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#pedro pascal imagine
stylesispunk · 1 day
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
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coffeeshades · 2 days
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credits to the gif maker!
LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII
summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.
pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.
word count: 6.3k
warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!
a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3
masterlist!
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Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.
Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.
A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.
She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.
Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.
Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.
After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.
By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.
One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.
Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.
Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.
Until it didn’t.
That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.
But it didn’t feel enough.
Not then, not now.
•••
Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.
The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.
You picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.
“Hey.”
There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.
“Oh. It’s you.”
His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”
A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”
He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."
“Thank you, Pedro.”
The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.
“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”
“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”
Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.
“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."
You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.
Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.
When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.
So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.
It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.
His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.
Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.
Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.
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April 11, 2021
London, England
Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.
She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.
That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.
He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.
Pedro ignored most of it.
Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.
There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.
The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.
That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.
For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.
Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.
When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.
A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.
No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”
That was it.
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July 10, 2021
Alberta, Canada
Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.
Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.
He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.
But, like always, there was nothing.
Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.
Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.
As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.
"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."
The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"
"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."
Pedro’s heart clenched.
"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"
You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."
Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.
Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.
In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.
•••
When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.
The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.
Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.
"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."
"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."
Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."
Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."
•••
For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.
The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.
And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.
You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.
You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.
The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.
When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.
Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"
Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.
You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.
"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."
You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.
"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."
"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."
"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."
Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.
There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.
Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.
The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.
She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?
Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."
Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."
•••
Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.
One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.
What would it change? What did it matter?
You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.
In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.
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February 7, 2022
Los Angeles, California
The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.
“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”
You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.
“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”
You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”
Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.
You rolled your eyes but smiled.
“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”
She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."
Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.
It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.
You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”
Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”
You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”
But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.
The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.
You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.
There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.
It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.
She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.
One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.
“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.
“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.
“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.
But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.
The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.
“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”
You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.
•••
You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.
The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.
He's better off; he might not even notice.
The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.
That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.
The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.
It was a bittersweet realization.
By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.
You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.
Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.
But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.
Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”
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May 29, 2022
Los Angeles, California
Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.
It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.
But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.
Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.
“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”
Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.
He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.
•••
By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.
The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.
•••
November 22, 2022
Miami, Florida
The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.
But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.
“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.
“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.
“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”
Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”
Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”
Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”
Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.
"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."
Lux didn’t say anything.
Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."
Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”
Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."
Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"
Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”
Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."
He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.
Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"
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a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)
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umadosedepascal · 1 day
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GENERAL MARCVS ACACIVS…CLAIM MY PUSSY!! Pss psss psss 🫦
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Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k
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Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotected p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀
P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.
He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.
His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.
Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.
His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.
Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.
You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.
You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.
“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.
“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.
Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”
Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.
He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.
You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.
You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.
“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”
“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.
“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.
“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.
“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”
His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.
He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”
That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.
“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.
Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.
“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.
The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.
He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.
You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.
“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”
You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.
He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.
His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.
He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.
“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.
You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.
“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.
When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.
You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to himself than to you.
“Perfect and mine.”
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pedrospatch · 2 years
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weakness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 5.7k
“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you 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 moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”
You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”
“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d 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,” he adds. “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 can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 
“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”
“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “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 normal clothes.”
“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.
“But Frank—”
“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 
“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 
“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”
Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”
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, pulling the fabric taut. 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 became too chilly outside. 
“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”
You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 
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, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.
You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 
Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 
Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”
“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”
Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.
What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?
What’s he going to think?
Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.
“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”
You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”
“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.
“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”
Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”
Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”
“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”
“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “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 throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through 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 whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs 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 fucking 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. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”
“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have 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 is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”
You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”
He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “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 stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”
Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”
For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 
Could Frank actually be right? 
Do you actually mean something to Joel?
No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.
“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s 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 confess, 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 cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “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 bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”
“You are his weakness.”
He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 
“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.
“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”
“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, 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 speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.
When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”
Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.
“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads 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 sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”
“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”
Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”
“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”
Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen 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 curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  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 beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.
Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.
“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 
Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.
“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”
Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”
His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 
Had he actually meant that?
“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 
Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”
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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. Only then would he step in. 
As you’d tucked into your meal of wild 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 so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 
Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.
About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”
“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that 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, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 
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 clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”
Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.
A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”
“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”
Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips 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 all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”
“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 
“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”
You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “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 pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had 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 force 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 gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 
When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.
“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”
“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”
Joel’s hands go 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 turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”
Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs 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 trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”
The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.
“What? But what about you?”
“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, 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 think to yourself.
“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”
“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”
You hold 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 soften. 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 here, not without you.”
Joel tilts 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 can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance 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 exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.
“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”
“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 lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 
Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 
He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.
Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.
“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces 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 assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”
Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”
You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”
“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”
Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.
He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, 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 flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, 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 starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause 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 lift 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 fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.
You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.
Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.
The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 
“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.
His face remains just inches from yours.
“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”
“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.
Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”
You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”
He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.
This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 
Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.
“Well, well, well.”
Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 
“How long have you been standing back there?”
“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”
You turn 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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talaok · 7 months
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Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader
a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)
Gif credits: @tessas-thompson
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"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.
Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.
He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.
"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror, 
You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.
"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head
You couldn't help but snort.
As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.
"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"
His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.
"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-
"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.
"she's seen worse"
She had.
Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.
"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"
You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks 
"thank you baby"
You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.
There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.
And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes
"what's wrong?" he asked, worried
"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"
"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.
He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.
"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"
"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"
"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him
"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"
"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead
He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.
"She's excited" he murmured
"She's proud of her daddy too" 
__ __ __
Pedro Pascal.
Pedro Pascal.
Pedro P-
Your husband. they had called your husband.
It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-
"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt
He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face 
"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.
You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.
"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-" 
he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going
"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"
All the sudden his eyes were on you, 
"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you" 
You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.
"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"
He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened
"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech
"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"
__ __ __ 
He did exactly as he said,
he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die
And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered
"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"
"sweetheart-"
"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you
"ok?" you asked, finally
"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"
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scrambledslut · 1 year
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i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism
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4ever-feral · 20 days
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C’mon let me bite them just a little please 🤤
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I need him so bad it’s ridiculous
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freneziwlp · 4 months
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I hate when you're away
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: Joel fucks the soreness away.
Warnings: +18 MDNI, smut smut smut ahead, unprotrected p-in-v, fingering, mentions of blowjob, cum eating, begging, horny asf Joel, eating out, daddy kink.
A/n: it's my first weekend with some time off, and what else should I be doing instead of trying my first attempt of writing smut hm hm?! Hehehe enjoy :) also, GIF ain't mine.
" Joel, baby! I'm so sore. " You whine softly as your fingers tenderly caress his tousled morning locks while he spreads warm, affectionate kisses all the way down your abdomen, tracing a path to his intended destination.
" Shhh, just relax now princess, let daddy stretch ya needy lil hole just a bit for his cock, will ya? " His thick accent sending shivers down your spine, leading you into closing your eyes, missing the way Joel spits in his fingers before smearing the sticky liquid all over your still puffy clit from last night's event, rubbing tight circles on the bud and dragging moisture up and down your pussy before shoving two dampened fingers inside you, curling his digits against your spongy walls, feeling you squeezing his fingers inside, your head falling back onto the mattress as you moans his name and bucks your hips against his palm.
Joel had spent a few weeks out due to one of his often travels around the state, doing god knows what with his most faithful partner, Tess. You used to be jealous of their proximity once you realized you had more than a crush on him, annoyed at how close she could casually be around him without making things up as an excuse to get his attention. Thankfully, the jealousy quickly went down the toilet once you found out she probably liked women more than himself did when she boldly hit on you while she was drunk, which you might even had enjoyed if you weren't so focused on seducing her partner.
You were reading a book on the living room's couch when you heard the jingle of keys unlocking you and Joel's shared apartment's door, your back sinking in an somehow uncomfortable position in the old cushions. You dropped your book aside, getting up to greet your man as he had spent long enough away from you, making you all needy for his presence and touch. To your dismay, instead of embracing you with his strong arms and whispering sweet nothings against your hair in attempt to show you how bad he had missed you, Joel didn't even look at you on his way in, dropping his seemingly weighty backpack on the floor, loud thud filling the air, before hurriedly barging in to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind him.
You froze next to where he had just gotten in, not knowing how to react to his awfully unsual demeanor. As a matter of fact, you hadn't even had time to look in his eyes, only taking a hint of his beyond smudged clothes as he stormed away from you. Concern fill your chest as you begin to try to piece the puzzle on what had happened for him to act so distressed. Had the work he went to get done gone wrong? Was he pissed at someone who deared to go against him? You even wondered if Tess had gotten fucking killed by some motherfucking clicker. An assumption that soon vanished once you hear her voice on the other side of your door, talking to someone random on the hall.
Maybe he was just sick of you, afterward. Maybe he had gotten back to his strict and fuzzy way of treating you just like he was when you first got in his and his friend's way.
