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1 year ago

I really want an Ellabs x reader fic of fem reader really needing comfort bc she's sad/overwhelmed but she tries to hide it from ellabs but obv they notice smth is off, so they tell her they noticed smth is wrong and she kinda breaks down at that, then they comfort her thru it, listening to her problems or insecurities n'stuff <33 Sorry if it's confusing and/or too long, u dont gotta do it but i'd appreciate it tons <33 (Im totally not self projecting)

ur projecting = supported. 🫢 100% sfw/comfort fic but still no men or minors. type of relationship between them is up to u! this ended up a semi- full length fic oops ? enjoy!

I Really Want An Ellabs X Reader Fic Of Fem Reader Really Needing Comfort Bc She's Sad/overwhelmed But

sometimes it just feels too hard. being the newest member in jackson means you feel like you have to prove your worth 24/7. and it’s exhausting, really. abby is just so strong, ellie has the best patrol work, and you? you feel… weak. you (falsely) feel like nothing you’ve done has proven you’re worth the space in jackson.

so when monday rolls around, you tell ellie and abby you have plans with someone else so you can just go home and hide. they don’t question that, why would they? tuesday you tell them you wanna go to bed early. okay, fine. but then it’s wednesday, and they’re starting to get that something is going on with you.

the worry starts to kick in wednesday night after maria tells the two women you asked to go home early, citing that you’re not feeling well. abby all but drags ellie to your tiny place immediately after hearing maria’s words. you always tell each other everything. so why didn’t you now?!

it’s easy to know abby and ellie are knocking at your door simply because of the sheer force of it. five minutes you try to pretend you’re not home. you don’t want them to see you in this state; you’ve been ugly crying for two hours now. however, they don’t give up. it’s not like you could expect anything else from them.

“baby, we know you’re home. let us in, yeah? we’re worried about you,” abby shouts out after another two minutes of knocking.

you respond back with a sickly voice from the sofa, “no, go away. ‘m busy.”

you can just feel the attitude enter ellie’s body now. you know how stubborn she can be. “no, we know you’re lying. i will find a way in if you don’t let us in within the next thirty seconds.”

you know she isn’t joking as you move to open the door. the sight of you upon opening the door is not a pretty one— your face is red, covered in tears. ellie takes a deep breath before she pushes in. she won’t let you shut them out anymore. abby shuts the door before them before heading you back onto the sofa with them. each other is on either side of you within the matter of seconds.

as per usual, abby is the first one to break the silence. “oh, honey, what’s going on? we could’ve helped you sooner if we knew.” the way she sounds sad just makes you feel worse.

insecurities once again bubbling over, you do the only thing you can think of: you try to shove abby away. being significantly stronger than you means it didn’t feel like a single thing. however, abby won’t put up with you lashing out right now. she knows you can be their sweet girl even in the toughest of moments.

ellie watches like a hawk as abby grabs both of your wrists to stop you from trying to push her away again. “just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can act out. are you going to be the big girl i know you are now? or do i need to keep you here?”

the concerned sternness of her voice makes you whimper in reply. fresh tears leak down your face as you try to find the words to explain. “i- i just don’t think i deserve to be here! everyone, especially you two, carry your weight around here! and what do i do? i’m just a stupid girl working in the bar!”

and, well, neither of them could say they were expecting that response. sure, you were newer to Jackson, but so was everyone at one point. you were also one of the most popular Jackson residents— everyone loves the energy you bring to the bar after a long day of work. so it just makes sense that both women are beyond shocked to realize that this is why you’re so down. how could you not know how loved you are here?

as yet another round of tears starts to fall, you feel abby’s big arms quickly pull you into her chest. your body starts to shake with each inhale as you start to sob into abby’s chest. while ellie rushes to rub your back, abby starts to tilt your head up so you can see her.

“angel, angel, no. let’s take some deep breathes and then we’ll all have a talk, okay?”, abby coos as she wipes away the falling tears.

ellie puts your right hand over abby’s heart when your breathing doesn’t start to slow any. she speaks in the softest voice she can muster up,“deep breaths with me and abby, baby. feel abby’s heart beat. we’re all going to just relax together before anything else.”

two minutes between your favorite people is all it takes to reduce you to just sniffles. you slouch back into your seat once you’ve finally caught your breath. you look up at abby and ellie with wet eyes before letting out a long sigh. no one is sure who should speak first.

ellie decides she’ll be the one to start, “it’s not true, you know? everyone here loves you. helping run the bar is important. you create a space where we can all relax for once. emphasis on the relax part.”

abby grunts in agreement with ellie. “you know ellie’s right, don’t you baby,” abby questions before looking over to ellie, “our favorite girl’s always making everyone feel happy, isn’t she?”

“for real though, you really do play a big part here. you know ellie and i started arguing less when you came around? pretty big deal there, you know. even joel commented on it,” the dirty blonde continues on the conversation.

and that makes you giggle for the first time all day. “even joel? really?” while you knew they had a previous history of more frequent fights, you didn’t know even joel was over it back then too.

“yeah, it’s really true,” abby starts before taking a breath to think about her next words. she exhales, “strength isn’t everything, you know? you add just as much as we do here. creating a space where people can relax while we live on this hell on earth is just as important as what we do. we all do the best here because we are better with each other. our system can’t function without others.”

you’re sure you’d be crying tears of happiness right now if you weren’t so exhausted from all your previous crying. your previous anxieties start to slip away as you start to truly internalize both of their words from today. you are important. you matter here. just like everyone else.

no one is given a chance to speak before you’re pulling ellie and yourself on top of abby. “i love you, i love you, i love you both,” you whisper out. “you’re right. i promise i’ll come talk to you next time i’m feeling down, okay? know you’ll make me say that part next!”

“okay smarty pants, you better. also, we always are, darling. love you the most,” teases ellie before she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“hey! what if i love you both the most? then what?” you’re sure you can feel ellie roll her eyes as abby whines out playfully.

“okay, okay. how about we all love each other the most? can we just agree so i can drink some water now? my head is killing me.” a major post-crying headache has just started to come on for you.

ellie rolls her eyes playful at both of you. “i’ll get us all some water”, she commands as she walks to your kitchen, “and get comfy with abby. we’ll watch a movie, and yes, you can choose today.”

yay! end note to say ur important and i’m glad ur here + love that we all each add our own special things to this earth 🫂


Tags :
1 year ago

hello! I was hoping for a Joel miller imagine where the reader gets hit on in a bar when she’s dating Joel and he sees this and confronts the guy and hits him because he’s aggressive and is all protective over the reader!

I love your writing and this would be amazing thank you xx

A/n first joel request,, slay

update: watched the new episode, bill and frank, still crying 

i feel like this gives post outbreak joel a little more bc of the physical protectiveness,, but i can't remember if there's much/any descriptions of like literal bars in the QZ,, i've only watched the show and i don't remember seeing details,, like ik there's alc/pills available, but actual bars??

idk it's possible i've missed it or forgot bc i have terrible memory

so enjoy my 'makeshift' bar concept as i try my best to deviate from canon as much as possible

not to shamelessly self promo,, but if you like this fic i have another joel fic with what i feel like is a more developed version of this dynamic (bc it’s longer and more internal monologue centered) here and i’m making a part 2 for it so if you like these vibes and want something similar, it’s there, it exists :) 

----

You're staring again, and trying your hardest to convince yourself that you're not. It's more than pointless, it's bordering on ridiculous.

Joel Miller is not some fleeting crush that’d fit somebody in grade school better than it’d fit you. Not anymore. You know what you are. You've had a talk. The kind of talk that you didn't think existed anymore in this world.

It wasn't exactly the rom-com 'what are we', but after a man Joel was dealing with got a little too friendly, it led to an argument. One you didn't fully understand, especially since Tess practically lived by his side.

Don't pretend, you might come off as all innocent, but you're too smart to be that naive. Men like that only have one intention.

And that had rightfully infuriated you, because after weeks of lingering touches that could be justified with a few words but never were and all the goddamn looks, he had no right to lecture you about another man's intentions with you. His intentions don't matter because that has no affect on me and who I am. Why the fuck does it even matter?

Why does it matter? It had been this subtle scoff of a response that made you take a step back. That made your back brush against the wall of his apartment. Because I don't want other men like that lookin' at you, let alone speaking to you.

