now some oc writers are using the “x reader” tag and giving the excuse that “it’s just a different perspective.” it doesn’t matter if you use that tag IF YOU’RE NOT INCLUDING THE READER! YOU have your own tag, leave us alone.
the “x reader” tag exists so that readers of any background, appearance, or identity can immerse themselves in a story and feel included as the main character.
when you write a story centered around your own original character, with a defined name, personality, and often a specific appearance, you’re no longer inviting the reader to step into that role, you’re writing about your character, not the reader. that’s completely fine! writing oc content is valid and has its own space.
but misusing the “x reader” tag to gain visibility or clicks is misleading. it sets the wrong expectations and excludes readers who were looking for stories where they could truly see themselves in the narrative. if your story focuses on your oc, label it honestly.
use the “oc x canon” tag or “original character” there’s no shame in that. but please stop co-opting a space that’s meant to be inclusive and flexible for all readers, especially those who are often underrepresented in fiction. the “x reader” tag is not a blank slate for oc projection.
it’s meant to include everyone, not just your creative vision.
respect your audience. tag responsibly.
NOTE: writing in another point of view like “SHE/HE went to the market” instead of “YOU went to the market” does not count as “x reader.”
(not 100% but most of the time) don’t try to be clever or sneaky about it.
NOTE 2: by the way, regarding the second image, it’s great to see more asian, black, and mixed oc’s! but even so, that still doesn’t make it a reader insert, let alone fit the tag. the reader needs to be the main character.
'People are panicking about AI tools the same way they did when the calculator was invented, stop worrying' cannot stress enough the calculator did not forcibly pervade every aspect of our lives, has such a low error rate it's a statistical anomaly when it does happen, isn't built on mass plagiarism, and does not obliterate the fucking environment when you use it. Be so fucking serious right now
your outwardly violent attitude towards any and all romantic & sexual arrangements that don't mirror your good wholesome vanilla monogamous ideal is actually not made quirky and lovable by your queer identity. people who do the "if my partner even asked about polyamory i would buy a gun" schtick on here are pretty functionally identical to straight people who joke about murdering their partners if they came out as bi
this was such a fun request it literally occupied my brain for the last 72 hours. tytyty anon!!!!
summary: 'video game joel in jackson would be so awkward w reader. imagine they go see a movie for the first time in years and he does that thing w reader where he itches his nose to smoothly put it over reader’s shoulder' - requested by anon
rating: 18+
warnings: lightly implied smut but no real smut at the end, cursing, age difference (reader is about 30-32 and joel is 54-56), tried to be as neutral as possible but i did write this with a feminine reader in mind.
word count: 6.07k
Being in Jackson meant having clean water, a warm bed, guaranteed food, but best of all; electricity. The dam in town, monitored and worke on by the gracious townsfolk who took you in, keeps the water your bathe in warm and lights on all around the city at night. You’d forgotten the luxury of seeing so much in the dark.
Having been a young age when the outbreak began, the memories of what life before infected were blurred. Muddy water. Clear only in brief moments of light, smells, feelings and fleeting just as fast. Your mother, who also survived- or rather helped you survive- helped fill in the gaps on occasion and you were grateful for the life you clung to, even if it meant wandering in the dark for months at a time, unsure of where your next meal would come from. From youth to now, you and your mom watched out for each other. Now, you were part of a community that would take care of both of you. You both return the favor.
Being in a QZ meant enforced curfews and the military breathing down your back. Not allowed out, barely anyone allowed in. Escaping was easy enough. Surviving your way all the way to Jackson was not. Now, you and your mother roam freely at night and almost any other time if you aren’t on patrol. Music from bars pour out into the string lit streets. During the day, children play and learn. Hundreds of people found refuge here, and you now joined their numbers. You’d even met a few people you’ve become close enough with to say you’re friends.
Sometimes you get put on patrol with Dina, Jesse or Ellie, and while they’re both several years your junior, they entertain you, they respect your authority, and they also remind you of being that age, so you don’t mind. You spend some free time at the bar or help out in some of the kitchens from time to time and have grown close with a few others, all in varying ages. Joel, who you met through Ellie, being one of them.
Joel. Always brief with his words. Always to the point. Ellie would complain about him on patrol from time to time, but she would balance it out with credit to the man in the same breath.
“He’s always trying so hard. I just don’t know how to make it work now…” She trailed off on a ride home from the nearby abandoned town. It was your last stop and it was beginning to get dark. You’d given her a small nod of understanding in response. She huffed out a sigh. “I know he cares and stuff, but sometimes I need my space. I mean-” She paused to look at you, reasoning with her own conflictions. “I just would like one night out of the house. Or the garage, I guess. He’s done a lot for me… and I want him to know that I see that.”
You thought for a moment. “Maybe spend some intentional time with him. That way, when you want that night away, it will be earned and he won’t put so much pressure on it.” You suggested. She made a face off indecision but nodded anyway. “I think you’re right.” Was all she’d said on the matter the rest of the ride back.
Secretly, you admired the man. He was maybe ten years older, but you got along like you’d known each other for ages. You liked the energy the kids like Ellie brought to your days, but if they were your spark, Joel was your peace. You didn’t feel pressured to have to entertain, or keep him on the right path, or make sure he was being observant. Joel was a seasoned veteran when it came to survival and you felt an ease with him you couldn’t with anyone else. Because no one else could protect you like Joel could. No one other than the mother who helped a child survive the outbreak. And even that was highly lucky.
You were put on patrol just twice with Joel. Both times were eventful in wildly different ways. The first was in a positive way, you both found a new stash of medical supplies- an urgent care facility that’d gone unnoticed due to the decay of the lettering outside of the building signaling any kind of benefit to looting. Half of it was also caved in so you and Joel both worked to sort through the rubble that’d gone ignored for so many years. You’d both decided to check it out on a whim, and were very grateful you did.
