friends succumb to disease. You'd seen people torn apart. You had slaughtered and killed and hacked away at plenty in your life - that is what surviving in this world cost. But seeing the piles of small nameless bodies stacked carelessly in the back of a van, dumped in silence into a fire they shared with so many you couldn't count. It hurt. Deeply. Death was not discriminatory to who she claimed as her own - taking too those who had barely started a life of their own. They didn't deserve this. They deserved a life of freedom. A life where they could be children. Where they could play, laugh. A life where when they died at an old age they would leave this world surrounding by people who loved them, who knew their name, who knew their life.

God, if you could only settle your head as easy as you overthought. You knew you could not always afford to be so sensitive or surrender to those innate emotional impulses you had in public. It was dangerous to been seen as weak. So you buried them inside and evidently, when your subconscious mind was allowed a little bit of freedom, all of those unaddressed issues and thoughts and worries poured out of you untameably.

When you left your assigned apartment (if you could call it that) in the morning, Joel was just locking his door. You weren't unaccustomed to the looks he gave you, and you looked forward to greeting him each morning, but the past week he had been rather... off. Distant. Not that Joel was particularly easy to get close to, or that you were extremely close anyway, but the daily nods of greeting as you worked had ceased. The offering of water on your work breaks or knocking on your door to offer leftover wine had stopped too, and casual conversation was no more. You were perplexed as to why. You thought of Joel as a friend, a strikingly good looking, strong, protective one that you harbored a little crush on. You'd be lying to yourself if you weren't feeling a little hurt by his distance.

"Morning," You offered, failing to fight back a yawn. Joel used to tease you when you were sleepy - scold you and tell you to get more rest. He was rarely ever too soft in his words, but you knew they came from a place of care. This morning he simply gave you a grunt in response. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just had a long night too?

As you both made your way out of the building and towards your shared work area for the morning you failed again to rid yourself of your yawn and Joel shot you a glare.

"Not sleep well?" He asked, but there was a striking lack of the usual care in his voice. It was more accusatory.

"Not one bit." You said casually, a little confused by his tone.

"Right." He said, bluntly. He didn't even give you the opportunity to ask what was wrong. He'd already got to work, storming off ahead of you. If you had the energy, and if the FEDRA soldiers scattered all over the QZ weren't watching the place like hawks you might have shouted at him, asked him what his problem was. Instead you sighed. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood for conversation right now?

Work dragged by as usual. Sometimes you felt a little outside of your own body when you worked, your mind checking out when the flames of the fire claimed another of the bodies - the smell of rotten burning flesh making your mind spin and your stomach churn. Ash clung to your hair and the fibers of your clothes. With your hands on your thighs, exhausted, you took a moment to catch your breath. Joel looked at you, and even through the protective goggles and mask you could see his unimpressed face.

"Tired. Sorry."

"Yeah," He said coldly, shooting back, "You're not the only one."

You stood a little dumbfounded at the harshness of his words. This wasn't a throw away comment relating to your struggle. It was angry. He never spoke to you like that. Not with such venom. Never.

You stood, eye to eye, sharing nothing but fumes bouncing from the top of each others heads. Before you even got the chance to say anything back you were being told off by a supervisor. 'No breaks without your pay being docked! Talking can wait! If talking is what Joel even wants to do.'

Joel kicked himself for that, and avoided looking at you for the rest of the working day, which he found much harder than he liked to admit. Looking to you was a brief solace for him on days when he had to burn bodies to feed himself. He had been happy to know you were going to work alongside him. Spend more time with him. You were like a light, warm and inviting, beckoning him in, and like a stupid little moth he spent most of his days drifting off towards you. Now, though, when he looked at you he wasn't filled with that calming enjoyable feeling spreading warm throughout his chest, he was filled instead with a deep gut flipping rage that made him feel sick.

It wasn't his fault. He couldn't help feeling the way he did. Not when you smiled at him more gently than he thought he deserved. Not when your eyes shined a little brighter as you greeted him than they did when greeting anyone else. And of course now he felt guilty because he had started taking his issues out on you. You couldn't help being so kind and sweet to him. He knew you were oblivious to his feelings for you because of course he wasn't very obvious at showing them. It wasn't your fault that he was overcome with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. You were entitled to that - a grown women that he wasn't going to stop from making her own choices. It didn't mean he would be happy about it though.

He was angry at himself more than anything because, how had this happened? Most men kept their hands and eyes off you and their words to themselves anytime Joel gave them a warning look. He, be it intentionally or not, had an unspoken claim on you. So how, when his eyes were expertly trained on you at most times, had you found this lover you had taken up this past week?

Usually when you would finish your shift, you and Joel would wait for one another to hand in your time sheets and you'd walk back home together. Today however Joel stormed home, too angry to have a rational conversation with you which wouldn't end in him confessing how he felt or making a fool out of himself in public. You were disheartened to see him avoid your stare, which followed his broad shoulders and greying hair all the way down whatever street he had stormed off down until he rounded a corner and he was gone from your sight. The sigh that escaped you when you received your measly food tokens was for once not from the lack of good pay.

When the sky starts to darken and he knows you've made it home by the sounds of your keys jangling open your old rusted door lock he puts his head in his hands. He was practically doing this to himself. He knows he shouldn't. He knows he really really shouldn't. But he cant help himself. He sits up, waiting for you. Listening. Being as quiet as he can to hear for any distinguishable voice to identify your mysterious midnight caller. Nothing comes. No sneaking creek of your front door. No hushed voices. Nothing. Nothing but you that is. Nothing but your noises.

Small whines and gasps leave your lips and tumble into the room around you, echoing in the almost empty room and filtering through any old rotting walls that kept you and Joel from each other. It was driving him insane. To hear you like that. To imagine you writhing against someone else. Seeking pleasure from the hands he did not possess. It burned up in him. He hated that it made him half hard to imagine you bare against his own bed, under his own body.

It was a bad one tonight. A really bad one. Images of all the children you had burned came to you as you slept. Every single one. Their faces unrecognizable against the flames melting their flesh away. They came at you fast. They cried and they screamed and they begged and you did the same in return. You were shaking when you woke. Your mouth dry, your hair stuck to your forehead. You couldn't get back to sleep now. There was no point in trying.

The same as every night for Joel, your noises came to an abrupt stop. And the same as every night Joel had to restrain himself from going over, fists clenched until his knuckles were bright white. But this night, instead of the noises completely stopping, he hears your soft foot steps pat across the floor. In the deathly quiet he hears the smash of broken glass against your hard wood floor, and then, the recognisable heart wrenching sounds of your soft cries.

And he's up then. Without even thinking about it, he's flinging his apartment door open and banging his hand against your door. Hurried and panicked and immediately ready to do what had to be done to protect you! The five seconds from the minute he slammed his fist against your door to you opening it felt like an eternity to him. Where you alright? What had happened? Had your mystery lover hurt you? Do I have to break this door down?

Your heart felt like it jumped out your body when the banging came from your door. You stepped around the glass of water you had accidentally dropped and took your still shaking legs to your front door. You were thankful to see it was Joel through your peephole and not a FEDRA soldier.

The second you unlocked the door he flew into your place, eyes scanning all over the room.

"Where is he!" He almost shouts, without looking at you.

"What do you mean where is he?" You asked confused, "Where is who?"

"Your friend! You know who!" Joel spat at you.

"What are you talking about Joel? There isn't anyone here!" You raised your voice a little at him. He looked at you then. The fury in his eyes dying down as he saw your expression. You looked exhausted, upset. Tears wet your eyes and your cheeks were flushed. He saw the glass then on the floor in a small puddle of water. To your surprise he was looking just as confused as you were.