The world stopped spinning on its axis and all the air preparing to leave your lungs was trapped with no where to go. Too many implications. 'Other men like that', the inclusion of himself in men that had those intentions. Maybe even more importantly, the implication that he’s some sort of exception.

 Even more deafening, your response: Well maybe I wouldn't speak to them if you didn't entertain ev--

The rest of your sentence, whatever it would have been, was lost to his mouth on yours. A snapping of tension that took its time fizzling down to something less consuming. Something that allowed you both to talk enough to make it clear that Joel was yours and you were his.

It wasn't a magical snapping into place like it might have been in a world without the outbreak. In some ways, it added a new layer of hesitance, and in other ways it propelled you forward. There are growing pains with anything new, and the whole relationship thing is definitely new to you. Especially in this world.

If only you could get past staring. Maybe after Joel secures the whiskey-bourbon-hybrid whatever they're passing as alcohol these days from a less than trustworthy trading contact, you'll get buzzed enough to graduate to handholding, or at the very least, you'll be able to do something besides sit there.

You're starting to feel insane. How is making out easier than the small things? Maybe the setting is more at fault here than you. In the outside world, any form of attachment could easily be twisted into weakness. It’s likely best that you keep some distance from Joel here, especially with the way other men keep looking over at the two of you. 

It’s not like you’re never awkward about the little things when confined safely between the walls of Joel’s place, that’s slowly but surely starting to feel like it’s at least partially yours, as well. But the way you get in public is something else entirely. It’s probably for the best. There are already too many eyes on you. 

Like the guy with red hair that glints oddly in the yellow light of the stranger’s building. He’s swaying slightly, a dark looking glass in his hand that he’s yet to release in the entire time you’ve been here. Every time one of his friends leaves him, his gaze returns to yours. 

Your skin crawls each time, but you keep your expression as stoic as possible. Joel’s getting better at trusting you, better at letting you serve as a sort of backup in the way that Tess usually would. You know that if it came down to it, the man that keeps looking at you wouldn’t be an actual issue, and you know Tess wouldn’t let it get to her. 

Ugh. Another thing you want to get yourself to stop doing. Comparison. It’s ugly and so insignificant. Tess didn’t exactly welcome you with open arms when you first showed up, but you get that. And eventually she warmed a little. You think she’d still trade you for a few ration cards, but she doesn’t hate you. She’s, at the very least, no longer skeptical of you. The other day you caught her hiding a smile over a joke you made.

But it’s hard not to compare. They were the closest thing either of them had to a support system for years before you showed up, and you know that they’ve been together casually. Always casual. Joel stressed that part, but that doesn’t mean it’s an easy thing to know, especially now. 

You bury the thoughts the way you often do and turn your attention back to Joel. Back to staring. At least you’re consistent.

A man peaks out of the closet that seems to be the source of all the alcohol. He gestures vaguely in your direction. “That’s us,” Joel says, voice flat, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” 

Nodding as if to dismiss your own thoughts, you beg your mind to not create imaginary problems by reading into him telling you to stay. He’s walking a few feet away to get some boxes, it’s not the rejection insecurity is making it out to be. “I’ll hold down the fort, keep away trouble.” 

Joel blinks, turning his head in your direction briefly. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, which is more of a reaction than he likes to give when in these kinds of places. He shifts his hand casually, his fingers brushing against yours briefly as he stands. The gesture is small but immediately dislodges the lump in your chest. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” It’s little more than a whisper, but there’s something hidden beneath the roughness of his tone. A pinch of lighthearted humor that’s only visible to you. 

It eases you even further. Joel turns away, moving behind the long table serving as a sort of bar counter. You tap your fingers against the surface without much thought, taking a second to absorb the easiness of it all. It’s rare that getting anything require so little. You don’t think anything’s ever come as easy as sitting on an uncomfortable bar stool. 

“So...” You blink, posture straightening as your eyes flit to the source of the sound. “Guard dog finally left you alone, princess?” 

Okay. Ew. Of course it’s the guy that’s been staring you down since you first sat down. You have to fight to not let your nose wrinkle. There’s no good in reacting, in escalating the situation. “Not a guard dog.” 

You hope that it’ll be enough to show that you’re not interested. “Aw, not feelin’ too friendly, baby.” Ew. You’re torn between cussing him out or actually punching him. Neither is an actual option. Places like these are a minefield and you refuse to be the one to set off a series of explosions. “Maybe you’ll cheer up after a drink, could get you one.” 

Turning your head, you take a breath before replying. “I have enough friends.” The stranger is clearly apart of a group. You don’t know if you could call them all friends, you’re not sure there’s enough casual trust in the world left for genuine friend groups. But they’re at least acquaintances, or work associates, or maybe they met here, equally inebriated enough to accept each other. It doesn’t matter, the point is they were chatting up a storm before he decided to wander over here and bother you. “And it looks like you do, too.” 

“Fine,” he relents too quickly, “Let’s not be friends, then.” His hand shoots forward, landing firmly--and disgustingly--on your waist. “Let’s be something else.” 

You’re unsure if you’re more repulsed by his hand on you or how terrible that line was. Your own hand clasps his, pushing and pulling in an attempt to create a space. He’s relentless, even when your nails start clawing at him. “If you want to keep your hand, I suggest getting off of me.” 

He blinks at your threat and then grins, flashing a smile that’s missing teeth. And then he laughs. A cold chuckle that makes its way beneath your skin. “God, I like them feisty.” 

Shoving your fingers under his, you manage to pry him off of you. Your foot moves, heels smashing into his toes as subtly as possible. “And I like them when they know how to fuck off.” 

His smile broadens, a cynical undertone to the look that makes it worse than before. “Oh, darling,” his hand finds your arm, tugging you forward, “You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Pay for what?” Relief washes through you before you’ve even fully registered the familiar, even timber of Joel’s voice. He’s speaking in a lower tone than usual, an icy rage that you can feel in your bones and it’s not even directed at you. “Touching what’s not yours, ‘cause you’re the only one doing that.” 

There’s probably something you should say. A subtle warning to not go beyond scaring off the man that is clearly incapable of respecting a woman’s autonomy outside of another man’s claim over her. To not take it too far because it’s not worth it. Because you have it under control. Relatively.

Instead, you’re silent as the man releases you. He takes his time assessing Joel. The stranger is physically smaller and Joel does have that edge that only comes from someone that’s lost enough to be dangerous to anyone threatening what’s left. 

The man holds his hands up in defense, his glass sitting precariously between his thumb and pointer finger. “Easy, man.” You don’t even have to look at Joel to know that that was the wrong thing to say. “I didn’t mean any harm, if you set the price right, I’d be--” 

The rest of the proposition is taken care of by Joel’s fist connecting with the man’s jaw. You hear the audible crack before your mind can make the connection between Joel’s quick movement and the man’s silence. 

Holy shit. Joel didn’t just throw a punch, he threw a punch meant to shatter bone. He barely glances at you, and you’re too focused on the fact that Joel’s standing there, completely fine like he didn’t exert enough force to knock over a grown man. You blink as Joel extends the arm he’s been using to hold the small case. 

You’re too shocked to do more than take the box. The implication of why he’d hand you the box while still standing there doesn’t settle until Joel’s throwing another punch. Each hit is more committed than the last, even when the stranger’s knees give in and he collapses. 

Yeah, there’s definitely something you should say. Now. Like right now. You’d never ask him to hit anybody once, let alone do whatever he’s doing now. But words like ‘stop’ and ‘okay, think he gets it’ all jam themselves so far down your throat, you wouldn’t be able to pry them out with a wrench. 

All you can do is watch. It’s the kind of morbid fascination that reminds you of what it felt like to drive a little slower when passing a car wreck. You’re rooted in place by a realization that’s always been there at the back of your mind, an implied awareness. Joel’s more than just prone to violence when he needs to be. He’s angry. 

It should scare you. Terrify you. Your stillness should be some byproduct of that. But it’s not. Joe’s not a danger to you, he’s a danger for you. 

It’s a level of protectiveness you never thought you’d experience. Your chest feels warm. You hope you’re not messed up enough to consider this some grand display of love. However, there’s a vulnerability in the violence you can’t deny. You’re in a public place, the kind of morally questionable people that are far from above exploiting vulnerability. And yet here he is, announcing an undeniable attachment. 

Joel finishes, chest heaving and hands still curled into fists. The low light makes the thin layer of sweat on his skin seem like he’s practically glowing. His knuckles are already evidently split and swirling in distinct shades of blue and red. You’re mesmerized. 