Unbestknown to you, the reason Joel had ignored your presence was due a fucked up wet dream he had had in the middle of the night when camping in the woods a few days earlier, leading him into waking up with a hard and leaking cock against the restrain of his pants, furious at how he wouldn't be able to take care of it when Tess was snoring right next to him and you were miles away. He tried to ease himself the best he could, struggling whenever he'd revivid the dream where he had you all on fours as he pounded you from behind, squirting on his cock as he demanded for you to cum, referring to him as daddy.
Well fuck, the way he missed your cunt the following travelling days should be forbidden.
The second Joel left his shower he went out looking for you, not bothering to wrap himself up in a towel much less get his body dried. You were sitting down, still in the living room, blankly staring at a random wall when he found you, a hint of regret hitting him when he realized that it was probably his fault you were so quiet but the incessant throb of his cock vanished the concern away. He approached you with loud steps, your eyes widening as you take in his naked form, droplets of water tracing paths behind him and all over his shaped body onto the floor below his feet, your eyes following his whole, parking at his pelvis where his cock was standing hard against his wet stomach, tip glistening with precum. Your mouth went dry as waves of shocks found their way up to the pitch of your stomach landing onto your core, it was safe to say the image of him only took mere seconds to affect you. Joel had his glare stuck on your face, his features harsh and eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was in pain.
Joel knew that if he looked at you the moment he walked home, all sweet and loving with your big sparkly eyes staring at him, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself as he was in a dreadful need of your mouth on him, but he couldn't give in before taking a long shower, there was no way you would even want to fuck with him smelling like shit. So instead, he chose to ignore you, which wasn't the smartest choice considering you probably would have nasty second thoughts on it, but he would make things up with you the sooner he was all clean and smeeling nice. And boy, did he do.
" Hi there, doll. Have you missed me?" you nodded, speechless. " Well then why don't ya kneel for daddy and show me how much ya missed him, huh? "
The following events were all a blur, your body probably working on auto pilot as it only took seconds before Joel had himself shoved deep down your throat, hands tugging tightly around your hair as he bobbed your head against him the harder he could, desperate to fill your throat with his thick ropes of cum in attempt to get rid of the burning feeling of his need. Which obviously, wasn't enough. After making you give him head he fucked you senseless on the floor, making sure to vividly manevour you in all of the positions he had dreamt of while traveling. You and Joel spent the following hours drowning yourselves in each other's desires until there was no hint of energy left for you to keep going.
That was until he woke you up the morning after, in your shared bed, spreading warm kisses all over your face and neck, engulfing himself into the warmth of your body and silently thanking the heavens for letting him return home safe to your embrace. No matter how much of you he had taken the previous night, his cock didn't seem to take any near satisfaction from it.
He keeps fingering you until the previous soreness you'd been feeling turned into a desperate buck of your hips, wishing for him not to stop, your cunt twitching and leaking as you feel yout orgasm approaching.
" Are you ready for me, doll? " Joel towers over your laying trembling body, bending his torso so he could grab your tits, assaulting your erect buds with harsh pinches. You moans, nodding quickly " Yeah? Then beg for it, wanna hear ya say it "
He knew you hated when he made you beg, annoyed at how easily he could work his way onto your brain and manipulate you into becoming nothing but a slutty whore for him. He knew you hated that you were so easy to succumb to him, not willing to stop once you had it started.
" Oh don't ya try to stop yourself from bein' my bitch now, doll. Your pussy's dying for my cock to get it all wretched " You whimper, your core burning for him.
" Please Joel, p-please... please fuck me! Come on, ugh, I need you inside me already "
Your pleads seem to ignite fire on him as he lowers his face next to yours and smirk hungrily, like a predator scolding his prey. Joel presses his lips against yours in a harsh motion, swallowing your moans. He keeps on clutching on your tits, his free hand lowers to grab his member, holding it against your now drenched cunt. He interrupts the kiss and gets back to kneeling in front of you on the bed, he positions his throbbing cock onto your entrance, bumping on it, eliciting a loud moan from you.
" Mhmm, such a naughty lil bitch for me, all whinin' and beggin', gonna fill you up so good hun' " All of his teasing was growing impatience in you, he hell knows how to drive you insane and would never skip the opportunity of seeing you squirming underneath him " Joel, will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already? For fuck sakes! "
" So much swearing for sucha pretty lil mouth, I think someone's growing mad at me now, huh " He mocked, causing you to growl in annoyance, but before you could complain any further Joel fully knocked himself inside you with no previous warning, thrusting his hips rapidly, both of his hands wrapped around your hips, pushing you desperately against him as his face contorted in pleasure. Your arms pull him against you making his torso bend over again, face falling onto the crook of your neck as you stick your nails into the flesh of his back, scratching and pulling him closer in a way that probably would draw blood from it, which only seemed to get Joel even more turned on as his cock would fuck you harder at each second.
" Yes, yes, yes, FUCK, fuck don't stop, don't stop baby! " Joel smirks, admiring your perky tits bouncing next to his face.
" Such a good girl begging for me. Fuck, ya pussy feels so tight, squeeze daddy's cock harder baby, c'mon " Joel mutters against your neck, his warm lips popping loud pecks and bites on it, you loved the way his beard would scrape your skin while he was fucking you.
" Mhmmm yes, want you cumming inside me daddy, I know you can't get enough of m-me, oh fuck! "
" Fuck, ya know me so damn well, don't ya? Daddy's gonna cum so hard, doll. Where do ya want me huh? " Joel pounds your pussy harder at each sentence, you know he's close from cumming, his hips muscles burning and twitching from how hard he's thrusting his way inside you, loud wet noises filling the air and sweat dripping down his naked back as you keep on scratching it raw.
" I-inside me daddy, mhmm ughh fuck please please fuck... gonna cum, fuck... I'm c-cumming Joel "
Joel tried his best to delay his release, to make the addicting feeling of your pussy swallowing him last the longer it could, but how could he ever control himself when his girl was begging so beautifully for him? How could he resist the thought of cumming so hard inside you that it would make you see stars and scream his name? Joel is addicted to you in ways he had never been with any other woman and his body would always betray him on it. He wouldn't miss the opportunity of bragging about making you cum when himself had jerked off so many times to the thought of it while he was still a mere friend of yours.
Joel growls, emptying himself inside you, cock twitching abruptly as white ropes of cum paint the tight walls of your cunt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head once you reach your own orgasm, jaw hanging open before eliciting a loud whine.
When you're both finished, Joel's body falls upon yours, panting and sweating, his cock softening within your warmth. He kisses your sternum, resting his eyes and listening to your heartbeat.
He pulls his cock out of your hole and you stops breathing for a moment when you feel his hot seed dripping down your pussy, you didn't know if it was the aftershocks of your climax but you could feel something gathering on your lower belly again. You shove one of your hands in between you and Joel's body, your fingers collecting his dripping cum and smearing it upon your swollen clit, making a mess all over it, dragging a low whimper from your throat, which caught your boyfriend's attention.
" Watcha doin' down there, doll? Seems like I'm not the only one who can't get satisfied, huh? "
" Mhmm, seems like it, yes "
" Here, lemme do the work for my woman "
Joel lowers his body all the way between your legs, nipping on your belly until he finds the spot you needed him so badly. You were still recovering from your previous orgasm but there was something about you being covered in his cum that wouldn't let your nerves cool down, you needed him just one more time.
He holds one of your legs and rest it above his shoulder, licking the insides of your thigh before stopping by your pussy, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, his cock twitching for what it feels like the millionth time since he had gotten back, which almost seemed impossible but honestly, he couldn't care less about possibilities. Joel's jaw drops against your puffy core, his lips caressing your clit in a silent tease, he taste his own juices on you in a delicious mix of musky and sweet.
Lapping up your gathering moist, Joel licks and sucks on your pussy, pressing his tongue right where he knows you would die on the inside, you feel the coil building up again, tousling your fingers in his hair you pull him impossibility closer, bucking your hips on his skillful mouth, he alternates between shoving his tongue inside you and assaulting your clit with circling pressured motions. You feel as if you might explode at any time, wondering when he had learned to give head so fucking well, hints of jealousy hitting you when for a mere 2 seconds you imagine him making other women feel this way, getting interrupted by your orgasm ripping through your body.
If whenever Joel would return from a long trip he would make things up with you by giving you the pleasure of seeing him panting, face covered in your cum and a smirk on his lips after fucking you senseless for a whole night, then maybe it wouldn't be all bad having him away for a lil bit.
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stylesispunk · 2 months
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"Did the love affair maim you too?"
