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gracieheartspedro · 7 months

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Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since.

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah.

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family.

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again.

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred.

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered.

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too.

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change.

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.”

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter.

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice.

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?”

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her.

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table.

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again.

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat.

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder.

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase.

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him.

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you.

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second.

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him.

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him.

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air.

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel.

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff.

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body.

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones.

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin.

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed.

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate.

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight.

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?”

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl.

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression.

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved.

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth.

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm.

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently.

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language.

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum.

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs.

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples.

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you.

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation.

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster.

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions.

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum.

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm.

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed.

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake.

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum.

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord.

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked.

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet.

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task.

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture.

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap.

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it.

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did.

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before.

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s.

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before.

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you.

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords.

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive.

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?”

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes.

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane.

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was.

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words.

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off.

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing.

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower.

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way.

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit.

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing.

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth.

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face.

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor.

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name.

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you.

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door.

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is.

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip.

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation.

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose.

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes.

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat.

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly.

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care.

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen.

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them.

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry.

You kind of scared yourself.

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl.

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect.

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #gracieheartspedro

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janeyseymour · 3 months

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Fire In My Heart- pt 4

A request from @sleep-deprived-athlete: maybe the reader gets hurt and Mel has to deal with the reader recovering and is all worried and both the Abbott crew and the fire station are worried when both of them are MIA, mainly because the Abbott crew didn’t know the reader got hurt?

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

WC: ~3.1k

You really don’t know what possessed you to do this, thinking you’ll come out of the situation unscathed. One minute, you’re barking out orders to your subordinates to not enter that burning building- that it’s going to collapse quickly. The next, you hear a sharp cry from a coming from said building, and you’re running in.

You quickly drop to your knees and start crawling through the building where you find a small child cowering in the corner on the second floor.

“C’mere, honey,” you yell, still trying to keep your voice gentle. The child is like a deer in the headlights, absolutely terrified with the flames around her. You know that you have very limited time, so you make a decision to run for the child and grab her. Her cries break your heart as you hold her closely to your chest and try to decide if you have time to make it down the steps again or if you just need to jump.

Before you can make a decision, you hear the other side of the house starting to crumble. You look at the window, and it’s closed. Making one last executive decision, you cradle the girl to your uniform, covering her face with your coat, before running for the window and colliding with it. You break the window and go crashing down to the ground- but you’re out. You had fallen at least twenty feet with the little girl, and you hear it almost instantly that your bones can’t handle it. But right now you’re in shock, so you can’t feel it. All that matters is that you get this little, unharmed, girl back to her parents. You can deal with your injuries later.

You get the little girl to her family, and they thank you profusely. You just saved her life. You know. You allow them to fuss over the little girl before you are finally able to walk away. Only then do you hiss in pain at the fire you’re feeling in your ribs and the throbbing in your ankle.

“Chief, you okay?” one of your firemen comes running over to you as you stumble away from the group.

“Fine, I’m fine,” you tell him as evenly as you can. “Let’s get back to the station.”

You let one of the others drive the truck, because you really don’t think you could handle it. You subtly steady yourself in the back, trying not to let every small bump in the road make you scream in pain.

Thankfully, you only have about forty-five minutes before your shift ends, and then you know you’re going to have to get yourself to the hospital.

It’s late. It’s nearly midnight, but you know if you don’t show up at home tonight, Melissa will freak out.

“Mel?” you gasp out as you try to navigate your way to the hospital.

“Y/N?” you hear her sleep filled voice answer the phone. “What’s up?”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital,” you say quickly. “I-”

“What?!” the redhead shouts into the phone, making you wince. “What do you mean you need me to meet you at the hospital?! What hospital?!”

“Jefferson,” you sigh out as you pull into the parking garage to park your car. “Please don’t freak out.”

“When my girlfriend calls me at midnight telling me to meet her at the hospital, I’m going to freak out!” You hear her jump out of bed and start changing into her normal clothes.

“Please, take a breath before you get here,” you tell her. “I’m okay, I’m conscious, I’m talking to you, I don’t need you in a hospital bed next to me because you get into a car accident trying to get to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” you hear the redhead huff. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Just hang tight.”

Your girlfriend runs every stop sign, and she runs most of the red lights too. She parks next to your car in the dimly lit parking garage before sprinting into the hospital, yelling your name at the receptionist as she halts.

“And your relation to the patient?” the woman looks unimpressed with the teacher’s dramatics.

“She’s my fucking wife!” Melissa yells. A lie.

“Room 111.” Your girlfriend takes off in the direction of your room before the secretary can say anything else.

When she gets to your room, you’re laying in the bed, already changed into a gown.

“Hey,” you wheeze out.

“Oh my god, hun,” she mutters as she races to your bedside and kisses you gently. “What the hell happened?”

“Broke ribs, broke my ankle,” you sigh.

“Okay, but how? Why is no one from your squad here?”

“Jumped out a burning building, and they don’t know I’m here,” you do your best to shrug, only to wince in pain.

“What do you mean you jumped out a burning building?”

You sigh before you go to explain your situation, but the doctor comes in to give you medication and begin the process of putting the cast on your right foot.

“You drove here with a broken ankle?!” Melissa’s eyes go wide as she realizes what you’ve done.

You shrug. “I’ve had second degree burns. Nothing hurts more than that shit.”

“Your wife is a trooper,” the doctor tells Melissa. “She’s a tough cookie. Broke four ribs and her ankle in two places and still managed to get herself here.”

“Wife?” you whisper to yourself. The redhead gently smacks your shoulder and gives you a look. You nod quickly before turning back to the doctor.

“We want to keep her for observation, but then she should be fine to go home tomorrow morning so long as there are no left turns overnight,” the doctor tells the teacher. “She’ll need some help for the next couple of weeks.”

“Of course,” Melissa nods immediately. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

The two of them discuss how to take care of you to the best of Melissa’s ability, and then he turns to you.

“Morphine’s coming your way, and you’ll be in way less pain,” the doctor smiles at you.

“Thanks doc,” you wince as you shift in your bed.

It’s a bit later that the drugs start to kick in, and your body feels like it’s floating. You grin over at Melissa, you squeeze her hand gently. She glances over at you, taking her eyes away from the doctor as he finishes up the final piece of plaster for your cast. She sees that your eyes are glazed over.

“You feelin’ good, amore?”

“You’re really pretty,” you slur out. “I can’t believe we’re dating.”

“We’re more than dating,” the redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she commits to her lie. “We’re married, remember?”

“Oh my god,” your eyes light up. “My wife! Mrs. Schemmenti!” You bring her hand to your lips and kiss it softly.

The doctor can’t help but chuckle at your inebriated state. “Your wife just kept going on about how you were coming,” he tells Melissa.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily. “I just can’t believe you’re my wife! My beautiful, redheaded goddess of a wife!”

“Good lord,” the teacher chuckles. “How long is she going to be out of it like this?”

“Another few hours at least,” the man tells Melissa as he stands from his place. He looks over your cast with a satisfied look. “But she’ll probably end up falling asleep before it all wears off.”

As if on cue, you get Melissa’s attention again. “‘m tired,” you mumble.

“Get some sleep, hun,” she kisses your temple.

“Don’ go,” you whisper.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” she promises you. And that’s the last thing that you remember before you drift off.

When you wake up, your body feels like it’s on fire. It hurts so bad. But Melissa is still by your side, sipping a cup of coffee while she holds your hand and scrolls through her phone.

“Oh my god,” you groan out.

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I jumped out a second story window,” you quip dryly.

“Is that what happened last night?” the redhead looks at you. Shit. You forgot you didn’t tell her what happened.

“Yeah,” you admit sheepishly.

“Baby, what the hell?”

“There was a little girl in the fire we responded to last night, and I had no other choice. She’s fine, and I’ll survive,” you grumble. “But holy shit, ow.”

“They already called in your medication for when we get home, and I have the discharge papers. I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

“Let’s go,” you moan as you move to get out of bed. You raise a brow. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I called out. Gotta take care of my wife,” she tells you as the doctor enters the room again.

“Such a doting wife,” you play along, but it feels so good to call her that. Your mind wanders to the ring at the station. “Ava didn’t ask questions, and even if she did, I wasn’t about to say shit. Our lives are personal, and I have enough sick and vacation days to take care of you for as long as I have to.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days,” you try to assure her.

You indeed are not ‘fine’ in a few days. Your ribs are on fire, the morphine pills hardly help, and you’ve been camped out on the couch for what feels like forever. You’re miserable. You can barely move without wanting to burst into tears, and when Melissa wraps your ribs, you do cry.

“I know, hun,” she says regretfully as she approaches you with the gauze. “I’m sorry.”

“Just get it over with,” you whine.

She helps you sit up, situates herself behind you, and undoes the gauze around you now. She inspects your ribs for a few seconds with a sigh. “They’re starting to change color,” she tells you softly. “Which means you’re one step closer.”

“This is going to take forever,” you groan. “I just want to get back to work.”

“I know you do,” your girlfriend tells you as she starts to wrap you again. “But for now, try to revel in the time we get to spend together.”

“I am very much enjoying watching you dance around the house,” you crack a smile. “But I wish I was dancing with you. And sooner or later, the boys are going to start freaking out if I don’t show up to the station.”

“Well,” your girlfriend sighs as she finishes wrapping you up before pressing a few ice packs to your ribcage. She helps you lean back against her. “The doctor said to limit travel and physical activity.”

“What did you tell the school?”