“You can’t do that shit here.” 

That’s it. The only reprimand. In the world of before, he would have gotten the cops called on him. He would have gone to jail. 

Joel looks up, mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously close to fuck off. He then looks at you, gestures with a tilt of his head for you to follow, and walks forward. 

You try not to think of what it must look like when you follow, quickening your steps to get closer to him after you’re out of focus. When you reach the door, Joel pulls it open with one hand and reaches for your fingers with the other. 

----

The way your eyebrows draw together when you’re examining an injury is different than the way they pull together for anything else. It’s too focused to be concerned and too concerned to be focused. 

Joel could stare at that expression for longer than he’d ever admit to. He could concentrate on that little line above your forehead and forget about everything else. “I’m fine,” he mutters, knowing that there’s no real point. You’ll do what you’re going to do when it comes to these kinds of things.

You nod absentmindedly, another small sign that you’re not as here as you normally odd. “It’d be awfully sad if you died of something as small as non-fungal infection.” 

He swallows, minding that look behind your eye. Things are still normal, you’ve yet to show any sign of rejection. He kept your fingers locked practically the entire way here and you let him. Never pulled away. 

It’s not like he needs to apologize. Joel did nothing wrong. He even gave you a minute to handle the situation, but the man was relentless. The kind of asshole that takes advantage of a world with little order to prey on women. Joel would do it again. And again. And again. There are no regrets there.

You’re not naive. You know what you signed up for when you accepted him. He’s never hid that from you. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve always had a pension for forgiveness, a pinch of empathy the world hasn’t managed to snuff. 

“You’re dramatic, anyone ever tell you that?” 

A touch of a smile pulls on the corner of your mouth. “Hm. Think I’ve heard that once or twice from this one guy. Dark hair, dark eyes, cute, but not really my type.” 

Joel smiles, a partial laugh escaping him. “Really?” 

Turning over his hand with a gentleness he still finds difficult to understand, you press a quick kiss to his palm. You move back into your previous position so quickly it almost feels bashful. “I think you know the answer.” You flip his hand so that his knuckles face you again and go back to cleaning them. “You know, you didn’t have to...I wouldn’t have ever asked you to do that.” 

Joel can’t help his partial smile at that. Like there was ever any doubt. “I know,” he manages, “You’re not that.” 

It takes a second for you to understand what he’s implying. That you’re not like him. Yes, you get mad and you have nothing against putting people in their place, but you don’t like hurting people. Your lips part awkwardly, like you want to say he’s not that either, but you can’t. He just proved it to the both of you. 

“Nothing wrong with being like that,” you say, all too casual, “So don’t say it like it’s this big thing.” There is no end to the level of understanding you offer him. He doesn’t deserve it, he never will. “And you’re not like that in the way you mean. That asshole was, you’re not.” 

Joel lets out a low breath. Of course, even this you’d find a way to reframe. “You’d think so.” 

“I’m right.” It’s a quick reply, and the exact kind of response he expected. “You’re not a shitty person just because you beat up some guy or any of the reasons you’re thinking. New world, new morals. Accept it.” 

Your lips pull together into what’s almost a pout in your determination. Always so sure when it comes to him. “Mhm,” he breathes, watching your surprise at his compliancy. You know something’s coming, but not what. Your awareness does little to help you when Joel twists your hand in his pushes you back against the couch. “And what about you?” 

He hasn’t grabbed your hands yet, but you stay still, eyes trained on him. “I am a lot meaner than you think I am.” 

He tilts his head down to hide his amused expression. Your version of mean is fighting back. “You want to prove it?”


Tags :
1 year ago

Purpose

“This is the fic I talked about here

Summary: Episode 3 was too beautiful for me not to write a fic where bill’s letter makes joel think about reader 

anyways this isn’t an exact recreation of the episode,, it’s more about location and the vibes of the episode

----

The words won’t stop echoing in his head. Again and again, a round of bullets bouncing around in his mind, desperate for a target to pierce. Bill’s letter was written in anything but malice, yet it still manages to pry into Joel, get under his skin the way nothing has in a long time. 

Purpose. Saving, taking care of who’s worth it. The mention of Tess. The way his mind keeps floating to you. 

He shouldn’t. You haven’t been around long enough to even scratch at the surface of what Bill and Frank had. He knows that, but his mind won’t stop weaving the sentiment in Bill’s words to all the bits of you he knows. The tempo of them matches the sound of your laugh, the emotion behind them tethers itself to the tugging feeling that lingers in his chest whenever you tilt your head and look at him with those eyes when pitching something he’d instinctually say ‘no’ to.

It’s never a form of manipulation, either. It’s always teasing, always pushing in good humor, always innocent. You never take advantage, never try to. He doesn’t even think you know that you have that specific look. One person worth saving. 

There’s a soft creaking of floorboards. Joel turns his head instinctually, body stiffening in an instinctual preparation for the worst. Oh. His eyes find you and his stance instinctually eases. “Guys.” You’re more excited than you want to seem, completely unaware of the thoughts in his head. “They have hot water.” 

Ellie recovers faster than he can. For a brief second, Joel feels a pang of something oddly close to jealousy at her ability to interact casually. “No, shit--really?” 

“Really,” you confirm, “Does anyone want the first shower or can I steal it?” 

Turning her head, Ellie briefly looks like she’s considering asking for it instead, but then her eyes flit back to Joel. He’s staring, a little more out of it than she’s yet to see him. There’s something bordering on awkward in the way that he’s watching you. 

Oh. The realization finally hits Ellie. A hot shower would be amazing, but putting it off for a little will definitely be worth this. “I’m okay with that.”

You nod in her direction with a quick mumble of appreciation before turning your eyes to focus on Joel. You’re not doing the plead-y thing. His thoughts swell. Of course you’re just waiting patiently for an answer, genuinely willing to give up the first shower spot that you could have just taken. 

“Joel?” 

Shit. He hasn’t responded. “Ye--” It’s a small sound that’s not quite a word that Joel quickly disguises by clearing his throat. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Ellie’s eyes are burningly obvious. Even if you didn’t notice, Joel’s never hearing the end of it from that kid. 

You lean against the doorway. “You good?” 

“Fine,” now he’s replying too quickly, “Just--Bill said a lot more to me than he ever has.” Great. His second mistake. The last thing he needed to do was hint at emotion, the one thing guaranteed to sway you away from the promise of a hot shower. “If you ask me about my feelings you’re losing your first shower spot and I’ll run the sink until it’s icy.” 

You cross your arms in front of your chest. “You wouldn’t, Miller.” 

“Try me.” 

He can feel your eyes burn through him, can sense the way you see through his shit. You don’t push, you just straighten your stance, “Fine, you’ll only have that threat until I’m out of that shower.” 

Joel keeps his expression flat. “Plenty of time for me to think of a new one.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

 When you disappear out of his line of sight, his breathing improves and worsens all at once. Joel curses the ridiculousness of it. Sure, there were certain thoughts when he was around you before the letter, but this is something else. Something he needs to get over fast.

He lets his eyes drop towards Ellie and he takes her grin as the gut punch it is. “I’ve never seen you shy--it’s cute.” 

“Don’t.” 

She doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be influenced by the gruffness of his voice. “Don’t what?” 

The false innocence in Ellie’s tone isn’t worth engaging with. Joel glares, turning to leave the room before anything else can be said. 

----

Leave it to the end of the world to teach someone how to appreciate the little things. A lifetime of warm showers with a guarantee of water that could hold the temperature long enough for someone to really feel clean and Joel doesn’t think he’s ever understood the world of good a shower could do someone until now. 

You had been diligent, worried about taking up the time and heated water from anyone else, but when you stepped out of the bathroom, hair still wet, Joel practically forgot how to look you in the eye. It’s not that the shower changed you completely, though clean and safe is a good look on you, it’s that it made things feel normal. The kind of normal that would take nothing to slip into and turn to habit.

He had practically ducked out of the room when Ellie told him to go ahead since he so clearly needs a shower more than she does. It felt like the beginning of some kind of scheme, but there was nothing he could say with you in the room. So what if Ellie makes a comment or two? That doesn’t mean she knows anything. It’s not like Joel...he doesn’t. He can’t. Not with you. 

As he showers, he thinks of not thinking. Focuses on dislodging those thoughts from his mind. The echo of Bill’s words hold firm as they merge with memories of you. 