The second time went a little differently. It was summer and the sun was beating down on the both of you like you’d never experienced before. Dehydrated and exhausted, Joel suggested stopping by the creek bed where you were to cool off in the water. Not a moment after relief began to set in, you were caught off guard when a small group of infected decided to jump both of you. In the calamity of racing back to your things, you’d slipped on a rock and fell so hard on your head you got a concussion. It rendered you unconscious and the only reason you were still breathing the next day is because of Joel.
You remembered the cold feeling of air rushing over your head wound, blood slowing, but still pouring out. Eyesight fading in and out, and when it was in, it was blurry. Unclear images of Joel fighting off the infected while keeping your body strictly behind him flash in and out of your memory. He’d patched up your head as best as possible and hoisted you onto his horse with him, tying your horse’s reins to his saddle horn to ride with the both of you back to safety.
He’d been muttering to himself the whole ride, all the way until you were passed off to the medical staff. Very faint sounds, from what you could remember, but you also knew to attribute that to the concussion. It was a fade out from being handed off, to waking up being carried further from Joel, the last image being of him staring after you as he grew smaller and smaller.
From that day forward, you two have been close. I guess saving someone’s life really does bring two people together. Your mother was fond of him as well. And not just because he saved your life- although you did figure that played a large part- but because of his manners, his honor. She’d mentioned how polite he was to you one day and, it wasn’t that you hadn’t noticed, but you hadn’t seen how deliberate it was. Holding doors open for you, fully listening when you spoke, considering your likes and dislikes. If he was behaving this way specifically for you, you couldn’t tell, but you did take note.
When you’d complimented him on such things, he- in his own Joel way- laughed in your face. Really, it was more of a scoff, but nonetheless it was just as dismissive. “‘M not polite, darlin’, I just treat people how I wanna be treated.” He answered plainly, but there was a hint of knowing in his eyes.
You began to keep an eye on these things he does that he brushes off and you found that, while yes, he does open doors for others and he is an excellent listener, he doesn’t listen to anyone else the way he listens to you. Undivided attention. When you speak, you’re all he sees. He’s holding onto every word of yours like if he doesn’t he’ll fall down. Even when you’re talking about nothing. When he holds doors for others, he looks relaxed and at ease, but guarded. With you, his shoulders soften and he’s often watching your every move as you walk by. He’s more awkward with you. Part of it is his own ambiguity in navigating getting close with others, but part of it is something else, and to assume it’s you would be highly narcissistic. Or so you tell yourself.
Meanwhile, Joel can barely contain himself. His time in Jackson had been peaceful, and had allowed him to grow comfortable. With Ellie safe and enjoying life, he’d forgotten what it meant to have room to care about anyone else. She’d been his priority for so long. Now that he met you… Just thinking about you made his stomach turn with butterflies. He felt juvenile.
It took him a week to discover your existence. Three months to patrol with you for the first time, and another three for the second time. Every patrol in between was filled with thoughts of you. Hope that you’d be paired with him again. After the second time with you, he was enamored. Your intelligence captivated him. You’d researched so much. Both about this new life and the life before the infected. You had stories on stories to tell of you and your mom, some of which were his favorite to hear. Joel knew better to pry whenever you’d get to a particularly hard memory in your stories. He’d often ask a question about a different part to get your mind off of whatever had you troubled, and even though you knew what he was doing every time, you let him. It was nice. Sweet. Two words most would not use to describe Joel. You would. And you’d said so.
That almost knocked Joel on his feet. When you told him you thought he was polite, and sweet. It made his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Feeling slightly guilty for laughing in pure shock at a fairly innocent compliment-turned-question, he’d given a finite and brief answer. You hadn’t complimented him since. Worried about rejection, you’d avoided doing so.
Finding himself thinking about why you hadn’t done so tipped Joel off to his growing, deeper, feelings for you. It bothered him, and under any other circumstance- anyone else- he wouldn’t care. Wouldn’t have crossed his mind. Much like many other interactions with others in the town. They weren’t on his mind like you were. But he also worried he was too old for you. He thought about what you’d think of Ellie who was essentially his own kid. His past was a heavy burden to carry, as well. He’d killed so many, watched so many die, and the thoughts of those deaths weighed on him heavily.
The last thing he wanted was for you to shoulder any of it. Joel knew that the first time he saw you laugh. He wouldn’t do a thing to compromise your happiness if he could help it.
Weeks later, you both were busy on your respective duties that would be ending sooner rather than later. It was the first Friday of the month, and the first Friday meant movie night. The electricity in Jackson was powerful and a few months prior, Dina and Jesse returned with a projector, VHS tape player and some VHS copies of several different movies. The town would not stop talking about it for a month afterwards. Aside from new medicine, food or healthy helping hands, this was the best news they’d received all year.
Movie nights became a regular, monthly tradition. Those not on shifts for the night would gather and watch different movies. There would be a vote beforehand on what would be played and the announcement would go out a week in advance so people could plan to be there. If you couldn’t make it due to a shift, you were sure to be scheduled in time to make it the next month and so on. It was a huge morale boost for everyone. Dina and Jesse have not stopped bragging about it being their find because of it.
Hanging up your apron, you made your way to the washrooms where you cleaned up after working every shift here. Your neighbor, a girl of similar age who got put on the same duty as you today, met you by the sink. “Are you coming tonight?” They inquired. You smiled and nodded. “Movie day. Never missing that.” You assured, scrubbing the smell of garlic off your fingers. No amount of soap would be enough.
