#worst part about this is that i have to make my own food </3 because my brain thinks of very specific scenarios | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

familyvideostevie · 7 months

Text

the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable.

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets. You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her." Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something.

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

sssilverstoned · 3 months

Text

couples quiz ꩜ ln4

type: transcription from a youtube video

The GQ couples quiz goes precisely how you both, and your PR teams, expect it to

lily said: i just love world building (even if im not the best at it) so i can't ever leave a concept or pairing alone, so it goes!

part 1 part 2 part 3 2.5ish interlude

Y/N: Why do I feel like I left the oven on in the kitchen?

Lando: Well, because you did. I turned it off on our way out, don't worry about it.

y/n turns to the camera with a bright smile, and lando smiles at the sight of her own.

Y/N: My hero, everyone!

Y/N: And um, I guess we're getting started now? So hi, I'm Y/N L/N, a model and creative director currently based out of Europe.

Lando: And I'm Lando Norris, a driver for McLaren Racing's Formula 1 Team, and this is the GQ couples quiz. And if I may add, I absolutely think I'm going to win.

Y/N: I'm not even dignifying that with banter.

lando turns to the camera, an eyebrow raised.

Lando: Fun fact: Y/N's quite genuinely the most competitive person I've met in my entire life.

y/n's jaw drops with a scoff.

Y/N: No shot! You race for a living, for crying out loud.

Lando: Trust me, Love, you take the cake.

y/n rolls her eyes with no charge, a smile still on both of their faces and small looks exchanged between the two of them,

Y/N: Alright, you first. What's my favorite color?

Lando: (your favorite color), easy. it's the color of your phone case right now too.

Y/N: Yup. What's my favorite place I've traveled?

Lando: You loved Venice, no?

y/n winces, weighing her hands back and forth.

Y/N: I did, but that's not my favorite. In my whole life, I'd say,

Both: Jamaica!

they laugh at their unison.

Lando: And I knew that, I knew that! Because of your grandparents.

y/n nods fondly, giggling at how lando beats himself up about getting one wrong.

Y/N: Alright, what am I most scared of?

Lando: You're petrified of spiders.

y/n gags, and shudders.

Y/N: Don't even get me started.

lando turns to the camera with a faux look of exhaustion.

Lando: This girl refused to go into our bedroom for 3 hours once when I was out because there was a spider on the vanity.

Y/N: Whatever. Where did I go to school?

Lando: Switzerland and New York, very posh.

Y/N: You're calling me posh?

Lando: Can't the pot and the kettle both be black?

a producer bursts out in laughter in the background, making the couple do the same. there's a fondness in both their eyes as they double over in laughter.

Y/N: Okay, okay, almost done. What food do I love and hate?

Lando: You hate mushrooms, and for some reason, you really don't like salmon. As for what you do like, you get stir-fry and noodles a lot, but only from specific places. And you love tomato soup, that's the number one.

Y/N: Right again, nice baby! You make a good one now, by the way.

he winks at her.

Y/N: Who is my celebrity crush?

lando scoffs.

Lando: Dylan O'Brien.

Y/N: Forever and ever. My birthday?

Lando: March 10th, a spicy pisces, as you say.

Y/N: Hey, Olivia Rodrigo herself called me that.

Lando: And what about Scorpios?

Y/N: Nope, not your turn yet, I've got one last question.

lando takes a dramatic breath.

Lando: Alright, hit me with it.

Y/N: Where did we go on our first date?

a big smile grows on lando's face.

Lando: We went to a music show one of our friends recommended, and we both thought it was awful but didn't say anything because we didn't want to leave and have the date be over, so we listened to the most shit jazz music for an hour and a half just to be around each other.

Y/N: Best result from the worst music I've ever heard.

Lando: Ditto. Now, hand me the cards, yeah? I'm about to stump you so good.

the camera transitions to y/n now in the hotseat answering questions, lando teasingly taking his job very seriously with the question cards.

Lando: Alright. Where am I from?

Y/N: Bristol, thought you said you'd stump me?

Lando: This is literally question 1?

lando turns to the producers.

Lando: You see what I mean? Ferocious.

Lando: Moving on, what is our favorite show to watch together?

Y/N: We're rewatching Prison Break, so I'd say that?

Lando: I'll give you that one. Ugh, what was I wearing when we first met? Fucks sake, can we skip this one?

y/n sputters over him.

Y/N: Absolutely not, we're not skipping over this!

Lando: Oh come on, Love-

Y/N: I swear to you, the very first time I met Lando, he came to my 18th birthday party in a full on basketball kit!

Lando: I was told it was "Space Jam" themed!

Y/N: As in dress like you're in space, you fool! Not the Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny movie!

Lando: Needless to say, I was mortified. Seems like she still thought I was cute though, no?

another wink is sent to the camera.

Lando: What's your biggest pet peeve about me?

Y/N: You spoil everything. I can't ever watch a show or a movie without you walking in and going, "Oh, this is the episode before he dies." Like? Who does that?

Lando: Yeah, ah, guilty. Working on it. Eh, not really. What's my nickname for you?

Y/N: Cradle robber.

another producer reacts to this. a sputtering shock of laugh. "you call her WHAT?"

Y/N: We're the same age, mind you.

Lando: Wrong, you've been alive 8 months longer than me on this planet! 3/4 of a year, mind you. But I've got real nicknames for you.

Y/N: Yeah, you do. You call me Love, more than you say my name, so it always feels odd when you do say it.

lando doesn't respond with his voice, but the fond look in his eyes and nod at her answer.

Lando: What irritates me the most?

Y/N: About me? Or, like, in life?

Lando: Life, nothing irritates me about you.

Y/N: Oh, please. But, in life, you're pretty irritable when it comes to selfish people. You've always been like that, though, very compassionate and not a fan of people who aren't.

Lando: Very true, never thought of it like that, I guess. Just don't be an asshole, you know?

Y/N: See? Irritated.

Lando: Anyway. We're on our last question, so I guess you've won because it's not a point question.

Y/N: I won't rub this one in your face, just because you've been a great interviewer.

he gives her a gracious nod, and y/n rolls her eyes.

Lando: You'll never ever know how grateful I am. Final Question, what's something that you weren't expecting about me that you love about me?

Y/N: Oh goodness, are you wanting me to cry? Well, I think something that was initially a hard adjustment was the intensity of your racing schedule, and doing long distance sometimes. We don't really see each other sometimes, but when we do, you always sleep in. And at first it was really annoying to me, because we only have like, 3 days together, wake up! Let's do something! But once you told me that you let yourself sleep in on those days because it's a time to just, be, and we can do it together. So I guess my answer is, I wasn't expecting to love how much you love little moments. You've taught me to be grateful for things we take for granted, and I don't know, I think it's helped me through a lot.

lando stays still for a bit, an adoring look on his face as his eyes swell with what we think were happy tears. we're hoping so, at least.