“That I was taking time off,” she says flatly. “I told you: they don’t need to know unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“And nobody has reached out to ask you about your leave of absence?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t care. I’m busy taking care of my woman.”

It takes approximately a week for Randy to text you about your whereabouts.

Chief, I know you said you were sick, but this is becoming worrisome. I’ve seen you in here through so many sicknesses. What knocked you this time?

“Randy texted,” you sigh. “And I don’t want to admit I’m… like this.”

“Barb’s been texting me too,” your girlfriend sighs from behind you.

“Do you think we should just come clean?” you ask.

“That one’s up to you, hun,” Melissa tells you as she presses a kiss to your temple.

“I guess I should tell my crew,” you wince slightly as your girlfriend readjusts the ice on your ribs. “If the Abbott guys find out, I guess it’s whatever.”

Broken ribs and broken ankle, you text your short-term replacement. I’ll be back in a week, but I’m on desk duty for the next couple months.

How’d you manage that one?

Jumped out a second story window to save a little girl.

You at least getting workers’ comp? Randy asks. He’s always so logistical.

You bet your ass I am.

Feel better soon, Chief.

Thanks, Randy.

Melissa Ann Schemmenti, a text from Barbara reads. You better answer me and explain where the hell you’ve been.

Melissa, we’re getting worried.

Melissa.

The redhead sighs as she calls her best friend from work.

“Melissa Ann, you better tell me what is happening right now that has you going MIA from work,” the kindergarten teacher picks up immediately.

“I’m fine,” she rolls her eyes at her friend’s dramatics.

“Then where have you been for the past week and a half without telling us where you went?!”

“Listen, Y/N got hurt on the job, and I had enough days to take to stay home and make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be right now,” the redhead sighs into the phone.

“Y/N got hurt?” Barbara’s voice goes softer instantly. “Is there anything any of us can do to help the two of you?”

“Nah, we got it handled,” Melissa says into the phone. “I’ll be back next week, but I’ll still most likely be taking half days so I’m here when she needs me to drive her home-“ she turns to look at you. “-because there ain’t no way she’s taking the Septa to work or driving herself.”

The next day, Randy comes knocking on your door.

“Mel? Can you grab that?” you call to her from your place on the couch.

“Yeah, hun,” she calls back as she wanders into the front room. She grabs a baseball bat from behind the television before going to the door.

“Randy?” she raises a brow as she puts down her bat. “Zach? Luke?”

“Hey,” the older man says quietly. “Thought we should check up on the chief and bring some stuff.”

Your girlfriend steps aside and lets them into the house.

“Hey, boss,” they all say at the same time. Randy has a bouquet of flowers, Zach has some chocolates for you, and Luke is standing there with two cards in hand.

“Why are you here?” you ask from your place on the couch. You groan as you try to sit up slightly.

“Take it easy, Chief,” Randy immediately says. Melissa nods at his words. “We just dropped by to make sure our favorite badass is doing okay.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” you sigh as you fall back into the cushions. “I’ve been better.”

The boys come and take a seat around your living room. Randy places the flowers on the coffee table, Zach hands you the chocolates, and Luke gives you the card.

When you open the first envelope, it’s a card from the family that you responded to. There’s quite a long letter expressing their gratitude for saving the little girl. The second envelope is from the squad, and there’s quite a few gift cards and well wishes within it.

“Youse guys didn’t have to do this,” you roll your eyes. “But thank you.”

“When our chief is down, we have to look out for her,” Luke tells you earnestly. “Gotta take care of you the way you take care of us.”

They stay for a bit, and by the time they leave, Melissa is starting to make dinner.

The day after that, Barbara stops by.

“Barb,” Melissa answers the door.

“Where is she?” the older teacher asks.

“Wow. Hello to you too. I thought you were my friend,” the redhead deadpans.

“Your girlfriend is hurt,” the kindergarten teacher enters the living room and takes in the sight. “Oh you poor thing.”

“Hey Barb, I’m alright,” you chuckle, but then you wince. It still hurts to laugh. She hugs you gingerly before settling next to you.

“Is Melissa taking care of you well?”

“Of course she is,” you say honestly. “Mel likes to play tough, but you know she’s just a marshmallow underneath all that eyeliner and leather.”

“Oh don’t I know it,” Barbara quips.

“You really didn’t have to come by,” you tell her. “But thank you for stopping in.”

“You’re lucky it’s just me. The whole group wanted to stop by for our favorite firefighter, but I knew you two wouldn’t much like that.”

“No, we would not,” Melissa says flatly. She then softens. “You staying for dinner?”

“Oh, Melissa,” Barbara tuts. “Take a seat. You have to be exhausted taking care of your crippled girlfriend. I’ll cook the two of you dinner.”

Only then do you notice that the woman had come in with a bag full of groceries.

“No, no,” your girlfriend waves her off. “I’m fine. Besides, it’s about time for her to start icing her ribs any-”

Barbara stands immediately and heads for the kitchen. After rifling around in your freezer, she returns with two ice packs. “Sit, Schemmenti. I got this. You both deserve to be taken care of.”

“I got-”

“Melissa Ann,” the kindergarten teacher says sternly. “Sit. Relax. I got this.”

Begrudgingly, Melissa makes her way over to you and situates herself behind you. She holds the ice packs to your ribs gently, despite the fact that you try to squirm away from the cold sensation.

“I have stuff to make my casserole,” Barbara informs the two of you. “And until it’s ready, you two will stay right where you are and relax.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her as you relax against Melissa.

By the time the casserole is in the oven to cook, your girlfriend has dozed off.

Dinner is delicious, and you couldn’t be more grateful that Barbara got Melissa to sit still and actually relax. She needed it. She’s been hovering over you since the incident, an anxiety riddled mess.

“Thank you,” you sigh softly to the teacher as she heads out. “We really appreciate it.”

“Anything for family,” the woman says softly before she sees herself out.

You return to work the following week, and as you hobble into your office, your squad applauds you.

“It’s good to have you back, Chief,” Randy says loudly. He follows you into your office before confiding in you quietly, “This place was about to go to shit if you didn’t come back.” He grabs his coffee mug off of your desk before making himself scarce.

As you reacquaint yourself with your office, you pull open the drawer that has Melissa’s ring in it.

If this whole ordeal taught you anything, it’s that you need to propose to your girlfriend- sooner rather than later- so that you can officially call that redheaded woman of yours your wife. That and… maybe don’t jump out of a second story window and think you’ll be okay.

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part three

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

dinner and a movie turns into much more.

a/n: this is mostly smut, but it’s relevant 😇 part 4 is finished and part 5 is almost done. can’t stop, won’t stop.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, explicit sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, rough sex, light choking, unprotected p-in-v (reader is on the pill but it goes without saying), dirty talk, more banter, pre-outbreak joel owns my heart almost as much as outbreak joel does.

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn on notifications!✨

The Miller’s house isn’t far from yours. It takes all of ten minutes for you to drive through your side of the suburb to Joel’s. The cul-de-sac is pretty cookie-cutter, but it’s easy to spot Joel’s pick-up truck in the right driveway, and you park your car behind it, grabbing your purse from the passenger’s seat and killing the engine.

You weren’t sleeping over, that much had been discussed. You didn’t expect to, knowing you weren’t at the point yet where you would meet Sarah, and not wanting your first meeting to be an awkward, hi, I slept in your dad’s bed last night, how’s it going, kiddo?

There’s a loud noise from the other side of the door when you knock, and Joel pulls it open a second later, dishrag over his shoulder, something streaked on his cheek, and a frustrated glint to his eyes. He doesn’t say a word as he steps to the side to let you in, and the distinct smell of something burning meets your nose as you walk through.

“You okay?” you ask, reaching for his arm as he lets the door close. “What’s that smell?”

“It was supposed to be, uh, risotto? But I…” He rubs his hand over his face, smearing whatever’s on his cheek further, grimacing when it transfers onto his palm. He takes the rag off his shoulder, wipes his hand with it. “I am clearly not a chef.”

“You’re cute as hell, is what you are,” you tell him, reaching up to wipe his cheek completely. Once it’s clean, you lean up on your toes to kiss the spot. “I mean what I said, y’know, cereal for dinner?”

“I don’t know if we have any,” he grumbles, face falling as he scrubs his hand over it again. “But I’ll look—”

“How about you go sit down,” you tell him, planting both hands on his back pushing him down the hallway towards what you assume to be the kitchen. Your eyes dart over the hallway as you walk, the walls covered with picture frames, Joel’s face jumping out from different photos, people you assume to be Tommy and Sarah with him. “And I’ll take care of this?”

The kitchen is a bit of a disaster. The oven is open, a bit of smoke still trailing up out of it, and you can see the burnt remains of Joel’s cooking attempt on a baking sheet. There’s a few pots and pants on the stove, one of them clearly having bubbled over and spilled on the stovetop.

“You’re gonna cook me dinner in my own house?” Joel asks, turning to face you, his head cocked to the side. “I was supposed to make you dinner, not the other way around.”

“I’ll let you buy the coffees on Monday, then. I’m gonna cook,” you assert, pushing him towards what looks like the living room, a large leather couch against a wall full of windows, “and you’re gonna sit down. You have beer?”

“Jesus, woman,” he grumbles, pushing back against you, taking your chin in his big hand and tilting your face up to his. “S’like I made you in a lab or somethin’.”

You laugh, leaning up on your toes as he meets you halfway for a soft kiss. It lingers against your lips, the promise of something more already sparking between you. And it’s still early. “Go sit down, Miller,” you tell him, pulling away after a moment, pressing a finger into his chest.