“I bet Joel will be happy to hear that.” They wiggled your eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure he will. He’s my friend.” You assured. “Uh-huh.” They responded in an unconvincing tone. “Hey, all I know is, he’s bringing Ellie, but we all know where she wants to be. Maybe you can get some one-on-one time with him?” They suggested. You paused at this before reaching for one of the towels to dry your now-clean hands.
It was a good point. You recalled your conversation with Ellie from a few days prior. How she really was looking for an excuse to be out of Joel’s earshot for one night. You weighed your options. It wasn’t like you to blatantly ask someone to hang out, especially not Joel, and especially not under the current circumstances. It also wasn’t likely to get him to let Ellie go anywhere he wasn’t familiar. Maybe you could get Joel away from Ellie?
It was clear you liked Joel. You loved him, really. It was quite easy once you got to know him. If you asked him to see the movie with you, and you specifically, you weren’t sure how he’d react. You were confident he’d say yes, but to what degree?
Realizing you were overthinking something that was probably just all in your head anyways, you snapped back to reality to find your neighbor staring at your zoned-out expression, smirking. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” They asked, mouth agape in joyful surprise. You felt heat in your face and quickly dismissed them, pushing past the doorway.
“I’m thinking about going to see the movie later and nothing else!” You shouted over your shoulder, leaving your colleague and emerging to the main cafeteria. Turning on your heel, you were about to reach for your keys and bag that had been strewn on one of the tables when your face instantly collided with leather.
Stumbling back, and almost on your ass, you began to curse, “What the fu-” You began to say, but the feeling of two strong arms steadying you and the familiar face in front of you cut all sound in your throat short. Joel stood before you, the smell of pine filling your nose as he stood there looking as patient and understanding as ever in light of your fumble. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He sheepishly apologized as you quickly regained your bearings. His accent was deep, thick. It made your heart flutter. The adrenaline of being caught off guard had not yet worn off. “No, oh my gosh,” You breathily laughed out. “You’re fine. I was just about to leave is all.” You smiled up at him, brushing some hair that had fallen into your eyes out of your face.
“Going to the movie tonight, I hear?” He asked, eyes darting to the hallway you just came from. If your neighbor was still here, they did not make it apparent. You silently thanked whatever was out there that they left. You didn’t need them making fun of your attraction to him to his face but behind your back. Your eyes darted from Joel nervously, remembering the conversation between your neighbor. Surely if they noticed your attraction, he would too.
“Uh, yeah, weirdly enough, I was on my way to you with a similar question, but you’re back from patrol early.” You grabbed your things off the table you went for earlier and turned back to see Joel’s look of amusement and curiosity. His eyebrows raised, a slight smirk on his lips that silently mouthed ‘Oh?’. Those lips. You forced yourself to look at his forehead.
Your heart was beating in your chest so hard you worried he could hear it in the pause. “Would you like to go with me?” You blurted out. It felt silly coming out. Like you were in high school, asking someone to the prom. But under different context. A non-romantic context. Because that’s what Joel would want, right? He doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with some romantic drama, you reasoned.
Joel’s face became unreadable. His mouth slightly opened as if he were going to say something, but closed again as he decided on something else. “Together?” He clarified. You ignored the way your heart sank. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I have some wine at my place, I thought maybe we could have a glass before we go. But if you have other plans…”
“I don’t.”
His response was quick. Joel saw the way your face fell at his initial response, and he quickly realized why. You thought he was uninterested in going with you personally. Something that couldn’t be further from the truth. Joel wanted nothing more than to go with you. Jesus, he had the opportunity to take a girl on a movie date. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. 20 Years was probably something like it. More.
His reaction was purely shock. Not distaste. He was shocked you wanted to go together. That you wanted to go with him. Be seen in association with him on purpose and not in a group setting. It was more intimate than he’d been with anyone recently.
“I’d love to go with you.” He clarified, realizing he’d only been staring at you since his response to having other plans. “Ellie can have the house to herself for a bit.” You reasoned with a smile meant to hide your giddy emotions and while Joel gave a short reaction at the idea of his kid-now adult- being home alone, he let it go just as easily, too distracted with thoughts of his movie date with you.
Deciding both of you needed a shower before the movie, you split up and went to your respective houses to shower and get ready. It was merely an hour and a half before the knock came at your door.
Swinging it open to reveal Joel, groomed and standing off to the side of your doorway. In one of his hands was a bouquet. Your eyes shot open and you pretended not to notice he got groomed and brought flowers to go somewhere with you. “Where did you find these?” You excitedly reached through the doorway to take them from him, immediately pressing your nose to the petals. It was a well done bouquet of wildflowers. You’d seen them growing several times on some of the patrol routes and found them beautiful everytime. Joel just happened to notice.
“I pulled a few strings.” He laughed, watching your face as you examined them carefully. He could stare at you for hours. You didn’t have to know the exact townsperson Joel bribed to get him those flowers ASAP and you certainly didn’t have to know the extra rations it took for him to keep quiet about it. Joel making an emergency request for flowers? Unheard of. And it will stay that way too.
“I don’t know what to say.” You said, breathless from inhaling the scents in front of you. “Maybe a ‘Thank you’, ‘Please come in’, ‘I have wine’.” Joel teased. You rolled your eyes and cleared the path for him to enter.
He was quick to follow you to your kitchen where you grabbed two glasses and filled them just under halfway. You both silently toast to each other and take a sip. The wine is sweet, but has a slightly bitter taste that lingers. And then, there was that silence. It slipped over both of you like a comforting fog. Both of you comforted each other just by being near one another. You were in sync in these moments and it felt like having a dance partner. Someone to anticipate your moves and flow with them. Being around Joel was as easy as breathing. He didn’t complicate things. In the silence his eyes were like weights on you and with every sip of your wine you felt his gaze follow your lips.