Lando: I can't wait to marry you one day.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 instagram au #social media au

459 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 6 months

Text

When I say with my entire being in my heart of hearts that I know with certainty that this-this-this THING right here would do the absolute most unbelievable petty gross obsessive dahmer level shit to you

He's petty he's evil he's got a childlike fascination for seeing what breaks people down and I hate him I hate him I hate him but ALSO what that dick do tho? 🤔

Mahito is the yandere over here doing shit like imprisoning you for his own selfishness and perhaps genuine affection but making you live in absolute deplorable conditions because He's Not Fucking Human And He Doesn't Even Know How To Feed You. He locks you away and disappears for an entire day and comes back with like a single can of wet dog food that he watches you eat from a squatting position like 5 inches away looking at you like Harley Quinn and the egg sandwich. Motherfucker would take all your clothes because he wants to see more of "the natural shape of you" and then doesn't understand why you start shivering. Or he deliberately keeps you like that because he wants to see how long it takes you to crack and beg him for help. He wants to see the depths of your pride as you refuse to grovel, curious of the lengths you'll go, the limits of your body against the chill

This depraved fuck will do dehumanizing little emotional experiments on you where he does shit just because he wants to see how you think and feel and what you'll do and I mean like he'll do SOME REAL SHIT. I'm talking maybe he's stalking you and you can't fight or use cursed techniques and you think he's just like, a human shaped spirit or something who's just a trickster, he's not being violent or getting you alone or anything yet, and then you come home to your apartment one day and he's literally disemboweled your cat on your coffee table and he's playing with pieces of it and says you were giving it more attention than him and sits there pouting as you scream and even tries to like touch you or hold your hand or hug you with. The fucking blood covered hands. like he would be so fucked up on purpose, "awww do you need me to hold you? You're so sensitive but i dont mind :3"

This man out here like "wdym you want me to stay away from you, all I did was kill your cat kill your mom kill your neighbor kill your best friend kill your boss' cousins' landlords' newborn baby BUT WAS THAT REALLY SO BAD 🥺" and does something infinitely worse to scare/coerce you into tolerating his presence

I'm not really uh into body horror or gore but as a side detail I feel like. Uh. There's like a legitimate risk of him actually unintentionally REALLY hurting you and has to use his powers to heal you. Like the one good thing he does is if he were to have you on death's door or like horribly injured he could just. Fix it. He twists a limb in a way he doesn't know it's not supposed to go and breaks it and then puts you back together like a broken toy while ooo'ing and aaa'ing at the way your skin stretches over the grotesque misalignment. Dare I say the horror of "him putting things that are way too big or weirdly shaped in you" also yeah he's one of the things he's putting in you and he's got a really gross like fascination with learning all about that stuff

He's really living just to see how many different ways he can make you cry and how many different emotions he can get you to display, just absolutely dedicated to terrorizing you while also chasing his own internal weird repressed desire for his own sort of belonging. You could be sitting there sobbing and he's either borderline getting off on it or he's standing there MAKING FUN OF YOUR CRIES like deadass even fake crying back to you

And the worst part is he'll do all this fucking shit to you and then the night comes and he'll still be over here like "and you'll let me cuddle you while you sleep right? 👉👈" and he'll be doing that Every. Single. Night. And what are you gonna do, try and kill yourself? Have fun risking accidentally making yourself a Curse and being stuck with him basically FOREVER

#yandere x reader #mahito x reader #yandere stuff #yandere jjk #also sukuna would say disgusting shit out of yujis mouth face just to embarrass you both zend post #sinprompts

432 notes · View notes

saikira999 · 28 days

Text

~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.

New parts about Idia and Malleus!

[Azul]

Headcanon, what if Idia and Yuu somehow convinced Him to play Minecraft, Azul...:

1) "Why are there cubes everywhere??? I don’t understand anything...."

2) When he learns that monsters are appearing in the dark, he places two stacks of torches around himself in horror.

3) Crying from the physics of trees.

4) Will try to make a copy of Mostro in Minecraft.

5) He does not like to dig in mines and fight, but prefers to engage in agriculture, construction and trade.

6) He built his own village, with a complex hierarchy, its own economy and an underground mafia, where he keeps all the villagers under iron grip.

7) Every five minutes:

<Octo_businessman> fell from a high place.

<Octo_businessman> tried to swim in lava.

<Octo_businessman> was blown up by creeper.

<Octo_businessman> was drowned.

<Octo_businessman> starved to dead.

8) If one of the players hits or kills an squid in front of Him, He will take it as a personal insult.

9) The only one on the server who goes to bed on time and swears at everyone in the chat, because he cannot miss the night while others are awake.

10) Chief of food, armor and potions (Not for free, of course)...

11) Tries to negotiate with the pillagers.

12) Most likely, his house is either a clumsy box decorated with vines and blue flowers, or a huge penthouse with twenty rooms. There is no middle ground. Also, it seems to me that his house would be somewhere on the beach, or in the middle of the lake.

13) Drowned people are his worst enemies.

14) Makes secret chests with all sorts of treasures that he clearly does not intend to share.

15) Already dug up all the gold and ransacked all the treasuries, while the others fought with the ghasts and withers.

16) He comes into the game the least often, because “I actually have my fill of things to do.”

17) He is afraid of dolphins, because he personally knew real ones and knows that they are not the friendliest guys (No, seriously. Dolphins are assholes. Just Google it).

18) Terrible in PVP and always dies first.

19) He says that He doesn’t care about griefers and considers their tricks to be child’s play, but in reality, he is very offended and complains to Yuu in PM on discord.

20) Likes to play in small groups of 2-3 people and does not like to play alone or with too many players.

Hi! If you like My post, please reblog Me! :3

Also, if You want a doodle and headcannons for some other twst character, I will be happy to answer Your requests. They are open :D

My telegram channel

204 notes · View notes

ollie-lolly · 1 year

Note

Mind if I send another baby request (because I love the idea of these men with precious beans)? How would the Brothers/Dateables be if they had babies of their own? I just wanna know what kinda fathers all of them would be!💗💖

Thank you for the request! <3

Them as dads

warnings: none!

reblogs are appreciated!

Lucifer

-Will do that thing where he'll place the little ones feet on his, and hold their hands to help the baby learn to walk. TvT

-We now know that Lucifer is at least 10 million years old soooo.

-"He is more than daddy to me, he is like, he's like grandpa."

-Lets just say after being a mom dad to six he is desperately waiting for the baby stage to be over.

-He does not want to handle the little one too roughly, like with his more resilient brothers. So please help him out.

Mammon

-I can see him in front of a white board trying to explain the stock market and the baby is just there like :)

-He is super proud of his little one.

-He just holds his baby above his head sometimes like >:D

-I can see him buying a smaller version of his sunglasses and putting it on the baby.

-He uses the baby stroller as a place to store stolen things.

Leviathan

-Will take tons of pictures of the baby of any little cosplays he can find.

-Would use his tail like a baby carrier.

-I can see him holding the baby so they can see his figurines and he would go on and on who they are, from what show etc.

-Will watch childrens anime with the baby.

-Is scared for his life during the whole experience. So please try to keep calm, because he sure won't.

Satan

-Loves tucking it in bed.

-Please help him when his patience wears thin.

-Will bounce the baby on his lap while he is reading.

-Probably named the baby after a character in a book he liked.

-Will attempt to teach the baby complex topics, the baby has no idea what he is talking about but keeps listening anyway.

Asmodeus

-Will want to be around it 24/7.

-Will have tons of nicknames for the little one.

-Wants to dress it in so many outfits. ♡

-Customized and patterned diapers.

-Wine dad with Lucifer.

-Will often talk about his new dad life on social media.

Beelzebub

-Will have the little one on his shoulder at all times.

-Please be with him when he feeds the baby, because what is stopping him from eating the baby food.

-Looks really intimidating when he picks the little one up from daycare.

-Will gently use it as a weight when exercising.

Belphegor

-Will want to sleep with it for hours.

-It is so bad to the point that he has trouble falling asleep without his precious baby.

-He loves how warm the baby is.

-He has the little bassinet hanging above your shared bed, so he can check on the baby anytime.

-Beel essentially takes care of it with him.

Diavolo

-Will have a baby carrier on 24/7

-He will be walking in the halls of RAD and the baby is just: :D

-Will gain a lot of popularity with students because of the happy baby.