What makes a person worth taking care of so completely? Does the worthiness come from kindness or personal attachment or some natural, intrinsic quality? 

It doesn’t matter. No matter how many times he runs through all the potential categories, Joel knows who always fits it. 

“Well, don’t you look pretty.” Ellie’s voice snaps him out of that train of thought. Before Joel can reply, she turns, “Don’t you think so?” 

You blink, Joel briefly debates locking Ellie in some other room until it’s time to go. You take your time glancing over at him. “Yeah.” It’s been too long since things that mattered in the past have come up for him. He isn’t used to being overly aware of his appearance. The strangeness of it is daunting. “Joel’s the prettiest.” 

A cop out enough answer. It’s an easy way to appease Ellie and keep from turning something casual into something weird. Joel mentally scolds himself for being surprised. What else could he have expected? That you’d immediately jump to describe your opinions on his appearance? 

There’s no way that would have been a particularly good thing. He may not be as aware of his appearance as he was before the world changed, but he knows that he’s both older than you and made up of tattered edges more akin to shards than anything else. 

Ellie starts to approach the doorway. “I’m gonna take a shower.” Maybe that will help Joel regain control of whatever ill timed spiral this is. Removing Ellie’s comments and sideways glances definitely won’t make things worse. “For at least 30 minutes.”

It’s said with a deliberate slowness and Joel can feel heat settle in his face. “Just go.”

She holds her hands up in mock defense before turning and finally leaving. Joel frowns at the realization that his mental tension doesn’t immediately vanish with her. 

You turn casually, “That was weird.” 

“She’s a kid,” he mumbles, “Kids are weird.” 

There’s not that much space between the two of you. A casual distance that could be destroyed by a few steps. It’s an impulse that burrows itself deep beneath his skin. Joel straightens to avoid giving into the need to be closer. 

“Yeah.” It’s a breath, casual and flat. Joel finds himself unexplainably grated by the sound. He’s not the kind of person that dwells on others. Especially not in this way. “You know what’d be fun?” 

Joel swallows at the easy transition. You walk past him and towards the wooden table top. He isn’t sure what your goal is until your fingers bend around a neck of a bottle of wine. There’s something particular about the way the corner of your mouth tugs upwards. Mischievous. 

“I-” He clears his throat again. “I’ve gotta drive.” You say nothing, but that touch of an almost pout and the goddamn head tilt. “We need to stay alert.” 

You let out a sigh, turning the bottle in your hand. “You’re going to get out-of-it drunk off of one glass of wine?” 

He can’t afford anything right now. “You might.”

“You’ve never seen me drink.” 

So much indignation. Joel fights against a grin. You’ve spent most of your adult life in a post-outbreak world. There likely hasn’t been much opportunity for you to build your tolerance. And at this point, he feels like he knows you, and nothing about your personality or general being indicates that you’d be able to handle your alcohol. 

Sure, he doesn’t think you’ll genuinely be drunk after one glass, but he also doesn’t believe you’ll stick to that. A light buzz here wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it’d be inefficient. An additional distraction that Joel is doing his best to keep from.

Joel sighs at the accusatory way you raise your eyebrows. “I can still tell.” 

You roll your eyes. “I should go through with it just because you said that.” He watches you set down the bottle.

The lack of protest hits him harder than it should. It was a small thing to ask for and there was such a genuineness in the way you introduced it. You know what’d be fun? Even your defense was framed innocently. You’ve never seen me drink. Like the whole idea was more about the two of you than the actual drinking. Like you’re friends more than you are just friendly. 

Once again, his mind latches back onto the letter. An element he doesn’t need in the air right now. “Y/n.”

“I said we didn’t have t--” Joel grabs the bottle and takes a quick sip before you can finish your sentence. The immediate half-laugh-half-scoff that follows makes it all worth it. “Classy.” 

He does all he can to keep from smiling, but he isn’t sure he’s fully successful. “Always have been.” 

It’s the stupid kind of joke that you and Ellie would have exchanged a look over. You two would have picked it a part, pointing out the evident laziness of it. Instead of that, you laugh again before pushing away from the counter. He’s still as you walk towards him. 

The entire thing is casual until your eyes meet his. Joel’s body instinctually locks into place. It’s a form of defense, of keeping this moment from shattering. Your hand moves forward slowly--or maybe you’re moving normally and everything just feels slow when you’re focusing on him like that--until it finds the bottle. The tip of your fingers brush against the back of his palm. 

For a second, that’s all that exists. All that matters. You squeeze the bottle and Joel lets you take it. “You know it’s hard to measure a single glass without the actual glass.” 

You set the bottle down and turn your attention towards finding any type of cup. Joel keeps quiet as you find the set of long stemmed wine glasses. You set out two of them and fill them each a little less than halfway. A reasonable amount. A controllable amount. 

Turning back to face him, you hand him a glass. 

“One glass.” 

Nodding once, you pick up your own. “One.” Extending your glass with no warning, you quickly clink them together. A soft cheers. 

----

About three glasses later. 

“...That doesn’t,” laughter, “make--make sense.” 

There’s no slurring, but the small giggles pressed sporadically throughout the single sentence cues Joel in on something he should have taken into consideration about two glasses ago. You’re tipsy. Not drunk or fully out of it, but buzzed in some sense of the word. Buzzed enough to not even pretend to follow on his comment that hadn’t really meant anything. 

Joel sighs, forcing a bit of annoyance into the sound. “Maybe not to you.” 

You pout without reservation. “That’s rude.” 

Reaching around him without any tact, you try to find the bottle. “That’s enough.” 

Joel can deal with how you are now, but any further could be risky. It’s not like the three of you are settling in this house. His hand finds its way to your wrist as you try to squirm back. It takes you less than a minute to still. Joel doesn’t pull away. A second longer. Just to be sure. 

He returns your hand to his side gently, easing you back into place by your wrist. “I’m not drunk.” 

There’s no argument in your voice, no protest or anything that gives any indication of your flat observation. The certainty in your voice settles against Joel’s skin like a second layer. It doesn’t feel like it’s coming from the same person that just couldn’t get through a sentence without being interrupted by a fit of laughter. 

Joel’s chin tilts downwards in a barely there nod that he trusts you to pick up on. “Never said you were.” The realization that he hasn’t let you go yet hits him with no warning. His pointer finger and thumb are still grasping your wrist. It’d be so easy to turn over your hand and let your palms meet. “We should keep it that way.” 

“I trust you.” You breath out the words reluctantly, like you’re annoyed by the truth of it. The casualness of your voice has to prove that you don’t mean anything by it. Smiling almost, you breeze past what you just said. “This is fun. I haven’t gotten wine buzzed sin--” The cut off is jarring, but Joel knows better than to push. “Awhile. Since Ruth.” 

A name that has only ever slipped out from time to time. Joel’s picked up on enough pieces to know that it’s sore subject. “You don’t have to.” 

“I know.” Your eyes feel distant, you’re going somewhere else now. “Ruth was like a grandmother to me. Sweetest old lady, tough as nails, too.” You laugh again, the sound sharply bittersweet. “She didn’t like being handled or taken care of, but she was getting a little older and she--she was developing some kind of early memory issue. One day we got into this warehouse and it was full of wine. So we drank and then...” Eyes practically glazing over, you angle your chin downwards. You wipe at your face with the back of your palm. “I don’t know how I didn’t know. She had been talking about not wanting to live in a world where she couldn’t remember her children or-or take care of herself, and she’d been struggling a little more.” Joel swallows once as you pause. “She waited until I fell asleep. Left a note saying she’d never be a burden.”  

Joel relaxes the fingers wrapped around your wrist and turns his palm outwards. You meet him half way, interlocking your fingers with his. It surprises him more than it should. 

There haven’t been many times in which Joel actively reflected and wished that he could be different in some way. It’s his ability to remain detached and distant from emotions that have allowed him to last. But if he were some other version of himself, he’d be able to say something insightful or sympathetic or maybe even kind. 

But he’s not, so after the second, the only thing he can manage to say is, “Sounds like the kind of person you’d care about.” 

It feels like a wrong reaction, and maybe it would have been for someone else, but you give no indication of being upset. You let out a sad kind of laugh. “You know, now that you mention it you do kind of fill the grumpy, old lady void in my life.” 