“Why did you ask me to come with you?” Joel asked, cutting through your beloved easy silence like an arrow slicing the air. You froze, not quite sure yourself. That wasn’t true, though. You were sure why you wanted him to come, but terrified of what that would mean. You scrambled for any other logical reason. A favor for Ellie? Personal interest?
“And it’s not to get me away from Ellie for a little while. She knows how to do that on her own…” He commented and you felt the heaviness at the end of his sentence. Crap. He knew you. That wasn’t his point right now. “You can bullshit everyone else, but not me, darlin’.” His southern drawl was accentuated in that nickname and it was enough to cover the nervousness in his voice. The nickname that flooded your mind constantly. The nickname that made you melt.
Finding any alternative to telling Joel your true feelings, you lied. “I didn’t want to be alone. Going alone to the movies alone is kinda lame anyways and my mom wasn’t feeling up to it.”
Joel made an ‘ah’ expression and looked away in thought. He wasn’t buying it, but it was something you clearly didn’t want to be addressed, so he dropped it for you. That doesn’t mean the real reason wasn’t swimming around his mind. Occasionally, he saw the way you looked at him. He knew you respected him and thought fondly of him. Just how fondly, he was unsure. While he hoped there was more, he couldn’t help but worry what you’d think of him. What you’d think of what he’d done to get there. What he’d done, he thought, in a way, to get to you.
“We’d better get going soon if we want to make it across town in time for it to start.” Joel commented with a clearing of his throat, taking a final swig of the wine, now long gone in both your glasses. Nodding, you quickly finished your glass and rushed to put the flowers in a spot you wouldn't forget about, meeting Joel by the door when you were done.
Twisting the key in the lock of your front door, you went to step down but felt a hand gently touch your back. Turning to Joel you saw his arm stretched out, but bent slightly. You looked at him in confusion.
“Oh c’mon…” He said, gesturing to his arm. “You know what to do.” He urged. Your blank expression answered his assumption with a resounding negative. Feeling a little ridiculous, not because of your confusion but because his own effort in sending signals were going unnoticed. He came up to you, grabbed your hand and looped it through his already-positioned arm. You smiled and said “Oh!” out loud, finally realizing what he’d been trying to do.
“Well aren’t you a gentleman.” You commented as you walked arm in arm to the gathering area the town held movie nights at, trying to ignore the way you were touching him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t before, but you’d repressed the way it made you feel before. It was beginning to be hard to hide it. Joel smiled slightly and shook his head. “Im telling you, I-”
“I know, I know, you just treat people how they want to be treated.” You finished for him. He stopped mid sentence and laughed to himself. “So you do listen.” His voice was gravelly but soft. Music to your ears. “Only when it’s you talking.”
Your response came out flirtier than you intended, the feeling overcoming both of you instantly. Despite ducking your head, avoiding his gaze, Joel felt his heart soar. “I’m a lucky man then.” It was your heart’s turn to flutter. Joel, once again plans to save the moment of being inquired upon further, noting your embarrassment. “How’s that?” You reply, desperate for every word. “I was able to get the most stubborn and independent person to actually listen. I don’t think any man has done so in history before.” Joel joked, a dramatic air to his tone, soaking every word.
You laughed at his jab and shoved his arm in response. “Yeah if you’re lucky for anything it’s because I tolerate your ass giving me a hard time.” He chuckled in response. “Now that is true.” His voice got quiet as you both approached the viewing area together. Finding a small section of grass that wasn't occupied, you and Joel grabbed one of the many chairs set out for people to use and you both sat together.
They were playing Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. A classic. Made before even Joel was born, but highly enjoyed in his childhood. He was looking forward to this movie when he heard it was the choice for the month. He was more excited about watching it with you, now. Your eyes fixated on the screen and as the movie began, everyone’s hushed voices and children's laughter all simmered to a pure silent crowd.
The movie played on like normal, maybe a glitch in the picture here and there but nothing too bad to break the feeling that comes with watching a movie. The ‘illusion’, some people call it. You’re laughing at a quip from Han to Leia when Joel subtly looks over to you. You’re too busy watching the movie to notice, but he can’t help but stare. Your eyes as they take in every moment possible, not wanting to miss out on a minute. Your lips are curved into a smile as you watch and Joel allows himself to wonder how they’d feel on him.
He notices a piece of your hair has fallen into your face and just before the thought of moving it converts to an action, you move to look up at him. Feeling panicked, he moves to scratch his nose and yawn. He stretches slowly and you look forward once more, unalarmed at first of his fidgeting. He was an older man after all. He was probably already getting stiff sitting still.
Joel’s stretch turns into an awkward hand on the back of your chair. This gets your attention. You can see his knuckles peeking over your shoulder and you wonder if the proximity was intentional. Inside, Joel is burning and tense. How could he be so stupid? The yawn and reach? Really? Did someone give him an ‘Oldest Tricks in the Book’ book?
Through his peripheral vision, he looks down to you, searching for any reason to give you any wanted space. He finds none. You’re content and still watching the movie. For the most part. In reality, your mind is reeling just as much as his.
Deciding to be a little more brave, Joel goes to rest his hand against your shoulder. Touching. He was touching you in a comforting way. Between this and walking arm in arm, just the slight contact makes him light headed. It’s been so long since he’s ‘made moves’ on anyone. He’s wracked with nerves and mostly stressed he’s lost his touch. That to you, he’s some cringe-y, single dad.
You feel his thumb starts to move against your shoulder in soft, slow, circles. Despite the motion’s intention to relax, you notice how tense he is. Looking down, his other hand is a fist, fidgeting with the hem of his flannel and you can see he’s watching the movie but every so often his eyes are darting around and down to you. It dawns on you just then that he is trying to make a move.