He doesn’t stay seated for long, joining you in the kitchen after a few minutes. He pulls bottles of beer out of the fridge for both of you, leaving them on the kitchen table while you rifle through the pantry for a solution to the burnt dinner. Joel clears out the ruined pans, stacks the pots in the sink and fills them with water. “No savin’ that,” he grumbles.

“It was a good attempt,” you tell him, rubbing your hand up and down his back as he dumps what looks like rice into the trash. “An appreciated one.”

You find a package of spaghetti buried in one of his cupboards, a jar of tomato sauce in another, and he’s got a decent spice rack. It doesn’t take long to whip it all together; you even find a bit of ground sausage in the fridge that still looks good, adding that to the sauce.

“And you can cook?” Joel declares when you force him to sit, sliding a plate in front of him. “God, you are somethin’ else, you know?”

“I know,” you agree, laughing as you slide into the chair beside him. You eat quickly, Joel clearing his plate quickly while you pick a bit, anticipation simmering in your gut and killing your appetite. Your knees are pressed to his beneath the table, your hands bumping occasionally as you eat. It’s quiet conversation, talking about your days, cracking a few jokes about Joel’s apparently inability to cook, to which he replies that Sarah has never once complained.

“Or maybe she did,” he mumbles, licking spaghetti sauce from the corner of his mouth, “and I just wasn’t listenin’.” He stares at you, eyes wide. “Oh god, am I a terrible cook?”

You have to stifle your laugh, reaching out and rubbing his forearm. “She’s made it this long, Joel, I’m sure you’re doing great.”

Your answer seems to relax him some, and once his plate is clean — yours having been emptied onto his once you admitted you weren’t very hungry — he gets up, ordering you to finish your beer as he clears the table and loads the dishwasher. Once he’s done, he leads you to the living room, pulling you down on the couch beside him. The sky outside is getting dark, the sun disappearing beyond the horizon, and you fit yourself against his side as he turns on the TV.

“I’ve got a few DVDs,” he says, his voice soft as he slide his arm around your shoulder. You tuck a little bit closer, slinging an arm around his waist. “But there’s usually something on.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you reply, resting your head in the curve of his neck.

After a bit of channel surfing, he lands on some movie you’ve never heard of, right at the opening credits. It’s some action thing — not your favourite, but you weren’t lying when you said it didn’t matter — full of cheesy lines and special effects. Joel seems a little entranced, eyes glued to the screen, but his hand walks up and down your upper arm as he watches, fingers dragging lightly to the point where it nearly tickles.

Thirty minutes in, you cuddle a little closer, feeling nearly drunk off the warmth radiating from him, his now-familiar scent making your insides melt. He adjusts his grip on you, fitting you closer, and you slip your hand under the hem of his t-shirt, sighing quietly when you feel his bare skin.

“Y’good?” he grumbles out, lips pressed to the crown of your head. His palm slides down your shoulder, glancing over your ribs before squeezing your hip.

“Mmm,” you mumble back, turning and rubbing your cheek against his chest. “Comfy.”

He lets out a little chuckle, and his attention flicks back to the movie. It doesn’t last long however, and before you know it, his hand has matched yours, sneaking under your shirt, drawing shapes along the small of you back with his fingers. It feels good, and after a while, you can’t take it anymore, tilting your head back on his shoulder, finding him looking back at you.

You murmur his name, and his brow lifts slightly.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Kiss me.”

And he does. Hell, does he ever.

A bit of shuffling, and he pulls your legs up with one hand behind your knees, until you’re basically across his lap. His mouth is warm against yours, an almost insistence on your part as he bands one arm around your shoulders, keeping you close, the other sliding around your waist, up the back of your shirt, palm splayed in the centre of your spine. You move your hand up to his jaw, his beard scratching against your skin, sighing into his mouth as he kisses you. It’s almost too gentle, his brow furrowed slightly as you lean into him.

You can’t take it, after a few minutes, and adjust yourself, sliding down into his lap. He puts both hands under your shirt, those thick fingers pressing against your ribs, and you tug at his hair, tilting his head back against the couch so you can kiss him harder. He grunts, nipping at your bottom lip, and you drop your hips, rolling your body against his. You feel like you’re on fire, threading your fingers through his soft curls, licking the moans out of his mouth.

You want more.

Joel pulls you down, moving his grip from your ribs to your waist, his hips lifting to meet yours, making you gasp with surprise as a shock of pleasure shoots through you. He slides his hand into the back of your jeans, squeezing your ass through the denim. “S-shit,” he stutters against your mouth, his lips parted, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You collapse slightly, arching your back to push your ass more firmly into his grip. He squeezes again. “Feel good? Tell me if y—”

You cut him off with another searing kiss, your chest pressed to his, knees snug against his hips. “So good,” you breathe out when you come up for air, dragging your nose along the curve of his. “Take me upstairs?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and his voice is thick, deep and gravelly.

You both get to your feet, standing almost awkwardly in front of the couch before he lifts a hand, pinches your chin and tilts your face to his. His thumb reaches up, rubs across your bottom lip.

“Where you been hidin’, huh?” he asks, lips twitching as he kisses you softer still.

You squeak as he sweeps you into his arms, latching yours around his neck as he carries you out of the living room, towards the stairs in the kitchen that lead to the second floor. It’s dark, and it takes your eyes a second to adjust, curling yourself into his chest when he turns where the hall splits, bringing you into his bedroom. Moonlight pours through the open window, casting shadows across the unmade bed.

“S’kind of a mess,” he grumbles, and you shake your head, rubbing your thumb along the base of his neck. You lean up a bit, pressing your mouth to the hinge of his jaw. He walks towards the bed, letting you down slowly, and you scoot to the edge, pushing your knees apart as he steps between them.

“Don’t care,�� you tell him, reaching up to grip the hem of his t-shirt. “Just want you.”

Joel takes your face in his hands, thumbs swiping across your cheeks, and bends to kiss you. There’s something else behind it now, something hungry and almost desperate, similar to the feeling brewing in your own chest. He grunts quietly as he sinks to his knees, and you keep your grip on his t-shirt as he moves, lifting it up his sides until he pulls away just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it over his shoulder.

You hum quietly, one hand glancing down his chest, revelling in the warmth of his golden skin, now fully on display. His muscles twitch against your touch, and he hooks his hands behind your knees, pulling your legs either side of him. You groan his name when his face fits against your throat, scruffy jaw scraping against sensitive skin. You can’t stop touching him, tracing out his shape with your fingers, mapping out the different curves of his body.

He makes quick work of the buttons on your shirt, and you let it slid off your shoulders, baring yourself to him. His tongue rides the slope of your collarbone, a soft kiss pressed to the hollow of your throat. You toss your head back, revelling in the feel of him as he lets his mouth ride lower, between your breasts, mouthing at the curve.

“Joel,” you breathe, curling your knuckles in the crown of his head, moaning as he sucks a bruise into the swell of your breast, fingers hooked into the cup of your bra. You arch your back, pushing your chest out. He grins against you, pulling the cup down and watching you spill out of it, thumb lifting to stroke your nipple. A moment later, his lips are wrapped around it, the slight suction making your legs tighten around his hips. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs, accent thick as anything, eyes fluttering as he tastes your skin. “Tell me what you need.”

You tug on his hair, detaching him from you, turning your lust-blown eyes on his. “More.”

He’s on his feet in a flash, and you reach out, grabbing for his belt buckle, grinning at his sharp inhale when you unhook it with ease, leaning in to suck at the thin skin over his hipbone as you let his jeans drop, one hand curling around to squeeze at his ass. He growls, and a gentle push to your shoulders sending your sprawling back on the mattress. He leans over you, kicking his jeans away, and plants his fists either side of your hips.

Dragging his mouth down the middle of your stomach, he flicks the button on your jeans, and you lift your hips as he peels them off, getting to his knees again as he untangles the fabric from your ankles. He makes a grumbling noise that sounds almost like a question, and you prop yourself up on your elbows as he reaches for your leg, his fingers warm around your calf. He lifts your leg slowly, eyes on your ankle.

“Is that a butterfly?” he asks, and your cheeks go hot, chewing your lip as he swipes his thumb over the tattoo. He gives you an almost shit-eating grin, lifting your leg onto his shoulder, turning his head and nipping at your skin. “S’cute.”

He pulls your ass right to the edge of the bed, dragging his mouth past your knee and along the inside of your thigh as you move. Your breath hitches in your throat as he moves higher, bending your thigh up beside his ear, letting his teeth scrape against the elastic of your underwear. He nearly moans into the black lace, nipping at the fabric and letting it snap back against your skin, making you silently thank yourself for your choice in underwear.

“Take these off?” he murmurs the question, dark eyes flashing up at you from his place between your legs. Your whole body feels like it’s vibrating, every caress of his hands or soft brush of his hot breath making your nerves racket higher, that coil deep inside already growing tight. You nod, and he reaches for your other leg, lifting it the same, and slides his hand under you, pulling the waist of your underwear over your ass and then yanking the fabric up your legs.

You bite back your gasp as you’re bared completely to him, still spilling out of your bra, hastily shrugging out of it as he spreads your legs with both hands, palms wrapped around your thighs.

“Fuckin’ christ,” he grits out, hot kisses smattered along the backs of your legs, your muscles twitching as he gets closer to where you want him — need him. “Look at you.”

The moan that falls out of you must sound almost pained, because Joel freezes, hands squeezing your legs lightly, lifting his head completely, which just makes you moan again.

“Baby,” he says softly, and you lift your head just enough to meet his eyes. “You need to slow down, or—”

“Nuh-uh,” you groan, shaking your head, reaching down to cup his cheek in your palm. “Just want you so bad.”