-The baby will most likely inherit Diavolo's adorable smile.

-Would spoil it with the most expensive gifts much to Barbatos' dismay.

Barbatos

-Will take time off to love and appreciate the little one.

-Handles the worst parts of babyhood great.

-Would love to teach you the techniques regarding childcare.

-Diavolo would beg Barbatos often to bring his butler's baby to work.

Simeon

-Somehow always knows why the baby is crying.

-Will insist on you resting while he takes care of the baby.

-Looks so angelic when he holds the baby.

-Simeon is always smiling when he gets to be with his baby.

-Luke loves to take care of the baby with him.

Solomon

-Will dress it in a wizard costume and post "My new apprentice"

-Please don't let him feed it.

-He does not realize how dangerous his house is.

-Next thing you know, the baby has his hands on a wand and almost destroys Solomon's house.

-Lets just say there needed to be A LOT of baby proofing.

-In the meantime, Solomon had to use a spell to make the baby float.

1K notes · View notes

sandy-the-glader · 4 months

Note

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request an Adrian Chase x soft and innocent!fem!reader where they are coworkers at Fennel Fields, him being a busboy, and she is a waitress. The two of them have feelings for each other, Adrian just trying to get the confidence to ask her out. A group of guys come in every week are super loud, rude, and also make Y/n (who is taking their order) very uncomfortable, and when Y/n turns down their advances, they say some very mean things and make her cry. Adrian is absolutely FUMING, literally having to hold himself back from going at them right then and there, instead following her to the kitchen try to calm her down (in his own Adrian way), promising to “take care of it” . She 100% thinks he means kicking them out, but the group of men get a “visit” from Vigilante… the group “disappears” without a trace “, never to bother Y/n again.

Adrian softly kissing a very relieved Y/n when the men don’t return to the restaurant, she doesn’t know about Adrian’s Vigilante side nor does she know the fate of the group of men, but Adrian takes it as a compliment nonetheless

The Protector

Character: Adrian Chase x InnocentFem!Reader

Type: Fluff/Comfort, Angst

Length: 2.7k words

Summary: Request above!

Trope: Best friends to lovers, Co-workers to lovers

A/N: I have not done anything for Adrian in a while and I love him so much aaaaaaa! I bent the request ever so slightly. Also, let me know if I should make a part two of this but it’s Adrian’s POV 😉

"God that group is back." I hissed. "How do they always manage to get seated in my section?" Me and Adrian eyed them from the kitchen.

"I don't know but they never tip well either. I think all the tattoo ink got into their brains or something." Adrian glared at the noisy group. I smiled at his joke. He always lightened the mood and I was forever thankful for that.

"God it's twenty minutes until closing why do they always come in here late?" I grumbled folding my arms.

The group was dreadful and I have no idea how they haven't gotten in any section but mine yet. They've been showing up the past 3 weeks on Saturday nights and past close. Me and Adrian had plans ruined because of those guys. I've been working here for 1 year and a half (Adrian for longer) and I've never had a worse group of customers.

Usually, the worst is an old lady who asks for the manager when the food isn't exactly to her liking. Or a group of teenage boys who don't buy anything they just sit there and be as loud as possible.

Sometimes me and Adrian went to see movies together on Fridays or had plans with friends and I loved it. That's what made me look forward to the end of the week but with this lousy group of 40-year-old biker guys trashing the tables and leaving sometimes a zero-dollar tip was starting to have the opposite effect on me.

"You know I can take the table for you. I know they're pretty shitty guys." He looked at me and I shook my head softly. His green eyes dazzling in the heat lamps made me almost take back rejecting the offer. When he looked at me the way he did it made my heart flutter. They were so careful and easy.

"You take over my shifts all the time Adrian. The least I can do is deal with one unpleasant table. I can do it." I looked back at him with determination. Besides he was only a busboy, not a waiter though I'm sure he could do the job just fine.

It was true though. Every time I was sick he took over no questions asked. Sometimes he even encouraged me to call out sick when all I had was a cough. He was my best friend after all but he always went above and beyond with the way he treated me.

Sure my other co-workers were nice like Taylor treated me nicely but never as nice as Adrian. From the get-go, he was kind to me always guiding me to where things were or making small talk with me to help get me though my shifts. He was never afraid to give me a hand in anything I needed.

He looked very unsure of my decision but he didn't protest as I left to deal with said table. Though I could still feel his eyes glued to my back. I pushed open the door and

I strode over there with a sudden burst of confidence. I could do it. Then when It's all over me and Adrian can go back to his apartment and watch movies all night like usual.

As soon as I reached the table that confidence slowly started to melt away.

They were a group of 5, all big-looking, and they were like I said a biker gang. Sometimes I hate my job.

"Hello I'm Y/n I'll be your server today can I get you any drinks to start with?" My hands trembled as they gripped the sides of my apron. Whistles filled the air as the men's eyes wandered across my body. Some even leaned over to get better looks at me.

"Looking good honey!" I laughed nervously trying to be as polite as I could to them.

I felt so incredibly uncomfortable. I felt my cheeks getting hot. I was even embarrassed to be close to them. I cleared my throat trying to get them to reply to the simple task at hand.

"Waters for all of us." What I was sure the group leader spoke out. "Please, baby." He added. His group let out an array of deep chuckles. I felt sweat start to appear on my skin. I smiled and walked off in the back. As soon as my backs were to them my smile vanished off my face.

Oh god, it's barely been 5 minutes with them and I already want to leave. Once I got back there Adrian was still standing in the same spot looking at me with a pleading look.

"Don't look at me with those eyes." Those pleading begging green eyes.

"You can still take my offer you know." He pressed his lips together. "Because you look like you need that help. It's not like a bad look or anything but you look kind of helpless. In a good way." Adrian rambled. I've known him for so long I could decipher any message he gave me.

"It's fine I can handle it," I said firmly. I wasn't going to let them get the better of me. Just seeing and having Adrian here made it better.

He was a complete nerd and I loved having someone like that. I loved hearing him talk about DND and all of his hobbies. Then I got to start doing it out of work too.

We even set up a DND campaign at one point. It was a little confusing at first but playing with him made me understand. The memories of us together made me way more relaxed.

I poured those glasses of water and put them all onto a tray and held it with one hand. I pushed the door open almost spilling them in the process and walked back to the table.

"There she is!" One of them shouted. I placed all of the glasses on the table without a word trying to keep my cool.

I watched some make extremely disgusting gestures. Just 20 more minutes and you can go home. Just 20 more long excruciating minutes.

"She's a beauty isn't she fellas?" The main one asked. I swallowed thickly not excited for their replies. I did not have the energy for this today.

"Oh definitely would talk her home. You single honey?" One of them eyed me.

"Uhm yes, I am I'm just not looking for anything like that right now." I lied trying to get him to understand the message.

"Nah she's lying they're always in the market." My feet wouldn't move. I felt scared. Uncomfortable. Where's Adrian? I shouldn't have taken this table. "Come give me a chance honey!" He begged. Can't this guy take a hint?

"No, thank you I'm sorry." I tried to stay as polite as possible. "What would you guys like to-" I was instantly cut off.

"It's not like her makeup hides much." They laughed. I felt ashamed to be here.

"And she could smile more. Where's our cute smile sweetie?" I couldn't smile to save my life. I would not give them what they wanted. My lips trembled.

"Nah her smile would be ugly too we can't ask for something she doesn't have." The table erupted in laughter.

"Look at her she's a doll. She could get any guy she wanted."

“Maybe she’s a slut. No wonder she's not in the market she just sleeps around!” Barked another.

I looked up to see Adrian cleaning some dishes from a couple tables in front of them.