Joel miller x f!reader
next part
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Summary: Joel doesn't like you until he loses all his memories.
w.c: 14k> (longest piece I've written and my eyes are dry)
warnings: fluff, mention of amnesia, memory loss, ANGST and angst, and more angst because I love angst. There is smut but you already know I'm bad at writing that. No proof reading, I'm lazy, sorry.
a/n: hello! I got inspired by this "memory loss" type of story. It was supposed to be a one shoot, but I had to split the whole thing so another part is more likely to happen. I know there has been some drama surrounding writers and I want to say that every single person who writes and makes an art with that is amazing! Everyone who is reading this, please give creators here your flowers. With that being said, Happy reading or not 😭💌 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. (come on, talk to me)
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Joel didn't used to hate women, but man, when he met you for the first time, you crawled under his skin. He had fun with you, making jokes, trying to get on your nerves. For his hell, everyone in Jackson loved you; after all, you were the nurse and the sweetheart. Always looking after everyone, always being sweet to everyone.
It was a sunny afternoon when you first arrived in Jackson, your kind demeanor and skilled hands quickly gaining the trust and admiration of the townsfolk. Joel watched from a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He couldn't understand why everyone was so taken with you. To him, you seemed too soft, too gentle for the brutal world they lived in.
"Hey, Joel," Tommy called out one day, pulling Joel from his brooding thoughts. "We're heading out on patrol. You should meet the new nurse. She's something else."
Joel grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He didn't need to meet you to know what kind of person you were. In his mind, you were just another naive newcomer who wouldn't last a week.
But fate had other plans. That very evening, a group of raiders attacked the outer perimeter. The town was thrown into chaos, and Joel found himself side by side with you, defending the walls. He couldn't help but notice your bravery and the way you handled yourself under pressure.
After the attack, as the town counted its injuries and losses, you worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded. Joel watched you, his irritation growing as he saw the way everyone fawned over you, thanking you for your care.
"Think you're some kind of hero, huh?" Joel muttered as he approached you, his voice laced with sarcasm.
You looked up at him, exhaustion evident in your eyes, but you offered a small, tired smile. "Just doing my job, Joel."
"Your job?" Joel scoffed. "You think patching up a few cuts and bruises is going to keep these people safe? This world doesn't care how sweet you are."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "And what would you have me do, Joel? Let them suffer? We're all trying to survive here, and we all have our roles to play."
Joel huffed and walked away, but your words lingered in his mind. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that you were right. Over the following weeks, Joel continued to watch you, his annoyance slowly giving way to a grudging respect. He noticed how you never backed down, how you always stood your ground, even when faced with his relentless jabs.
One day, during a particularly harsh winter storm, you and Joel were sent out on a supply run. The weather was brutal, and the path was treacherous. As the wind howled around you, Joel found himself instinctively moving closer, his protective instincts kicking in despite his irritation.
"Watch your step," he warned, his voice gruff.
You nodded, shivering against the cold. "Thanks, Joel."
As you both trudged forward, the wind picked up, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. You focused on placing one foot in front of the other, barely able to see Joel a few steps ahead. Suddenly, you heard a sharp crack and a thud.
"Joel!" you shouted, fear gripping your heart.
Rushing forward, you found Joel lying on the ground, unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He must have slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock hidden beneath the snow.
Panic set in, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You needed to get him back to Jackson quickly. You checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady, then did your best to bandage the wound with the supplies you had. With great effort, you managed to lift Joel and drape him over your shoulder, carrying him back through the storm.
By the time you reached Jackson, you were exhausted and freezing, but you didn't stop until you got Joel to the infirmary. The doctors took over, treating his wound and monitoring his condition.
You sat by Joel's bedside, watching him closely. Hours passed, and eventually he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented.
"Joel?" you said softly, leaning forward.
He turned his head to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. But then, a slow, almost lazy smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Did I die and wake up in heaven?"
You blink, taken aback by his words. "Uh, Joel, it's me. Do you remember what happened?"
Joel's smile didn't waver as he looked at you. "I remember everything... except meeting you before. Are you sure we haven't met in a dream?"
You glanced at Tommy, who had just walked into the room, and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. "Joel," Tommy said cautiously, stepping closer, "do you know who I am?"
Joel's eyes shifted to Tommy, his smile fading into a look of mild frustration. "Of course I do, Tommy. You're my brother. But I'm more interested in getting to know this doll here."
Tommy exchanged bewildered looks with you. "Joel, this is… Ah. She's... well, you two never really got along."
Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, I must've been an idiot then because I can't imagine not liking someone like you."
Your heart raced, unsure how to respond to this flirtatious side of Joel, the same who hours ago was trying to crawl under your skin, the same one who had rejected you all this time. "Joel, you really don't remember me at all?"
Joel shook his head, still gazing at you with that same enamored look. "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time, and I like what I see."
Tommy scratched his head, clearly at a loss. "This is... something else. We need to figure out what happened to his memory."
You nodded, trying to process the sudden shift in Joel's demeanor. You knew the hit on the head did something to his memory, but you didn’t know how to face it. "Joel, you hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said you might have some memory loss. Maybe this is part of it."
Joel reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, if forgetting the past means I get to start over with you, I think I can live with that."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place. Perhaps butterflies are flying all around inside your tummy. "We'll take it slow, okay? There's a lot you need to know."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "As long as you're the one teaching me, I'm all in."
Tommy coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. "Alright, let's give Joel some time to rest and recover. We'll figure this out together."
You nodded, reluctantly pulling your hand away from Joel's. "Get some rest, Joel. We'll talk more later."
As you and Tommy left the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of Joel's gaze following you. Tommy put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Just... be careful. He's not the same Joel right now."
You nodded, your mind racing with the implications of Joel's memory loss and his sudden interest in you. The days ahead were sure to be challenging, but you couldn't deny the flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to know this new, more open version of Joel.
A version where he could get to know you and maybe, like, a new story waiting to be written with the both of you becoming friends, and not just acquaintances just having to tolerate each other for the community’s sake.
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The days following Joel's accident were a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected emotions dancing on your mind. Joel's flirtatious comments and affectionate demeanor were a stark contrast to the gruff, often combative man you had known before.
You had started to get used to feeling his nice demeanor towards you. You found yourself happier than before, smiling at the thought of him when you weren’t with him, and he had become your last thought on your bed just before going to sleep, but you were aware his condition perhaps wasn’t permanent and he was going to recover his memories of you, so you didn’t want to take advantage of that, nor did you want to fall for Joel, not when the fear of him waking up one day and hating you as usual was a threat.
His recovery was slow but steady, and you spent a lot of time by his side, helping him piece together the fragments of his memory. Every interaction felt like walking on fire, with Joel's behavior making your heart flutter and your mind racing at thousand miles per hour.
As you were changing the bandage on his head, Joel watched you with a soft smile. "You know, you have the gentlest touch. It's like you're an angel sent to take care of me."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, Joel. Making sure your pretty head heals properly."
Joel reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're more than just a nurse to me now. I don't know what it is, but I feel this connection with you. Like we're meant to be."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Joel, a few days ago I was nothing to you. You don’t remember me, so please just focus on getting better."
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with earnestness. "I get it, but I can't help how I feel. This connection—it's real to me, even if I don't remember our past."
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. "Joel, you're vulnerable right now. Your mind is trying to make sense of everything, and it's confusing. We need to take things slow."
Joel nodded reluctantly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pulled it back. "I trust you. Just know that I'm here, and I want to get to know you, past or no past."
You gave him a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, okay? Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."
Just then, Tommy walked in, carrying a tray of food. He cleared his throat, causing you to step back from Joel. "Brought you some lunch, big brother. How’re you feeling?"
Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of his brother. "Thanks, Tommy. I'm feeling better every day. And with this sunshine here, it's hard not to feel good."
Tommy gave you a knowing look, his concern evident. "Glad to hear it. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" he asked, looking towards you.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Of course, Tommy."
As you stepped outside the room, Tommy closed the door behind you, his expression serious. "How are you holding up?"
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It's... complicated. Joel is so different now. He's kind, attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in me. But he doesn't remember our past—how much we clashed."
Tommy nodded, his face lined with concern. "I can see how that would be confusing. But you have to be careful. This might just be his way of coping with the memory loss. He's latching onto the one constant he has right now—you."
You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I'm trying to keep my distance, but it's hard. He's... he's different, Tommy. And I can't deny that I'm starting to care for him."
Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I get it. But you need to remember that his memory might come back, and when it does, he could revert to the Joel we knew before. You have to protect yourself, too."
“Am I that unlovable?” you sighed.
Tommy's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not unlovable. Far from it. But the Joel we knew before... he had his walls up, and you know how stubborn he can be. If his memory comes back, he might go back to those old habits, those old defenses."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I understand. It's just... complicated."
Tommy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slow. Don't rush into anything, and remember to take care of yourself too. You suffered a lot before arriving here."
You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tommy. I needed that."
Tommy smiled back. "Anytime."
Returning to Joel's room, you found him sitting up, his eyes lighting up as you walked in. "Hey, everything okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just had a chat with Tommy."
Joel's expression became thoughtful. "You know, I'm really grateful for everything you're doing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like, dealing with me like this."
You sat down beside him, taking a deep breath. "It's not easy, Joel, but it's worth it. You're worth it."