His teeth are a flash of white in the dark as he grins, and lowers himself again. He pauses again, making you want to rip your hair out at the root, and meets your eyes. “You don’t have to be quiet, y’know,” he says. “S’just us.”

When his tongue swipes through you, you nearly scream. His mouth is hotter than sin, lips a soft drag after the heat and wetness. You’re dripping, and you can feel it, thighs already going tight around his ears, keeping him in place.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you cry, burying your hands in his hair, shoulders arching against his bedsheets. “Oh my god.”

He hums against you, the vibration of the sound sending shockwaves through you. You’re embarrassingly close already, and you know it, but you don’t care, moaning his name again and again until the echo bounces off his bedroom walls.

Joel pushes your thighs back, bending you in half, burying his tongue deep as his nose grazes against your clit. He’s nearly half on the bed with you now, licking up everything you have to give. It’s blinding, the pleasure he’s working over you, making your eyes roll back in your head. You cry out again when he moves his mouth up, sucks your clit between his lips. You can feel his eyes on your face, your neck strained and your head tossed back, and when he pauses again, making your chest heavy as your orgasm dances out from under your feet, you lift your head.

“Joel?”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he murmurs, turning his head and pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Y’just look so damn good like this.”

The sentiment makes your heart race harder in your chest, but before you can get a response out, he’s wetting two fingers on his tongue, sucking at your clit again and pressing both digits knuckle deep inside you. You actually shout, his name drawn out as you cum hard, clenching down on his fingers and flooding them, your clit pulsing between his lips.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel.”

He licks you through it, fingers stroking at your walls, pushing you further up the bed until he’s basically laying between your legs, his other hand still holding your thigh bent to your chest. You keep one hand in his hair, the other fisted in the sheets beside you.

When you push at his shoulder, the aftershocks and oversensitivity almost too much, he relents, pulling his fingers from you slowly before licking them clean. The sight is filthy, the way his tongue pokes between his knuckles, and you grab his forearm, dragging him up the bed with you until you’re face to face again.

His mouth tastes like you, tangy and mixed with the taste of him, so familiar to you now. He hauls you close again, collecting your limbs in his grip. Your leg hooks over his him, foot curled around his calf, and your hips roll against him of their own accord, feeling his hard cock prodding against your bare core, still covered by his boxers. He’s got both arms around you, and you slide yours under his, gripping his shoulders as his tongue pushes past your teeth.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs into your mouth, kisses moving down your jaw, your head tipping back again when he mouths at your pulse. “Taste so fuckin’ good.”

There’s a blissed out smile on your face, and you grind against him again, no doubt leaving a wet patch on his boxers. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life, and it only doubles when he groans in your ear.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gotta feel you.”

You nod, almost frantic, adjusting yourself against the pillows as he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking open the drawer.

And then, “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I don’t have condoms,” he admits, and you can feel the way his entire body deflates. He shoves the drawer shut with a bang, moving himself over you. Your legs spread to accommodate him, and neither of you can help the way you chase each other, him dragging his covered cock through your folds. It makes the both of you groan. “I can go to the store,” he grumbles, lowering his face to the crook of your neck. His closeness makes you feel warm all over again, and you wrap your arm around him, holding him against you. He kisses your pulse. “Somethin’ must still be open, or—”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, not missing the way he tenses at the admission. “And I’m clean, if you’re worried about that.”

He pulls back, staring down at you, his face half-illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. “You…you’d let me…?”

You can’t help your smile, lifting your hips into his. “I trust you, Joel.”

It makes him ravenous.

He kisses you so hard sparks form behind your eyes, moaning into his kiss when his covered cock taps your clit. You’re both desperate, you reaching down to shove his boxers over his ass, him nearly gasping when you curl your hand around him, thumbing at his tip. The whole while, your mouths aren’t far from each other, murmured names and pleases and, “Fuck, baby, you’re so good at that.”

You thought the feeling of his mouth on you was already intense, but when he pushes his thick cock into you, slowly, inch-by-inch, filling you to the brim before he’s pulling out slightly, it’s fucking earth-shattering. You’re not responsible for the noises that spill out of you, your jaw hinged open and your forehead pressed to his cheek.

“Fuckin’ christ,” he bites out, one hand lifting to grip his headboard, using it as leverage. You’ve got a death grip on his hips, your eyes trained on the space between you, the way he’s filling you, how you’re split around his cock. “Y’good, baby?”

“So fucking good,” you nearly whine in response, and he gives you a hard thrust that has your back arching, a high-pitched moan falling out of you.

He wraps his other arm around your shoulders, bringing you close, kissing the corner of your jaw. “Don’t wanna break you.”

“You can’t,” you tell him, and he pulls back to stare at you, a hungry look in his eye, lips parted. “You can be rough with me; I can take it.” You punctuate your words with a lift of your hips, driving him deeper, and Joel growls.

He grips the headboard tighter, and you’re clinging to him as he picks up the pace, driving into you hard, his cock hitting something so devastating you’re nearly shaking with pleasure. His other hand is planted beside your head, and when he looks down at you, eyes dark and heady, you reach for his wrist, pulling at his hand until it’s wrapped around the base of your throat. His brow twitches, understanding in his eyes, and you cum a second time when he squeezes lightly, not enough to cut off your air, just enough to make you gasp.

The room is filled with the sound of skin-on-skin, and he rides you through your second orgasm like he had the first, but you refuse to push him away this time. “Joel,” you groan out, and he lets go of the headboard, catching himself on his hand before he drops his weight on you. His pace is faltering slightly, your knees still spread wide, everything in you hot and relaxed, but tingling every time he pulls out, until just the tip sits inside, driving back in a second later, filling you so completely your chest aches with the feeling. “Baby, please.”

“Wha—?” he grunts, and you can feel the shudder that wracks through him, his eyes screwed shut as he starts to reach his own peak. “Shit,” he bites out, and buries his face in the curve of your jaw, his hand still around your throat, grip relaxing almost completely as he cums deep in you. It’s warmth you’ve never felt before — not like this, not this intensely — and the way he murmurs your name nearly makes you cum again. You just hold him through it, your heels hooked around his legs, keeping him in place, turning your head to pepper his face with kisses as his breathing turns heavy, a quiet whine on his lips as he almost collapses into you.

You let out a low oomph as he lowers his weight onto you, and he lifts his head, worry on his face, but you shush him, pushing his head back into your collar. His hand moves from your throat down to your side, curling around your ribs, a hot kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw.

You lay there for a long time, in the dark, lit only by the moonlight. Time ticks by on the alarm clock on his nightstand, but you barely notice. After catching your breath, you reluctantly disentangle from each other, you swiping one of Joel’s shirts up off the floor and disappearing into the bathroom down the hall.

When you come back, he’s sprawled on the bed still, his eyes shut, snoring softly. You climb onto the bed carefully, and once you’re close enough, he slides his head into your lap, puts his arms around your waist. You run your hands through his hair, over and over until it’s sticking up in every direction, making you giggle. He hums in response, pushing his head into your stomach.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he grumbles, nosing at the material.

“I am,” you reply, and he turns over, sprawled on his back, staring up at you. “I’m thinking about stealing it, if I’m honest. Smells like you.”

“You look much better in it,” he tells you, and you grin, bending in half to kiss his lips. He reaches up and curls his hand around the back of your neck, keeping you in place, and you whine a little, skimming one hand down his chest, digging your nails in at his hip.

“I should go,” you mumble, and he groans, brow pinching when you pull back slightly. “It’s almost midnight, I’m sure Sarah wants to sleep in her own bed tonight.”

He groans, nodding in agreement. “She’ll kick my ass if I don’t go get her.”

You both get dressed slowly. When you go to shrug off the flannel you’d swiped, Joel stops you, tugging you in front of him, doing up the buttons one by one.

“I meant it,” he tells you, dragging his nose along your cheek as he finishes the buttons, knocking his knuckles under your chin. He tilts your face up, and places the most tender kiss on your lips, so soft you have to try your hardest not to collapse back into him. “Looks much better on you.” He pauses, rubs his thumb over your lower lip when you pout slightly. “Wish you could stay.”

“Me too,” you agree, sighing against him as he wraps his arms around you, hugs you close. “Another time.”

He nods against the top of your head, mouth against your hair. “Another time.”

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers

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morallyinept · 2 months

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A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 4 - PLEASE HOLD TO MY HAND

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water. Back in the day. We’d drive ten, twelve hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.

Pretty much nowhere.

It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid… travels against gravity, because pressure-

I know it works. No wanderin’.

Jesus.

No.

Feel free to wait in the truck.

__________________

Yeah, they used to stick big ass ploughs on ‘em and clear the roads for their tanks and such.

You will. Tanks, choppers. All that stuff. Built to fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.

This is actually before my time.

It’s a winner though.

Oh, man.

Oh. No, no, no. Put that back. That’s not for kids.

Please!

Please get rid of it.

Uhh… the-

__________________

Alright. That’s enough for today.

__________________

Slow down.

That is twenty year-old Chef Boyardee Ravioli.

I actually agree.

I figure I sleep tonight and drive tomorrow, all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.

Now, why am I gonna tell you “no”?

No, fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for infected anyway.

They’ll have way more in mind than that.

__________________

Well, that would be Frank’s then.

What?

Yeah.

'Cause he was outstanding in his field.

No. Now go to sleep.

No-one’s gonna find us.

__________________

You don’t like coffee?

__________________

Theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but yeah, this is what they sold.

Eyes on the map.

Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody.

Yeah.

Then... odds are he’ll be near a settlement. Probably close to another city. Ain’t too many of ‘em in Wyoming.