A mischievous smile spreads on your lips. If Joel was going to be subtle and innocent about his advancements towards you, you were ready to make this as easy on him as possible. After all, the man has been through hell and does deserve a win. Your mind ran a million miles an hour just picturing what might come next. Your attraction to him was at least somewhat reciprocated. It made thinking straight hard, but you knew you had to find some way to show him that he is more than welcome to be more comfortable with you.
You grin to yourself, knowing your plan is in place and you’re too excited to think of previous insecurities of his attraction to you. His sweaty palms and arm on your shoulder proved enough. Sighing lightly, you also feign fatigue, and carefully rest your head on Joel's shoulder.
You feel his upper torso tense and then relax as he processes what you’ve done. Feeling yourself move a bit to get more comfortable, he takes the opportunity to relax his own muscles, recognizing just how stiff they were beginning to get, and he moves his arm to fully drape over you and pull you in. His muscles loosening underneath you is your sign to move an arm over to rest on his leg.
His muscles were taught underneath his jeans. You felt the sweat on his palms, but it didn’t bother you. It actually made you smile. Joel Miller. A tough Texan who rarely let others in was a nervous wreck trying to get close to you. You stifled a giggle and adjusted yourself to be slightly more pressed into his body, almost crossing your leg with his.
Joel could hardly breathe. You were playing into it. It crossed his mind that maybe you’re being nice and don’t want to reject him. But he also noticed your hand on his thigh and how you sometimes would trace shapes or squeeze it lovingly there. It made him feel like a teenager, and he was basking in every second he got to feel his hand on your waist.
The only reason you both noticed the movie ended was when others began to stand up, grab their seats and the floodlights that lit the area came on. It made both of you jump a bit but no one rushed to untangle themselves from the other. He looked over to you, who began to slowly get up from where you were, cool air running over what had once been covered in warmth on his side. He tried to ignore the emptiness he felt without you being next to him so close, having grown accustomed to it for a couple hours.
“So…” You trailed off, not really sure what to say. Your anxiety was through the roof. Both of you weren’t sure if you should address what just happened, or go back to business as usual. Joel spoke before you could. “Let me walk you home.” He quickly insisted, standing and holding a hand to you. You smiled and took it, feeling a bit nervous. You knew if you didn’t address it immediately, it would definitely happen later. You hoped when he got to your door.
The walk home was quiet for the most part. A few comments on the movie, Joel told you a part he’s loved since he was young. You noted how nice it is to be able to do this despite the world’s circumstances. He agreed.
You’d just turned onto your street when Joel spoke again. “Can we talk?” He stopped mid step. It was a rare moment of bravery from him you wrote off as uncharacteristic. Startled by the abruptness, you stopped as well, disconnecting from his hand but not wanting to.
He watched as your arm fell back to your side. With a strong huff of air, he covered his mouth in stress. “I don’t know how to say this.” He said, honestly. You dreaded the worst. He’s going to tell you he doesn’t want this- or anything more. This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to go home with you.
“Start with the first word.” You suggested, hoping you’d spark anything to get him to spit out what he was trying to say faster. Like a bandaid, you wanted the end of this to be quick and easy.
“You.” Joel said, clearly having more but working through how to put it. You gave him pause to gather his thoughts. “Y’know, you’re always on my mind but we don’t talk and then today you ask me to see the movies, but it’s just because you don’t want to go alone…” He begins to ramble. “Which I know is bullshit because you don’t mind going places by yourself.” Your breath hitches in your throat. He’s seen you this whole time. Why has he not said anything? Done anything?
“And then you spend half the damn movie basically in my lap and darlin’”- That nickname. “I am trying to be as respectful as possible but you just look so beautiful all the damn time and after tonight I don’t know if you feel the same, but I-I need to know. So I know what I can and can’t say to you. Say the word and I promise I’ll never touch you in that way.”
Dumbfounded, you just looked at him, mouth slightly open. It was the most Joel had ever said at one time to you, ever. He never vented. He spoke but in small bits and it was straightforward. He knew what to say. He always knew what to say. But around you he didn’t.
That one small fact had you lightheaded. And then his words dawned on you. Say the word and I promise I’ll never touch you in that way.
“No!” You blurted out. “I mean, I want you to touch me.” You cringed at how awkward it came out. “I mean…” A laugh from yourself blurted out at how hard this really was to put into words. “What do you want to say to me?” Settling on that, you looked into his eyes and found them pouring into yours. He’d smiled and chuckled in relief at your nervousness, giving him enough of an answer. Stepping forward, he traced the side of your face with a calloused finger, stopping after moving hair behind your ear. It gave you chills.
“I want to say,” He paused, looping a hand around your waist. “That I’ve been waiting to get you in my arms since we first met.” His words were enough to make the coldest person alive melt. “And you’re the only one who has got me wrapped around their finger like you.” His low voice rumbled in your chest as he closed some of the distance between you. He paused. Searching your eyes for any kind of resistance, hesitation… regret. He found none.
“I was going to say the same thing.” You grinned, closing any space between the both of you. His lips were rough on yours, his beard prickling the edges of your cheeks. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you sank into his grasp.
Joel felt like this was who he was supposed to be kissing. Who’s skin he was meant to be touching. His heart was thundering in his chest. He’d been falling for you for so long, he forgot the possibility that you’d possibly feel the same and settled on the idea you were better off without him. He knew now, under your grip which was soft but commanding all at once, you were just as deep in pining after him in return.
In reality, you kissed like that under the low street lighting for three minutes. It felt like an hour. Pulling away felt like diving underwater, far away from oxygen. Barely a foot apart and yet it felt so far.