Joel reached out, taking your hand in his. "You know, even though I don't remember everything, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. And I like what I see."
Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. "Joel, we need to take things slow. Focus on your recovery first."
Joel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I understand. But I can't help how I feel."
He has repeated the same phrase as before, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself diving into a deep ocean for him.
You squeezed his hand gently. "One step at a time, okay?"
Joel's eyes held a determined glint. "One step at a time."
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The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Jackson settlement as you walked briskly toward the main gate, your medical bag slung over your shoulder. You spotted Joel waiting for you, his arms crossed and a scowl already etched on his face.
"You're late," he growled as you approached.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm five minutes late, Joel. I had to take care of a kid with a fever."
Joel grunted, clearly unimpressed. "We have a schedule for a reason. Being late puts us at risk."
"Don't lecture me about risk," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "I know the dangers out there just as well as you do."
Joel's eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because sometimes it feels like you're too soft for this world. Always stopping to help every stray animal and sick kid."
"Excuse me for having a heart," you snapped. "Not everyone wants to live like a damn machine."
"Having a heart can get you killed," Joel retorted, his voice rising. "Out there, you need to be tough. Focused."
"And maybe if you lightened up a bit, people wouldn't be so scared of you," you shot back, your frustration boiling over.
Joel took a step closer, his jaw clenched. "I don't care if people are scared of me. I care about keeping them safe. And you, with your bleeding heart, make that harder."
You felt a surge of anger and hurt at his words. "You know what, Joel? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're so wrapped up in your own pain that you can't see anyone else's."
Joel's face darkened, a mix of anger and something else—something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "You don't know anything about my pain."
"And you don't know anything about mine," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "So maybe you should stop judging me and start seeing that we're all trying to survive in this hell together."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. Then Joel turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Let's just get this patrol over with."
You followed him out of the gate, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions. The silence between you was thick and uncomfortable, but neither spoke. The rift between you seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't see how things would ever change.
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You woke up with a pain on your neck. You had fallen asleep on a chair next to Joel’s bed where he was now lay resting, his breathing even and steady. His recovery was going well, but the emotional landscape was far more complex and you wanted to take the risk to discover it.  
You watched him for a moment, taking a mental picture of his face, the creases on his skin, how peaceful he looked like this. feeling the weight of uncertainty and guilt within you.
In that exact moment, Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his gaze settling on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, sunshine."
"Hey," you replied softly, mirroring his smile "How are you feeling?"
Joel stretched, wincing slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Better. Thanks to you."
You couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing a bit. "Just doing my job, Joel."
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "You're doing more than just your job. You've been taking care of me, looking out for me. I appreciate it."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's what anyone would do."
Joel shook his head slightly. "No, not everyone. You're special, and I... I think I’m starting to understand that."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. "Joel, you don't need to say that. You're still recovering, and things are confusing right now."
Joel's gaze remained steady, his expression earnest. "I mean it. There's something about you... something that's been here all along, and I was too stubborn to see it."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words, knowing how complicated the situation was. "Joel…”
“Did I care about you before?” he asked, gaze locked with yours.
You shook your head “No. Not really.”
You shook your head, feeling the sting of the truth. “No. Not really.”
Joel looked troubled, his brows knitting together. “I find that hard to believe. Because right now, I can’t imagine not caring about you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Things were different before, Joel. We didn’t get along. You were... closed off, and I guess I was just someone who got under your skin.”
Joel’s expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry. For whatever I did to make you feel that way. I wish I could remember, but all I know is that right now, I see you, and I feel... connected.”
A memory from the past surged forward, vivid and painful. It was a cold evening in Jackson, just after a particularly difficult supply run. You and Joel had been at odds all day, and the tension between you was palpable.
"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Joel snapped; his voice harsh as he slammed the door behind him.
You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. "Maybe because you treat me like I’m incompetent! I’m trying my best out there, Joel. We’re supposed to be a team."
Joel scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "A team? You’re a liability more than anything."
The words cut deep, but you stood your ground. "That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m just trying to help, like everyone else."
Joel’s face twisted with frustration. "Help? You call what you do helping? It’s a wonder anyone here can stand you."
The hurt was immediate and sharp, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "At least I’m trying to do something good. You just push everyone away."
Joel stepped closer, his expression dark. "Maybe there’s a reason for that. I find it hard to believe anyone could actually love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, disbelief and pain warring within you. Without another word, you turned and left, unable to bear the weight of his cruelty.
Back in the present, you blinked, trying to dispel the memory. Joel was watching you closely, concern etched into his features. "What’s wrong?"
You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. "Just... remembering something."
Joel reached out, gently taking your hand. "I wish I could remember too. So, I could make it right."
You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Maybe it’s better this way.
Joel squeezed your hand gently. "A fresh start sounds good. But I still want to know everything. About us, about what I did wrong. So, I can be better."
You nodded, taking the risk and pushing your luck.
You and Joel could become friends, right?
"You and I... we could become friends, right?" you asked.
Joel’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled. "Friends sounds like a good start. We can build from there."
You felt a surge of relief. "Friends it is, then."
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The days passed, each one bringing closeness between you and Joel. He had got better, slowly starting to get back to his tasks. The community noticed the change in him, how he was more open and approachable. You often found yourselves working together, whether it was on supply runs or him visiting the infirmary when you were there working.
One afternoon, you were busy organizing medical supplies when Joel walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Hey, need any help in here?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You looked up, smiling back. "Joel, what are you doing here? I thought you were out patrolling.”
Joel shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Finished early. Thought I’d come by and see if you needed a hand."
He, in fact lied. He switched places with another guy just to spend time with you again. He could feel your fear irradiating but he wanted to get to know you better. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he didn’t like someone like you and he wanted to change that.  
You chuckled, shaking your head. " Sure, you can help me with these supplies. There are some boxes that need to be sorted."
Joel rolled up his sleeves and joined you, his presence filling the small room with a comforting warmth. As you worked side by side, you found yourself stealing glances at him, marveling at the changes in him. He was more relaxed, more open, and undeniably more attentive.
"You know," Joel said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I like helping out here more than patrolling."
You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Oh? And why is that?"
Joel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend more time with you."
You blushed, focusing intently on the box in front of you. "You’re just saying that."
"No, I mean it," Joel replied, his tone sincere. "I like being around you. You make everything better."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "Well, I like having you around too."
The truth was that stealing glances at him now felt like interlocking fingers without even touching his skin, there wasn’t precisely a sexual tension or possessiveness over him, but a warm incandescent glow within every time he smiled at you. That was something you hadn’t felt in so long, and this time felt so right yet so wrong.
You both continued to work in comfortable silence, the rhythm of your tasks interrupted only by the occasional exchange of smiles or a shared joke. The closeness was undeniable, and you could feel the lines between friendship and something more starting to blur.
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One afternoon, you were out on a supply run together, scanning the area for anything useful. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. As you bent down to pick up some supplies, Joel suddenly appeared by your side, his proximity making your heart race.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
You looked up at him, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. "Sure, thanks."
As you both worked, the conversation flowed easily. Joel's presence was comforting, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't before.
"You know, I never really thanked you properly," Joel said, his tone serious.
"For what?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"For saving my life. For being there for me when I needed it the most," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. "You don’t need to thank me, Joel. I did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone," he insisted, his gaze intense. "You went above and beyond. You always do."
You blushed, the warmth spreading through you once again. "Well, I care about you. I can’t help it."
Joel's expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I care about you too. More than I ever thought possible."
The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken words and emotions. You could feel the pull between you, the undeniable connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
"Joel, this is complicated," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "We need to take things slow."
"I know," he replied, his hand lingering near your face. "But I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Joel's feelings for you had grown stronger. He found himself being smitten and completely in love by you, by your beauty, your strength and your soft heart. You were everything that was good with this world. Where everything and everyone was people with shadows dying out of melancholy, you were an angel wrapping your warm arms around him, making his world brighter. He had learnt how to savor the colors again.
As you continued your days together, Joel couldn't help but find ways to be close to you. He would always volunteer to accompany you on supply runs, ensuring you were safe and cared for. He would show up at the infirmary with small gifts – a flower he found on his patrol, a cup of your favorite tea, or a book he thought you might like. His gestures were always thoughtful and sincere, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
Joel couldn't take his eyes off you. You were kneeling in the ground, your hands deftly cleaning something you had found, your face serene and focused. Joel felt a swell of emotion, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "I used to think this world had nothing left to offer. But then I met you."
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "Joel..."
He knelt beside you, his hand covering yours. "You make everything better. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine going back to the way things were."
You felt a mixture of warmth and apprehension. His words were everything you wanted to hear, yet the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your heart. "Joel, this is all so new and complicated. We need to be careful."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes full of determination. "I know it's complicated, and I know we've got a lot to figure out. But I can't ignore what I feel. I want to be here for you, with you, through everything."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I want that too, Joel. But we need to take it one step at a time."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I will make you fall in love with me," he said, his voice full of determination and warmth.
