RATING: Explicit (18+ only) | PAIRING: Joel x ofc (reader format/pov) WORD COUNT: 8.8k CW: Brief description of a panic attack.

SUMMARY: You and Joel prepare for your trip as your families catch on.

There’s something he isn’t saying, and you know what it is. Or you think you do. You’re pretty sure. From the frame of your hands, a palm on each of his cheeks, his jaw knots as he nods. Silent confirmation if you’ve ever seen it, his meaning plain in his eyes. Those dark pools of bronze and umber that could melt you with a single look seem to clear. Not a brightening, a clarity. He is okay. And at least for right now, part of the reason is you. You could tell him right here in his bedroom. Sarah’s at soccer practice. You have the time.  It looks like he wants to tell you.

💌 you can follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications or subscribe on ao3 to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+ only) | PAIRING: Joel x ofc (reader format/pov) WORD COUNT: 7k CW: Some sneaking around. brief reference to divorce / past relationships.

SUMMARY: Joel makes good on his promise of hosting a slumber party.

Wiping his hand on the towel he’s got thrown over one shoulder, he looks down just in time to catch you eyeing him knowingly. Your hair’s down and crimped like you’ve had it in a braid, and you're wearing that blue cardigan that he likes, old and a little shabby—your words, not his. Soft. Exactly what he wants and everything he didn’t know he needed and now lives doomed to crave. “If you feed me too well I might never leave,” you warn him. “Could say the same thing to you, darlin’.” You grin, scampish. “You think that’s an accident?”

💌 you can follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Frankie Morales x ofc (reader format/pov) WORD COUNT: 12.9k CW: Reference to / conversations about drug use, addiction, NA, and divorce. Implied DA of a background character, one brief (vague) mention of it - NOT against reader, NOT described, and NOT shown. so much angst I'm sorry in advance.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You and Frankie navigate your reunion as the storm closes in.

You oughta get your punches in, Pen. He’d let you. He’d take it. Instead you walk with your jaw locked shut, your arms folded tight over your coat as the leafs of it whip and crack in the headwind, both of you pushing through brick and stone alleys, leaning into the bullying weather. Granted, the wind’s gotten so bad you’d have to shout to be heard, but still. He already misses the sound of your voice, now matter how stupid that is. You could say anything and he’d be grateful for it. Frankly it’s fucking alarming, how desperate you make him even now, when everything feels wrong but you still look just the right size to tuck into his arms. Stupid. He shakes his head at his feet and knows that you see it, but you don’t ask. You just walk. 

💌 you can follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications or subscribe on ao3 to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+ only) | PAIRING: Joel x ofc (reader format/pov) WORD COUNT: 7.9k CW: Smut (oral f!receiving, unprotected piv, overstimulation, reference to a safe word (not used), multiple orgasms, creampie) discussions of divorce, breakups, and past relationships.

SUMMARY: As spring comes, you face a decision that's been looming for months.

There has been comfort and then there is this: the flint in his eyes sparking gold anytime you draw close enough to touch. When you get him laughing in that way that throws his head back. When you sink into his lap. When you look up, feeling the ghost of his hand graze your waist in the grocery store. You catch yourself—as spring thaws the last of the cold and green punches through the frost-bitten sidewalks—thinking of the question you’ve never let yourself ask aloud. What was all of this for.  You catch yourself almost believing it was for him. 

💌 you can follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 7k CW: Mild allusion to canon-typical violence and danger, but this is fluff. though tbh joel in glasses should probably be its own warning.

Later, it will be funny. The way you shrug and think nothing of his offer as you agree. You’re too busy thinking about the crooked screw in the wall to catch fate’s hands moving you into its path, happily.

💌 you can follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates, or subscribe on ao3!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 8.3k 🩸CW: Descriptions of blood and minor injury. yearning of the highest order. a pouting, brooding man who is not that cute about it, but I guess we’ll forgive him just this once.

SUMMARY: After a kitchen mishap, you and Max rendezvous for a late night conversation—a real one, this time.

Beneath the clatter of pill bottles and ker-thunk of your curling iron falling from its perch, the apartment is silent as a cemetery after midnight. Quiet enough he might hear the tiny sound of your ichor plinking softly on the kitchen floor if he were listening to you at all. A growl rips up his throat, bloody as a fist and just as frustrated. Where the hell did you squirrel them? He had a system, for fuck’s sake—and for this fucking reason, for emergencies! But when Max marches back into the kitchen, hellbent on reaming you out for messing with his immaculate organization, he skids to a stop. Cartoon dust clouds probably balloon from his heels.  You, red hand cradled to your chest, stand awestruck on the other side of the kitchen island. Eyes wide, too-white, barely blinking. It gives him a terrible chill.

• Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
• Pairing: ghost!Max Phillips x f!Reader
• FULL LIST OF SERIES CONTENT WARNINGS can be found on the series masterlist.

SERIES SUMMARY: After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in. Now he'll do anything it takes to have you. OR: the ghost in your apartment wants you desperately.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After a kitchen mishap, you and Max rendezvous for a late night conversation—a real one, this time.

NOTE: I have officially moved away from tag lists, so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 2.6k PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader PROMPT: A long-distance relationship blossoms through emails, but the tension of being apart grows. CW: This is pretty goofy, a tiny bit sort of almost angsty, but mostly just silly. Reader uses a fake name.