“Do you want to come inside when we get back?” You asked, breathless. He chuckled, lips curving into a smile to match your own. “I want nothing more, sweetheart.” Joel’s gravelly tone lulled. It was rich with care and lust. Damn that voice. The voice that would drift you to sleep that night, whispering sweet praises under sheets you’d only slept in alone prior. It felt nice to have his breath on your neck, his bare legs tangled with yours, his soft skin on yours until morning. Ellie got the privacy she needed, and Joel got the night he deserved.
You’d worry about what to tell your mother some other time.
thank you guys for reading! hope you enjoyed. this has been my first official fully finished fic since returning to tumblr! i appreciate everyone's support :))
i say this every year but tumblr didn’t start doing april fools’ gimmicks until 2014. one year previous, April 1st, 2013, was a certain Incident that i am CONVINCED caused @staff to think “we have to make an april fools’ theme ourselves, because if left to their own devices, they’ll do… That”
-> always running into him at the most random times. in the elevator or the lovey super late at night or bright and early in the morning. When he’s on his way to a job and you’re coming back from work. Or you’re on your way to study at the library and he’s got his keys and a bag of groceries in his hands. Always giving you a little nod of acknowledgment but neither of you ever have the courage to speak. To actually say hi.
-> until one day where you get locked out of your apartment. You lost your keys or something. And with your luck, your roommate works the night shift at the hospital. You’ve got no way in until morning.
-> So you find yourself stuck. An hour goes by and you’re sitting on the dirty carpet hallway floor. Leaned up against the wall. Eyes fluttering closed because hell it’s been a long day. Frank, on his way home from work, makes his ways down the hall. Concerned at first by the sight of your body laying in the hall. But he gets to his door and it’s just you, half asleep. You give him a soft smile and he finally asks you for your name. You explain your situation and he nods in understanding.
“Well don’t just sit there. C’mon.” He’d wave you into his place, lunchbox in hand. Dirty from a day of construction. In desperate need of a shower and some food.
-> you’re reluctant to come in. Not because of Frank. Or at least not because you didn’t like him. More so… the opposite. You found him intimidating. Handsome. Rugged. You always enjoyed running into him. Smiling at him in the elevator. Trying not to blush too hard. But there’s just this aura about him that makes you a little nervous. Butterflies or something.
-> he’d tell you to make yourself at home while you wait to get ahold of your roommate. Or come up with a plan to get your keys. To call the landlord. Though you doubt they’d answer at this hour.
-> he asks if you’re alright if he showers, “I’ll be quick. You can help yourself to the fridge.” He even grabs you a beer and places it on the table in front of you. Cracking one for himself as he heads for the washroom.
-> it feels weird. Being in a strangers home. It’s empty. Sad almost. Grey walls. Nothing… personal. Nothing that tells you anything about the man. It’s clean. As clean as any of the suites in you cheap ass apartment can possibly get. But it’s bland. It’s a bachelor suite. He’s got nothing more than the necessities. The basics. You can’t help but think about Frank. In this apartment. Every night by himself. He must be lonely.
-> you saunter over to the fridge. Not particularly hungry, but feeling slightly awkward just sitting at his table and doing nothing. There’s enough to make a weeks worth of sandwiches. And a more than a few weeks worth of beer. You take a swig of your bottle.
-> when the water shuts off, you get back to your spot at the table. Checking your phone. The messages with your roommate. He’s probably busy. Drawing blood. Stitching people up. Doing whatever it is he does as a surgical intern.
-> “you get ahold of him?” Franks voice brings you back.
“Oh, no. He’s- he’s probably busy. Works at the hospital so… um… thanks for inviting me in, but uh, I can just wait out there.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, getting up to leave.
“Wait out there? All night?” He asks. Your gaze goes down to his shirt. A little damp where beads of water are running down his neck. Off his beard. You look back up. He’s got such pretty eyes, you notice.
“Yeah, i’ll be alright.” You give him a tight lipped smile. But he’s not having it.
He shakes his head, “here,” he grabs a blanket from the supply closet. And a pillow. A pillowcase. He fumbles with the makeshift bedding for a moment until he makes the couch up. It does look nicer than the stained hallway carpet.
“You can’t stay out there. There’s some real… weirdos in this area. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you.” His concern makes your stomach flutter. Even if it’s just human decency. Courtesy of not wanting you to get mugged or murdered.
“You really don’t have to-“ you try to deny the offer but he grabs your bag. Gently pulling it off your shoulders and placing it against the wall.
“It’s just for the night. I don’t mind. Seriously.” His eyes are serious. Brows furrowed in concern.
-> the couch is cozier than you expected. Worn and used in the most perfect way. It takes you no time to fall asleep. Frank on the other hand, is having some serious insomnia. There’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, right outside his bedroom. Sleeping on his couch. Probably making his blanket smell like her vanilla perfume. It’s making his brain all fuzzy. He can’t think. Well, he can’t not think. You’re wearing one of his tee shirts. He offered it up. No, he insisted. And when saying goodnight from his bedroom doorway, he couldn’t help but notice that your pants were folded up on top of your bag, and your bare legs gleamed in the dim light of the living room, as you fluffed up your pillow.
-> the two of you had some very interesting dreams that night.
-> Waking up to the smell of coffee, you’re blushing hard when he hands you a mug. He tells you he has to leave for work. Lunchbox in hand, jacket on.
-> He didn’t ask for his shirt back.
-> you wave Frank goodbye as you watch him head down the hallway, and at the same time, you see your roommate come out of the elevator at the end. Both of them exchange a nod and a glance. Your roommate jogs up to let you both into your place.
“You coulda came to the hospital. Coulda grabbed my keys,” he says plopping himself down on the couch. Rubbing his eyes. Long night for him as well.
“I didn’t even think about it. He just- Frank invited me in and I was so tired… I mean, it seemed like a better option than sleeping in the hall…”
“Well it was real nice of him. Maybe you should make him a dish or somethin’. Lasagna? Y’know, to say thank you.”