You noticed him look to the shattered glass, "I just...I just dropped a glass and it just, shocked me a little...I'm just tired."

"Of what?" He said, still a little mad, unsure of the situation he had walked in on.

"Are you angry at me right now?" You asked, a little fed up of his attitude, "Because...if you are I really can't do this right now. I've not been sleeping and-"

"Yeah I've heard." Joel replied flatly, trying to ignore how beautiful and inviting you looked in your little night dress.

"You...you've heard me?" You asked, quietly.

"Yes."

"Oh Joel, I'm so sorry..." You were bright red in an instant, and feeling incredibly guilty. 'Was this why he was so angry? Have I been keeping him up?' "I had no idea I was being so loud. My nightmares, they're really...they're really awful right now. I think its the new job or something..."

Now it was Joel's turn to feel embarrassed, "Wait, did you say nightmares?"

"Y-Yeah. They're like night terrors, or something. I didn't know the walls were so thin. If I had known I'd of slept at the other end of the room. I'm sorry Joel, I didn't mean to wake you." You were so apologetic and it made him want to die inside a little bit. Another wave of guilt washed over him. In his possessive depravity he had only your pleasure on his mind. It didn't even occur to him once that you might be struggling.

He sighed, and finally closed the door to your apartment. You silently wondered what the other neighbors were thinking. You bit your lip a little awkwardly as he sat down at the wobbly stool in your kitchen and put his head in his hands.

"God I'm so stupid."

"What?" You asked gently, stepping closer to him a little, "No you're not. Why do you say that?"

He shakes his head a little and chuckles lowly, "Honey, I thought..." he takes a breath and tries his best to not avoid your looks at him, "I thought this whole time you had someone over here...making you make them noises you were making."

Your mind goes a little blank for a second, and you stand dumbfounded, lips parted a little in surprise. And then his words hit you like a tonne of bricks, and they're heavier than any body you had picked up that day or any day previous. You laughed a little then, covering your mouth with your hands, "No! Oh my god no!"

"Hey! Don't you laugh at me." He laughs back a little, loving hearing these sounds. Even if they were at his expense, he could not help but think of the comparison to the ones he had been hearing before. He much preferred these.

"I'm not, I'm not." You denied playfully.

"You are." He looks away from you and to his feet. You stop laughing but you smile at him softly.

"Joel?" You ask, and he looks to you instantly with those big brown puppy dog eyes and you feel like you might melt, "Where you mad because I was waking you up or where you mad because you thought I had a man in here?"

"You're not dumb."

"I'm not." You nod with a smirk, "Still want to hear you to say it though."

The look he gives you is more intense than you feel you've ever shared. You feel like your heart is in your throat.

"Course you do," He fails to hide a little smirk of his own, "It wasn't because you were waking me up."

"No?"

"No."

The room was silent. You were stood, staring at each other, much too far away for your liking. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Waiting. Wondering.

"I was driving myself insane," Joel says then, "thinking about you with someone else. Thinking about someone else's hands on you."

Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you thought Joel might be able to hear it.

"You really think I'd have just anyone in here?" You teased him.

He raised his eyebrows a little, "You're a grown woman you can do what you like. Who you like. I can't stop you."

"We both know that's not true."

You watched how his eyes got a little darker then as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling in time with his deep nose exhales. He looked like he was ready to eat you. Perhaps in his head he was. He had a problem with possessiveness. 'Did she know this whole time?'

"Do you have a problem with that?"

You let his words settle before you ventured to step a little closer to him, "You're not dumb." You echoed Joel's earlier words.

"Still wanna hear you say it." He teased you back with repeating your own, his words meeting a smirk so handsome you thought you might pass out - you smiled at him. Content. You were both bad at feelings. You struggling to admit how strongly you both felt for one another with words. This moment right here felt like the closest you would get to ever being upfront about how deeply you both felt.

"Joel," The hum of his name on your lips had him reeling. You closed the gap between you both, standing on two feet in front of him as he still sat in your rickety old kitchen chair. You brushed your fingers through the sides of his hair delicately, caressing the side of his stubble kissed face. He leaned into your touch, an arm resting loosely at your waist, the feeling of the pads of your fingers sending goosebumps up and down his body. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. It was the most vulnerable you had ever saw him look. So love drunk. Your heart melted, "Joel I don't want anyone else. You know that right?"

"Well, you have me if you want me that badly, darlin'" He teased you, smiling as he felt you fake shove his chest a little in protest, "Wouldn't let anybody else have you anyway."

"Wouldn't have guessed by the way you nearly took my door off the hinges."

"Almost did it two nights ago when I heard you making those little noises."

"Hindsight Miller."

He laughed heartily at that.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," He said, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "If I'd of known you were upset I wouldn't have been so harsh on you. Shouldn't have been harsh on you anyway for that matter."

"It's alright. If I'm being honest, I kinda like the thought of you all worked up over me."

"You wanna quit talkin' before you start something you can't stop." He looked over you with that intense dark gaze in his eyes again.

"You think I'd wanna stop?" You challenge despite your heart being in your throat. When he didn't reply you ventured to push him a little further, "Are you going to stay the night or do I have to beg?"

He gave you a chuckle through half lidded eyes, "Guess you're gunna have to get on your knees then."

"Oh look who's got jokes," the banter you shared was not uncommon, but this had been the most flirtatious. The most open about your now clearly mutual feelings, "So that's the stuff you're into huh?"

"You got no idea."

"You're right, I don't," You chuckled at him, watching as he stood from his seat so he was looking down at you now, "Why don't you show me?"

"You're playing with fire, you know that?" The hand still wrapped around your waist pulled you into him then, his other hand caressing your face.

"Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

He didn't have to be told twice - his lips met yours, more gently at first than you had thought he would do. Almost like he was still unsure. You could feel the pair of you smiling. And then his hand had moved from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close so you didn't know where your body stopped and his began. And you weren't smiling anymore. Panting, clutching at his shirt with your hand like you couldn't ever bare to let go. Terrified if you did he'd be gone. Your lips never parted, your tongues slipping past each others mouths, tasting one another with a hunger neither one of you had satisfied for a long time.

He grabbed your face in both hands, moving you so his mouth could more easily place kisses across your jaw and onto your neck. The feel of his beard scratching you gently, the light nips of his teeth as he sucked gently against your neck and the low grunts into your ear had a soft whine escape your mouth. A real one. One he had caused. Joel couldn't think of a time he had gotten that hard that quickly in his entire lifetime - your sounds were like honey. Delectable. And he devoured them, tongue in your mouth, desperate for more.

His hands grabbed at your ass then, his fingers delicately tickling their way underneath your night dress to knead at your ass.

His lips parted yours, panting and breathless. His forehead was pressed against yours, your noses touching still, "Jump for me." He said.

"Not with your back." You tormented.

"Shut up," He scolded you, but with a tone that was far from menacing, "Jump."

You did as you were told with a chuckle, putting your hands to his broad shoulders to steady yourself as you jumped. He expertly wrapped your legs around his waist and walked you over to your bed. Joel was silently thankful that your bed wasn't too far because realistically his back did hurt - he didn't even feel embarrassed for the way in which your words, how they proved to care for him, had the corners of his mouth turning up. He hadn't felt this feeling he had for you for a long while. So long it felt foreign to him; he welcomed it.

He just about tossed you onto the bed then, immediately leaning over you as you let out an excited laugh. Your night dress had rode up so your upper legs and underwear was exposed to him. The guttural noise he made at the sight made your head spin. His mouth was on yours again and his hands grabbing at your thighs, the feel of his fingers on your exposed skin making him even harder than he thought he ever could be. You wined at the strength of the grip he had on you and he let go a little, a little panic in his eyes as he looked you over. He was uncharacteristically nervous - trying so hard not to ruin this with you after wanting it for so bad for so long.