From: Dawn <givemethewiggins@gmail.com> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 9:39 AM To: <mp-1260-sdkss9200043239921@sale.craigslist.org> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

RATING: Explicit (18+ only) | PAIRING: Joel x f!Reader / OC (Ellie's aunt) WORD COUNT: 6.6k CW: Reference/allusion to smut, YEARNING (always yearning), and so much lovesick!joel I've got a toothache.

SUMMARY: Joel is tired of being a coward.

Hmph-ing, Sarah unwinds herself from your arms and treads into the kitchen. It was a valiant effort, really. And it takes no small amount of diligence not to go over there and take his turn hugging you, too. Hugging hello—a thing you’ve never done, only goodbye. He considers it, even gets one foot nudging closer before he swallows the urge for good. Takes that one step back, leaves the space. Can’t trust himself not to hold you too long, he thinks. Can’t trust himself not to kiss you if you’re in his arms. With Sarah’s back turned, you meet his eye and shrug, mouth Good?  He nods. Grins softly at you, because yeah. He thinks it’s going just fine, so long as no one overhears the throb of his heart.

💌 NOTE: I have officially moved away from tag lists, so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 4.7k PAIRING: Javier Peña x f!Reader CW: this be fluff, don't worry. reader is mid 30s. I've made up so much bullshit about the film industry/movie sets that is 100% grossly incorrect, I'm so sorry.

With a nod, you’re gone. Out into the sprawl of white-doored trailers parked in the lot outside the studio. From above they must look like little Lego blocks laid out on an asphalt mat, but from where you’re standing they menace like a jaw of crooked, layered teeth. So far you’ve mercifully been kept away from the talent, allowing you to remain invisible to all except the temperamental director who asks you to fiddle with lines until they sing just the right note—it’s been nice. Quiet.  It seems that protection has met its end.

SUMMARY: Ten years after meeting Joel and Tess, you send out a signal that things at the compound have gone south.

Now he’s here, just a black cutout against bleached hills, watching you sheath your knife, crack the safety off your gun to toss it aside—it lands with a heavy clatter against the echo of what once was a yellow stripe in the road.  You want to run, why? Not away for once, toward something. 

• Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
• Pairing: Joel x f!Reader OC (Bill's Niece)
• FULL LIST OF SERIES CONTENT WARNINGS can be found on the series masterlist.

SERIES SUMMARY: You're less than enthusiastic when your uncle's partner Frank invites two strangers from the Boston QZ to your compound to trade. Joel Miller proves just as callous as you and brutishly stubborn—but after a cutting first impression, a bloody inconvenience, and a long walk through infested woods, you're not sure if the fire you carry for him is actually hate.

EPILOGUE SUMMARY: Ten years after meeting Joel and Tess, you send out a signal that things at the compound have gone south.

• Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
• Pairing: Young!Joel x f!Reader OC (Ellie's aunt)
• Word Count: 7.2k
• CW: This is at least half filth - I’m not gonna pretend otherwise. Smut, allusion to semi-public sex, and… pining. Obviously. Mention of/reference to divorce, past relationships, etc.

SUMMARY: You find yourself at a crossroads after spending the night at Joel's.

With one elbow resting where he’s rolled his window down and the opposite hand on the wheel, you’re not sure he’s ever looked so relaxed, his posture unwound and loose. His stubbled chin tilted up, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips even after the smirking is done and his eyes have returned to the road. Is it pride he’s wearing now? It might be, and despite the strife of your flesh you think it suits him, whatever it is. Joel has always been beautiful—often to your great dismay—but he’s brighter like this, so at ease. Incandescent.

NOTE:I am officially moving away from tag lists as they've gotten lengthy (thank you for that <3) so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.2k | CW: Established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, brief reference to canon-typical violence / danger / the end of the world, but you're safe.

• Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
• Pairing: Young!Joel x f!Reader OC (Ellie's aunt)
• Word Count: 7.2k
• CW: Tooth-rotting fluff. seriously. smutty thoughts/allusions to smut, the most lovesick man on the planet, mention of unplanned pregnancy (Sarah's mom's) and the death of a parent.

SUMMARY: Joel takes you out—for real this time.

What is it about you that does this to him? Makes him playful and goofy, mirthful as he lifts one hand to his door, toggling the lock. Your eyes widen a touch as you realize what he’s done, but by the time you pull on the handle it’s too late. He’s locked it again. The door doesn’t budge. You huff, sending a tendril of your hair floating up with the heat of your breath. “Can do this all day,” he grins. “S’ never not funny.”

NOTE: I am officially moving away from tag lists as they've gotten lengthy (thank you for that <3) so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Frankie Morales x f!Reader OC WORD COUNT: 6.2k CW: Reference to / implied drug use. Brief mention of smut. (Sort of) implied DA of a background character - NOT reader, NOT described, and NOT shown. Plenty of angst, oops.

SUMMARY: More than a decade after your painful breakup, your mom calls with news: a letter has shown up for you from one Francisco Morales.

He didn’t write after that last visit—just let everything rot black and turn wrong. Never even called. You stopped waiting a decade ago. Did he feel it? The moment you gave up. You used to wonder. There’d been a time you would’ve sworn he could feel what you did, all those thousands of miles away, somehow. That you got whispers of him here, in this room, impossibly. “No,” you mutter softly to yourself. Then a pen’s in your hand, and you’re scrawling, NO LONGER AT THIS ADDRESS — RETURN TO SENDER across the front of the envelope.  You carry it downstairs, down the hall, out the front door, and stab it back into the mailbox to be collected in the morning, unopened. When you return your mother is kind enough not to breathe a word of it again all day.