“You just want some lasagna don’t you?” You smirk, rolling your eyes.
Your roommate smiles back. A low chuckle escapes his throat. “The man let you sleep on his couch. You better be sayin’ thank you somehow.”
(Idk what this is tbh but um… let me know what we think??)
nothing gives me more peace than knowing that love will come back to me in many ways and different forms. i may have no idea what the future holds for me but at least there will be love. & a lot of it
summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface.
pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
warnings/tags 🏷️ Bill and Frank! Not really a warning, I am just obsessed. Set a few years before series timeline, salt and pepper daddy Joel but not all out quite yet. Implied age gap (reader in her mid to late twenties, Joel is in his earlyish fifties). Soft!Joel, but not too soft. Dash of angst, a bit of fluff, and lots of Frank because he is a sweetheart.
word count: 5.3k
“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolded lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moved his hands back up to your hair, which was out of its usual braid and towel dried after a very much needed wash. The sweet scent of the vanilla shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingered deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing change from what your hair normally smelled like: grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the QZ. After combing out all of the stubborn tangles that he could find, Frank then picked up a boar hairbrush and he carefully began to run it through your locks. He started from the roots of your hair and brought the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”
You sighed softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he had you perched on before giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” You mumbled. You brought your knees up against your chest and let out another small sigh. You could picture the small, satisfied smile on Frank’s face as he continued brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” You questioned him just a minute later, as if he hadn’t already explained it to you a dozen times; he wanted to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think?”
“We’re doing this because you deserve get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank stated as a matter of factly. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it's something of a special occasion today. It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”
You couldn’t help the way the corners of your mouth turned upwards into a small smile. One might think that was kind of silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you had to admit it, you admired the way Frank managed to find genuine happiness in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looked like. He had such a beautiful soul, something very, very people in this new world possessed.
“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observed a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. He took two handfuls of your hair from the front, twisting them gently and bringing them around to the back of your head. Frank secured them with a clear elastic band and then ran his fingers through your locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascaded perfectly around your shoulders in long, natural waves. He walked around your chair to face you, fussing until he made sure that every stand was neatly in place. “You should wear your hair down more often. It suits you.”
“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” You laughed, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the QZ require anyone who has long hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You pushed your legs out away from your chest and planted your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my usual, greasy old clothes.”
“Exactly. So why not just zip it and enjoy all of this while it lasts?” He suggested with a tiny grin.
“But Frank—”
“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He took your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and you reluctantly did as you were told. Frank led you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open them.”
Your eyes fluttered open and your mouth parted slightly in surprise.
“What the fuck,” You murmured under your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looked absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of rosy blush on your cheekbones and the thin coat of decades old mascara (that could not be healthy to put near your eyes, could it?) that he’d applied to your lashes; the tube had been bone dry, but Frank used a bit of water to bring it back to life.
Then there was the dress, oh god, the fucking dress he’d forced you into. His favorite part and your least favorite.
Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it got too chilly later.
“You look perfect,” he gushed.
You looked different. But that wasn’t exactly what shocked you. More than anything, you were taken aback by how normal you looked.
Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, to wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in the QZ. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.
You didn’t think that you could ever look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.
Frank must have sensed how you were feeling. Still standing behind you, he placed his two hands on your shoulders and leaned his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes met your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve that much.”
Your lips parted slightly and you tried to speak, but words fell short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamped your mouth shut and gave him the tiniest little nod.
Frank smiled. “Good. Come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands dropped from your shoulders and he ushered you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a wink. “I’m eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”
“What?” You sputtered out, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”
Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.
What was he going to say when he saw you like this?
What would he think?
Probably that you looked utterly fucking ridiculous.
“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorted. “Yes, Joel.”
You glared at his back. This wasn’t the first time Frank had teased you about Joel, and despite the countless times that you assured him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insisted on believing otherwise. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”
“He might as well be,” Frank shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he led you down the staircase.
“Frank, I’m being serious,” You said. Normally, you weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you weren’t finding his antics amusing in the slightest; not while you were wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You paused briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and added in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. That’s it.”
Frank stopped at the bottom of the staircase and turned to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, sleep in the same bed together, spend every waking moment from sunrise to sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”
Stubborn, you tried again. “He’s like fifty!”
“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap? Please.”
“Frank,” You nearly pleaded his name. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”
He threw his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoed in the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a lot of Bill,” he mused. He noticed the horrified expression that crossed your face and laughed again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way.”
“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” You had to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.
“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what’s his,” he further explained. He took a brief pause before questioning, “You trust him, right?”
You didn’t even miss a beat, answering, “With my life.”
He ticked an index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly! You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”
You stared at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”
Frank rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel.”
For a moment, it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of you.
Could Frank actually be right? Did you actually mean something to Joel?
No, that was impossible. Joel didn’t really give a shit about anything, except for surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day. And even then, he didn’t speak of his younger brother too kindly.
“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmered, speaking a truth he’d been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”
“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” You confessed, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a long sigh. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”
Frank bit his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, darling. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Your eyebrows came together, confused. “What? Realize what?”
“You are his weakness.”
He said it so simply, and yet there went the rest of your air leaving your lungs.
“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarked, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.
“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” You countered, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky to him as it did to you.
“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He spoke gently, but with such seriousness that made your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.
When you spoke again, your voice was strained, thick with emotion you were trying desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the romance novels.” Before he could say another word to you about it, you placed a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”
Thankfully, he took the hint to drop the subject.
“Of course.” Frank took your hand. He opened the front door and led you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.
As soon as he saw you two approaching, Bill threw his hands up. “It’s about damn time!” He grouched loudly. “Jesus, Frank. I’m starving!”