The implication of your joke should sting more than it does considering the mess of his train of thought today, but it tugs at something in him instead. “Funny.” 

“Just like Ruth would have said.” 

He sighs, too aware that his expression doesn’t project the right kind of annoyance. You’re smiling again, though, like you’re pressing your lips together to keep from laughing. It’s a reset, knowing that you’re feeling better and that in some way it’s because of him. 

It clicks then. Settles like the world after a storm. Joel understands. It’d be easy to build a life out of protecting someone. He sees how it’s the kind of purpose that can burn away the frayed edges of someone that seems to be made of them. 

“Y/n.” His throat feels dryer than he remembers it being. There’s an uncertainty in where to go next, but you feel the shift the same way he does. Joel sees it in the soft nod of your head. “Y’know what Bill said in his letter?” His eyes flit away from you, “’About purpose and...” 

You were exploring the home when Ellie read the letter, but you had picked it up and read about half of it before Joel took it back. It was a bit petty, but you didn’t press. It’s his business more than yours.

What you had read had gotten to you and you didn’t even know Bill and Frank. It must have Joel, even if he refuses to let it be obvious. “I know it must have been hard to hear, but it--what I did read sounded like a better way to live than most did even before.” The response fits you. Of course you’d see it. “Sorry, that was--that was probably overstepping. They were your...” You hesitate, unsure if friend or associate would be more fitting. “You knew them and--” 

“No,” he breathes, “You’re right.” Joel takes a moment to just look at you, to take in what it feels like to be standing somewhere safe, holding your hand. “It does sound like a good way to be.”

Joel doesn’t know what to take from your reaction. The way your eyes widen just enough to be noticeable. You didn’t expect that level of candor from him, especially not about something so close to feel-y. “You think it’s unrealistic?” 

Your question comes out almost hesitant. It’s the kind of thing you would have never asked if it hadn’t been for the wine. The way you clamp your mouth shut after speaking is evidence enough. 

There’s so much he could say to that, but nothing feels like it’d fit. “Not for you.” 

You smile again but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “It isn’t for you, either.” Eyes briefly dropping, you tact on an almost shy, “If you wanted it. I know you’re...” Tilting your head in that one way that always gets under his skin, you settle on, “Most comfortable with what you know.”

Joel presses his lips together before correcting his expression into something more neutral. The sensation that he’s teetering on something twists at the air in his lungs. “You sayin’ I’m set in my ways?” 

Your amusement feels genuine again, free from whatever had been eroding at it before. His words are another step forward, an attempt at meeting you in the middle. “It’s not a bad thing.” When Joel raises his eyebrows, you let out a sigh. “You’ve said worse about me.”

He fights down a grin. “Doesn’t sound like me.” 

“Yeah, you’re a damn sweetheart.”

This time Joel lets himself react in the form of what’s almost a laugh. “That’s more like it.” Your eyes soften and there’s a warmth there that Joel doesn’t know how to hold onto. It melts at a part of him he didn’t think existed. It’s dangerous, more risky than the wine. “Do you think you’d--you want that?” 

You blink and Joel can find no way to blame you for your hesitance. The question was blurted out so haphazardly, so unlike what it is and now it’s looming over the both of you. 

Your mind is racing in a way you can’t justify. It’s not the question, but the way it came out of Joel, coated in a layer of hesitance that practically felt nervous in a way that doesn’t suit him. “Yeah.” The single syllable is so low it almost feels like a secret. “I--I think I do.” It’s surprising to you. “You said it yourself--it’s a good way to be. I’m sure for some people, it’d even be peaceful.” 

Joel’s jaw briefly locks at that last part. “And if it’s someone that can’t give you that last part?” 

The hollowness of the question startles you out of your initial reaction. The words alone would have been fine if they felt less raw. Your mind can’t wrap around them this way. “I uh--I’d probably be the unpeaceful one.” You don’t think you can describe it in a way that anyone would understand. “Caring about anyone that openly and trusting them to do the same...I don’t think I’d be a natural at that.” 

You don’t want to dwell on your words or the honesty of them, so you move on the only way you can think to: “What about you?” 

He should have known that you’d ask. He should have thought through some kind of response that wouldn’t leave him exposed. Then again, maybe that was the point of leading you here. Bill and Frank were here one day and now they’re not. 

“Y/n...” You’re silent, waiting patiently for the end of his sentence. There’s so much to say that none of it can come out. It traps itself in his throat. Too much about the day he first met you, the first time he heard you laugh, the first night when Ellie fell asleep with her head on your shoulder, the fact that knowing you’re okay could fix practically anything. “I don’t know why I’m still here and I’m not too sure Bill was right about me, but I...” The words jam in on themselves and Joel takes it as an opportunity to drag his thumbs across your knuckles like this might be his last chance to do so. “I think you might be part of it.”

The lack of immediate response twists at his stomach. Joel moves to take his hand back and at the last second you snap back into reality. You squeeze his hand, pulling him back towards you. “Joel...” You’re watching him so intently Joel needs to do something. He steps forward. “Are you--are you saying--” 

Sometimes action comes more naturally than words. Joel knows that, knows the familiarity of jumping into something when there’s nothing left. He moves his hand up your arm and settles it on your shoulder. His other hand brushes against your cheek. He pauses long enough to give you a chance to protest. You don’t. 

Closing the distance between you is a snap of everything into place. He can’t remember the last time something felt so natural. You melt into him, fitting into place like you’ve always been there. 

You’re warm enough to melt through all of his reservations. Joel places a hand on your side, pulling you even closer. It could be an eternity or it could only be a few seconds. You start pulling back first, Joel chases after you, grazing his teeth against your bottom lip.

You move back only enough to breathe, but you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “Joel.” You want to tell him you get it now and that you agree. That you’d come back to this again and again. That he’s your purpose. “It’s you.” 

It’s the only thing you can say, but that’s okay. You trust him to understand.

----

Taglist: @ciniluv


Tags :
4 months ago

the urge to write for the last of us because ellie is FUCKING FINE #gay panic

<- uhm if i did it would be fluff only!! ive noticed a lot of smut for her (which is fine but im a minor 😓) so if you want tlou fluff lmk and ill try writing for it <3


Tags :
1 year ago
Word Count: 3.6kwarnings: 18+, No Use Of Y/n, Pwp, Established Relationship, Boobies, Bottom!ellie, Sub!ellie,
Word Count: 3.6kwarnings: 18+, No Use Of Y/n, Pwp, Established Relationship, Boobies, Bottom!ellie, Sub!ellie,

word count: 3.6k warnings: 18+, no use of y/n, pwp, established relationship, boobies, bottom!ellie, sub!ellie, oral, fingering, ellie’s purple strap makes an entrance, multiple orgasms, ellie baby crying:( summary: ellie has spent years building a wall around herself, trying to make sure no one can ever get close enough to hurt her. one night, everything becomes too much and her walls come crumbling down. luckily, ellie has you to take care of her. or, ellie’s girl takes care of her like she deserves.

Word Count: 3.6kwarnings: 18+, No Use Of Y/n, Pwp, Established Relationship, Boobies, Bottom!ellie, Sub!ellie,

When the door opens, you recognise the sounds of Ellies footsteps immediately.

She’s finally back from patrol, and you can’t wait till she sees how nice you tidied up the home while she was gone.

Something catches your attention as she shuffles around in the hallway. Her footsteps seem much heavier than usual, sounds like she’s dragging her feet on the floor. Maybe something happened on patrol, something that tired her out. She probably needs to rest, and what feels better after a long day of hard work then a freshly made bed?

You hear her dropping her bag to the ground, calling out a strained; “I’m home!” If it hadn’t been for her heavy footsteps, the sound of her voice would have been a telltale sign that something wasn’t right. It sounds like she’s close to tears, and your Ellie doesn’t cry. At least not with people around, she doesn’t even cry in front of you.

Putting away the clothes you’d been folding, you’re on your way out of the bedroom and into the narrow hallway. You almost run straight into Ellie when she appears in the doorway with slumped shoulders and her face turned down to the floor. Reaching out for her shoulders, softly shaking them to get her to look up. To look at you.

Ellie’s stubborn, everyone knows that. So she keeps her eyes trained on the floor and says nothing. The room is quiet, and the only sound that can be heard is Ellie’s heavy breathing. The contrast between you is clear, Ellie is still in her clothes from patrol while you’re wearing a clean pair of clothes you changed into this morning. She’s dirty and bruised, and you’re clean.