You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"
Joel chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "When it comes to you, I am."
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You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. "Let's get back to Jackson," you said, standing up and brushing off your clothes. Joel stood with you, offering a hand to help you up.
As you made your way back to Jackson, the conversation flowed easily. Joel told you stories from before the outbreak, sharing pieces of his past he hadn’t opened up about before. You found yourself laughing at his anecdotes, feeling a growing sense of connection.
When you finally reached the gates of Jackson, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the community. People greeted you both warmly, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor. He was more relaxed and more present, and it was clear to everyone that you had a positive influence on him.
Tommy approached, a knowing smile on his face. "Good to see you both back safe and sound."
Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder. "It was a good run. Found some useful supplies."
Tommy nodded, then looked at you. "And how about you? Everything alright?"
You smiled, feeling the warmth of Joel’s gaze on you on your face. "Yeah, everything's good."
As the evening settled in, you and Joel made your way to the communal dining hall. The chatter of the community filled the air, and you found a spot to sit together. Joel’s hand lingered near yours, his touch reassuring and steady.
Tommy, Ellie, and Maria soon joined you at the table. Tommy was carrying a tray laden with food, Ellie trailing behind him with a mischievous grin, and Maria gave you a warm smile as she took a seat.
"Good to see you two back," Elli said, setting down the tray and passing out plates. “How was the run?" Ellie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"It went well," Joel replied, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he continued. "Found some useful supplies and had some good company."
Ellie smirked, elbowing Tommy. "I bet you did."
You blushed, focusing on your plate as you filled it with food. Maria, ever perceptive, glanced between you and Joel with a knowing smile. "It's good to see everyone together," she said, her tone light and warm.
As you all began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally. Tommy and Maria talked about the latest updates in the community, Ellie shared stories from her day, and Joel occasionally chimed in with his dry humor, making everyone laugh.
At one point, Ellie leaned over to you, her voice low enough so only you could hear. "Joel's been different lately. In a good way. You've been good for him."
You looked at her, surprised by her observation. "I hope so. It's been... a journey."
Ellie nodded, her expression sincere. "Just keep being you. That's all he needs."
The meal continued, filled with warmth and laughter. Joel's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending electricity down your body.
Just as you were starting to relax, a woman approached the table, her presence causing a ripple of unease. It was Lori, one of the women Joel used to date. Joel visibly tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate as Lori stopped beside him, her smile a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.
“Joel," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Joel looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Lori. Uh, hi."
Lori glanced around the table, her eyes settling on you for a moment before she looked back at Joel. "I was just passing by and saw you all together. Mind if I join?"
Before anyone could respond, Tommy jumped in. "Sure, why not? There's always room for one more."
Lori pulled up a chair and sat down, her presence adding a layer of tension to the dynamics. Joel seemed uncomfortable; his usual confidence was replaced by nervous energy.
"So, Joel," Lori began, her tone light but probing. "How have you been? It's been a while."
Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly before answering. "Yeah, it has. I've been... good. Just busy with everything here."
Lori nodded, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "I can see that. Looks like you've made some new friends." She said, bitterly, “The last time I knew from you was when you left my house after our night, and then you hit your head and never spoke to me again.”
The table fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Joel looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his plate. You could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes as he tried to process Lori's words.
"I'm sorry, Lori," Joel finally said, his voice low. "I don't remember much from before the accident. It's been... complicated."
Lori's expression softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I get that. But it still stings, you know? You just disappeared."
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori but also a fierce protectiveness over Joel. "It's been hard for him,” you said gently, trying to ease the tension. "Joel's been working hard to piece things together. He's different now, and we're all just trying to move forward."
Lori glanced at you, her expression unreadable. "I can see that, but it seems like you had taken advantage of the situation; he couldn’t stand your ass before his accident, and suddenly you have him like a little puppy following you everywhere.”
Your heart drops to your stomach, feeling warm spreading to your cheeks.
Joel's jaw tightened, and he quickly interjected, his voice firm. "That's enough, Lori. You don't know what you're talking about."
Lori raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just find it convenient, that's all."
Tommy leaned forward, his tone calm but authoritative. "Lori, we're all trying to move forward here. It's not fair to make accusations."
Ellie, always quick to defend those she cared about, added, "You weren't here to see what she did for Joel. She saved his life and has been helping him every step of the way."
Lori's gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just needed to understand."
Maria nodded, her voice gentle. "We all get that, Lori. It's been a tough situation for everyone."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. "You took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll take some fresh air,” you said, standing up, not even looking down at Joel, who seemed sad at your whole dementor.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. I—" you paused, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. "I’ll take some fresh air," you said, standing up abruptly. Avoiding eye contact with Joel, who looked sad and concerned, you made your way outside.
The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you walked a little way from the dining hall, finding a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. You leaned against a tree, closing your eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.
After a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes to see Ellie standing there, her expression filled with concern. "Hey, you okay?"
You nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I just needed a moment. That was a bit embarrassing."
Ellie walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. "Lori was out of line. You've been amazing with Joel. Anyone with eyes can see that."
“So, don’t you think I’ve been taking advantage of him?” You asked, really concerned.
“What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you.” She replied, laughing.
Ellie laughed, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you."
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know, but sometimes it feels like I’m walking on eggshells. It feels like he is going to wake up from his trance and he will hate me again."
Ellie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I've seen the way he looks at you. He’s happier, lighter. You’ve brought out a side of him I didn’t think existed. And trust me, if he didn’t want this, he’d make it clear."
You took a deep breath.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked.
“Me, falling in love with him,” you answer.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked, her tone light but sincere.
You sighed, the weight of your fears pressing down. “Me, falling in love with him,” you answered quietly.
Ellie gave you a sympathetic look. "And why is that so bad?"
"Because," you began, struggling to put your feelings into words, "what if his memories come back and he realizes he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if I fall in love with him and he changes back to the old Joel, the one who couldn’t stand me?"
Ellie nodded, understanding. "That's a risk, sure. But you can't let fear keep you from living. You've been through so much together, and it's clear he cares about you deeply now. Maybe that won't change."
You bit your lip, the turmoil inside you reflected in your eyes. "I just don't want to get hurt, Ellie. And I don’t want to hurt him either."
Ellie squeezed your shoulder. "I get it. But if you keep holding back, you'll never know what could be. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith."
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Maybe you're right."
Ellie grinned. "Of course I'm right. Now, let's get back in there. Joel's probably worrying himself sick."
You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, let's go."
As you walked back into the dining hall, you found Joel still sitting at the table, his eyes lighting up when he saw your return. He stood up as you approached, his concern evident.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."
Joel looked relieved, and he gently took your hand. "I'm glad you're back."
The evening continued with easy conversation, and as you all eventually made your way out of the dining hall, Joel walked beside you, his presence a comforting constant.
"Thanks for dinner," he said softly as you approached your door.
"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. "It was nice, being with everyone."
Joel nodded, his eyes lingering on you. "It was. And I meant what I said today. I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at his words. "You're really set on that, aren't you?"
Joel nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of a smile that made you go crazy. "I am. Because I know what I feel now, and I’m not going to let it slip away."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Joel, this is new for both of us. We need to take it one step at a time."
He took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. “Am I that unlovable?”
You blinked, taken aback by his question. "What? No, Joel, you're not unlovable at all. It's just... complicated."
Joel's eyes softened, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "I get that. But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I appreciate that, Joel. And I do care about you. A lot. It's just..."
"Scary?" he finished for you, his voice gentle.
You nodded.
Joel's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It is scary. But sometimes, the best things come from taking a leap of faith."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "It’s not just about taking a leap. It’s about making sure we’re ready for whatever comes next."
Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. And I'm ready to take it slow to give you the space you need. Just know that I’m here for you, and I’m not giving up on us."
You felt a mix of relief and trepidation, but Joel's unwavering support gave you strength. "Thank you, Joel. That means a lot to me."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "We’ll figure it out, one step at a time."
You nodded, closing your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself to savor the closeness and the promise of what might come. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Joel’s smile—a smile that made you believe in the possibility of a new beginning.
"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice tender, holding back the desire to cupp your face and kiss you.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, your heart fluttering, feeling the same as him.
Now standing, this close, face to face, skins touching. One of you would give in before, and once that happened, there was no going to be a way to stop two hearts beating this fast.
Joel's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze revealing the depth of his emotions. You could see the conflict within him, the longing that mirrored your own. His hand lingered near your face, his fingers almost brushing against your skin, his breath warm and steady.
The moment felt suspended in time, the air between you charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. You both stood there, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from each other, your hearts racing in sync.
Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you, but I also don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel this.”
You swallowed, your own voice trembling slightly. “I feel it too, Joel. But we need to be careful.”