He was looking at me because he had clearly heard that nasty remark. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked red with anger. He was seething and I could see his hand gripping the rag he was holding tightly.

Then the dam in my eyes broke. Tears started to brim my eyes and I stormed back into the kitchen quickly. As I left I heard them start to laugh louder. I shoved open the outside door and sat on the picnic bench we had out there.

I leaned my head in my hands and let the tears spill over my cheeks. I couldn't think about anything other than their words and how humiliated I felt. I felt like screaming at them but I just couldn't. That wasn't how I was.

Who did they think they were? Coming into our restaurant and treating me like shit for what reason? Do they have nothing better to do with their life?

I heard the door swing open and I tried to cover up my sniffling but it was no use. It slammed shut and I heard quick footsteps trot over to the bench. I already knew it was Adrian so I let him sit next to me. As soon as he put his arm around me it all came rushing back out.

"Hey hey, I'm right here." He whispered softly, I wrapped my arms around his back and in that moment he was all that mattered. I just wanted to have Adrian by my side. He awkwardly patted my back.

"Thank you." I wiped my cheeks which now had mascara smeared down them. "I'm a mess," I complained to him. He didn't say anything he just kept holding me. I knew he could struggle with comforting and with words in general sometimes. "You don't have to stay here you know. I'm already in trouble for abandoning my table i don't need you getting into it too." I frowned.

"Oh no, I'm staying." I snuggled myself into his side. "They don't deserve you. They're dicks who don't know how to treat women and that feels like a crime. They had no right to insult you like that." I nodded trying to listen to his words but I still felt shitty. "And that's like so not cool." He said and finally, a small smile spread across my face. He let out a built-up sigh of relief that I was starting to feel a bit better.

"I know. It still hurts though."

"No matter what those guys say they're so wrong." I looked up at him and he was already glancing at me. "You look so beautiful without makeup. I'm not saying you look bad with makeup on I mean like the complete opposite." I started to grin at his ranting.

"Thank you A. It means a lot." He enjoyed the small nickname. He continued to rub small circles into my back relaxing me.

"But those guys will never bother you again." He said still heated by the situation. "I'll make sure of it and because I really like you okay?" He confessed. "And seeing you hurt like that hurt me." he stared at the ground.

The confession threw me off. I always stressed about him liking me but hearing those words fall from his lips felt bewitching. I pulled away from him and looked at him eye to eye.

"Oh fuck I mean!" His cheeks grew pink. "Like I like having you as a friend not like in like I've been crushing on you since I've laid eyes on you and have been dreaming about you or anything because that would be like..." I leaned closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His face was warm and soft beneath my hand. "crazy." He whispered finishing his sentence.

"Don't lie to me right now Chase." I frowned. He sighed as he realized he'd been caught.

"Okay yeah, maybe I really like you." His eyes never once left me. "And maybe I have been dreaming about you since I first saw you."

"You better not be joking with me right now. Or I will continue to cry ."

"Okay um do not cry again please I already handled the first time poorly. But I am certainly not kidding." I moved my hand from his cheek to his hand which was much larger than mine.

"You better not be because I like you too." He blinked a few times trying to determine if I was the one joking around this time. He moved a stray piece of hair out of my face and tucked it neatly behind my ear. His eyes flickered down towards my lips and back up to my eyes. Was he really about to kiss me right now?

He swiftly closed the gap between us and captured my lips in a phenomenal kiss. Maybe he wasn't all nerdy after all because damn he knew how to kiss. Sure I have barely kissed anyone my whole life but he made it feel so right. He slowly pulled back to look at my face.

"Was that okay? If it wasn't I can totally like stop. I don't mind at all." I squeezed his hand and hugged him.

"It was perfect. Thank you." For having such a shitty night he made me realize the better. Like how the stars seemed to shine just a bit brighter than before and the moon was glowing just a little more than it just had. All because of Adrian

"How about I go deal with them and I also go grab our stuff since it's about time we clock out we have a fun relaxing night tonight?" He proposed.

"I would love nothing more."

"Good. Now you wait here!"

Once I got inside his apartment I immediately collapsed and melted into his couch with a loud dramatic sigh. He had probably the most comfortable apartment imaginable.

"Oh shit." I heard him hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to drop by the store after our shift to grab some things from the store..." He trailed off looking sheepish.

"Go ahead, Adrian. I know it will be all you talk about if you don't." He nodded before muttering a quick 'thank you' and leaving.

I had a really long day in general so as much as I wanted to I did not feel like waiting up for him. I left my work bag on the couch and wandered to his room.

His bookshelf overflowed with books and tabletop games, His bed was slightly messy from the morning, and it felt like him. I dug through his dresser to find this shirt that had a cool-looking dragon and a D20 on it. I took off my apron and work shirt and threw it on. I really hope he doesn't mind.

I threw my shoes somewhere on his floor and crumbled onto his bed. God his blankets were so soft.

It had been an hour before Adrian finally made his way home. He took off his mask and suit and tucked it away in the hall closet once he got home. He'd deal with all the blood later.

He walked through the hall and pushed open the door to see his best friend asleep on his bed in his shirt. He couldn't be happier to come home to this. She finally looked at ease snuggled beneath his covers.

Adrian scooted himself into his bed and joined her. He placed a small gentle kiss on her forehead and spooned her.

"They won't hurt you again." He whispered before allowing himself to drift off to sleep with her in his arms.

I waited afraid week after week to see that group come back but they never did. Nor the week after that or the next. I soon started to get curious about what Adrian meant when he said he'd "deal with them." Did he get the manager involved? Did he really have that strong effect on them? Maybe he even beat them up. He's too soft for that right?

Anyway, I was just happy to be with the one I've crushed on for so long. It felt good. Better than anything has ever been.

Tonight we were staying in on the couch while we waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave of his apartment. The smell drifted through the room making me even more hungry than I was before.

"I'm glad they're gone." I looked up at him. His glasses glowed from the light of his phone.

"Me too. I hate seeing you upset." I leaned on his shoulder and my eyes wandered quickly over to his phone. Just a quick peek it wouldn't mean anything. He was texting Chris who according to him was his guy best friend. I had met him a few times for drinks after work and he was a pretty alright guy. I scanned the words and...

I finally got to use the chainsaw on those guys :)

What does that mean?

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #adrian chase fanfiction #freddie stroma x reader #freddie stroma #vigilante fanfiction #x reader #comfort from vigilante #babygirl fr

164 notes · View notes

arlertdarling · 9 months

Note

hi hi! I love love your writing and congrats on 100 followers, you deserve sm more!! I would like to request a fluffy drabble with Levi Ackerman and the prompt “photograph” in modern au :)

thank you so much! ❤️❤️

hii oh my gosh, you are so lovely, thank you!!🥺 i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this, i hope you enjoy it<3

PHOTOGRAPH

levi x gn!reader, (domestic) fluff, established relationship, modern au

this request is a part of my 100+ follower event; if you’re interested, check out this post!

“don’t,” levi says through a mouthful of food. usually he’d never do something so uncouth, but with your polaroid camera not-so-discreetly angled toward him, he simply couldn’t risk waiting to speak.

you peek over the camera at him. “aw, please–”

“no.”