"What's wrong?" You ask, your hands coming to stroke his upper arms.

"Don't wanna hurt ya."

You touched his face sweetly, and kissed his cheek, understanding his apprehension. It had been a while for you too. "You won't break me Joel."

"I might."

"Why don't you show me how you do that as well then?"

He groaned a little at your words, his forehead pressing into yours.

"You're killing me, you know that?" He sighed, "Don't wanna be too much too soon...don't wanna scare you off."

"You could never scare me off. Ever." You said, he avoided your eyes a little, so you continued, thinking he maybe needed reassurance to let loose a little more, "Joel. I want you. I want this. I've always wanted this."

That seemed to do the trick with him. His hands were under your dress then, feeling the curves of your waist, cupping your breast, running the pad thumb over your nipple. The feeling of his hands on you had you whining softly again for him.

"You gunna take this off or do I gotta rip it off?" He growled at you, his hands and eyes desperate for more.

You thought you'd never moved so quickly in all your life. The nightdress pulled over your head and thrown to the floor, Joel's shirt joined it and your lips were locked once again. You were under him, in only underwear, exposed to him under the dim light of your apartment. You felt like you were in a dream with the way he kept looking at you - drinking you in.

"Don't know how long I've waited for this," He said breathlessly, pinning your arms expertly above your head, "Waited to touch you."

You whined in protest a little, desperate to touch him as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing, licking, sucking expertly. A moan left you then, followed by a whine of his name.

"What's the matter sweetheart? You want me to touch you?"

"I wanna touch you."

"You can wait your turn," he chuckled, continuing his assault on your breasts, "Wanna make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you."

You bit your lip at his words and watched him as he released your hands and kissed his way down your body. He admittedly would not normally take such a long time with this, but he'd been wanting you like this for so long he wanted to make sure he lasted. Make sure you were satisfied. You were practically dripping for him by the time his head found his way between your thighs.

He lifted your legs, pulling your panties away from you and exposing your wet heat to him. He groaned, his hands stopping you from closing your thighs together shyly.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He said, enjoying how fast your face went red. You tried to close your legs again, but Joel gripped them hard, "You gunna be a good girl and keep em open for me?"

You nodded, completely unable to form words at the prospect of Joel Miller saying these positively sinful things to you. You were so caught up in his words that the feeling of his tongue licking a stripe from your hole to your clit made you gasp. You watched him as he licked and sucked at you, slowly teasing your clit in circles with his tongue, then sucking the bud and then going back to licking. You threw your head back into the pillow, overwhelmed by how quickly you thought he was going to make you cum, your orgasm already building tight in your stomach.

He couldn't get enough of you, the moans and grunts of his own vibrating against your sex. The taste of you. You couldn't help yourself then - you were a writhing mess beneath him, grinding your hips into his face with your fingers threading through his hair. You slapped one of your hands to your mouth to choke back a moan, and suddenly Joel was pulling away, one of his hands slapping gently at your arm.

"Wanna hear you baby," He said as whined from the lack of contact. He pressed a thumb to your clit but didn't move it, "don't go shy on me now, wanna hear how much you like me tongue fucking your little pussy."

"Oh God," you moaned, his dirty words getting you off.

"Atta girl."

He began moving his thumb in slow circles around your clit, moving his index and middle to slide through your folds. The slick sound they made as they glistened against his finger had him leaking precum onto himself. He slid a thick finger into you and you moaned. He added another an you moaned again, the feeling of your walls gripping his fingers making his head spin at how they might feel wrapped round his cock.

"Fuck, you know how turned on your little noises have been making me? Felt like a fucking pervert, had me hard as a rock thinking about what you'd look like if it was me on top of you, making you whine like that."

He said, picking his pace up, expertly fucking his fingers into you and licking and sucking at your clit in intervals until the grip in his hair got a little tighter and he could feel all your muscles begin to tense up.

"You gunna cum baby?" He asked at the increase in your noises. Words were still failing you so you nodded frantically, your shut in bliss, "Come on, you can do it, come for me beautiful."

Who were you to deny him? Especially when he showered you in compliments. The tight knot of your orgasm unraveled for him, the feeling like stars warm across your whole body. You cum on Joel's fingers as his mouth drank every last bit of you, reveling in how you were gushing for him. Your moans were sinful, and now that he was hearing them, really hearing them, he thinks he was so stupid for believing the noises you had been making were from anything close to this.

He let you ride out your orgasm before your breathing evened out and you started to giggle and push him away from him overstimulating your clit.

"Come here." You beckoned him to come closer to you. His mouth and chin and beard were all glistening with your juices. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he climbed on top of you and captured your mouth on his own. You were practically clinging to him, your arms at his neck and shoulders, his arms either side of your head boxing you underneath him. He leaned on you a little, your breasts coming into contact with his bare chest and you moaned a little as you pulled his hips closer to your own with your legs wrapped around him.

You could feel how hard he was as his hips pressed against yours, the outline of his clothed cock enough to have you biting your lip. You fiddled with his belt a little but struggled to get it off him. He laughed at your attempts and sat back to help you, the wetness of your pussy evident on his trousers.

You sat up, ghosting your hand across his covered length wanting to take him into your mouth but Joel couldn't stand waiting any longer, he was getting a little more desperate to feel you around him. To claim you. Make you his.

He gripped your hands, "Stay down."

"Wanna suck you off." You pouted a little.

He laughed darkly, "As much as I'd love to feel that little mouth on me, that can wait," He discarded his jeans and underwear, his hard weeping cock bouncing up against his stomach, "Just need you right now darlin'"

"Next time then." You giggled at him, trying not to feel intimidated by the length and girth of Joel exposed in front of you. He was big. So big you maybe thought he was doing you a favour - saving the ache of your throat for a different time.

"Next time." He chuckled again lowly, excited by the prospect that this wouldn't just be a one time thing.

He pulled you closer to the end of the bed by the thighs and you let out a surprised laugh. You were smiling up at him, watching how his big hand gripped his length and gave himself a few loose tugs, the site of you had the head red and weeping.

"You're so handsome." You said softly, and for a brief moment his dark eyes softened on you. He leaned down to capture your lips briefly. It was much slower than he had been. Gentle like the first kiss you shared. You held his head in your hands as he ran the head of dick through your folds, "Don't think you'll fit."

"You can take it." He growled into your ear, his big wide hands angling your hips. You moaned a little at his words.

He teased your entrance a little with the head of his cock, running his full length along your folds, over your clit and back down again, gathering up your wetness to help aid himself the fit. When he notched the tip just inside he made a noise so animalistic it sent goosebumps across the expanse of your flesh. He pushed in slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He was so thick. Your mouth hung open a little as he seated himself fully inside you.

"Fuck... You're so- so tight," Joel grunted, moving his hips just a little and looking down to watch how your walls clung to his length. He kissed your cheek and held you close as he pulled out all the way and pushed back in.

His pace was slow at first but still hard, his hips snapping roughly against your own. You felt so full, your body and mind consumed by him. You felt just as demented as he did no as you watched how his lips parted a little, his curls stuck to his perspirant covered forehead. He grabbed your thighs a little rougher, throwing each of your legs over his shoulders and then somehow he was hitting so deep your felt like you couldn't breathe.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Oh God. You're so big Joel," You were rambling, his dick rubbing hard against your walls, "Fuck. So big."

You words only made his more eager, and he picked up the pace, practically slamming himself into you.