Cheyenne.

Whose name?

Tommy.

Younger.

Long story.

Tommy’s what we used to call a “joiner”. Dreams of becomin’ a hero. So he enlists in the Army right outta high school. A few months later they ship him off to Desert Storm. It’s what they called that war. Doesn’t matter. Point is, bein’ in the Army didn’t make him feel much like a hero. Cut to twelve years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did… mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. It’s where we met Tess.

And that whole crew, we uh… Well, for it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks in him to joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen. Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of ‘em… delusional. Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he’s on his own out there, and… I gotta go get him.

You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep goin’ for family. That’s about it.

No… You’re cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.

I will.

I’m persistent.

You got up pretty early if you wanna grab more sleep.

__________________

Stay put.

Kansas City.

Screw it.

We can jog right around this tunnel, take the next ramp, then we’re back on the road, a minute tops.

__________________

Where the fuck is the highway?

Don’t look at the state map, look at the inset.

It’s gotta be the right… What the fuck?

Put your seatbelt on.

No.

Fuck!

Are you okay?

You’re not hurt or nothin’?

Belts off! Fast!

Hey, you see that hole? Can you squeeze through?

When I say go, you crawl through to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?

And they’re not gonna hit you. Look at me! They’re not gonna hit you. You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet!

Okay. Okay. Go!

__________________

God.

Get back behind the wall.

Ellie. I gotta get in there, I can’t fit through.

Well, can you move it?

Let’s go. Fast.

We go up.

Hopefully we spot a clear route out.

Stay close.

__________________

People.

For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.

Yeah. Saw it.

As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.

I’m alright. Are you alright?

Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy comin’ and… you shouldn’t have had to, you know?

You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to… It’s not like you killed him. But, shootin’ or… I know what it’s like. First time that you, uh, hurt… someone like that. If you, uh… w… I’m not good at this.

I mean, it was my fault. You shouldn’ta had to. And I’m sorry.

Show me your grip. Finger off the trigger. Now who taught you that?

Figures. Thumb, over your thumb. Left hand… squeezes down on the right. You got it? There you go. Lookit.

Okay?

Uh-uh. You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.

We’ll get through this.

__________________

You’re just gonna put your foot here. One, two…

Straighten up. I got you.

Take a look around first. Ellie! Goddamn it.

By now, Wyoming.

Alright. We’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.

Forty-five. But no, not all the way.

As far as I can make it.

I’ve been on both sides. It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.

And the people we were with. My brother, too.

Come on.

Yeah.

It’s gonna have to be.

Give me a minute.

“Lazy ass.” I'm fifty-six years old, you little shit.

__________________

What?!

I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleeping.

Of course, I’ll hear it. That’s the damn point.

Yeah, goodnight.

Hey.

When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people… what did you mean it wasn’t your first time?

Alright. You don't have to. I’m just sayin’... it isn’t fair. Your age, havin’ to deal with all of this.

No, not really. But still…

Probably more from shootin’. So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.

Hm?

What?

Jesus.

That is so Goddamn stupid.

I didn’t laugh.

Jesus, I’m losin’ it.

Go to sleep.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller dialogue #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character dialogue

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loveofmyknife · 5 months

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Live Blogging the Burrow’s end finale but it’s all in one post because I can’t be bothered to reblog the same post 10 times. So like… pre-recorded blogging I guess

Spoilers. Obviously.

- loving the finale outfits! Especially the caution tape accessories!

- hey girl hey! Poor Teedles is taking all of this very well and we love them for it. I too would rather face possible death than have to babysit my boss’s children

- someone really should go check on Simon

- love how Tula is advocating for a nonviolent solution and ends it with “and we should definitely track down and murder Phoebe”. It’s nonviolent except for one specific person (being?)

- Lucas is just doing his best as a congested little boy. Somebody get him some mint! (Bint)

- “oh, mommy has so much bloodlust!” is an excellent line

- again, Brennan is unhinged, and also maybe wearing pink lipstick, which I think adds to the vibe

- Thorn being concerned for Dr Steel is so indicative of his character. He just wants to protect his people, and even though they’ve only known this human for a few hours, she is one of his people

- I DID NOT KNOW HE COULD DO THAT

- love a good title drop, but this plan seems very hastily put together. I am concerned

- persuasion- “-OR ELSE!” … ok intimidation

- gasoline lasts for however long is narratively relevant

- how many stoats does it take to drive a truck? Apparently at least 5

- I mean as far at Nat 1s go operating a gear shift as a rodent makes sense

- viola is holding this group together by sheer force of will

-oh fuck human magic!

- new map! New map!

- Oh fuck “human” NECROMANCY!

-kinda sad that Carlos isn’t playing Wennabocker on the board in some way but it obviously makes sense from a practical standpoint

- the minis!!! So cool!

-“grandma casts sounding” oh no…

- box of doom strikes again

- 40 points of damage is insane

- Lucas no! I love his little hat but no!

- hate when the BBEG rolls a Nat 20

- 69 hp…nice

- not Lucas!!

- oh Tula is never going to forgive herself for this and I have Thoughts about it

- Phoebe really is just a situation at this point

- That is exactly what a 12 year old would say when beating up an eldritch horror

- yeah I’d say hitting the ground really hard is a reckless attack, Ava

-109 damage! Jesus fucking Christ

- oh it’s some eugenics shit, okay

- Dr Steel coming to the rescue!

- I love using a bunch of skills and mechanics to get the desired outcome. Casting a spell, moving out of range of counterspell, and disengaging an opportunity attack all at the same time just to be able to fireball this meat suit

- I also would not recommend hitting a nuclear reactor with fire

- “no that’s okay” was such a power move

- “I DEBONE THAT MOTHERFUCKER” yes you do, and somehow that invents cooking! I love it

- Nat 20! “THATS! MY! WIFE!!!” Viola has taken out 4 giants in a single round. She is a badass. She is a warrior. She is my hero.

- oh yeah, Dr Steel was just standing there for all that

- We may be experiencing a tragedy but at least they’ve also invented ice cream

- LUCAS NO!

- ok yeah i might be sobbing a little, what of it?

- I like that Ava can have a little magic as a treat

- I personally welcome our new stoat overlords

- babies!

-Get it, Tula! But seriously I like that she really got to process life without being just a widow and a mother before moving on

-baby’s first word: viscera. This is cannon

-Ava’s doing great, and her life is in her own hands. She’s completely overhauling the local law enforcement and creating triple A

- Dr Lila! She’s a nuclear physicist now!

- Did not expect Jaysohn to go for an Airbud plot line but I’m not mad at it

Closing thoughts: I loved it! I think the ending was pretty abrupt but taking out the BBEG in like 2 rounds will do that so I can’t fault them for it. I would have loved for at least one of the party to take over Education, and I think Tula was kind of set up for it but I’m glad she gets to just enjoy life now instead. I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s Adventuring Party and I’m super excited about next season!

#d20 #burrow's end #burrows end spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 burrow's end

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nerdygaymormon · 11 months

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Matthew 25:1-13 - Parable of the 10 Virgins

Something about this parable and how we teach it has always felt off to me. We tell this story as one of scarcity. We teach the story as though the bridegroom doesn’t have enough grace for all of us.

That doesn’t fit with a Jesus who turned 5 loaves of bread and 2 fishes into enough to feed 5000 people and even had leftovers. The gospel is one of abundance, there’s enough blessings for all.

My church often teaches that this is a story about the Last Days. We need to carefully work hard to squirrel away enough oil over our lifetime and guard it because we can’t share with others and they can’t share with us. Nobody can share their testimonies with us, we have to gather our own. If that’s the case, then why do we gather together to worship, why is the Sacrament a communal activity, why do we have a monthly testimony meeting at church?

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For a refresher, here’s the parable as relayed in the King James Version:

1 Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 2 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 3 They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: 4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5 While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 6 And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. 7 Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. 9 But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. 11 Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 12 But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.

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I like the way that Nadia Bolz-Weber updates this parable to our modern day:

It feels like Jesus is saying the Kingdom of God is like a bad dream where I’m supposed to go pick someone important up from the airport like . . . Dolly Parton, but I forget to fill my gas tank and then I’m idling outside baggage claim for so long I doze off and then when Dolly Parton finally texts she’s almost there, my car starts beeping that it’s nearly out of gas but then I realize the dude in front of me has a gas can strapped in the back of his monster truck and I ask if he can help me out but he just points to the overpriced gas station outside the airport and in a panic I use the fumes in my tank to get there but then when I’m filling up my Subaru I see Dolly Parton drive off in the passenger side of the dude’s F150 and she doesn’t even return my wave - like she doesn’t even know me.

So stay alert. The kingdom of God is like that.

Nadia follows this with questions, what are we supposed to learn from this story:

That we should not rely on others? That we should not give to those who ask of us? I mean, that would be weird wouldn’t it, if Jesus just suddenly took back everything he said about generosity and self-giving and instead gave us a parable about how we should be stingy and self-reliant?

—————————

Nadia provides an alternative interpretation to the story. The bridesmaids are foolish, not because they didn’t bring extra oil or because they fell asleep, but because they listened to the other bridesmaids. Some of the ‘wise’ bridesmaids said you can only greet the groom if you’ve already met your needs. Those foolish ones are made to feel ashamed.

The foolish bridesmaids didn’t trust that the light of those around them could be enough to guide them. Light from a lamp doesn’t only shine for the person holding it. Others can see the light and can see the path being illuminated. Yes, if everyone had their own light then they could see better, but it doesn’t mean only those with the light can see and everyone else is blinded by darkness.