Joel nodded, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. “I know. And I want to respect that. I just...” He hesitated, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to miss this chance with you. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Joel’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, the desire and uncertainty evident in his expression. His hand gently cupped your face. His touch was tender, as if he were afraid to break the spell that bound you both.
You felt your heart race, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Joel’s fingers brushed softly against your cheek, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His breath grew shallower, and his eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the closeness.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of warmth and affection that sent a shiver down your spine. The moment felt both exhilarating and comforting, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that had been building between you.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving softly against his. The kiss deepened gradually, a sweet exploration of new and uncharted territory. His hands moved to frame your face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were cherishing every second of this newfound closeness.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. The kiss had been more than just a physical connection; it was a promise of something more, something that neither of you fully understood yet but were both eager to explore.
Joel’s smile was tender and full of warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that since I woke up that day at the infirmary,” he admitted softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his confession. His words made your heart flutter even more, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm glad you did," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way."
Joel's smile widened, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I didn’t want to rush things or push you. But now... now that we’ve shared this, I hope we can figure things out together."
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and warmth. "I think we can. I want to see where this leads."
He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "No pressure, just... being here with you."
You smiled, feeling a sense of calm and excitement. "I would like that.”
Joel nodded; his expression full of affection. "Good. Now, how about we get some rest? Tomorrow's a new day, and I want to spend it with you."
You felt a burst of warmth at his words and, inspired by the new closeness between you, you hesitated for just a moment before speaking up. “How about we go inside for a bit? I’ve got some tea. It might be nice to relax and talk more.”
Joel’s eyes lit up at the invitation, and he nodded with a smile. “That sounds perfect.”
You led the way to your house, the familiar surroundings now feeling different with Joel by your side. Once inside, you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing the tea. Joel watched you with an easy smile, clearly content.
As you waited for the water to boil, you and Joel chatted about lighter topics—how his recovery was going, plans for the community, and small anecdotes from your days. The conversation flowed easily, and the atmosphere between you was comfortable and warm.
When the tea was ready, you poured two cups and handed one to Joel. He took it with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. You both settled into a cozy corner of your living room, the soft light of a lamp casting a gentle glow around the room.
Joel sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally meeting yours. “This is nice,” he said softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Joel looked around your living room, the peaceful ambiance a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. He took another sip of his tea, then turned his gaze back to you. “You know, before all this, I had a pretty normal life. A family, a daughter named Sarah. She was... everything to me.”
His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and you could see the pain in his eyes. You nodded, sensing the weight of his memories. “I’m sorry, Joel. I can’t even imagine.”
Joel’s expression was somber but grateful. “Thanks. She was everything. When the outbreak happened, she... she didn’t make it. It’s been hard, you know? Trying to keep going and make sense of it all.”
You felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how devastating such a loss could be. “I understand. I lost my fiancé in a storm during the outbreak. We were caught outside, and he was... gone before I could do anything.”
Joel’s eyes softened with empathy. “That’s so tough. I’m really sorry you went through that.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own memories. “It was the storm that made me afraid of them. Every time the weather changes, it reminds me of that day. I try not to let it control me, but sometimes, it’s hard.”
Joel reached out, placing his hand gently on yours. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that. It’s brave of you to face it every day.”
You looked at his hand on yours, feeling a comforting warmth from his touch. “It’s been a struggle, but having people like you around makes it a little easier.”
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “We all have our battles. But we’ve found ways to keep moving forward. And maybe together, we can make those battles a little less daunting.”
+++++
The days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Joel grew stronger. The bond you shared was evident in the way you looked at each other and the ease with which you interacted. People in Jackson had noticed the change in both of you, and there was a sense of warmth and contentment surrounding your partnership.
One afternoon, as you were working in the infirmary, organizing supplies and checking on patients, Joel walked in. He had that familiar, easy smile on his face, and his presence was a comforting one amidst the hectic pace of the medical work.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “Thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
You looked up, your face lighting up at the sight of him. “Hey, Joel. Just busy as usual. How’s everything on the patrol?”
Joel shrugged, walking over to where you were working. “Not too bad. But I figured I’d come by and keep you company. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah, I’ve been needed here more often lately. But it’s good to see you.”
Joel moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “I’ve missed you. It’s different when you’re not around.”
You felt a surge of affection at his words. “I’ve missed you too. But this is important. People need help, and I want to make sure I’m here for them.”
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get it. Just remember to take care of yourself too. I’d hate to see you running on empty.”
You chuckled, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try. But having you here now brought a smile to my face.”
He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “Well, I’m glad to be here. Can I help with anything?”
You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Actually, if you could help me restock some of these supplies, that would be great.”
Joel moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he began helping with the supplies. The shared task created a comfortable silence between you, with only the soft sounds of organizing supplies filling the space.
As you worked side by side, Joel’s gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made your heart race. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The kiss was a sweet proof the connection you shared, and you responded with equal tenderness, savoring the closeness.
Just as the kiss deepened, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Dr. Ramirez walked in. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and Joel but quickly masked her surprise with a professional smile.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone warm but slightly teasing. “I came to check on things and see if you needed any help.”
You and Joel pulled away; a bit flustered but smiling nonetheless. “We were just finishing up,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Everything’s in order.”
Dr. Ramirez nodded, her gaze flicking between you and Joel with a knowing look. “Alright, if you need anything, just let me know.”
As she moved to her office, you glanced at Joel, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
Joel chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Yeah, but I guess it’s a good thing everyone know you’re my girl.”
You looked up at Joel, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I suppose it is. It’s nice to be able to be open about us."
Joel’s expression softened; his gaze warm. “It is. And I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It makes everything feel more real, more... solid.”
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you want to have dinner at my place?” he asked.
You looked up at Joel, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of spending more time together. “Dinner at your place sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
Joel’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Great. I’ll make sure to have something good ready for us.”
You both made your way to Joel’s place, the evening air cool and crisp. The walk was filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, a comforting routine that had become a cherished part of your days.
When you arrived at Joel’s house, he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. The interior was cozy, with soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. He led you to the kitchen, where a simple but inviting dinner was laid out on the table.
Joel’s cooking was surprisingly good, and as you enjoyed the meal together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothing—your favorite memories, plans for the future, and the little things that made you both laugh.
After dinner, you moved to the living room, where Joel had set up a comfortable spot with blankets and pillows. You both settled in, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
Joel looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Me too. Tonight has been perfect.”
He wrapped his arm around you, his touch warm and reassuring. “Here’s to many more nights like this.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”
As the evening wore on, you both talked about your past experiences and shared stories from before the outbreak. Joel spoke about his life before everything changed—his family, the dreams he had, and the struggles he faced. You shared your own experiences, including the loss of your fiancé and the challenges of adapting to this new world alone.
Joel listened intently, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to reassure you. “It’s amazing how much we’ve both been through,” he said softly. “And yet, here we are.”
You nodded, feeling a deep connection. “Yeah. It feels like we’re building something meaningful despite everything.”
After some time, you both decided it was time to call it a night. You stood up, stretching slightly as you gathered your things. Joel walked with you to the door, his presence a comforting constant.
As you reached the door, Joel hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you with a mix of hesitation and hope in his eyes. “I was wondering… would you like to spend the night here? It’s been nice having you around, and I’d love to have you stay.”
You looked at him, surprised but touched by the invitation. The warmth in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice made it hard to resist.
“I’d like that,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.
Joel’s expression brightened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug. “Great. Let’s get you settled in.”
Joel led you to his bedroom, a space that felt both lived-in and welcoming. The room was simple but comfortable, with a bed covered in worn but clean linens and a few personal touches that spoke to Joel’s character—photos of his family, a well-loved guitar leaning against the wall, and a small stack of books on the bedside table.
He gestured to the bed with a slightly sheepish grin. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it’s home.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance. “It’s perfect.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad you think so.”
You both prepared for bed in comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine helping to ease any lingering tension. Joel showed you where you could find anything you might need—extra blankets, a lamp for reading, and a small cabinet for any personal items you might want to keep nearby.
As you both settled into the bed, Joel turned off the lights, leaving only a soft glow from a nightlight on the dresser. He slipped under the covers, and you followed suit, the warmth and comfort of the bed providing a welcome respite from the day’s events.
Joel turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice tender.
You smiled, feeling a sense of peace as you settled closer to him. “Me too. It feels right.”
He reached out and gently took your hand, interlocking your fingers. The simple gesture was filled with meaning, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger.
“Goodnight,” Joel whispered, his voice carrying a note of affection.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your heart fluttering with contentment.
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A few days later, you and Ellie were seated at a table in the bustling dining hall, enjoying a well-deserved lunch. The room was filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of utensils, creating a comforting background noise.
Ellie, always full of energy, was animatedly talking about a new comic she’d found. “You won’t believe this,” she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “but this one hero has the power to control weather. I’m telling you, if I had that power, I’d totally make it sunny all the time.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like you’ve been reading too many comics. But I suppose a bit of sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”
Ellie grinned, grabbing a bite of her sandwich. “True, true. But, seriously, how are things going with Joel? You two seem... really happy.”