"Taking me so good. Thought about this for so long," Joel confessed, "Thought about what you'd look like wrapped around my cock. Imagined how you'd scream when I fucked you." He was rambling too, the feel of you squeezing him ever time he pulled out like you were sucking him back in so he couldn't escape made him feral. He groaned, mumbling your name like a little prayer as he continued his brutal pace.

You would normally be embarrassed by the sounds you were making, but the way Joel obsessed over your noises you'd never felt more relaxed about letting them out. Moans, whines, grunts, the wet slapping of skin, the creak of the old headboard against the wall. You briefly felt sorry for your downstairs neighbour.

Joel pulled out and scooped you up then surprisingly, his knees shuffling a little more on the bed so he could kneel and bring you down on top of him. Even though he'd been fucking you the change of angle still touch a stretch, the slick of your dripping pussy helping you to sheath him entirely in one move. He moaned, his forehead pressed against yours now. Your heart swelled as you thought perhaps this change in angle was to appeal to the side of Joel that wanted to be close to you, that wanted affection.

You moved your hips with his own, your thighs barely able to move around him he was so buff. He gripped your ass and helped you, bouncing you up and down on him as he continued to fuck up into you. You cried out as he practically split you open, your arms clinging to him, your nails scratching his back and shoulders a little. The movement of him so close against you had the knot of orgasm building again. The brush of your nipples on his chest, the way his pelvis rubbed at an angle so perfect that it stimulated your swollen clit.

"Fuck you feel so good. You take it so good," He rambled again, his teeth and lips grazing your shoulder, "Look so good riding my dick. Shit."

"Joel, I'm gunna cum."

"Good girl. You take it baby. Take what you need. Cum on my cock. Come on sweetheart, give me one more."

And you were cumming again, gushing all over his length, walls pulsing madly on him. Your hands pulled at his hair. The feel of you had Joel panting, his grip bruising as he fucked you hard and fast through your orgasm. You were practically howling his name, your legs shaking and tears clouding your eyes.

"So good for me. Look so pretty when you cum," His hips were loosing their rhythm a little and his grunts were getting quickly and father between each other.

You could tell he was close, and even through your fucked out exhaustion you helped him along, pulling at his hair, sucking at the expanse of his neck, whispering little things for him, "Cum for me Joel, want you to cum. Love your dick in me. Love how you fuck me."

You thought you might have heard him grunt, "Mine," but you couldn't be sure because then he moaned and dragged you off him so he could cum all over your front. He collapsed on top of you, your breathing both heavy as you come down from your highs. Your bodies sticky with cum and slick and sweat. He didn't care that his own cum was all over his front now too as his head found its way to the crook of your neck. Kissing you softly, you smiled at this new bought of affection. His palms rubbing slow gentle circles on your thighs as he still had your legs around him.

"You think our neighbours are going to be mad at us for keeping em up?" You giggled a little as your fingers found their way into his hair, twisting his curls around your fingers.

He was touch starved, the mere thought of having your fingers in his hair a few days ago would have made him hard. Now, empty of his pining lust - evidence of which seemed to be all over the place - he could only think of how much he cared for you. How deeply his heart ached for you. He didn't know how to say it, but he smiled against your skin.

"Let 'em be mad."

He took you both to the bathroom to clean up, kissed every part of you as you cleaned. You loved this side of him. This gentleness. This softness. It was such a stark comparison to the man who had left bruises on your thigh mere minutes before. And the minute your body was back on the bed and your head hit the comfort of Joel's embrace you were out like a light. He kissed both your eyes and let sleep take him too.

Undisturbed with any thoughts but the man who's arms you had wrapped around you, you, unsurprisingly, slept like a baby. No dreams. No nightmares.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #last of us #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou hbo

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we-stan-cale · 27 days

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I have enjoyed some of the TCF reaction fics, but I feel like there's a major problem.

Namely, that it's really hard for fic writers to stay motivated for over 700+ chapters, so it feels like they all start off strong for the beginning (especially rescuing Raon) and then peter out. We never get to the really good stuff.

Never reach that flashback when Cale reads the letter from the GoD, or see reactions to Choi Han rushing over to see Kim Rok Soo after getting Choi Jung Soo's records. Never have them see the Sealed God's test, and really... Post-apocalyptic Korea horrified Alberu, for good reason. Not that it's explicitly stated, but when is it ever? He had quite the reaction when he was trying to decide what to tell everyone else.

I've had some thoughts on how I would do it, but fair warning - I'm not much of a writer, and will probably never write it. All my respect for the ones that regularly write fanfic because I have like - less than a handful? Maybe, maybe, if I haven't moved on after finishing this reread, I'll try writing it myself.

The other thing is that I've been reading part 2 - only as far as eatapplepies has translated as I find mtl more confusing than helpful - and I'm really liking the Heavenly Demon. He seems to have fallen for our Cale pretty hard, and I'm interested in seeing how that goes.

So I have been playing around with ideas.

First - Dodam is trying to find 'that terrible bastard', and is dragging around his Choi Han.

He reaches Korea. Og!Cale as KRS, specifically. He has his own attribute, one to help him track down Cale, so he can pull up visions/memories related to that.

He pulls up the dream meeting between Cale and KRS.

There are a few team 1 members present, particularly Kim Minh Ah. Cue a bit of chaos, some 'aha' moments, and the long and the short of it is Dodam is going to pull up some of just what they're team leader is up to. (And if Dodam can figure out exactly which world or dimension to to next, and OG! Cale gets the bittersweet ability to see how his deal with the God of Death prevented the destruction he'd lived through, well... That's fine too)

During that brief moment, the Henituse noticed some strange mana fluctuations and managed to get Rosalyn there. She's basically able to tap into the feed and see and hear what's going on.

And divine intervention (like perhaps a god of love) extends the feed to the Heavenly Demon.

What would follow would be an abbreviated version of the key points. Sure, it loses some of the flavor... But we don't actually need, say, the amusing anecdote where an elf mistook Cale for a dragon.

Anyways, the more I thought about it the more I thought about how team 1 would react.

Because the minute they see those monster statues you know they'll all be going 'what the fuck?!?'

They will probably also nod knowingly at some of Cale's more shocking plans. Like hey, there he goes agreeing to help the Mogoru Empire put out the fire he started with the Whipper kingdom.

Nod, nod

Just like he did when they were dealing with that one corrupt guild

And if they ever get as far as seeing the Heavenly Demon, I'm sure one team member will be like 'Is.. is he flirting with Team Leader-nim?!?'

Cue stories where Team Leader Kim Rok Soo avoided a honeypot - except now they're thinking maybe he was just too dense to notice?

#tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #reaction fic #fic ideas

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punkshort · 9 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, mild violence, angst, weakly implied SA (not explicit at all)

Chapter Six

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Joel sat stunned at his desk after you left. He had never seen that side of you before, always so meek and mild mannered. He shouldn’t have called you a whore. He realized now that was a mistake, letting his unhealed wound caused by another effect the way he treated you.

He rubbed his hands over his face, rethinking the conversation you just had. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to soothe his temper so he could think straight. Ok, so you were flirting with some other guy. That wasn’t a crime. He held no claim to you, you had only just kissed the night before, and you were both drinking. Does that even count?

Even if he disregarded the kiss last night, you still had been giving him signs showing your interest, right? Did he misread everything?

Frustrated, he stood up and paced the room again, recounting every interaction he had with you, trying to figure out if the way you acted towards him was just because he was your boss, or if you felt something more.

That one night in the conference room, he swore he saw your knees press together under the table, and he thought you were looking at him like you wanted to take things further, but maybe he came on too strong. Maybe you didn’t know how to react.