If you had light and another didn’t, wouldn’t you offer to have them walk with you and let your light guide the way? And wouldn’t we want someone to do that for us if our light ran out?

The person who cried out that the bridegroom is coming, how did they know this? The bridegroom must have a lamp which could be seen from afar. The foolish ones didn’t trust that the light of Christ was enough. They didn’t believe the groom would offer to hold out his light where they could see it.

In an effort to fix their situation, they missed the wedding banquet. Is the bridegroom calling them foolish because they listened to the other bridesmaids and doubted him and his goodness?

The bridegroom said “I know you not,” because they hadn’t come to him with their situation but rather wanted to be independent of him. Are we too busy trying to be self reliant that we don’t have time for Christ?

————————————————————

The part of the parable that really cuts is when they are knocking on the door and the person inside says “I know you not.” Do we really think someone who is seeking Christ will be turned away?

These aren’t people who can’t be bothered, they aren’t off engaged in other questionable activities. These are folks who show up and have a lamp FULL of oil, they’re where they are supposed to be because they are seeking the groom.

Someone shows up to church and is willing, is seeking, is following, and Christ is going to turn them away?

The focus is on what they are lacking. We all are lacking, is that what we should focus on, that we aren’t good enough for Christ, He won’t want to see us?

Maybe the parable is saying instead of trying to solve everything on their own, if the foolish bridesmaids approached the groom, he could’ve solved this, that he can meet our shortcomings.

They didn’t have faith that the bridegroom would let them in if they didn’t provide their own oil. They didn’t believe he would welcome them to the feast. Instead they believed the groom had no mercy or grace to offer them.

The way I’ve always heard this parable taught, we believe the assumptions presented by the bridesmaids without questioning if this is really what the groom requires.

—————————

We are all sinners, we all fall short of perfection, none of us can save ourselves no matter how much “oil” we’ve gathered. In the parable, they all are awaiting the bridegroom with lamps full of oil and are looking for him. As they wait, all of the bridesmaids fell asleep.

When the call came, they all responded to the call that the bridegroom is approaching by trimming their lamps, but they’ve waited so long for the groom that their lamps go out.

I wonder if having our lamp go out is akin to when people face hard things in life and their faith falters, or to having some doubts. Everyone deals with hard things.

Those with extra oil refill their own lamps and tell the others that they won’t share and to go away and solve their own problems. In the LDS Church, we might use the phrase to go be “self reliant.”

When the ‘foolish’ bridesmaids show up to the banquet, the door is closed. The parable doesn’t indicate who closed it. It does not say that the bridegroom closed the door, locking everyone else out. It never is taught that the groom is keeping them away. In fact, the bridegroom wanted them to be part of the procession and to attend the banquet, they were invited guests.

Rather than a parable of hope in the ability of the Lord to save, I usually hear it presented as a fear-based warning that you better not be a ‘foolish’ one who wasn’t prepared and didn’t do enough.

I think we are all foolish in the exact same way as the foolish ones in this parable. They fell for the belief that they were lesser and not wanted, and then they leave. The “wise ones” made the others feel this way. My experience is it’s other believers, other church goers, who act as gatekeepers and make us feel ashamed that we fall short.

It’s not included in this parable, but I think the promise that the first shall be last and the last shall be first should be a warning to the “wise ones.” How would they want to be treated if they were “last,” and they should start treating everyone that way because one day you may be last.

————————————————————

Why are Christians commanded to worship together? Why is community so important? Nobody can do this all on their own. We need to borrow oil. We need the light given by another’s lamp. If we only provide for ourselves, what is the point of building a community?

————————————————————

My queer application is that I think most Christians would view queer believers as “foolish” and we need to go away and get ourselves fixed and in line with how they think we should be, only then are we welcome to come back. They think queer people won’t be invited to the great banquet of the Lord.

Do we listen to those who say Christ’s blessings aren’t enough and queer people will be excluded? Do we believe there’s no mansions awaiting us in heaven? Do we believe God made us queer and then rejects us for being queer?

It is no wonder most queer people leave the church. It’s a place full of rejecting messages to queer people. The gospel is often not presented as good news but instead as a way to clobber queer people.

#nadia bolz-weber #queer scriptures #long post

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lizardsfromspace · 1 month

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America's Justice TV, Episode #5643, 4/17/20XX

Broadcasting from the gorgeous, warm ocean beaches of Pennsylvania, the latest criminal cases - where YOU, the beautiful television viewers of the Holy Democratic States of America, are the jury!

JUDGE: *banging gavel* So Mr. Perry, you stand accused of running over Mr. Gross' seven year old daughter with the treads of your Ford® Heavy-Duty® SuburbaTank®, MSRP just 15 million at participating dealerships, how do you plead?

MR. PERRY: *laughing* If driving eighty tons of gleaming American steel is a crime, then I'm guilty. But last I checked, this is still America.

JUDGE: Yes - and now it's time for America to vote! *drums, music, flashing lights* The vote is in, and the America's Justice TV Viewer Verdict Brought To You By Krispy Kreme is...not guilty!

MR. PERRY: *laughing* Thank God.

MR. GROSS: He - he murdered my daughter! He-!

JUDGE: *banging gavel* Quiet down, Mr. Gross. As you know, a not guilty vote of over 75% triggers the Reverse Case, where the accuser is now the accused. This was a decisive victory. So now, Mr. Gross - you're facing America's Justice TV! *music, drums*

MR. GROSS: This is idiotic. What am I guilty of -

MR. PERRY: Ain't reckless pedestrianism a crime? And that daughter of yours should've known better than to think a crosswalk was safe.

MR. GROSS: But -

JUDGE: That's right - why weren't you ferrying her across the street in a big, beautiful car? Do you even own a SuburbaTank® or *he laughs* a SuburbaTankForHer®? Or a Coal-Rollin' MegaCruiser®? Don't answer that - it's time for America to vote! *drums, music, flashing lights* And the vote is in! Mr. Gross is guilty of encouraging fatal pedestrianism!

MR. GROSS: This is -

JUDGE: And contempt of court! Now, America, it's time to decide his fate with the America's Justice TV Viewer Sentence Brought To You By Dunkin'. *drums, music, flashing lights* And for the fifty six hundred and forty-third episode in a row, America has chosen death! Now to decide the method with the America's Justice TV Viewer's Choice Method of Death Brought To You By Boeing. *intense drums* This week it's lethal injection! *cutaway to dancing audience members* Yes, lots of love for lethal injection in the house tonight!

MR. GROSS: You're all -

*hard cut to a screen saying "OUR DAILY PRAYER" beside folded hands*

JUDGE: *standing in front of a US flag with a cross behind the stars, and paintings of Jesus and Donald Trump with crowns of thorns* Lord, no matter how despicable we may find pedestrians, please forgive him of his sin. We are simply your instruments of justice, defending our beautiful country and its beautiful trucks from anyone who would dare to harm them, but we must love our enemy with peace and grace...next up on AmericaTV, it's a very special and inspirational episode of Border Wipeout, as a child sick with cancer gets his wish - to make a obstacle for the southern border obstacle course - and you'll never believe how many invaders he takes out with it! *a woman in tattered clothes falling in a watery hole and sinking as a laugh track plays* Coming up next! Don't change the channel! Because there aren't any others!

#writing #long post #unreality cw #tbh i started with the image of someone praying guilty to owning a big truck and worked backwards

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rreskk · 1 year

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Can you make a Father figure!Trevor x De Santa!Reader, where the reader somehow ended up with Trevor after Prologue and has lived with him ever since?

A/N: Thank you for this request. I'd never thought of this before and was fun trying to write Trevor being a father figure :)

Summary: After Michael's 'death', you had found yourself in the hands of Mr Philips.

“Hey! Hey! I brought that yesterday!” Trevor rushed to your side as you poured the last amount of chocolate pops. You may have eaten the last of it, but Trevor ate most of it.

“You had 4 bowls last night.” You remarked while fishing out the milk but he remained stern.

“Money don’t grow on trees, when will you learn, Townley?”

You sighed at his tone, but more or less, you sighed at the use of your last name. Your dad, Michael, had gone. One day, Trevor found himself sobbing into your arms, failing to explain how he lost Michael. You were 6 years old and memories of your dad were already slowly hazing away… But certain vivid flashbacks sends you spiralling into grief.

Trevor has been helpful, well, tried to be. If he wasn’t already crying himself to sleep, he’d be more emotionally available, but you are glad he has taken you for his own. If Trevor weren’t around or forgot about you, then you’d be homeless and fucked.

“Listen,” He began, noticing your lack of activity in the past week. “Let’s go out shopping together, ay? You ain’t seen the sun in days.”

The idea itself sounded practical and nice. You nodded your head.

“Good, good. Grab your shoes, I’ll be in the truck.”

Trevor left your side to assert well divided privacy and you walked into his bedroom, searching through your part of the wardrobe to retreat some shoes.

Although you were aware of Trevor’s source of money, being crime and drugs, you could sense the lack of control he had on it. You both were still slumped in this trailer. The sofa had officially become your bed. Trevor made sure it was comfortable for you, purchasing blankets and fluffy pillows after he claimed the bedroom for ‘male purposes’. If he had used his money for good then this trailer could have been a mansion with giant swimming pools and games rooms.

You could hear him honk outside, his raspy voice impatiently shouting your name.

“Jesus! Hurry up!”

The moment you climbed into the back of the truck, he flew the vehicle out of the driveway and began racing down the roads. You stumbled at the high speed, grunting whenever he took a sharp turn.

“Hold tight, kid. We’re approaching a bump.” Trevor alarmed from the front, hitting the gas.