Your first instinct is to reach for her face and convince her to come with you to the bathroom. Try to bribe her with the promise of a warm bath and cleaning her up. She must be exhausted from patrol, that must be why she seems so off.

It’s not until you move your hands to her cheeks that you notice it. She’s crying.

Feeling her tear stained skin underneath your palms makes your movements stutter. This is completely new territory for you, because Ellie never lets herself cry in front of you.

It’s the way she whimpers your name that gets your attention, brings you back to her. Before you know it, she’s collapsing against you and sobbing loudly. After that, your body moves on autopilot, you get her to the bed and slowly sit down with her on the edge. She’s gripping onto your hand so hard it’s almost painful, but you can’t bother to care about the discomfort. All you can focus on is Ellie.

You just hold her and stroke your hands over her back, letting her get it all out. As her sobbing calms down and she seems to be able to finally breathe, you press a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Wanna talk about it?” Your question has her looking up, into your eyes. Red shot eyes, quivering lips and flushed cheeks. Ellie looks pretty when she cries. “I just…” interrupted by another sob, you hug her tighter into your side.

“Just… saw something on patrol and I just don’t want to lose you.” You don’t press on her what she saw, knowing that patrol gets rough. There’s a growing suspicion inside of you that this isn’t just about whatever happened today. Probably something that’s been building up inside of Ellie for a very, very long time. Way before Joel and Jesse died, maybe even before Riley died all those years in the arcade.

She whispers your name, and you see another tear roll down her cheek. She’s trying to calm herself down, resting one of her hands above her heart. She’s trying to take a deep breath in, but she’s shaky. Eventually, Ellie manages to get out a few more words without breaking once.

“I’m so fucking tired of losing the people I love.” The way she looks into your eyes as she says it makes your heart ache, and you reach out to move a piece of her hair out of her face.

“You’re not going to lose me” is all you can get yourself to say, almost stuttering in your movements as you lean forward and rest your forehead against hers. “What can I do for you?” You whisper it like a plea, searching for an answer in her eyes.

“Kiss me. Please…”

Ellie’s lips are chapped, but that doesn’t matter to you. It never has. It doesn’t matter because it’s overshadowed by how it feels inside of you when her lips meet yours. The way warmth spreads through your chest, the way your heart just becomes full off her.

The kiss is short lived, just giving her a small peck to comfort her. To show that you’re here, really here, with her. The way Ellie chases your lips as you lean back takes you back by surprise, not realising she wanted more. Sitting still, your eyes still on her lips and not moving your eyes until you hear her voice again.

“More…”

And it’s enough to have you press your lips onto hers once again, bringing up your hands to hold her face in your palms.

You can’t bring yourself to care that Ellie is making the newly changed sheets all dirty with her outdoor clothes. It doesn’t really matter anyways, they can always be washed again.

The only thing that matters right now is your girl, laying underneath you. She’s breathing heavily, and under different circumstances you might have teased her for it. Getting so worked up just ‘cause you’re kissing. This isn’t the time for any teasing though, because she’s laying in front of you completely vulnerable. Just waiting for you to touch her, so she can feel you. Feel that you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere.

Standing up at the edge of the bed, beckoning for Ellie to sit upwards with your fingers. Without even questioning what you want, she does it. You can see the want in her eyes as she looks at you, but there’s also something else there. Trust. Ellie trusts you to take care of her right now, and what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t make sure to take care of her right now?

“Take your shirt off, let me see you.” The words make it sound like a demand, but the softness of your voice lets Ellie know it isn’t an order in any way. It’s more of a plea, a plea for her to let you see her.

The dirty sweater is thrown on the floor somewhere, and the sight of her topless makes you breathless. When Ellie sees the desire look in your eyes, the way you lick your lips as you lean forward to leave kisses all over her chest, it’s enough to make her eyes roll back.

It’s healing. The way you look at her, that is. Not just the way you’re looking at her at times like this, when she’s getting her clothes off of her for you, but at other times too. It’s hard to for Ellie to put her finger on, but you just always look at her so lovingly.

When you take her hardened nipple in your mouth, Ellie’s thought are interrupted by her own moan. You’re messy, using your tongue and getting your spit all over her tit. Using one of your hands to play with the neglected nipple, and Ellie’s breathy moans in the background sounds like music to your ears.

It’s not until Ellie attempts to grind down on the knee you’ve slotted in between her legs that you pull away. She’s quick to sit up, leaning on her elbows. You see the way she scrunches her eyebrows and her lips form a small pout, she’s clearly frustrated- frustrated that you pulled away

“Why’d you stop?”

“Shhh… just relax, let me take care of you…” Fumbling with the zipper on her jeans while Ellie tries her best to help you pull them down. It’s not easy getting the material off her legs, and you struggle for a good minute before finally managing to remove them. Dropping her pants on the floor behind you, you shift your focus to the only piece of clothing Ellie has left on her body.

The cotton panties she’s wearing are black and plain, Ellie shudders as she sees the way your eyes are stuck on her lower body and how you lick your lips. You make her scoot up so there’s more room for you on the bed, and you leave a trail of kisses as you descend down. Starting off by rubbing two fingers on the outside of her panties, making her wetter. All Ellie can do is let out a pleased sigh, dragging her hand over her face.

Her cheeks are flushed from desire, and when you start pulling down her panties Ellie turns giddy for what’s to come.

There’s nothing she loves more than having you between her thighs, she knows you can stay there for hours and you’re always so good at making her feel good. This is exactly what she needs right now, something to distract her from that fucking… that thing that happened during patrol and for her to feel you close. To have you close, feel your skin on hers, hear your praises in her ear. This is exactly what Ellie needs.

Slowly slipping a finger inside of her, you let out a moan at how wet she is.

“This all for me?”

“Yea- yeah, just for you. Always just for you” Ellie’s breathless from the way you’re using your finger inside of her, and she knows it won’t be long till you slip another finger inside of her. She’s probably already wet enough, but you always make sure to drag it out. Work her up until she can’t handle it anymore, till she’s pleading for you to just give her one more finger.

“Please?” You don’t know if it’s the way Ellie asks so nicely, or the way she’s whispering your name, but you give in. Pulling your finger out, only to slip two in instead, it’s now Ellie’s time to moan out loud.

You have been together with her long enough to know her body, know what she likes and know what gets her off. The way you slowly move your fingers inside of her, the way you press your palm against the front of her crotch and the way your palm keeps on grazing her clit.

The room is quiet except for the sound of you fingering her, and it’s filthy. There’s a thin layer of sweat on her body, and she feels like she’s absolutely soaking the sheets. She’s just about to start begging, begging you to speed up your pace and get her where she needs to be, but you’re slipping out your fingers and pressing your mouth against her pussy.

It’s even filthier than the sounds from a few seconds ago, the way you use your tongue on her. You’re basically making out with her folds, pressing your nose against her bundle of nerves.

Ellie’s grabbing your hair now, pushing your face further into her. Normally you’d pull away, scold her for being too eager and kindly remind her who’s actually in charge, but this time you allow her to use you. She’s trying to move her hips upwards, grinding against your face.

You’re using your tongue to fuck her, and Ellie’s using you like her own personal toy. You would rather die before you’d ever admit how wet she’s making you, how badly you want to slip your own hand inside your pants and get some relief. Ellie’s eagerness, the way she’s just using you, is almost enough to make you cum in your own pants. Your girlfriend is fucking hot.

You slip your hands underneath her ass, using your grip to push her even closer to your mouth. Making out with her cunt, the slick of her having spread all over your chin at this point.

When you hear Ellie babbling, you take it as a signal to slip one of your arms away from underneath her and move your hand to her thigh.

Slowly moving upwards and moving your lips to her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her with ease and sucking on her swollen clit.

“Oh, fuck yes.” You can’t see it, but Ellie is curling her toes, she’s so, so close. Just a little bit more. Her back is arching up from the bed, and she’s practically chanting your name. “Right there, oh, I’m so close” her words only spur you on, make you move your fingers faster. Pressing them up against the spongey spot inside of her, she lets out one last cry of your name before she comes undone.

Slowly pulling away, leaving kisses on her upper thighs as Ellie tries to catch her breath. You force yourself away from her skin, sitting up in between her legs. Ellie’s spent, but the way you run your thumb over your lips and bring your tongue out to lick it off has her clenching around nothing.