He was over analyzing everything now. The way you stepped away from him when he got too close picking up that box for you. How you purposely left his office door open when you came up to see him. Shit, has he been making you feel uncomfortable this entire time?

No, you grabbed his collar and kissed him, he didn’t make that up.

But you were drunk.

Fuck, this was confusing. Joel ran his hands over his face again, pausing to stare out the window. He turned around to head towards the door, and that’s when he spotted it: the small blue package on the floor.

He didn’t even notice you dropped it on your way out, his anger giving him tunnel vision on your retreating form. He reached down to grab it now, easily tearing open the tissue paper. Inside was a keychain: the Texas state flag in the shape of the state it represented. His home.

He stared at it for a moment, imagining you picking it out this morning, having only just known it was his birthday for a few hours. You went out of your way to get him a gift. No one else even bothered to acknowledge his birthday yet today, and here you were, coming into his office to surprise him. And what did he do? He called you a whore.

He was a fucking idiot. He had to find you. He wasn’t sure what he would say, but he had to try to smooth things over.

Joel ran out of his office, jabbing the ‘down’ button on the elevator.

“Joel, I have security on the line, they need to speak with you.” Ruby called out to him from behind her desk, but he waved her off, giving up on the elevator and running towards the stairwell. Once he made it to the 6th floor, he jogged down the aisle that headed towards the accounting department. It took his anxious fingers two tries before his security code worked, pushing the door open, his gaze immediately traveling to your desk.

You weren’t there. He approached it slowly, noticing the picture of your parents was missing.

“Mr. Miller? Can I help you?” the girl he now recognized as Debbie rolled her chair out of her cubical, surprised.

“Yeah, when did she leave?” he gestured towards your desk.

“Maybe 5 minutes ago? She didn’t say anything, she just left. Is she ok?” But Joel ran out of the department, the door swinging back open before Debbie could even finish her question.

Joel raced towards the stairwell. He passed the women’s bathroom, hearing some yelling inside. Right before he opened the door to head downstairs, he heard something crashing to the ground. He didn’t bother to look back, he had to find you.

Gasping for breath, he pushed the door open that entered the lobby. He hurried past the receptionist desk, when a thin girl with curly blonde hair piped up from behind the desk.

“Mr. Miller! The police were just called, something happened upstairs, people are hurt! Security is-”

Joel didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He forcefully pushed the front door open and stood in front of the building, breathless and frantically looking around trying to spot you. There you were, about half a block away, your hair blowing in the wind as you hunched over the box you were carrying.

Joel called your name, but you didn’t turn around. He called it again and again, and still no response. You probably couldn’t hear him over all these people yelling on the street. Why were they yelling?

Finally, on the fourth attempt to get your attention, you slowed your pace, but still did not turn to face him. He couldn’t blame you. He ran to catch up with you, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. Finally, you turned around to look at him, your gaze distant and face carved with fury. He could see the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face that he caused. His chest tightened. He hated seeing that, and he hated even more that he caused it.

“Please, just stop and listen to me,” Joel panted, desperate to make you stop so he could catch his breath. Running down ten flights of stairs really made him feel his age.

He opened his mouth to make a poor attempt at an apology when six trucks rolled up to a screeching stop in front of his building. Dozens of armed soldiers with FEDRA adornments spilled from the trucks, charging into the office. The two of you stood together, stunned at what you were seeing. Then Joel heard the screaming, followed closely by gunfire. He grabbed both of your shoulders now, realizing this was serious and he needed to get you to safety. “Run!” he yelled at you, but you just stood there before him, a dazed look on your face. He gave your shoulders a quick shake and repeated himself: “Run!!”

That seemed to do the trick. Your gaze cleared, dropping the box you were carrying as he grabbed your hand, hauling you as far as he could in the opposite direction.

Joel nearly pulled your arm out of its socket dragging you down the street, careening around groups of people on the sidewalk, and ducking when bullets sounded too close. You clutched your purse against your body with the opposite arm, and briefly looked across the street to see crowds of people running in the same direction as you. You occasionally bounced off of bodies as Joel dragged you further away from your building. Finally, you reached the end of the street, about to cross, only to see more FEDRA trucks and soldiers bearing down on the crowds of people surrounding you from around the corner. You both paused long enough to see soldiers tackling and pinning down innocent civilians, their screams of terror filling your ears.

Joel yanked you in the opposite direction and around the corner, fleeing down a secluded alleyway, desperately trying to find someplace safe to hide. You heard yells and snarls somewhere in your wake, but you didn't dare turn and look, you had to keep pushing forward.

You both stumbled into a small courtyard, scattered with random pieces of patio furniture and surrounded by buildings. The two of you paused a moment to catch your breath and get your bearings. Joel whipped his head around and looked up at the sudden deafening noise of a helicopter overhead. Before it could spot the pair of you, he hauled you down another small alleyway that was empty, and even had a bit of aerial coverage due to a fire escape.

You both gasped for breath, frantically looking around to make sure no soldiers were nearby. As the roar of the helicopter faded and your breathing evened out, you finally looked at one another.

"Why is this happening? Is it a terrorist attack?" You asked him, your hands were shaking and you didn't realize you had been crying.

"Those were FEDRA soldiers attackin' people, I don't think it's terrorists," Joel said, letting go of your hand for the first time so he could rub his face. He glanced around again. You were between to a two story building and what looked like a hair salon. He took note of the fire escape above your heads.

"Alright, there must be offices or apartments or somethin' up there, let me see if there's anyone on the street first, then let's see if we can get in and wait this out."

He moved to poke his head out, but you grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him back in a panic. He looked at you, taking in the fear on your tear streaked face and your trembling hands.

He picked up both your hands and grasped them in his own, holding them against his chest. "Look at me. Breathe, c'mon," he mimicked deeply inhaling through his nose and exhaling out his mouth until you did the same. He waited until your hands steadied a bit before saying, "Now I need to see what's goin' on out there, we need to get off the street. I promise, it will be OK."

You nodded, letting your arms fall to your sides and out of his hold. As Joel slowly peeked his head out, you kept your eyes glued to the other end of the alley to watch for anyone sneaking up on you.

"Alright, looks quiet. The door's just a few steps over, I think it's a bodega. There must be apartments up top we can get to, c'mon." He took your hand again, carefully exiting the alley and only bringing you out behind him once he confirmed no one was around. He pushed on the door, but it wouldn't budge. He gave it another shove, this time more forcefully. You could hear the bells on the other side of the door jingling. Worried you were too exposed and making too much noise, you pulled on Joel's arm, begging him to give up and think of another plan, when you both froze. You heard the lock clicking on the other side, and the door pushed open a crack.

An elderly man peered out through thick framed glasses, eyeing you both up carefully. "Either of you sick?" He asked, still keeping the door mostly closed.

"No, we ain't sick, we're just lookin' to get off the streets, soldiers are killin' folks out here," Joel replied, "please, we won't stay longer than we have to, you got my word."

The older man considered Joel's words for a moment, and then pulled the door open all the way, hurriedly ushering you both inside. He locked the door behind you, and pulled the diamond shaped metal security door in place after. You noticed he already had the windows secured with the same measures.

Joel was right: it was a little bodega. Your eyes swept around the shop, aisles filled mostly with snacks and other sundries. Along the back wall was a refrigerated and frozen section, towards the front where you entered was the cash register, and behind it a wall packed with cigarettes, some first aid, electronics, razors, and other items that were frequently pilfered.

You were not alone in the store. There were four others sitting on the floor against the wall. Two men roughly middle aged, one girl a little older than you, and an elderly lady, who you assumed was the owner's wife. The others must have been customers in the shop before the shooting started.

You introduced yourselves to them, sliding down against the wall to the floor next to Joel to rest.