“but you look so cute when you eat!” you protest, but levi remains unconvinced. you watch him for a few seconds; the way his cheeks swell and his nose twitches every so often. “like a hamster,” you add under your breath and this time it does harbour a reaction — a deep furrow in his eyebrows paired with a glare.

you shake the camera side to side with a grin and the billion-dollar question on your face. levi exhales harshly through his nose in frustration; your persistence is admirable at best, but now — at worst — it’s simply insufferable. “why now, of all times?” he complains. “you could at least wait until i look more presentable.”

you chuckle and lean over to ruffle his hair. he flinches out of reach at the last minute. “that’s the whole point, dummy. they’re called candids.” you place your elbow on the coffee table and rest your chin in your hand. “besides, i think you look perfectly presentable. adorable, even. a work of art, in fact–”

“stop talking,” he mumbles, shielding his face with his hand so you can’t see it — but you know this reaction all too well by now.

“and now you’re flustered so i want to take a photo even more now!” you sigh and drop your arms and head onto the table in defeat. the only sound between you is levi’s chewing and the clatter of utensils against his plate. having finished your own food a while ago — since levi is a slow eater — you just lay there, tracing the patterns of the table wood with a finger as boredom overtakes you.

“fine.”

your head perks up and your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “what did you say?” you heard him perfectly fine; you just needed to be sure.

levi looks you dead in the eyes, but seems to think better of it, and shifts his gaze to someplace else before speaking. “you can take a photo of me, but only because you’re being so annoying about it.”

your eyes widen and your lips quirk up into a giddy smile. “really? like, right now?”

he frowns. “not right now.”

“but the candids–”

“don’t push your luck.”

you put your hands up in surrender, and for a few seconds, levi just stares at you, but then he falters, breaking out into a small smile and slightly turning his head away out of habit.

the flash of your polaroid camera lights up his features, his pale skin glowing. as soon as it fades, those features fall back into their usual position, and then they twist in realisation; parted lips, wide eyes, flared nostrils, and most importantly, that telltale colour that blooms in his cheeks.

“give me that,” he orders, swiping at the camera, but you just snicker behind your hand like a little devil as the photograph prints. you catch it between two fingers and wave it around, taunting your red-faced boyfriend.

“you said i can take a photo, so i took a photo.” you speak innocently, but your smile is knowing and mischievous. “no take-backsies, levi, you know this.”

the scowl is back, full force, but it has no effect on a face so pink. it’s not long before he sighs and finally gives up. the photo finishes developing, revealing a smiling levi; eyes creased, lip corners curled up, head slanted almost bashfully. the sight of it makes you giggle to yourself, which pulls levi’s attention back to you.

“what?”

you already feel your cheeks beginning to hurt from all the smiling. “oh, nothing. it’s just a really good photo.”

levi scoffs. “no, it’s not.”

you laugh, perplexed. “you haven’t even seen it?”

“i don’t need to,” he grumbles, playing with the remains of the food on his plate.

you tilt your head to try and see his downcast face. “are you mad at me?”

the absence of an answer is an answer in and of itself. you sigh and look back at the photograph. “at least mini polaroid levi isn’t mad at me.”

you feel levi’s eyes on you and look up, meeting his judgmental stare. “you...” he can’t seem to find the words he wants to say, his face all screwed up in a look of faux-disgust. “you’re...”

“the funniest person in the world?”

levi glares at you. “an idiot.”

“yeah but i’m your idiot,” you say, pretending to tuck some hair behind your ear.

levi stands up. “not anymore, i resign.”

“you can’t do that actually,” you argue.

he collects your empty plate and stacks it on top of his with a smirk. “i just did.” then he stands up with the plates and walks out of the room, leaving you a little dumbfounded as you sit there on your living room floor. “i resign too then!” you call after him, but you get no response, just a soft chuckle echoing from the kitchen.

#x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi drabble #levi imagine #{♡} juno writes !!#{♡} juno’s 100+ event !!

299 notes · View notes

xkaidaxxxx · 1 month

Text

Y/n is a liar?

Bakugou x Reader

Mentions: Loneliness, Jealousy, betrayal, cute romance with boom boy. Class 1-A issues, Small section of Hawks, sorry for any errors

Dear Diary,

Class 1-A always ends up in trouble with villains or daily dumb things. It’s been 3 weeks since Uraraka lied to everyone about me during an attack in the city. Ever since that day everyone in class lost trust in me and disliked me. All because of a lie. It's crazy how she lied perfectly even Mr. Aizawa believed her. Even Bakugo stopped training with me. I had managed to be in a solid friendship. As equals and that went falling down.

“I’m sorry I just won't sit around and do nothing. Civilians are panicking and in a rush. “Mama!” a child yelled while crying. Many children were lost and crying. You gathered up the kids that were lost. “Everything is going to be okay little ones. I’ll take care of you until we find your parents okay.” you said taking them to a safe place. “ She’s right. I’m helping her take care of the kids.” Uraraka said, running over to you. She smirked and took the perfect opportunity to lie.

A child fell back onto the street on his own since his shoelace was untied. “How can you do that to an innocent child!?” she yelled, starting her lie. “ What are you talking about? If this is about helping kids and going against the rules, I don’t care. I’m not going to leave scared and innocent children in the streets alone. They can get hurt.” You replied helping the kid who fell down. “ You pushed that kid onto the street y/n.” she replied. “No I didn't, he tripped. His shoelaces are untied.” you replied. The child was still crying missing his mom and from the fall. “ I literally just saw you push him.” she said.

I’m so upset. Diary thanks for putting up with my long sentences, with all the things that I need to get out of my system, before I go crazy. The worst part of it all is that they really think I am capable of throwing a kid onto the street, to hurt a child. I thought they were my friends. Especially her. She has been so kind and friendly to me since day one. Not anymore. I miss hanging out with the class. I try to explain things wanting to start talking to them to be friends but they just walk away. I’m the one putting in the effort and they shut me out.

You heard a knock on your dorm room door. “Hey we made dinner if you want some.” you heard Izuku. “ Thanks.” you checked the time. 11pm. You walked downstairs hoping they’d all be there to try and work things out. Everyone was in their dorms. They left you some food out of feeling bad for you. Even Izuku the sweetheart. You started crying, losing your appetite. “ You’re awake? It's late.” Bakugou said. You started washing your hands to be faced away from him. “I um c-couldn’t sleep and I have a stomach ache and you?” you lied. He knew you were lying but he didn’t want to make things awkward. “ Everyone knows I am asleep by 9, I woke up and felt thirsty.” he replied, serving himself water. You dried your hands. “ Well um goodnight.” you replied going back to your dorm crying yourself to sleep.

Mandatory Training in pairs came up and no one wanted you as their partner. At first everyone wanted you since you have more than one quirk, they’d known that they would learn alot from you now they would rather be partners with Mineta. “ Sorry I’m late sir.” Deku said, panting. He came in a rush. “ Your partner is y/n.” Aizawa said. Uraraka was so jealous. She had such a happy face but her eyes didn’t match it. “ Everyone begin. Today you can be more rough than usual. Bakugou watch yourself.” Aizawa said and sat down to watch. Everyone instantly started. “So we’re partners..” Deku said. You didn’t want small talk otherwise you’d end up crying so instead you instantly attacked him. No mercy after all they arent your friends. They think you’re a monster. A villain at this point. “ See what I tell you. She’s so mean and aggressive. Her true colors.” Uraraka whispered to Mina. You could hear them; it was one of your many quirks. “H-Hey give me a break to catch my breath.” Deku said while trying to keep up. It hurt the most when Deku dumped you, the friend that always defended him. You did your final blow and kicked him up and then across the field against the wall.