You smiled, feeling a warm flush at her question. “We are. It’s been nice, spending time together. He’s been really supportive, and I think we’re figuring things out.”
Ellie’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased with your answer. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s been a lot happier since you two started spending more time together. It’s like he’s found a new spark.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “It’s been good for both of us. We’re still taking things one step at a time, but it feels right.”
Ellie’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know it’s been rough with everything that’s happened, but it’s nice to see people finding happiness again. Especially you and Joel.”
You appreciated Ellie’s support and her ability to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Ellie. That means a lot.”
Ellie glanced around the dining hall, then back at you with a mischievous grin. “So, are you guys planning any big adventures together? Or just sticking to the small stuff for now?”
You laughed softly. “We’re sticking to the small stuff for now. Just enjoying the moments, we have together.” You paused, “I’m still a little bit scared of him waking up hating me again.”
Ellie’s eyes softened with understanding. “I get that. It’s natural to be scared after everything you’ve both been through. But you’re doing great, and Joel is different now. He’s not going to just wake up one day and hate you.”
You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering concern in your expression. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes, it’s hard to shake that fear, especially after everything that’s happened.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “I think you both just need to keep talking and being honest with each other. The more you communicate, the more you’ll build that trust. And remember, it’s okay to have those fears. It just means you care.”
You managed a small smile. “Thanks, Ellie. It’s reassuring to hear that.”
Ellie grinned and took a bite of her lunch. “Anytime. And if you ever need someone to talk to or just need a distraction, you know I’m here. We can have a comic marathon or something.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of Ellie’s support. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
As you and Ellie finished your lunch, you stood up to clear your plates, the conversation easing into a comfortable silence. Just as you were about to head to the serving area, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a warm embrace. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on your cheek, making you feel a surge of happiness and surprise.
You turned your head slightly, finding Joel’s smiling face close to yours. “Hey there,” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to steal a moment with you.”
Ellie watched with a grin, clearly pleased with the sight. “Looks like someone’s got a fan club.”
You blushed slightly, leaning into Joel’s embrace. “Hi, Joel. I was just catching up with Ellie.”
Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your side. “I figured I’d come and see how you were doing. Plus, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a walk later.”
You smiled, feeling content in his arms. “A walk sounds nice. I’d love that.”
Joel nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Great. Let’s finish up here and head out.”
You and Joel exchanged a tender glance before you both started to clear your plates. Ellie gave you both a playful nudge. “I’ll leave you two to your walk. Enjoy, and remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
+++++++++++++
“So?” you asked, as Joel was smiling in complete silence.
“So what?” he asked without erasing that smile from his face.
“Aren’t you going to talk?”
Joel chuckled, his smile widening. “I guess I’m just enjoying the moment. It’s not every day I get to be this content.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. “Oh really? And why’s that?”
He looked at you, his gaze tender. “Because being with you like this, just walking and talking, it’s exactly what I’ve wanted. It’s simple and perfect.”
You smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. So, what’s on your mind?”
Joel glanced around, taking in the scenery before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking about how nice would be if you go to my place tonight. Ellie’s gonna spend the night with Dina and I want to spend the night with you.”
“That sounds wonderful,” you said with a smile. “I’d love to spend the night with you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and he took your hand, gently squeezing it. “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned and kiss you on the lips, “No I gotta go helping Tommy, see you later, sunshine”
You pouted, grabbing his hand before he could go anywhere “Wait? That was all?”
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought I’d surprise you with the invitation, and I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy spending time with you.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “Well, I didn’t realize the evening was just an invitation and a kiss goodbye.”
Joel grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright. If you want more, I guess I’ll have to come up with something better.” He pulled you into another kiss, this one longer and more lingering.
You smiled against his lips as you pulled away. “That’s more like it. But seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face gently. “I’m looking forward to it too. Just had to help Tommy out with something. I promise, I’ll make up for it.”
You nodded, still holding onto his hand. “I’ll hold you to that. See you later, Joel.”
He gave you one last smile before heading out, leaving you with a warm feeling and the anticipation of the evening ahead.
+++++++++++++
When you arrived at Joel's place, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the surroundings. Joel greeted you at the door with a welcoming smile and a quick, affectionate kiss.
"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, taking your coat and hanging it up. "I’ve got a few things planned, but we can start with something simple if you’d like."
You stepped inside, feeling the comforting familiarity of Joel’s home. “I’m sure whatever you’ve got planned will be perfect,” you replied, smiling at him.
Joel led you into the living room, where he’d set up a cozy area with blankets and cushions. The room was softly lit by lamps, and the atmosphere was inviting and warm. A few candles were flickering on the coffee table, casting a gentle glow.
“I figured we could start with some dinner and then maybe just talk or something else” Joel suggested, his eyes reflecting the soft light.
You nodded, feeling content with the simple but thoughtful setup. “That sounds great.”
Joel moved to the kitchen and returned shortly with a plate of homemade food—something comforting and hearty. He set it down on the table, then joined you on the couch.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily, just like it had during your earlier moments together. You talked about your days, your plans, and even some light-hearted topics. Joel’s presence was reassuring, and you felt completely at ease.
After dinner, Joel suggested putting on some music. He rummaged through his collection, finally settling on a classic that he thought you’d enjoy. You both snuggled up under the blankets, the music playing softly in the background.
Joel occasionally glanced at you, his hand resting casually on your knee. The song played, but most of your attention was focused on the comfort of being next to him, the warmth of his touch, and the quiet contentment that filled the room.
Joel turned to you, his gaze tender. “You know, I’m really glad we’re doing this. Just being here with you, it feels right.”
You smiled, leaning into him. “I feel the same way.”
Joel’s hand moved to gently brush your hair back from your face. “What’s your biggest fear?” he asked out of the blue?
You sighed, leaving his gaze for a moment “You waking up and forgetting you love me”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly at your answer, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. “Why would you think that? I don’t see any reason why that would happen.”
You took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as you shared your fear. “It’s just….you knew I told you we didn’t get along before, in fact you hated me, Joel.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he listened to your concern. He took a moment before responding, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know things weren’t easy between us before. And yeah, I didn’t handle things the best way back then. But that’s in the past. What matters now is how we are right now.”
He reached out and gently took your hand in his. “The truth is, I’ve changed. And I see you differently now. I see you for who you are, and I realize how much you mean to me. Whatever those old feelings were? They’re gone. What we have now is real, and I’m committed to it.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. “But what if one day you wake up and those old feelings come back? What if something changes?”
Joel shook his head, his gaze intense and full of conviction. “I don’t believe that’ll happen. I’ve come to understand how much you mean to me, and how deeply I care about you.”
He squeezed your hand gently, his expression earnest. “I’m not going to let those fears control us. We’re building something strong, and I want to keep building it with you. I’m here, and I’m committed to making sure we have a future together.”
You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words. “Thank you, Joel. That really means a lot to me.”
Joel smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m glad. And if you ever need reassurance, just ask. I’m always here to remind you of how much you mean to me.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of comfort and closeness. The fears that had been troubling you began to fade as you focused on the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice.
Joel’s gaze lingered on yours, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and resolve. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a careful exploration of newfound trust and affection.
As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, conveying all the emotions and reassurances that words alone couldn’t fully capture. Joel’s hand cupped your face, his touch warm and reassuring as he pressed closer.
You responded to the kiss, your own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss felt like a promise, a shared understanding of where you both stood and where you hoped to go.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads touching as you gazed into each other’s eyes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment of closeness.
Joel’s smile was soft, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I needed to do that. To show you just how much you mean to me.”
You smiled back, your heart full. “I needed that too.”
Joel gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
After that, everything happened in a flash. Neither of you realized when you removed your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch; you wanted to discover how his fingers could leave a mark on you, tracing invisible lines across your body.
He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldn’t stop.
With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.
He was hovering over you, giving you a passionate kiss. He was between your legs, exactly where you wanted him.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at you. To appreciate the features of your face and the nature of your body to admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.
“You look beautiful”. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.
You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs with his gently touch, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.
And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to everything you had experiencing before. At this moment, you weren’t driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You weren’t in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.
This time he was making love because he had drowned himself on your religion.
Both of you gasped aloud the moment he began to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours, interlocking them as he kissed you softly, muttering, "You're so beautiful like this". He was mesmerized by the way you were nervously giggling and cocking your head back in delight. He bit your neck, prompting your hands to move up to his neck, and his hands ran down your entire body without a layer of clothing on you, focusing on every thrust and diving deep to ensure he was making you happy.
You opened your eyes and stared back at him, entirely focused on you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as his hands massaged your breasts while he continued to devour your lips. Your back arched, followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so fantastic, you couldn't help but think you were in the celestial realm You could tell you were getting closer as you squeezed him and kept your gaze fixed on each other. He pushed harder, one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping your knee to guarantee you fell apart.