The elderly shop owner rifled behind the counter and procured a bulky radio. He placed it on the counter, tuning it to find a station that could give you some clue as to what was going on.

One of the men, Dan, addressed the room: "Anyone know what's going on out there?"

Paul, the other man, spoke up. "I don't know, man, but I've heard some freaky fuckin' shit. Someone I ran into out there said people are biting other people, makin' them go all crazy, tryin' to eat each other."

Joel scoffed, "C'mon, that's bullshit. Ain't no way that's happenin'."

"Man, it's fuckin' insane out there. The news was talkin' about the hospitals bein' overrun with some virus, then this happens? I'm just sayin', it ain't as crazy as it sounds." Paul replied, shaking his head.

"I saw it." The girl, Lindsey, spoke up quietly, staring distantly at the ground. "I saw someone bite another person. But they didn't look like a person anymore... their skin was gross, and they were missing hair. They looked almost like an animal or something, the way they jerked their body around."

The room fell silent for a few moments, everyone taking in what Lindsey said. Colleen, you thought to yourself, as you tucked your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on top, and clutching your purse to your side. She was bit, and she looked sick. Was FEDRA at your building because she was biting people? You shuddered at how close you came to being a victim. Joel saw and whispered, "You ok?"

You nodded sharply, not wanting to look him in the eye. You still remembered those words he said to you, those words so filled with hate and disgust all because you wouldn't put out. And now you were depending on this man who couldn't stand you to get you to safety. The only man you knew in this city that for sure was still alive.

A robotic voice from the radio filled the quiet room. It was announcing an emergency, clarifying it was not a test. It advised listeners to stay inside with doors locked, that the federal military has been deployed and to not open your door for anyone except them.

The message repeated over and over. You sighed, the events of the day catching up with you. The kindly bodega owner told you all to help yourselves to the food available, so you grabbed a few bottles of water, some granola bars, a bag of chips and a candy bar. You were starving, realizing you hadn't eaten lunch and it was getting late.

You returned to your spot against the wall, and halfway through your second granola bar, Joel rejoined you. He had grabbed some water as well, but picked up some beef jerky, trail mix, and a couple other things. The others had begun to mill around and stretch their legs, chatting amongst each other to keep their minds off the horrors outside.

"You sure you alright?" Joel asked softly while biting into another piece of jerky.

"Fine." You said curtly, keeping your gaze down. You knew this wasn't the time to unearth your problems, not with the world conceivably ending around you. "Thank you. For, you know, finding somewhere safe and all that."

He paused, looking at you for a moment like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "You're welcome, sw-, uh," Joel stuttered, almost using his pet name for you, but remembering the way he said it last time, decided it wasn't a good idea. "I'm just glad we made it. We'll figure this out and get you back to your family."

Your family. You hadn't even let your thoughts drift to your family, they must be worried sick. Your mom especially, who always tried to talk you out of moving here. You had to try to call them at the very least.

"Do you have your cell phone?" You asked Joel, looking him in the eye for the first time since you entered the bodega.

"Yeah, 'course, here." He reached into his pocket and handed the phone to you. You flipped it open and dialed your house phone, but all you heard on the other end was 'We're sorry, your call cannot be completed. Please hang up and try again.'

So you did just that, several times. You groaned in frustration, flipping the phone shut and handed it back to Joel. "Thanks anyway," you said.

"Phone lines must be down, dear," the owner's wife spoke up after seeing you struggle. "Our landline isn't working, either."

You looked in her direction and nodded sadly. The only hope you had now was to make it to a safe zone the government hopefully sets up, and you could try to contact them that way.

It turned out, Lenny and Maria, the bodega owners, lived in the apartment above the shop. They went upstairs and brought down as many extra pillows, blankets and cushions as they could find. They explained their apartment was small, only one bedroom, but they did have a couch. The group unanimously agreed Lindsey should take the couch. The poor girl was there alone, and it wasn't courteous for Dan or Paul to claim it, so it was a no brainer. They left the key to the bathroom on the counter by the register and headed off to bed.

You had created as comfortable a bed as you could, laying down a thick blanket against the wall on the tile underneath, and covering yourself with another. Luckily, the bodega had a few shirts for sale, as well as toothbrushes and toothpaste. You snagged a shirt that had the NY Mets logo on it and changed out of your work top in the bathroom, folding up your blouse and placing it gently near your pillow.

Joel had chosen to make his own bed next to yours. He gave you a little space, but not much. He didn't know these two men you shared the room with: they seemed like they were trustworthy, but things can deteriorate quickly when people realize no one is around to enforce the rules anymore.

You turned on your side to face the wall, tucking the blanket under your chin. Joel looked over at you, the dim glow from the refrigerators casting over your form, as he watched the steady rise and fall of your breath. You were so scared earlier, the way you grabbed him in the alley with that wild look in your eye, probably in shock after what he put you through, and then the chaos that ensued. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.

He needed to apologize. When the time is right, he needed to explain himself. Right now would not be that time. He could tell you had been through too much today and needed your rest. It was then that Joel vowed to himself to get you to safety. If he ruined his chance with you, the least he could do was make sure you were safe.

He laid on his side and faced your direction, watching your breathing slow when you fell asleep. In a different world, right now he would be out with Tommy celebrating his birthday, and hopefully riding the high of you accepting his date. Instead, he yelled at you and the world went to shit. Christ, was Tommy ok? Did he know what was happening here? Was it happening anywhere else?

His eyelids grew heavy. He shifted so the keychain in his pocket didn't dig into his thigh. He took one last look at you before shutting his eyes and falling asleep.

The group of you spent the next three days holed up together in the bodega, sharing handfuls of dry cereal and snacking on the food from the shelves. At dinnertime, Maria was generous enough to make everyone a meal in the little kitchen upstairs. You all huddled around their modest dining table, occasionally flipping through the channels on the television, hoping something would appear other than static or the station’s sign-off announcement. Sometimes at night, you could hear gunshots and yelling, but it was far enough away that it didn’t worry you too much. It wasn’t until Tuesday that you heard patrolling soldiers from their trucks, encouraging citizens to come out of their dwellings to be taken to the safety of a quarantine zone.

Joel hesitated at first, remembering how he saw FEDRA soldiers tackling innocent people in the streets, but he didn’t see any other option. He couldn’t reunite you with your family if you stayed holed up in a bodega, and even if he could make it to his car and drive you himself, the entire city was on lockdown.

The group of you filed out of the bodega slowly when you heard a FEDRA truck approaching down the street. A few soldiers jogged up, inspecting you all carefully, asking questions like “Does anyone have a fever?” and “Was anybody bit or attacked?” Once it was clear you were all healthy, you climbed into the back of the truck, clutching your purse, your folded work blouse shoved inside.

The makeshift quarantine zone was set up at a high school on the edge of the city. The soldiers explained it was less populated in that area, and therefore less infected people. You connected the dots: the questions about bites, the infection, the fever. It seemed like the crazy rumor Paul and Lindsey talked about was true, people really were going insane and hurting others.

Everybody stood in a line and waited to be processed at the entrance of the school. The soldiers took turns taking each of you into a small room to inspect you closer for any bites and checked your temperatures before allowing you to continue. At the next station, you were each handed a thin blanket, a pillow, and a small bag of essential toiletries, then led through the doors into the school’s gymnasium.

The room was enormous; filled with people, bags and cots. Beside you, Lindsey cried out in joy, bolting across the room when she saw a man she recognized, presumedly a husband or boyfriend. Dan and Paul wished the rest of you well, thanked the older couple again for their hospitality, and drifted away into the crowd.