“Hey, you took it too far!” Kirishima yelled. Ida went to help Deku. “What is wrong with you!? First a child then a classmate.” Ida said. “ You need help. More than Bakugou at this point” Denki said. The rest of the class nodded. “ This is mandatory training. Mr.Aizawa said it's alright to get a bit rougher than usual.” you defended yourself. Deku was nowhere near your level, not even Bakugou’s. “This is why no one wants to be your friend. You’ll end up expelled if you keep it up y/n.” Uraraka said. “You lied about me pushing a child to the street. You all are the crazy ones to even think I’d do such a thing. Don’t believe me but know that I will beat every single one of you. Everyone knows damn well all I have to do is watch you to make sure you’ll end up losing to me. I don’t need a training partner to win. Have fun believing her lie and Uraraka. I hope you feel guilty for what you have done.” you said leaving. By then class 1-B showed up to see the wonderful but sad sight scene. Even that class disliked you. You wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school knows already. Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. Once the day ended you left the school grounds. Bakugou sat in his room thinking about many things but mostly about you. As you guys became friends he couldn’t help but fall for you. He loved how sweet you are, the way you’re considerate of others and how you get through hard days on your own. He was struggling on what to do and say.

“Hey Keigo.” you said. He was shocked when you showed up at his apartment. “ You’re ready to talk?” He asked to hand you a tissue box. You told him everything leaving no detail behind. You used the tissues all up. You met the pro hero Hawks when you were a kid. He's best friends with your brother, before he passed away he promised to watch over you.. “ Hey things suck for you right now but you’re a strong and passionate young lady. You’re doing so well on handling things. I can help you. You tell me where it happened and we can check for any security cameras. You show them and problems are solved although you will have to build relationships again. Express how they made you feel and how you want to continue. Remember to set boundaries.” He said giving you a big hug. You spend the rest of the day with him like detectives gathering information on the truth.

“ I’m telling you guys, she needs more help than Bakugou.” Momo said. “Bakugou you’re crazy but not crazy to harm a kid.” Denki commented. “Give her a break. You extras are making her feel awful. I don’t think she’d do that. She’s y/n.” he defends you. Everyone was shocked. “There’s no way you’re defending her right now.” Uraraka said with a questioned expression. “ I’ve been thinking about why she says you are lying and everything fell into place. She has defended Deku from me since day one and she started hanging out with him more. Everyone knows you have a crush on him. You got jealous the day of the festival. I overheard that day that you all visited him and he asked her to stay behind. That was your last straw wasn’t it.” He said with anger and truth. “ Bakugou, you're losing your mind. Get it together. You are explosive and that's what you're doing right now. Calm down.” She replied to him. She was trying to switch the topic.

That's when you walked in and the room got silent again like it always does when you come back to the door when everyone is around.You didn’t get to see what was happening inside but you did hear from outside. You were blushing like crazy when Bakugou defended you since he’s your crush. “ I see you guys are choosing to ignore me but I need you to see something” You said, turning on the tv and inserting the CD that showed proof that you were right. You played it and everyone was watching as if it was the movie of the year. Uraraka was shocked that you went that far to prove your innocence. Once it was over everyone turned to look at her. “ See I’m not a monster. Not a liar. Oh and by the way…this is me being mean and petty but that day Deku said he liked me and rejected him because I like someone else… So yeah. Feel sad and guilty…I apologize for being mean but it feels good.” You said. “Yeah..It sucks but hey she was being honest.” Deku said, crossing his arms. “Omg wait what!? Who do you like? Tell us everything. Once the guys are gone.” Mina said excitedly. She loves romance. “I have a chance with her. Please let it be me” Denki whispered hoping god can make it happen. “Why would you lie?”Jiro asked. “ Bakugou was right…that day was my last straw because from the look on Deku's face I knew what he had to say was important..and he had a smile.”she said looking down and rubbing her arm. “I am so sorry for causing harm to you Y/n and lying about such a horrible thing.” she apologized, tearing up. “ I forgive you. I don’t wish to be friends with you again but I’d like to be classmates with you.” you replied. You set a boundary just like hawks told you so. Everyone apologized to you and you told them how you felt m. At the end of the day it was nice to be back to normal. “Ssoo are you all going to ignore the part where she said she likes someone from our class. Let's see who is the lucky guy.” Mina said, squealing with the rest of the girls. “If I don’t say it now I’ll regret it later..so I’ve got this. If I throw up from the nerves, I’m sorry. God, I already feel nauseous.” You spoke. Your hands were sweaty and shaky. “ You’ve got it,” Uraraka said. “You see um…well I- its-okay okay it's Kats,” you said blushing like crazy. “Cats?” the class questioned. Bakugou knew because you call him that when you guys hang out or train alone. “Jesus Christ. Okay, let me get it through correctly this time…It's Bakugou!” you said. “WHAT!!!???” Everyone was shocked. “God when is it my turn!” Denki said. “ Do you like me? Would you like to go on a date with me?” you asked. The nervousness and nausea went away. “ I should be asking you that idiot…yeah let's do it,” he replied. The girls jumped up and down squealing and the guys slouched on the couches looking and being so defeated. “Damn Bakugou is the real deal. Great at everything. It’s so manly of him to have a girlfriend now.” Kirishima said. The guys nodded. Bakugou had a smirk with you by his side. “ I haven’t asked him yet.” You said aloud. “Again I should be asking you,” he said, smacking your head softly. You tiptoed and gave him a peck on the cheek. He was shocked, happy and he was blushing. “ Well I am tired and I need to get ready for bed. Good night!” you said happily going to your room. You talk to Bakugou about your date with him later.

Before bed you wrote in your Diary

Dear Diary,

I finally cleaned my name. Keigo helped me with that. The clip from the security cameras was the proof I needed. The class saw it and immediately felt bad. They apologized. Uraraka revealed why she did it and she felt awful about it. I set a boundary just as Keigo told me so and I'll do that with the rest of the class when we have time to relax again. Tomorrow. Hey, I also finally said I like Bakugou can you believe he feels the same way. He defended me although he was questioning me about the situation. At the end of the day, he connected the pieces of the puzzle. I have a date with him! We're going to talk about it later. I swear I'll put in effort to look prettier on the date.

55 notes · View notes

isa-ghost · 2 months

Note

*insert coin*

Can I ask for q!Phil hcs BUT when he's fully un Bird mode :D

Jokes on you that's easy, those are just more plain qPhil hcs for me >:D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Sometimes if he's in a fight that he's not taking seriously he'll put some goofy ass music on in his headphones. Some favorites include the Mario invincibility star theme, Waltz of the Meatball Man, and the kind of bubbly anime ending music that plays over an emotionally devastating scene

After way too much stress, once he gets Chayanne & Tallulah to bed and is on his own he'll go somewhere and just. Scream. For as long as it takes. And then he chugs tea or noodle broth to prevent his throat from dying on him.

Sleep schedules his beloathed <- wants to spend more time with a bunch of islanders he doesn't get to see often

Out of the 3 polycule members, Fit is best at cheering him up. He knows Phil best and the extent to which he lacks a filter sometimes is too powerful for Phil not to at least smile at

His wheeze laugh is the best thing ever to the the kids. If the two of them can make him wheeze, they know they've done their job right.

As soon as he knows something is safe (the maze, an event site like the code builds, that new mountain at old Spawn, etc) he's the first one to start exploring. He's been that way as long as he can remember ;)

*Slaps top of his head* This old man can fit so much survivor's guilt in him

He's only old in age and wisdom, if you try to imply he's geriatric he will get SO out of pocket about the things he's done with Fit & Etoiles and you will regret it

Okay so I've talked about how his worst fear is not having control, especially of himself. And I've talked about other fears of his, but I don't think I've mentioned his fear of loss yet. He tries to pretend he isn't, he'll insist he isn't, and to some degree he isn't Entirely wrong, but he is afraid. Being as old as he is means you get a bit desensitized to loss because it's natural when the things and people around you don't live for as long as you do. The part of it Phil fears, or maybe hates is a better word, is all the emotional turmoil after. That bone-deep ache of grief, the heaviness that refuses to leave his chest, how easy it is to emotionally compromise him, the hollowness that consumes him. The way he can't think or sleep properly, how his motivation is completely wiped out, how embarrassing it feels to not be at 100% in front of people. He HATES the aftermath of it all.