Time wasn’t an option and with the lack of stability, you hovered an felt gravity throw you aside, hitting the edge where Trevor began cackling.

“I told you!” He pinpointed, gazing through his windshield.

You sent him a tight glare. “Maybe you should follow the laws for once.”

He shook his head and held out his tongue, a playful gesture to deny your ‘nerdy’ comments.

“Make sure you don’t hold the cashier at gunpoint again!” You decided to escalate the conversation.

“He got bitchy first.” Trevor muttered.

You huffed. “He got bitchy because you were bitchy.”

“Hey!” He yelled. “You are acting more like your father every damn day… Calm it, little Townley.”

His voice sounded bitter but you fought against it and leaned forward so you had the view of the journey ahead, having the view of Trevor driving as well.

“I thought you were going to change my name to Philips.”

He shrugged. “It’s disrespectful to your father. It sounded good at the time.”

You nodded your head and climbed into the front of the truck, snapping your seatbelt on and began changing the radio stations.

Trevor squinted his eyes when his punk music suddenly turned off, being replaced by some 70s rock. It reminded him of Michael and he bluntly came to a stop. You gasped at the eruptive pause.

“This is my truck, ay?” He chewed out. “You can’t change the damn station, you get it?”

You crossed your eyebrows. “But I like rock music.”

Trevor ignored the traffic building up behind him.

“I like punk. It’s either punk or silence.”

“Fine. Put on your… Punk then.” You exclaimed.

He started to drive again and his station was back on. You could only play with your fingers or people watch from your window. You were limited whenever Trevor was in a sketchy mood. He never physically harmed you but he had threatened you before, and it left a mark on you, mentally. Trevor never forgave himself afterwards.

He pulled into a semi filled carpark and parked the truck. The grocery store was quiet as for a normal day. You observed the scenery when Trevor gave you a little nudge, trying to lighten up the mood. His body limby leaving the seat and smirk staining his face.

You smiled at his jokey demeanour.

He was your father figure after all! You can’t miss a beat without his musty ass.

#trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #trevor gta #michael townley #michael de santa #gta v #grand theft auto #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto 5 #gta fanfiction #trevor philips fanfiction

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steve0discusses · 1 year

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Ep 44 Pt 2: Name Hunt

We start this half of the episode at the card game that is currently just kinda stalled. It’s more like a D+D session at this point, where everyone is separated, random enemies are appearing in random rooms, and their biggest issue is that they were balanced to work as a team, and as a solo fight they’re gonna freakin die.

Or Bjork will come back in the time it takes for the team to reassemble.

Sorry his name isn’t Bjork, it’s Korn. Or...well it’s something from the 90′s. Zork. It was Zork. But with a c. Bjorc Necrophades.

So as Yami dumps on Bakura about how boring this game is for him, Bakura reminds him that because Pharaoh shoved his memory in a puzzle piece, Pharaoh is dumb as a sack of bricks. Which like, relatable.

I STILL don’t quite get it.

I know that Seto kills Yami in the OG timeline, they have been saying that for 4 seasons. But if Yami had to put himself in that puzzle to put back Zorc...does this imply that the fight with Seto was to resurrect Zorc? that Seto was a pawn of Bakura even in the original timeline?

Wait is that it?

(read more under the cut)

Have I finally figured out the paradox that’s been bothering me all season, where before it looked like Yami died 2 separate ways in two separate timelines? I mean, while I am much better (not fully, hence the slow update schedule but am getting much better) Long covid for like an entire year removed so much of my memory, that I was able to play Undertale again like it was the first time. Which is incredible because it’s the most memed game and y’all, I forgot nearly every line that Sans said. Which I’m not gonna lie, kind of rocks. But also kind of difficult when I’m trying to remember the plot of this show.

Bro did offer to write the blog in my stead, but when he attempted to use Photoshop he could not figure out how to leave the text editor. Making these caps will one hundred percent crash my computer if he’s doing the driving. Photoshop crashes my computer about 4 times on a normal day, if you don’t know what you’re doing, Photoshop will seal you in a demon dimension before crashing your computer, and yet, still charge you 12 dollars a month. You cannot turn your back on photoshop, just like Zorc.

Anyway, back to the show:

I mean that’s my personal gamble. I will always gamble Tristan on who’s gonna die. And him being Bakura right now is just...ooo ripe to die this season, yeah?

Bakura took a moment to try and remind Yami that this is all a simulation and all of these pieces on the board were in fact not real people, to which Yami reminded Bakura that he himself is a ghost in a box and is only loosely defined as a “real person” himself.

👁👄👁

And then Karim, who’s name I had completely forgotten, so I’m glad the show reminded me, was like “Oh no! I’m dying!” PS he’s been “dying” for like 3 episodes, so I was very surprised he actually fully died.

Like Egypt Grandpa is going to outlast this stack of bricks down there, and that’s like a lot to take in. Modern Grandpa breaks his butt like constantly but Egyptian Grandpa is built like a truck.

Isis was very upset by this, and like I don’t blame her, look at the FEATURES on that man. True tragedy right there to lose that block of cheese right there and just be left with freakin Shada. Who, in case you forgot, has a motorcycle tattoo on his entire forehead. I too would be crying my eyes out, Isis, this is looking grim for you.

It only just now as I was writing this cap realized that when Bakura was like “who would you bet is going to die first?” he wasn’t talking about Yami’s high school friends, but was in fact foreshadowing the truly tragic death of Karim, who I totally remembered the name of.

Anyway, it’s still gonna be Tristan because for real, Karim doesn’t count.

Bit of a baby manger vibe to this shot, not gonna lie. Nice nativity we got going there. Baby jesus, Mary and Joseph, a shepherd, a wise man, and uh...Shadi. Shadi could be an Angel I guess, he isn’t technically alive. There. Print this out and put it above your grandma’s Christmas tree, instant nativity.

Speaking of the kids, Joey was really testing my gamble by walking headfirst into a trap that spits daggers into your feet.

Inside of this maze is step by step the same as the story of the tomb we saw with the hot version of grandpa that opened this arc.

Including this room, where Grandpa got betrayed by a very silly slingshot.

This was the show spoon feeding us Yugi’s character growth, since he was just a barrel of nerves and sinew when we first met this boy. He is braver this season, I will give him that, but it feels like it’s more that he’s the only person who’s fully aware that none of this is real. Yugi is inside of his own mind puzzle. It’s literally the only place he’s got full control (ish).

At the end of this little walk across the fear pit that literally no one here had any problems with (like Tea walked across this narrow fear pit in 5 inch heels!) The little box that carried Pharaoh’s puzzle isn’t here, instead it’s a bunch of Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Reminder that even Season Zero Yugi, who is the most pile of nerves Yugi, would have kicked your ass even without the puzzle. Like this is mostly my own interpretation, but without the puzzle......Yugi would have straight up stabbed that guy, right? Like straight up? Yugi is a menace to society. Sure, he was nervous about having to defend himself, but Yami wasn’t a Pharaoh yet, he was Yugi’s dark side, who was backed into corners so hard by people with literal whips and people with yoyo’s with spikes on the end, he pretty much always had to choose violence in order to survive Freshman year.

Like yes he walked across a bridge without fear. Makes sense, the bridge doesn’t have spike yoyo’s, fire shooting out, a guy holding your girlfriend hostage with a gun at a burger restaurant, and whatever capitalist nightmare Seto has come up with that month. But we can still call this bridge character development, as a treat.

After Joey tricked the switch that opened the garage door to Yami’s secret name, the episode ended.

can’t wait to see Tristan hold up some fingers and have the show convince me it’s a gun.

Anyway, here’s a link to read these from the start, which I keep giving you although I need to reread my own blog myself, haha.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#Yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #YGO #Analysis #screencap #watchwithme #Episode recap #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Yami Muto #Bakura #Theif King Bakura #Tea Gardner #S5 #Ep 44

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queenvidal · 2 years

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The Girl Who Never Cries

Negan x Reader (Rick's Daughter)

(Not my gif - found it on pinterest. If it's urs, contact me for proper credit)

Chapter 5: I Am Negan

Chapter Summary: You have to come face to face with a demon of your past, seducing you to actions you'll most likely regret.

Wordcount: 2314

Notes: I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes or wrong spellings, English isn't my first language. - Part 1 of the The One And Only Series - Takes place during the beginning of season 7.

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

“Home sweet home.” Sasha's joyful voice sounds over the radio. You slowly open your eyes to peer out of the window. A familiar suburb is passing by you. From here it should only be about 20 more minutes until Alexandria comes into view.

With a low grunt you force yourself to sit up right again to stretch yourself. You yawn for a long moment, gaining Daryl's attention. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” you sigh while rubbing your eyes. “You didn’t wake me for the switch.”

“I’m fine”, he explains. “You need the rest more than I.”

After four hours you two would switch places, so the other can sleep and rest a little. Daryl being Daryl, he put your comfort over his, letting you sleep in on your driving shift. You look into the rearview mirror to see Sasha and Carl in the car behind you. Your brother is sleeping himself, his head resting against the window.

The trip was exhausting, you are all tired beyond belief. But it was worth it. Not only is the back of the truck filled to the brim, you also found medications you needed for the cut and your cold. Both got better within the weeks on the road, though you’re still feeling a little tired and weak.

“Jesus, can’t wait to finally hop under a shower.” you murmur, when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the rear mirror. There is not one inch on your body that is not covered by dried blood, except for the left side of your face, of course. You were pernickety about keeping the cut clean. Your new set of clothing is also completely blood-spotted, even your hair is crusty from all the guts you had been wearing for the last few weeks. Same goes for your friends, we must be a sight to behold, you muster.