You gave Maria and Lenny each a hug, thanking them over and over for keeping you safe, and promised to return to their shop once everything went back to normal. Then it was just you and Joel again.

He led you around the various clusters of people until you found an unclaimed cot. You tossed your provisions and your purse on one end and looked back up at Joel.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he said, glancing around the room trying to think of something else to say. Neither of you had talked about the argument you had, and the more time that passed, the more difficult it became. You stared down at your hands while fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, all the words left unsaid just kept getting pushed further and further down.

“Uh, once you get settled in, go find one of them soldiers at the entrance and see if they can’t contact your folks for you,” Joel said, shifting his weight. “I’m sure they can find someone out there.”

You nodded, keeping your head down and biting your lower lip anxiously. The only person you knew who was alive in this city was leaving you. You tried to keep him from seeing how nervous you were, so you turned to spread your blanket out on your cot, and began to sift through the bag of toiletries to occupy yourself.

Joel watched as you slowly unpacked your things, the words he so desperately needed to say stuck in his throat. Just say it, say you’re sorry, you will never get another chance again.

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t say it. Maybe because he thought it wouldn’t matter, maybe the seriousness of the situation everyone was in took precedence, or maybe because you had hardly spoken a word to him since the outbreak. Instead, he turned and walked towards the opposite side of the gym, setting his stuff down on an empty cot next to another man. He was wearing a Yankees hat on top of his bald head, sporting a full, dark beard and hiding a beer gut under his worn out white T-shirt.

"Hey, man," he stretched his arm out to Joel, "Louis."

Joel shook his hand, "Joel." He muttered, glancing back towards your direction.

"If you wanted a spot closer to your girl, I can switch." Louis offered, following Joel's gaze.

Joel shook his head. "She ain't my girl," he said sadly.

"Ah, yeah, man, I get it." Louis replied, scooting closer on his cot so he could lean closer to Joel. "Let me give you some advice though: if you care about her at all, you won't leave her alone here, you get me?" His voice was lower now, capturing Joel's attention away from you.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, eyebrows raised. Louis looked back in your direction as you stood up to follow Joel's advice about speaking to one of the soldiers.

"I mean, I've heard some shit, at night. We all have. There's a couple girls who are here without anyone, and some men around here have noticed." Louis put emphasis on the last word to imply something dark.

Joel frowned, leaning back and glancing around the room. He did notice there were hardly any women that were alone, most of them were with family or friends. Then he saw a small group of three men diagonal across the room, their eyes following you as you exited to speak to the soldiers about your parents.

He looked back at Louis, shocked. Louis nodded subtly towards another group behind the two of you, who also had been looking in your direction. Jesus, things really went to shit quickly.

"What the fuck?" Joel whispered towards Louis angrily, his jaw clenching. "Why haven't you told the soldiers?"

"We do, man. Every time. I don't think they care, they are more worried about infected than stuff like that. I'm starting to wonder if some of the soldiers are in on it, too." Louis shook his head, adding "When my wife gets here, we are leaving fucking immediately, I suggest you take her somewhere else."

Joel rubbed his hands over his face. "Where else is there?"

"I don't know, man, people are saying this virus is all over, not just the city. But I'm not letting my wife stay here. I'd rather take my chances out there." Louis hitched his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards outside.

Joel sighed. "Alright, thanks. D'you mind swappin' with her? I'll get us outta here tomorrow."

Louis packed up what little items he had, and headed over with Joel towards your cot. You had just sat back down, looking defeated and lost. The solider said they would try to help you out if they could, but they weren't making promises, that everyone in this place was looking to contact someone.

"Hey, c'mon, get your stuff, you're comin' over by me," Joel said gruffly, still angry about what was happening here. You looked up at them both, confused. "Why?"

"I'll explain later, just hurry up before someone else takes the spot." Joel avoided looking you in the eye and instead glanced back over his shoulder, noticing the group of men from earlier were watching.

You wanted to argue with him, but thought better of it. He's been sleeping next to you for the past three nights, what difference did it make now.

Nodding at Louis, who shot you a tight smile and set his stuff down on your now vacated cot, you got up to follow Joel across the room.

The next morning, you woke up early, before the sun, to see Joel with his back to you, sitting on his cot, alert and wide awake. You laid there for a while, running your eyes up and down his back and across his broad shoulders, taking in his striking side profile when his head turned. Even though you were so badly hurt by his words, you were still undeniably attracted to him, which was incredibly frustrating. You let your eyelids flutter back closed, and replayed the kiss you shared over and over in your mind. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it gave you some comfort, ignoring everything that happened after that kiss.

When the sun filtered in through the gymnasium windows, you begrudgingly pulled yourself up, stretching and yawning, finding Joel was packing up his things. "What're you doing?" You asked sleepily.

"We're leavin', get your stuff." He replied, not looking up.

Joel hadn't told you why he wanted you to switch spots closer to him, and you didn't ask again. You weren't sure you wanted to know. You just packed up your things quickly, and stood to follow him out of the room. You passed by Louis on the way out. Joel reached out to shake his hand once more, and Louis nodded to you, saying, "Stay safe out there, sweetheart."

You gave him a small smile, trying not to show the sadness that filled you to hear the term of endearment Joel used to use, and exited the school the same way you arrived.

Chapter Seven

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game

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redrobin-detective · 7 months

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Simon and Marcy's relationship through the years

So I finally watched the Stakes miniseries in Adventure Time and I think like I finally understand Marceline and her motivations better, especially regarding Simon.

So seeing the stuff with Marcy's mom from Stakes I think it's pretty clear why she sent Marcy away in the first place.

She didn't want Marcy to see her die. It could be any general post-apocalyptic illness I suppose but with a mutagenic bomb I'm gonna assume it's some sort of radiation poisoning. Marcy is little here, between 5-7 so I don't think she processed why her Mom 'abandoned' her, only the hurt left behind. We see she hadn't really accepted/understood until Distant Land's Obsidian.

So that fear of abandonment translates over to Simon who, also, is forced to leave 'for her safety'. So, objectively, it's about the crown, how he's slowly losing himself and could potentially hurt her. I had asked, right from the start of my AT watch 'why does he keep putting the crown on?' We see in Simon & Marcy, its as a deterrent against the dangers of a post-war world. But Marcy was important to him, surely he could find some other way, I mean look at this

This is not a man eager to leave behind the child in his care. So why did he?

And after watching Marcy's mom succumb to radiation poisoning it hit me. Simon left Marcy for the same reason her mom did: to spare her the pain of watching a parent die. Here are the lyrics from I Remember You

"This magic keeps me alive / but it's making me crazy"

The crown was keeping him alive through the apocalypse, if it wasn't poisoning from the bomb it might have been something else. Marcy, being half demon, was protected but Simon was totally human without the crown's protection. Simon realized he had no choice but to leave her: by dying as a human like her mother or lost to madness of the crown. So he left, to ensure she didn't have to see either one. It was probably the hardest decision he ever made and he felt guilty enough to write Marcy a note. He wrote it on the back of a picture of Marcy so she'd see it but she didn't get to read it until almost a millennia later. But for a thousand years, Marcy harbored resentment towards Simon and later Ice King.

Marcy stated she originally became a vampire hunter to protect the remaining humans, thinking it was an extension of protecting her one time protector. She grieved his loss in her life greatly which turned into bitterness and frustration. Marceline was seemingly abandoned by two close parental figures in her early childhood which -coupled with vampirism and living unchanging for centuries- turned her into apathetic, isolated punk rocker we meet at the start of the series.

We don't know when Marcy and Ice King formally met but we know they didn't have much interaction in the main Adventure Time series until I Remember You. If I were to guess, Marcy probably tried to get through to Simon briefly before giving up and then avoiding him. She probably assumed he left her for the power of the crown, her own hurt clouding the memories of Simon's actions and his words to her.