“Ready for some more?”

She only gives you a shy smile in response, and reaches her arms towards you as you move on top of her. Grabbing your hips and waiting for you to unbutton your pants and pull your underwear down so she can have you sit on her face, Ellie becomes shocked when you just shake your head and let out a tsk-sound.

“Not that” is all you say before you lean over her and reach your hand to pull at the drawer in the nightstand next to you. With a confused look on her face, Ellie can’t help but ask. “But you haven’t- I mean, I wanna make you feel good too…”

Just giving her a small smirk at her words, before you pull out the toy that’s been laying hidden in the drawer. Sitting up on your knees and pulling your pants down hastily before opening the buttons on your blouse, throwing the clothes somewhere on the floor along with Ellie’s disregarded clothes from earlier.

Reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, your girlfriend lets out a sound from underneath you. She’s trying to sit up so she can wrap her lips around your nipples, hard from the cold air and the lust pumping through your veins.

All you do is softly push her shoulders so she lays back, and Ellie is way too putty in your hands to try to fight back. Instead, she waits patiently as you get the purple strap on.

Your soft hands grab her ankles and you move her legs so you’re laying in a mating position. Ellie can feel the cold plastic against her folds, and she’s just waiting for you to give her what she wants. What she needs. She doesn’t expect you to suddenly move one of your hands to her face, and stroke your thumb over her cheek.

“You know I’m not going away anytime soon, right?” It warms her heart, the combination of your body against her and the soft spoken words is enough to comfort the part of her that’s still upset about what she and Jesse saw earlier.

“Yeah, I know.” Ellie’s hand now reaches for your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. “Just need to be reminded sometimes.”

You press a quick kiss to her lips before you lean back and grasp the head of the purple dildo, guiding to her entrance.

“Okay, I’ll keep reminding you then. That I’m your girl and I ain’t going nowhere.”

When you push inside of her, Ellie’s eyes roll to the back of her head. She can’t bring herself to care that she hasn’t made you cum, can’t bring herself to care if she’s being selfish. Not when you’re filling her up like this, when you’re leaving kisses all over her neck.

“You okay?” It’s whispered against her neck, you’re now completely still, letting her get used to the toy inside of her. She was already stretched out from your fingers, and wet enough to avoid discomfort. All she does is nods enthusiastically, moving her legs around your hips.

“Yes, just- just fuck me. Please”

It’s all you need, pulling out until nothing but the tip is left inside of her and slamming back in. Working up a quick pace, trying to alternate between thrusting into her and grinding against her, giving her clit some more stimulation.

The room fills with Ellie’s moans once again, but she’s not the only source of the filthy sounds now. As you move your hips against her, the toy pushes back on your clit. Feeling it graze against you over and over as Ellie drags her nails down your back makes you feel so fucking good. You try to tell her, but the pleasure makes it all come out in a broken sentence.

“Oh, you feel so-“ interrupting yourself by moaning, you close your eyes hard and try once again, “so fucking good, love having you like this, filled with my cock.” Ellie just lets out a high pitched moan at your words, and she can’t get herself to feel embarrassed. Not when you're pushing the purple strap on into her over and over again, not when you’re so pussydrunk on top of her.

“You look so good, Ellie, I just wanna do this… do this forever” you’re breathless, and she can feel her high approaching again. All she needs is a little something to get her there. As if you can read her thoughts, you use the hand that you had used to hold her face in your palm earlier and start rubbing on her clit.

She comes with a cry off your name, and you wish you could actually feel the way she spasmed around the toy. Instead, you content yourself with looking at her face when she orgasms. The way Ellie scrunches up her brows, and how her pretty lips shape an ‘o’ in a silent scream. You thrust into her as she comes down from it, and don’t stop until she pushes against your shoulder to let you know she’s too sensitive.

Pulling out and removing the straps from around your hips, you slowly get out of bed and reach for one of the clothing items thrown on the floor. Quickly buttoning your blouse, you head towards the bathroom. Ellie wants to ask you to stay with her, but she’s too exhausted to form a sentence. Her brain feels like mush, and all she can think about is how sticky the inside of her thighs still feel. It makes her think about how you looked like licking her juices off your lips, and she clenches against nothing once again.

Strutting out of the bathroom, a small towel in hand. You’re wiping her legs clean, and stroking over the side of her stomach with your hand. The atmosphere feels different now, and the air feels lighter. Ellie can actually properly breathe, unlike when she first fell into your embrace when she got home.

“Wanna talk about it?”

There’s a beat of silence, because she’s unsure. Doesn’t know if she wants to talk about it, doesn’t know if she can. Looking into your eyes and meeting the look of love, concern in them is enough to give her the courage to speak up.

“There was this… tree. And someone had carved in two names, and added ‘was here’ underneath them.” She takes a deep breath once again, and you reach for her hand to squeeze it. Remind her you’re still right here, right here with her.

“A little bit further down we found the remains of some cordycep, it had been… shot or something. I think it was a little girl.”

You’re quiet, waiting for her to tell you the entire story. She’s breathing slowly, and you can tell by the way her hands start trembling. Reaching for the cover,

“There was a man there, he was dead too. The gun was in his hand.” She gulps, and squeezes your hand hard. Even though her strength is enough to make it hurt a little bit, you don’t pull away. You stay perfectly still and wait patiently. Let her take a deep breath once again, let her try to calm down before speaking up once again.

“Think it was their names on the tree, and it just reminded me…” Even if Ellie had left it at that, you think you know what she’s getting at, who the supposed daughter and father pair reminded her off. “Well, me and Joel. They made me think about me and Joel.”

She looks into your eyes, her own filled with tears. She sits up and pulls you against her. Ellie’s being vulnerable with you, outside of sex, and it’s rare. She’s letting her walls fall down, right here in front of you. This doesn’t usually happen, it probably hasn’t ever happened before at all. But it’s like you already know what to do. Moving on autopilot, you just wrap your arms around her and let her pour her heart out.

She mumbles the last part against the skin of your neck, and then she leans back to give you a small peck. “Everyone’s gone, except you. And I can’t lose you. Ever.”

“Oh, Ellie.” She just leans against you, pulling the cover around the two of you. She doesn’t expect you to say anything more, not until you open your mouth again. “I’m not going anywhere, ever.”

With just a quiet whisper, you manage to make her entire being warm. The black hole inside of her heart is slowly becoming smaller and smaller, and it’s all thanks to you.


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7 months ago

Joel and Preggo wife chillin at home where Joel is meandering around the kitchen. And you're sitting in your big chair eying him suspiciously. The microwave chimes off and Joel retrives his little cup. Stirring his fork in the dry mix, he blows on the contents.

Youre leaning very far over your chair to unsuccessfully get a glimpse at the soon-to-be-yours food in his hands.

"What are you making?" You ask curiously.

"Mac and cheese," he says calmly, looking down.

"And you aren't gonna offer me any?"

"Oh," Joel looks over to you: his a little angry pregnant gremlin. How stupid of him not to offer. His poor pregnant wife could smell anything over a mile away, and hes just ignornantly in his own world helping himself. "Sorry, would you like some?"

You fold your arms attitudinally and shift forward away from him. "No."

He shrugs. "Ok."

Joel's taken his seat on the couch opposite, fanning cool breath over his Mac and cheese. His fork is 1 cm from his open mouth when you interrupt: "Well....okay yes i'll just have one bite of yours."

He pauses, the steam teasing his tongue. "Ah ok." Getting up, he hands you the cup and fork.

"Ya bastard," you mumble clearly.

You takes one bite, humming contently as the cheesey noodley highly processed gooey mess fills your buds and travels warmly to your belly. Joel reaches for the cup but you take another forkfull. Then you continue to mix and eat it, absorbed in the tv while Joel just stands there, his mac and cheese cup getting emptier and emptier.

Despite his hovering, he quickly accepts he's not getting it back and goes to make another for himself.

When you finish and set it down on the table with a satisfied "ahhhh", rubbing your pregnant belly, Joel grins.

"Good?"

"Meh. Was just ok."

You don't see him frowning, looking back at the empty cabinet with no more Mac and cheese.


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1 year ago
Pretty Angel

Pretty angel

{You can’t hide your insecurities from Tommy, not when he’s so attentive with you}

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It starts off with small things, as it always does with this kind of stuff, it happens before you even subconsciously notice and by the time that happens you’re too far gone in your own self-sabotage.