“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tossed his partner a sweet smile as he released your hand. “Look, I found myself something pretty!”
You blushed. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about you. “Frank, please.”
“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”
Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrowed his eyebrows and he glanced over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widened just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown hair might have even had a comb run through it, but it was difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.
“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beamed proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.
Joel didn’t respond. His eyes remained glued on you, following as you walked around the table and took your usual spot beside him.
“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” You muttered, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticked by. You silently urged yourself to get a grip as you reached for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and draped it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up smelled heavenly—Frank knew it was your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu.
Joel still hadn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hoped he wouldn’t.
“Joel?” Frank prompted as he picked up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
You glared daggers at him from across the table and hissed, “Frank!”
Finally, Joel set down his glass of wine and turned slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he spoke, his voice was low, but clear as day as he looked at you, “She looks very pretty.”
His eyes flicked up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest. Had he actually meant that?
“You look real nice,” he added, giving a subtle nod of his head. He let his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He turned back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again. He chugged what was left of it and then reached for the bottle, pouring himself another.
Bill cleared his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”
Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant. Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies.
As you tucked into your meal of rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grim caked onto your skin and in your hair. Surely he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his work partner.
About an hour later, once everyone had finished eating, you offered to help Frank clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settled for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shooed you away before you could even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he said, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hand. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggested. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like, go check them out.”
“But I forgot my library card at home,” You joked lamely, although it earned you a sincere laugh from your friend. You padded out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that was packed tightly with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months. You started searching among the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you picked it up, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you started thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing it was a play—you’d never read a play before. Still not convinced if it was one you would like to take home with you, you flipped back to the first page and started reading with a curious little, “Hmm.”
You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he cleared his throat, and asked, “Find somethin’ good?”
Startled, you whirled around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” You breathed out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate returned to normal. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Not my fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he stated, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrossed his arms and pushed himself away from the doorframe.
A chuckle escaped you, almost nervously, as he slowly started walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floors. He took the book from your hands, giving a low hum as he read the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”
“You know Shakespeare?” You tossed him a teeny, lopsided smile as you teased, “He from your time?”
Joel lightly smacked your arm with the worn paperback. “Yes, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flipped it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He handed it back over to you. “Here.”
“Sounds like a real dream,” You deadpanned. You glanced down, running your index finger down the cover. You were trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes were glazing over you from head to toe.
“It’s kinda nice,” he said quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”
You kept your eyes fixed on the book. “What? In a dress?”
“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He paused, then added, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even better, though.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. More than his words, it was the genuine tone in which he said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.
You forced a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his eyes, you turned around and walked over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shoved the book inside. When you heard Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffened slightly.
“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel remarked. He seemed to hesitate, but then continued, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay?”
“You kidding?” You scoffed in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that.”
Joel’s hands went to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”
You finally turned around and were caught a little off guard by how close he was standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raised an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something?”
Joel quickly shook his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that…” He stopped and lowered his voice just in case Bill or Frank happened to be nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugged his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content…” He trailed off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence. You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know with Frank’s help, we could talk Bill into it.”
The second you realized Joel was being serious, your smile faded a little. “What? But what about you?”
“Frank’s good, but he’s not a damn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admitted, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”
Bill and Joel being neighbors?
Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, You thought to yourself.
“I know that much,” You replied with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”
“That’s no fuckin’ life—”
You held up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”
The rough creases on his forehead suddenly softened. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen. The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.
“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy, not without you.”
Joel tilted his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”
“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body could even make the connection, you found yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You looked up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”
Joel’s exhaled a breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.
“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” You declared, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were finding the balls to confess all of this to him.
“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”
“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”
You lifted your hand to his face. At first, there was hesitation on your part, but you willed yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch was gentle, Joel couldn’t help but wince. Not because he didn’t want it, but because it had been so damn long since anyone had ever touched him like that. Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. He closed his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allowed himself to relax his tense muscles and sink into your touch.
Joel let himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gave a subtle tremble when you softly started to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully teased him about now that it was beginning to gray just like his hair, felt rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.
“Hey,” You murmured, and he forced his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” You assured him. “My place is with you, Joel.”
Joel managed to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that.”
You carefully moved your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”
“Because.” His voice was hoarse. “Shit like that is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” You repeated, almost laughing. “Of all the things…”
Then, Frank’s words from earlier came to mind.
You’re his weakness. He knows how dangerous having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this ...
Joel’s dark eyes flickered to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and pulled it up back into place, his rough fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmured under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.
“Joel…” Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.
“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he started to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish, but I’m glad you said it. Because no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”
Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lifted yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with filled your senses and you yearned to have more of him, you nearly ached to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knew to take over from here. One of his arms found its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reached up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swiped lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.
You eagerly granted him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.
Much to your surprise, Joel remained gentle.
The way that he kissed you, the way he held your body against his, the way his calloused hand delicately cradled the side of your face…
“Joel,” You nearly whimpered his name when he broke away. His face remained just inches from yours.
“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon...”
“I know.” You nodded. You could sense that Joel, much like yourself, was at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly didn’t, but the realization that you two had just crossed a line you could never come back from was daunting.
Joel lifted his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forced himself to release you from his arms and stepped back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill, get my pack ready before we take off.”
You nodded again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You paused, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened...”
He silently shook his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.
This kiss was short and quick, and when he pulled away, he said nothing. He turned on the heel of his boot and disappeared, heading out to meet Bill in the basement.
Your hand flew to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.
“Well, well, well.”
Looking over your shoulder, your face flushed a deep shade of red when you saw Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a satisfied, smug expression on his face.
“How long have you been standing back there?”
“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you could detect the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”
You turned away from him, biting your lower lip.
So maybe he’d been right after all.
Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. But he was yours too.
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