We know Simon reached out to her multiple times, tracking her down and spending time with her without really knowing why. Marcy, it seemed, did her level best to just avoid him. Until she finds the note Simon left for her.

It doesn't explain everything but it's enough for Marcy to understand the important bits: that Simon did not leave her willingly, that he loved her and seeking forgiveness for his future actions as the Ice King. After this episode, we see Marcy hanging out with Ice King of her own volition and, to the best of my knowledge, she only refers to him as "Simon" from now on.

It's a big step for her, who has clung to this hurt and anger for a long, long time. To look at a man who doesn't remember her and open her heart just a crack to let him through again. I think the note from the past plus the singing in the present gave Marcy a way to bridge this crazy wizard to her old friend. One of my favorite details in the song is we hear Tom Kenny's distinctive dopey Ice King voice throughout it until we get to the last few harmonizing Da Da's. Maybe it's my imagination but the last few tones on his end are softer, more human, closer to the Simon of memory.

Its a reminder to Marcy and to us that Simon was still there.

TLDR: Marcy's mom sent her away so her daughter wouldn't watch her die and Simon chose to do the same since he would have died without the crown. Marcy hung onto this grief for years shaping it into her early AT self. I Remember You gave Marcy closure on assuring Simon's affections for her and why he left. It was also when she finally saw him for the first time in Ice King and began to allow him back into her life which led to him being freed. These two make me so emotional.

#simon petrikov #adventure time #marceline the vampire queen

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fragilefable · 6 months

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don't look too far, right where you are, that's where i am.

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader Summary: As you battle a seasonal flu, your partner Joel makes sure that you don't have to lift a finger. Warnings: sick fic, soft/ooc!Joel, cursing, brief mention of loss of appetite due to sickness, in depth descriptions of being sick, suggestive flirting (nothing crazy), probably too much domestic fluff, established relationship, kissing.

Word Count: 1.1K Currently Playing: Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: this is completely self indulgent as I am currently writing this on my death bed (i have the flu). so please accept this oneshot while i finish proofreading another (way longer) fic that i've been working on for a long time! also please keep my immune system in your thoughts/prayers :(

As the color of the leaves became warmer, the Wyoming air turned colder. Another autumn in Jackson came and went. With this seasonal shift came great advantages: Infected became slower, as did Raiders and Hunters. It also came with disadvantages–– sickness being one of them. The Cordyceps Infection plagued every inch of the Earth, but this disease was far more unavoidable.

Your body ached with each minute movement. The sheets were damp with sweat. Your throat dry, as if you were backpacking in the Arizonian heat, your tin canteen bone dry. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead, you groaned: You definitely had a fever. Removing your clammy hand, you extend an arm in search of a familiar warmth, only to find the left side of the bed empty.

A raspy cough escapes your lips as you call out for your partner, "Joel?" Your call is met with a heavy silence, daylight filling the empty bedroom. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. A smile threatens your cracked lips when you spot a glass of water and two painkillers on the nightstand beside a note embellished with familiar chicken scratch: "Went to the market, be home soon. Love ya."

You weakly chuckled as you popped the two pills in your mouth, chasing them with the lukewarm water. A shiver ran down your spine as you threw the covers off your body. Groaning softly, you stood up and extended your arms above your head, permitting the sore muscles a moment of reprieve. Padding over to the dresser, you lazily pulled on one of Joel's flannels and a pair of grey sweatpants. You took a moment to inhale through your stuffy nose, basking in the warm, woodsy scent of his shirt.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to descend the stairs; your tired limbs were heavy like sandbags, effectively weighing you down. Shuffling into the living room, you collapsed on the worn leather couch. You were useless in this state, resolute to hibernate until this illness left your body. Curling into the couch cushions, you allow your eyelids to droop shut as sleep overtakes your body once again.

A familiar weight sinks beside you on the couch, just barely rousing you from your slumber. The warmth of Joel's hand rested briefly on your forehead and then on your cheek. You hum in response, nestling closer against the callouses of his palm. He chuckles softly, "Hey Darlin'. How ya feelin'?" Your eyes flutter open, taking a mental photograph of his chill-flushed cheeks: "Like shit."

A sympathetic smile graced his hardened face, causing you to frown. You were tough–– you had to be. There was no room for weakness or fragility in a post-apocalyptic world. But you truly felt like utter, complete garbage. Joel's large hands wander the expanse of your back, gently massaging the strained muscles. As much as you didn't want to burden him, you couldn't deny that his attention was helping to alleviate some of the discomfort: "You don't have to fuss over me, Joel. I'm a grown-up. I can take care of myself."

Joel hums in acknowledgment, applying more pressure to the tight knot right below your neck where your spine starts: "I know, baby. I want to. Lemme take care of you." You hesitate but eventually nod softly, your body sinking further into the plush leather. Joel's hands knead your back muscles with such care and precision that any tension immediately dissipates.

Slowly, you push yourself up, clutching your neck in discomfort. "Your throat hurt?" Joel beckons from beside you, one of his arms slung over the back of the couch–– his fingers absentmindedly caressing the exposed skin of your shoulder. You nod weakly, causing him to stand and wander towards the kitchen abruptly, "Went to the market and picked up some of that tea y'like. Got some soup, too."

You follow his path to find him unpacking the canvas tote, setting each item on the granite counter. "Thank you, baby. 'M not really hungry though," you stand behind him, arms wrapped around his torso. You press a kiss on his clothed back in between his shoulder blades, eliciting a soft groan from Joel: "Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll get you that tea?"

Your arms tighten around his tall frame, "Are you sayin' I smell, Miller?" Joel laughs gruffly, "No. 'M sayin' you need to relax if you wanna get better." You separate from him, brushing a stray curl from his face: "Mhm. You just wanna get me naked." He smirks, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you flush against him— his gaze darts between your eyes and lips. You place your hands on his chest and softly protest, "Joel... We can't, you'll catch it too."

He scoffs, "Don't care. Your germs are my germs, darlin'." His lips capture yours; the kiss is chaste but affectionate. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip, tongue swiping across the subtle indents he left. He pulls away, his thumb caressing your chin: "Now go before I change my mind."

Rolling your eyes, you trudge up the stairs to your and Joel's shared bathroom. You turn on the shower, allowing the room to fill with steam. You lather your body with herbal soaps made by one of the older women who work in the greenhouse. It smelled of lavender and thyme–– it smelled of Joel.

After turning off the faucet, you wrap yourself in a large terrycloth towel. Worn and slightly miscolored, but clean nonetheless. When you descend the staircase, the overwhelming scent of chamomile fills your nostrils, accompanied by the mellow chords of an acoustic guitar. A smile breaks across your face at the sight laid in front of you: Joel perched on the worn fabric of the couch with his guitar idly sat in his lap, his deft fingers plucking the strings.

Your body collapses next to his, head lolling to the side before it rests against his shoulder. "Did the shower help?" His chest rumbles, fingers continuing to play a song from before the outbreak; the name escapes you. "Yes, it did. But this helps more," you bring your knees close to your chest. You relish in Joel's body heat; that man always was a goddamn furnace.

Joel set the guitar against the coffee table, repositioning until your body fully leaned against him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, "Is there anythin' else I can do f'you darlin'?" You shook your head, "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" A deep chuckle escaped him, "That I can do." As your eyes slipped closed once more, you felt a pair of warm lips press against your hairline and listened as Joel's breathing evened out. The sound soothing you to sleep like your very own lullaby.

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x gn reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #the last of us #pedro pascal #ೃ༄ wren writes

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