Excursions, Shuniji, and ofc Weirdest Year by C418 are Phil grief songs, in this essay I will

The Federation has learned that if they want Phil to attend an event he isn't particularly interested in, all they have to do is have really good food there, especially Latino food

He does legitimately gag a little when he kills a mob and flies or maggots come out of it. That's not just drama, he fr is like 🤢. It reminds him of the first time he saw Ender King's corpse

A fraction of the reason why he has people he trusts very deeply, like Fit, whitelisted on his security stuff is bc he knows if he ever got too depressed (like when the kids were missing), he'd never leave the house and just bum around feeling awful despite being restless. Having them whitelisted means they can get in and force him to get some air and stop festering in his emotions.

See I could get into a whole analysis abt this but like. So many of my angst hcs for him are abt how he's kinda shit at taking care of himself, esp when the people he cares for the most are removed from the equation. But it's not that he's incapable of it, he's not a baby or something like that. It's another part of how he's so locked into being the caretaker, the protector, the Strong One, the wise one, etc etc etc that he Hates being in the reversed role. He's gone so long without it that now it's foreign and unpleasant to him. He feels weak & like a burden. But at the same time, going so long without being in the reversed role is unhealthy and he NEEDS to be the one taken care of or protected sometimes. Everyone does. It's a double-edged sword: be the caretaker, shoulder everything & suffer OR be the one taken care of, feel awful about it for one reason or another. He can't win. He hates the latter but he needs it occasionally just like anyone else. He prefers the former, but the toll it takes over time is extensive.

It's why he'll do little things in an attempt to remedy it. To avoid being full-on taken care of for once while also not Only doing the reverse. Watching the sunset with the kids, adventuring in new and exciting places, sparring with friends, etc. His escape is making vivid fond memories to look back on and smile about, even if they don't always fix his emotional state. At least he isn't fully neglecting himself.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qphil headcanons

41 notes · View notes

crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 23)

Tw: Montgomery's really touchy n doesn know what is no

part 24

You were sent home. Because all you wanted to do was collapse on your bed and sleep the night away. The rain makes it extra cozy for you to cuddle under the blankets. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

You woke up to your phone buzzing. But it isn't Yves this time. It's Evangeline.

You picked it up and brought it to your ear, giving her a groggy 'hello'?

"Wake up, damn it! You're going to miss class again, daddy's already waiting outside for you!" You let out a yelp as you heard loud honking from outside.

You whined as you got out of bed, throwing a mini tantrum by stomping out of your room. You wish that Yves was here, he would have woken you up on the right side of bed every day. Yves would have been gentle and stress-free, he would have stroked your hair and given you soft kisses as an alarm. There wouldn't be any loud noises or sudden surprises.

You grumbled as you got yourself ready for the day.

This time, you remembered to bring the premade meals Yves prepared in the fridge. Sharing yesterday's lunch with Evangeline while you ate the fresher one today. Mr. Jones fussed with you about wearing sunscreen, so now you're protected from the sun.

Yves only sent you a singular text this morning at 8:30am.

"Good morning, my dear. May you have a lovely day, (name)."

No reminders, no updates about what he did or saw, no requests to contact him. You brushed it off as him being busy, deciding to favour Evangeline's attention over his. You didn't even reply to his only message, thinking that Yves would mind too much about it.

"Mmm! This is delicious, Sir Yves is a really great cook!" Complimented Evangeline as she took another bite of the cold wrap. You're eating your own meal that has specific instructions to microwave it, luckily there are some that you could use in the student's lounge.

"Aww, he's such a sweet partner too. Look!" She showed you a message left by Yves, that was attached to the wrapper of yesterday's meal.

"Lunch for (full name)- Monday.

Meal: Turkey and Apricot Wrap. Do not heat. Eat as it is.

Ingredients: lactose-free cream cheese, apricot reserves, wheat tortillas, shredded turkey, spices, arugula. Contains gluten.

Remember to put on sunscreen. There is no need to be nervous as I know you will do well on your first day. I will be thinking of you always. Call me if you want to talk about your day, I will listen.

Love,

Yves"

You never realized that there was a whole paragraph plastered on its wrapping. So you decided to check your container for any similar texts. Sure enough, you found one.

"Lunch for (name)- Tuesday

Meal: Coq au vin. Microwave with lid partially open, 3-4 minutes. Be careful as the contents will be hot.

Ingredients: Chicken, pearl onions, garlic, spices, pinot noir red wine, button mushrooms, bacon, butter, tomato paste, flour, homemade beef stock, tagliatelle. Contains gluten and lactose.

Well done, my dear (name). You have reached your second day. I hope you find my cooking so far to be appetizing, your thoughts would be very much appreciated. As always, do not hesitate to contact me if you need me. I will always be there for you. Be careful not to burn your tongue.

Love,

Yves"

She gushed over today's note. "That's so cute! I can see why you're into older men now."

You lightly punched her on the shoulder and laughed along.

You and her were eating peacefully, now that you have exhausted all the conversation topics. Both of you ate in silence, enjoying the food from Yves.

But then, all of the sudden, a pair of hands clamped down onto your shoulders. Causing you to shriek and jump in your seat.

"Scared ya, didn't I?" You felt his stubble scraped against your skin that has been softened by the skincare routine Yves set for you.

Colour drain from Evangeline's and your faces.

You tried swatting him away, but he took a deep sniff of your hair, inhaling all your scent. You protested as he buries his nose into your head, Montgomery is really loud in his sniffing. "You smell so good..." He mumbled lazily as he held you from behind.

Evangeline stood up and pried him away from you, but only successfully to a certain extent.

"Fine, fine. I'll save the lovey-dovey stuff for later when you're easier to win over." He massaged your shoulders with his thumb. You frown because he doesn't seem to understand that his strength is too much, you think you will bruise.

"You are hurting (name)." Evangeline firmly told him off. To your shock though, he immediately lets go and stroke your hair in an unnaturally, tender way.

"Oh! I'm so sorry darlin'... You're so soft and sweet, I sure forgot I can be a damn brute sometimes." You looked up at him and there was a considerable amount of guilt being expressed on his face.

He ignored Evangeline and invited himself to your table, sitting on the chair adjacent to yours.

"Here, I got us lunch."

Montgomery sets down a paper bag that has an imposing fast food logo printed on it. The smell of piping hot french fries and meat patties wafted throughout the air. He began unpacking it, placing a thin, cardboard box containing a large burger in front of you. Even though you're clearly eating the well crafted meal Yves made.

"And I didn't forget about yer rich friend." He took out a much smaller sandwich, wrapped in wax paper. Albeit begrudgingly.

"It ain't like she's gonna appreciate it anyways..." He muttered under his breath.

"Thank you very much, Sir Montgomery." Although she was kind and friendly in her response, you sensed a bit of animosity radiating from her. Montgomery seems to pick it up faster than you and tenfold the intensity.

He shot her a dirty look before going back to showcasing what he bought.

"I got ya' your favourite soda in a jumbo cup." He carefully pulled out a huge plastic vessel containing an ice-cooled liquid, you can hear it noisily sloshing and fizzing. It looks intimidating to say the least; you definitely can't finish it even with the help of Evangeline.

"You gotta fuel your brain somehow through those soul killin' classes." He stuck his hand back into the bag.