But Tommy notices, he notices how your eyes never linger on the mirror, he haphazardly hung up, almost as if you do everything in your power to not look at it, and when you do he notices the grimace that stains your face, the disgust that tarnishes your eyes and he can’t imagine the words that scratch heedlessly at your mind.

It hurts him more than you know, his heart aches at the thought of you thinking that you’re anything but a downright angel sent from the heavens above, and there’s an odd sense of guilt that squeezes him because maybe he’s not telling you enough?

He watches you intently as you walk into the living room a certain sadness casts over your beautiful face, and he smiles so brightly as he pats the empty seat beside him, and it’s hard not to smile back.

“Hey love bug” he beams like a lovesick puppy pressing a kiss to your cheek and he doesn’t miss the way you almost wince away from his touch, and his heart near enough breaks.

There’s an odd silence that wedges between the two of you, “So, what we watching tonight?” You try and be as chirpy as possible pushing all the negative feelings you have about yourself down and covering them with fake happiness.

But he notices, of course, he does. You’re Tommy’s absolute world, “Your pick baby” he reminds you gently

You nod with a small smile before getting up to where he keeps all the DVD’s and you flick through them before finally settling on the cheesiest romance movie you can find, and you giggle when he lets out a groan, “I know it’s your guilty pleasure, just admit it sweetheart” you laugh and Tommy’s heart blooms at the sweet noise.

“Yeah yeah, you got me, baby, it’s a real guilty pleasure of mine” he chuckles as you excitedly put it on.

However his smile soon falters when you decide to sit away from him, and his chest feels heavy when you slightly shift away as he inches closer.

There’s a silence that stifles the air with tension, and it’s enough to make you feel nauseous. Tommy knows he needs to talk to you he can't let you keep isolating yourself.

His hands take yours carefully, “You gotta talk to me honey— it just feels like you’re tryin' to distance yourself from me, what’s going on sweet thing?” he suddenly asks and your eyes widen in shock as panic seeps into your bones, and there’s a horrible blocky feeling that wedges itself in the back of your throat as tears sting the back of your eyes.

You don’t know what to say you completely freeze up and you look down at your shaky hands determined not to meet his soft gaze.

“I— I just— I don’t—“ you huff out in frustration when you can’t find the words to describe what you’re feeling, and he gives you an encouraging look, squeezing your hand in reassurance, “I don’t feel very pretty” you mumble feeling a little silly.

But it’s true nonetheless, there’s a loud voice in the back of your head that reminds you constantly of all your flaws it repeats in your mind like a mantra and it curses you until you start believing the horrible words to be true leaving you exhausted.

“Oh, Darlin come here” he whispers his brows knit together in sadness, you rest your head against the crook of his shoulder as his arms engulf you in a loving hug.

He doesn’t really know what to say and he’s completely freaking out on the inside. Tommy doesn’t understand, he thinks you’re an absolute angel, the prettiest person to walk planet earth, and his heart shatters at your words.

“I’m sorry it’s silly— I’m being silly” you sniffle wiping away your tears, and you watch the worry pour into his eyes, how his face is full of concern and it makes you feel guilty.

Tommy shakes his head, “It’s not silly baby, it’s not” he promises his tone is so soft and caring, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his rough hands gently cupping your warm face.

“Tell me what can I do, how do I help?” He asks, “Anything you name it I’ll do, absolutely anything sweetheart” there’s almost a desperation in his tone and it weaves through his face.

And your heart jumps at his words, and you realize that he cares, of course, he cares it was silly of you to think otherwise, but you know there isn’t anything he can do to stop the horrid thoughts that scratch at the back of your mind, “You just being here is enough for me” you smile wiping the tears that fall from your eyelashes.

He nods softly with a somewhat bashful smile, “You’re beautiful you know? I mean absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart” he smiles with a genuine look in his eyes, as he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, and you relax into his side his arm hooking around your shoulders bringing you closer to him, and you feel so loved.

His words bring another wave of tears to your eyes, and you can’t stifle the sob that pushes its way out your mouth, “Hey, don’t cry sweet thing” he mumbles against your head, and he can feel the dampness on his shoulder, his hand rubbing the expanse of your back.

“I’m sorry, I just love you, Tommy, so much” you sniffle and his heart melts at your words.

“I love you too, my pretty angel” he smiles as you let out a breathy giggle, and he wipes your tears away with his thumb before placing gentle kisses all over your face, and you go warm under his soft touch, heart full with happiness.

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☾⋆AN this has been in my notes for a hot minute, enjoy my lovelies!! <33


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1 year ago

Hi! just wanted to say that i absolutely love your writing and wanted to know if you could do a Tommy Miller x reader, where Tommy has had too much to drink and Joel takes him home to you but Tommy cannot stop talking about how much he loves you and how pretty you are as you take care of him. Like just super fluffy. Thanks so much if you decide to do this! :D

Hi! Just Wanted To Say That I Absolutely Love Your Writing And Wanted To Know If You Could Do A Tommy

Drunken love sick fool

{Tommy has had one too many, luckily for him he has you}

This is too cute!! Hope you enjoy lovely 💕

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“Don’t let him overdo it, please for love of god Joel.” Is what you had told Joel before the pair of them left for a ‘well-deserved drink or two’ you don’t mind really, in fact, you’re glad they get along so well, but goodness are they bad influences to each other, and before they know it they’ve both drank their own body weight in whiskey.

Joel only chuckled at you, saying something about how he ‘can’t promise anything’ which in turn made you sigh, knowing that tonight you might have to nurse a very drunk Tommy.

“Honey! I’ve missed you!” you hear him before you see him, shouting your name with a thick southern accent that seemed ten times stronger than usual.

You can’t help but smile when you hear Joel trying to shush him, scolding him about how he’s ‘gonna wake up the whole street with his yapping’ as you grab the front door keys from the small bowl.

You wish you could be mad at him, mad at both of them but you completely melt when Tommy’s eyes meet your own, so full of love and joy as he smiles brightly at you and you feel your frustration crumble away.

“Sorry, he just-” Joel tries his hardest to come up with a good excuse as to why he’s returned your boyfriend back home to you as drunk as a skunk, but yet all that comes out is a guilty chuckle as he scratches the back of his neck with a smile.

“It’s alright Joel, but you owe me” You tell him as Tommy wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his nose against your neck as he mumbles something about how you smell like heaven.

He bites back his laughter as you try to keep his brother on both feet, “Well good luck to you, he’s been er- asking for ya” and you can tell by the teasing look that flashes through his eyes that there’s something you're not getting, and you dread to think what exactly he’s said.

You bid him your last goodbyes with Tommy still practically hanging off you before closing the door with a heavy sigh knowing you were in for a long night.

“Mm, honey- I’ve missed you” he whispers against your shoulder, hands soothing against your lower back as they slip underneath your shirt, splaying against your bare skin.

The feeling makes your skin tingle as you pull back slightly, brushing his hair behind his ear, “Missed you too baby” you whisper, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he peppers sloppy kisses all over your face.

“God, you’re so pretty, do y’know that? My lovely girl” he gasps looking at you with soft eyes as he studies your face. His hands come to rest against your hips, squeezing them softly as he continues to admire you.

“Come on let’s go get you some water” you tell him, dragging him to the kitchen. You help him to take a seat at the table before pouring him a glass of cold water.

Although he doesn’t stay seated for long at all, immediately standing back up to lean behind you, his strong arms warped around your midsection.

“Tommy I-” You can’t finish your sentence as peppers more kisses along your shoulder, his rough hands going back underneath your shirt as they rest against your belly.

“I love you” he whispers, voice laced with exhaustion as he goes on, “So, so, so much” he presses kisses between the words.

“I love you too Tommy” you giggle as you try to pry yourself away from him as he lets out a huff of dismay. He doesn't have any of it, taking no interest in your offer of some ice-cold water. No, he's adamant that the only thing he needs is you to cure his drunkness.

Time ticks by and it nears twelve am when you finally get him to drink some water as you go and get him a change of clothes and by some miracle, you’ve finally got him into bed, even if his shirt is inside out.

You sigh as you finally lay down pulling the sheets over the pair of you. Tommy's arms wrap around you as he inches himself closer to you, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as he rambles on and on about how ‘lucky he is to have such a beautiful girlfriend’ as his hands soothe against your stomach and you cant wait to tease him about it in the morning.

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