There is no doubt in your mind that you all are reeking, luckily you lost your sense of smell about two days after you arrived, a welcomed side effect from being covered in rotten flesh non-stop.

You pull out a piece of paper from the pockets of your new and already ruined jeans. There are 23 lines drawn on it. One line for every day you guys were outside. The Saviors' last pick up must have been two days ago, meaning you will have enough time to hide all the stuff you guys found, once you’re back in Alexandria.

“I hope the other team found something in the meantime, we are due over a week,” you speak quietly to Daryl. He just lets out a grunt in return.

Your father must be driving up the walls by now. You definitely would, if one of the teams would be missing that long.

Hopefully they found the drugs Negan wanted. It’s been weeks, but you’re still beating yourself up for what you’ve said, he was so pissed. It’s not like it wasn’t true what you’ve said, you’ve just been stating the obvious, but still.

Negan has a short temper, that's for sure. It’s like walking on eggshells around him and you were stupid enough to step on some. Of course you want to remain on his good side, but oddly enough not only for the obvious reasons. It’s strange but you kind of liked the way he looked at you, almost like he cared.

“Shit, we’re having guests!” Shasha curses over the radio, tearing you away from your thoughts.

Alarmed, you turn in your seat to look behind you. “No way,” you mutter in disbelief. Saviors. Two trucks are following closely behind Sasha.

“Fuck!” You yell, recounting your lines on the paper. “Did we misscount?” You yell, starting to panic. “Did we fucking misscount?!”

“Not by two days!” Daryl hisses, while his eyes switch between the road ahead and the trucks behind. “Fuckers must have been waiting.”

You let your face fall into your hands in despair, all the work for absolutly fucking nothing. That's what you get for provoking Negan, you think to yourself.

Finally Alexandria's tall walls come into view, but instead of relief, you feel terror. What if team A didn’t find anything, what if Tara and Aaron came back with nothing, either? Maybe the Saviors waited for you, because Alexandria was fucking empty. Shit, hopefully no one got killed, if that was the case.

The gates open and all of you drive inside. Many swarm out of the houses but stop dead in their tracks, when they see the black trucks behind you. Daryl pulls over and cuts the engine, Sasha follows behind shortly.

Anxiously you jump out of the truck, your hands shaking. Quickly you scan the crowd that had formed at the parking lot, searching for your father but before you can find him, an all too familiar and hated voice catches your attention.

“Well, well, well. Look who kept us waiting for weeks, guys?”

You turn your head, wrinkling your nose. Dwight, that son of a bitch.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ab? Daryl? Anyone for fuck sake?” You whispered harsly into the radio.

Everything happened so fast. In one moment, you drove with your Mini between Daryl and Sasha and Abraham, with the walker horde following behind. In the other, you found yourself blocked off by trucks with a large number of assholes shooting at you.

With nowhere to go, you jumped out of your car and took off into the woods. Luckily no bullet hit you on your run. Stormtrooper-aim, you thought, when you hid between large bushes.

Whoever was after you run past you, eventually losing their trail, but you waited patiently, just to be sure they were gone. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying on the ground, not moving a muscle. After what felt like a long while, you got up again and searched for the goddamn road. When you ran, you did not pay attention to the direction you were running. The result was you getting lost.

“Guys, are you there?” You tried again, hoping your friends were still within range.

“Y/N, you okay?” You released a sigh of relief at the sound of Daryl's voice.

“Yeah,” You confirmed, looking around. “But lost, they blocked the road and I ran into the woods. No fucking idea where I went. Are you alright?”

“Where are you?” He dodged your question, he was not alright. “What do you see?”

You scrunched your face for a moment and annoyed you replied, “Trees, Daryl. Trees.”

“Are they scorched by any chance?”

Your frown only intensified, “What? No, what are you talk-”

A shrill squeak tore through your throat, when something pierced through your shoulder blade. Before you could react, a large hand covered your mouth and someone tackled you to the ground.

“Where are they?” The man questioned you with his blood-dropping blade pressed against your throat. “Did he send you?”

You had no idea what he was talking about and you absolutely didn’t care. Despite the agonizing pain in your shoulder, you started struggling and managed to hit him in the face. Stunned by your action, he stilled for a moment, allowing you to fight the knife out of his hand.

“Fuck off!” You spat, this idiot must have mistaken you for someone else but you didn't intend on finding out what his fucking problem was. He hit you, making you see stars for a long while. You had no time to recover, because he grabbed your neck and squeezed your windpipe.

The lack of oxygen made you panic and you clawed on his arms and face but it was in all vain, the guy was determined to kill you and too strong for you to fend off, especially with your useless shoulder. After long and tormenting moments, the world around you went dark and your body finally limp.

You must have laid on the ground for at least a day, until Daryl found you. He was injured himself and after you regained consciousness and got your bearings, he told you about the same guy you've met. He attacked Daryl as well but he let him live as a bargaining chip, if he and the women he was with got caught.

Weeks after the incident, you, Daryl, Rosita and Denise went on a run. Everything went pretty well until it didn’t. Denise felt the need to prove herself and just barely survived facing a walker.

After Rosita washed her head for being so careless, Denise broke into a big speech. She was sick and tired of being helpless and useless and confessed she aspired to be as brave and strong as Daryl, as capable and confident as Rosita and as ungodly stubborn and selfless as you were.

You couldn't help but feel sorry, because you had no idea she felt that way. The two of you worked together in the infirmary but never talked about that. Sadly you never would get a chance to do so, because all of the sudden she stuttered and you noticed an arrow sticking out of her eye. She fell forward and you tried to catch her. When you laid her on the ground carefully, you noticed several men approaching.

“Fuck me, I’m seeing a ghost.”

The familiar voice made your head snap up. While one side of his face was havely scared, you still recognized him as the one who almost murdered you in the woods. Slowly you stood up again, your eyes not leaving his.

Eugene was held captive by him, used as a meatshild. The man, Dwight, you later learned, shifted his attention to Daryl. He ordered his men to disarm you, while talking to Daryl. “Well, here we are. Guess you just have to take my word for this but the girl there, I wasn’t actually aiming at her.”

While you tried to stay focused on whatever Dwight was saying, you noticed Ab behind a bunch of barrels. You two exchanged glances, plotting an ambush without words. Eugene noticed as well and kept his eyes trained on you for your signal.

“What's your name, didn’t really catch it last time we’ve met?” Dwight asked you.

You narrowed your eyes at him before hissing, "Next time make sure I'm fucking dead! NOW!" Ab started shooting and before Dwight could have reacted, Eugene bit him in the junk. In the resulting chaos, you and the others grabbed your weapons and started firing as well.

With most of his men dead, Dwight ordered the remaining ones to retreat. He and his men took off, with you and Dayl chasing after them. You launched one of your knives at him, but missed Dwight’s head by only one or two inches. He was lucky that Eugene was injured in the fight, if not for Rossita calling you back, you would have hunted him down until either one of you were dead.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You feel your blood boiling and the speed of your heart beat increasing by the sight of that asshole. Daryl appears close behind you, rediating the same rage. Dwight smiles brightly at you two, enjoying the power he now has.

“Jesus, you two look like shit.” He jokes, while eying you up and down. “You made us wait quite some time, let’s hope it was worth it.”

While you still stand behind your no-killing sentiment, Dwight is the only exception. You will kill him, even if it would kill you, too.

“Don’t,” Daryl whispers in your ear, carefully grabbing your wrist. You have been so focused on Dwight that you didn’t even notice one of your throwing knives resting in your hand.

He orders his men to take a look at your truck and the loaded goods. “Hey, Darly, Y/N? How about you lazy shits help my men unload the truck?”

But neither of you moves. Dwight huffs at your display of disobedience. With large strides he comes closer towards you, stopping right in front of your face. “I’ve just given you a goddamn order.”

You sneer at him, “I don’t take orders from you, only from Negan.”

“I am Negan.” He states defensively.

“You wish.” You whisper with a grin on your face. “You’re no one.”

His face is morphing into a dark grimace and he grabs you by your jacket to push you against your truck. With his knife against your throat, he grunts. “Maybe I should teach you some respect!”

It’s deafeningly quiet in the town and the tension in the air is high.

His eyes are glaring into yours but despite the rather dire situation, you can’t stop a smile from growing on your face. Confusion flickers over his eyes and then you start to giggle and finally to laugh.

Everyone, Alexandrians and Saviors alike, watch the scene unfold in shock, while your laughter's roaring over the place. Once you have to take a breath again, you crook an eyebrow at Dwight, “I’ve been walking among the dead for weeks, do you really think you can frighten me?”

The man is just looking at you with wide eyes, his grip on you slightly weaker now.

“Okay, that's enough.” Simon interrupts the silence. “Dwight, my friend. Leave her alone, will ya?”

He does as he’s been told, finally releasing you. You keep grinning at him until he turns on his heels. While mumbling something you don’t catch, he pushes past the crowd and Simon, who is making his way towards you.

“A well-intentioned advice, Y/N,” Simon addresses you quietly. “Don’t push your luck.”

Daryl reaches for your hand and starts tugging. “C’mon,” He urges you to get moving. “Let’s go home.”

Even though it’s not necessary, you let him guide you from the parking lot and through the still in shock staring crowd. This will definitely have repercussions but you just can’t stop smiling. You’ve just humiliated Dwight in front of his own men and words can not describe the satisfaction.

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

#The Walking Dead #negan smith #negan x oc #twd negan #negan #negan x reader #negan / reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #michonne #daryl #daryl dixon #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #twd #dwight

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