"I got ya' a cookie, a cupcake, some fries aaand..." He rummaged through the bag and pulled out something so small, that it's entirely engulfed by his hand. "A nice, little gift for ya."

He smiled and presented to you in a closed fist. You shakily uncurled his rough fingers off his palm to reveal... a nice little keychain?

"They said it's a limited edition! So I got ya one, I saw a bunch of youngins' goin' crazy over it. Must be the newest, hottest thing among the kids these days."

You sucked your lips in and stared at it, wide eye. You're not admitting it to anyone, but you secretly longed for it ever since you saw a promotional advertisement on your social media feed. You knew back then you could never afford it because it's $30 for this piece of metal alloy and you had to buy a meal to be eligible to get it.

However, you're not fooling anyone. Montgomery and Evangeline can see how obvious you desperately wanted it upon presentation. Evangeline shook her head, now knowing that her friend is susceptible to predatory marketing tactics. Montgomery grinned from ear to ear, knowing that he could take advantage of this situation.

Before your twitchy fingers could grab it, Montgomery pulled it away and dangled it over your head.

"Where's my thanks?" He teasingly brought his face closer to yours.

You quickly mumbled some words of gratitude before trying to reach for that desired toy. He laughed at your pathetic attempt to grab it, he's too tall for you and you're too unathletic to hop far.

Evangeline almost shot up when she saw his other hand hovering around your waist. Montgomery noticed this reaction of hers and decided to place it on the table, where you and her could see.

"I only accept gratitude in kisses or phone numbers." He pressed his forehead against yours while smirking cockily.

You sat back down. Despair surfaced in your eyes as you went back to eating the coq au Vin.

"Huh? You don't wanna take it?" You shook your head and did not say a word more. The conversation is over and it's not worth it for a piece of overpriced trash.

Montgomery's smile dropped and he turned his focus to Evangeline, who simply gave him a polite, but smug smile.

"You know, it isn't a gift if you expect something in return." Evangeline innocently commented, unwrapping her burger. "It's a transaction now."

Montgomery looked away and paid no mind to her words.

She continued to jab at him verbally.

"So... is your relationship with (name)... transactional? Are you their sugar daddy?"

Anger flashed on his face as he whipped his head to Evangeline. She grinned toothily as she felt a sense of accomplishment by striking a nerve in Montgomery.

"Hey, you watch your mouth, spoiled brat." He hissed through a clenched jaw while pointing menacingly at her.

"I'm just asking a question, sir. It really does seem like you're doing all these seemingly nice gestures, just to get something back." She batted her eyelashes and pouted.

"Shut your trap, you ain't know nothin' about our relationship." Montgomery's veins are starting to show, you cower in the corner, staring at Evangeline and silently pleading her not to go on. But all she did was give you a reassuring look, mixed with a devilish one.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend sir. You're right, I don't know anything about your relationship with (name). That's why, I'm asking! I want to educate myself, so I can do better!" She spoke in the most fake performative tone ever, you could tell she was doing this on purpose to rile Montgomery up.

"You ask too many questions, Goldilocks. Ya' need to mind ya' own business." Montgomery started gritting his teeth and balling his fists.

"I'm not judging! I promise. There isn't anything wrong with having a transactional relationship, I think it's a good thing we can choose how to define our-"

"I was just kiddin', Baby." Montgomery cooed at you. Simultaneously cutting Evangeline off.

He fixed the keychain onto the zipper of your bag. "You ain't need to give anything back. I'm doin' all these because that's what a good man would do for their partners." He ruffled your hair.

Montgomery glared at Evangeline who is now having a self-congratulatory grin on her blemish-free face.

"God, y'all rich people sound the same." He grumbled, taking out his own burger and began eating.

"Thank you! We take our speech classes very seriously." That earned a scoff from Montgomery.

She hummed and tapped her chin. Brewing up more ways to mess with Montgomery.

While she took her sweet time, you finished your meal from Yves. You're not hungry anymore, so you didn't touch the food Montgomery brought.

Of course, he noticed it. "Yer food is gonna get cold, soggy fries are the worst." He tipped the bag so you would have easier access to its contents. "Dig in, sweetheart. Ain't nothin' to be shy about. They're all for ya'."

You declined, saying that you're full.

"Aw, come on. You gotta eat, you're growin'! You need your nutrients and-"

"Aren't you a bit too old to be sitting with us?" Evangeline crossed her legs and watched him intently, her pupils dilated out of mischief and curiosity. He groaned and rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm not playin' with you. Shut up." He snarled while he opened your burger box for you to eat out of.

"But sir! You're--"

Montgomery slammed his fist on the table.

"I'm grown, they're grown, you're grown. Age ain't nothin' but a number at this point. We're all adults here, you better start actin' like one, ya' little shit." He rose from his chair and made himself look bigger to intimidate Evangeline into stopping. But she persisted with that irritatingly confident smirk of hers.

"Hmm. I wouldn't conflate legality with morality. (Name) and I are still very young, after all. I'm sure you're wise and mature, it comes with age. We can learn a lot from you, sir!" Her tone became increasingly condescending and mocking, her baby blues bore holes into Montgomery's dark eyes.

You could see his lower eyelid twitching out of fury. Your friend is definitely going to get pummeled into a pulp if she doesn't back down. But she either refused to heed your quiet warnings or is oblivious to it.

"Listen here, you piece of--"

He was interrupted by an alarm blaring from his back pocket. Montgomery fished it out and took a look at his phone screen.

He frowned, grumbling incoherently under his breath as he began packing up.

"You were saying? And, where are you going--"

"To work! God damn! You're fuckin' annoying!" He exclaimed at her. All Evangeline did was maintain her straight posture and sweet smile.

"Aw. I'm sorry to hear that. Could you please tell me what I did wrong? I only wanted to learn..." He ignored her completely and whipped out his wallet. Montgomery pulled out two $20 notes and stuffed it into your bag. The man made sure to zip it up, so it wouldn't slip out.

"Treat yourself to somethin' nice after class. I'll be late, so don't wait up- go home with goldie, it ain't that safe to use the bus at night. Unless you wanna give me your number..." The man looked at you with hopeful eyes. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"That's so sweet of you! Giving (name) some money to spend, just like a sugar daddy would!" She clapped her hands in excitement.

"Shut. Up." He pointed his index finger at her. Evangeline gave him Jazz hands and an open-mouth smile. Then, Montgomery turned to you.

"You gotta pick better friends, baby." He kissed you on the forehead before you could react. Cringing at how his stubble would scratch you and his hair leaving a mild greasy residue on your skin. His lips were dry and leathery, the experience was disgusting to you.

You let out a shout and tried your best to shove him away. But all you did was make him sway a little.

"Bye honey, I'll see you around." He gave you a brief, affectionate pinch on the cheek before taking off.

You and Evangeline looked at the vast number of food items he left for you. Neither of you took a bite out of anything.

You asked her if she wanted to bring it back home. She shook her head.

You decided to pack them up for your housemates instead, hopefully gaining some of their favour while Yves is away.

Evangeline wrapped her own untouched burger back up and dumped it into the paper bag.

You felt a buzz in your pocket. So you fished it out to see what was causing it.

A text from Yves was displayed on your notifications.

"I miss you."

You deem it as something unimportant, just a random thought that your boyfriend opt to share just for the sake of sharing. Totally not hinting you to call him back. So you turned your phone off and returned your device back to your pocket.

Your class is in 10 minutes anyways, you and Evangeline better hurry and wrap up soon.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #oc yves #male yandere oc x reader #oc Montgomery #oc evangeline

53 notes · View notes