The noises you made drove him insane, as he felt himself reaching the edge of the cliff. He wanted to stare at you under him as you came and with a loud gasp, he did it at the same time falling over your exposed chest, your heartbeats mingling.
You moaned softly beneath him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, flashing him a cute smile he hadn't tired of, as you kissed him on the lips.
"I love you so much," he replied, gazing at you with admiration. “I’m so in love with you.”
I love you.
I’m so in love with you.
Those three words were echoing in the shadows of your mind. Your expression softened and you felt your blood rushing. You were sure they had had an impact on you.
“And I love you so much” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your emotion.
Joel’s expression softened even further, and he brushed a tender kiss against your lips once more. The connection between you was undeniable, a blend of passion and deep affection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you. The world outside seemed distant and unimportant in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and you allowed yourself to fully embrace the love and happiness you had found with Joel.
Joel gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
You nodded, your eyes closing as you savored the moment. “Yeah, we have. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Neither would I. Here’s to more moments like this, and to whatever the future holds for us.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment and anticipation for what was to come. “To us,” you agreed, your heart full of love and hope.
+++++++++++
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred, waking up with a smile on your face. The previous night’s intimacy and love still lingered, and you turned to look at Joel. He was sleeping peacefully beside you, a contented expression on his face.
As you watched him, you felt a surge of happiness and affection. You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart full of love for him.
But as Joel’s eyes fluttered open and he met your gaze, his expression shifted dramatically. His sparkly brown eyes filled with love, widened in horror, and a look of confusion and fear crossed his face. He pushed himself up, scrambling back slightly.
“What...What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and fear.
You were taken aback, your smile faltering as you tried to make sense of his reaction. “Joel, what’s wrong?”
No. It couldn’t be that, right?
Joel’s eyes were filled with a pained realization. “Oh my god, you came to my house trying to seduce me into sleeping with you?”
You felt a sharp pang of pain at his words, and your heart dropped. The warmth you had felt earlier was replaced by a cold, unsettling feeling.
“No, Joel, that’s not what happened,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “We’re in love”
He chuckled. “In love? Me in love with you? I could never” he said.
Your chest tightened, and the hurt in Joel’s words felt like a physical blow. You struggled to keep your composure, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Joel, you can’t mean that,” you said, your voice shaking. “Last night, you said you loved me. We shared something real.”
Joel’s expression was a mix of confusion and pain. “I don’t remember saying that. Last night I was with Lori”
That’s it. You were back at were you used to be.
The weight of Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of betrayal and heartache, as the realization sank in. The warmth and affection from the night before felt like a cruel illusion.
“So, what? You’re saying last night meant nothing?” you asked. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. “You really don’t remember? You don’t remember how we talked, how you told me you loved me?”
“I don’t love you.” He said, sternly.
“But I’m your sunshine” you sobbed.
Joel’s laughter pierced through you like a blade, and you could barely stand the weight of the realization. Each word he spoke seemed to tear away at the fabric of your heart, unraveling the dream you’d clung to so desperately.
The room felt colder, the air heavier, as you fought to control your sobs. Every touch, every shared moment that had once seemed so real was now reduced to nothing more than painful echoes of a memory that never truly existed.
He didn’t remember the stealing glances, the kisses, the touches and the promises than now seemed to fade with the cruel destiny meeting the ending meant to be.
You had taken a risk at falling in love with the version of a Joel who loved you back, and he didn’t exist anymore. He had faded just when he had told you he loved you.
He didn’t remember falling in love with you, he didn’t remember all the time you spent together, and he didn’t remember loving you, but you didn’t think this would hurt this much.
“Joel” you said, pleading him to remember.
“Out.” He said, gritting his teeth.  
You stood there, the pain in your chest almost unbearable, as Joel's harsh words echoed around you. The warmth and affection you had shared just hours before now seemed like a cruel illusion, shattered by his denial.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice trembling. "Just think about everything we shared. It was real."
Joel’s eyes were hard, and he crossed his arms defensively. “I don't remember any of it. And I can't fake feelings I don't have.”
You felt a deep, profound sadness, the weight of his words making it almost impossible to breathe. The life you had envisioned, the love you had felt, seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers.
“Please, just—” you tried to reason with him, but the look in his eyes made it clear that any further pleading was futile.
Joel’s expression remained firm, a mix of regret and frustration. “Everything I know is that you took advantage of me.”
The sting of Joel's words cut deep, each one echoing the finality of a dream you had cherished. The accusation of taking advantage of him felt like a betrayal, intensifying the emotional agony you were already struggling with.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the fragments of your composure. "Joel, I never did that. We have something—"
Joel interrupted; his voice cold. "I don’t want to hear it. You need to leave. Now."
The finality in his tone left no room for argument. With a heart heavy with sorrow, you nodded, unable to find the words that might change his mind.
You were only on one of his shirts, trying to find your clothes.
You stumbled through the room, your movements disjointed as you searched for your clothes. The pain and confusion made every action feel like an immense effort. Joel’s gaze remained fixed on you, his face a mask of distant resolve.
You found your jeans, but it was crumpled and stained, and you struggled to put it on with trembling hands. The fabric felt rough against your skin, a stark contrast to the comfort you had felt just hours before. You glanced around for your other belongings, the room now feeling foreign and unwelcoming.
“I... I can’t find my blouse,” you said again, your voice a whisper filled with desperation and trembling.
Joel’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. “Don’t worry about it. Just wear my shirt. I won’t wear it again.” His voice was cold and icy, not more softness as when they used to whisper things on your ear.
The coldness in his words made it clear that there was no room for negotiation or further conversation. You nodded numbly, the shirt you were already wearing now feeling like a heavy shroud setting your skin on fire.
As you finished dressing, you glanced around the room one last time, trying to memorize the space you were leaving behind. The sight of the room, so filled with the promise you fooled yourself onto believing.
There was an intensified the ache in your chest.
Joel stood by the door, his posture rigid as if he were bracing himself for something. His eyes didn’t meet yours, focusing instead on some distant point. The silence between you was heavy with the weight of the broken bond that never existed.
As you pulled on your shoes, your heart cracked completely sank in deeper. You looked up, meeting Joel’s eyes one last time.
“Joel, I’m sorry for everything,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant to cause any harm. I just wanted—”
Joel cut you off with a slight nod, his face still set in a hard expression. “Just go. Please.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost making it impossible to speak. The intensity of Joel's gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and indifference, made it clear that any further words would be futile.
With one last, lingering look at him and the room that just yesterday had witnessed three empty words that now didn’t meant anything, you turned and made your way down the hall. Each step felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the burden of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your heart.
As you reached the front door, the cool morning air hit you, providing a stark contrast to the warmth you had felt just hours before. The quiet outside was a jarring reminder of the world that continued, indifferent to the personal turmoil you were experiencing.
With every step, you tried to reconcile the reality you faced with the memories of what you had thought was true, a momentary field of dreams. The pain was sharp and immediate. How would you continue life after losing another love?
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coffeeshades · 1 day
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credits to the gif maker!
LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX
summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.
pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!
a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3
masterlist!
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January 26, 2023
Los Angeles, California
The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.
You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.
Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.
It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.
On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.
Okay, not complete silence.
There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”
Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.
Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”
Why didn’t he tell me?
That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.
You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.
Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.
The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.
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February 4, 2023
New York, NY
The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.
“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?
The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.
His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.
And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.
When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.
“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.
Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.
You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.
Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.
You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.
After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.
“How…what are you…?”
“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.
“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.
“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”
He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"
“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”
As if you needed a reason other than him.
“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.
He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”
You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”
And then he turned and disappeared backstage.
•••
Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.
Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.
Without thinking, you followed him.
He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.
“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”
He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.
Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.
His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.
He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”
“Hi."
“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.
You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”
He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”
The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.
How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"
For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.
For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.
“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”
Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.
In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”
The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.
“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.
“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”
He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”
You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.
“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”
You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”
You reached up, covering his hand with yours.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”
You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”
"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."
There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.
When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.
Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”
His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.
“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”
His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“We wasted so much time.”
You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.
You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.
“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.
You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.
“I know."
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a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.
an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!
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huntingingoodwill · 3 months
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aren’t you gonna tuck me in? (j.m.)
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masterlist
pairing: brat!reader x joel miller
prompt: goodnight kiss
a/n: a lil sumn for @janaispunk’s 1.5k kisses challenge!!! with a bit of a grumpy x sunshine dynamic smirk smirk... congrats babes 💕
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“You crazy old motherfucker!” Your screams were tinged with laughter as Joel slung you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the Tipsy Bison. 
“Who’re you calling a crazy old motherfucker?” Joel grumbled, locking his arm tight around your thigh and kicking open the door as he pointedly ignored your friends’ whoops and whistles. 
You blew them a kiss before they disappeared behind the swinging door, at which point you gestured to the desolate road Joel had carried you out onto.
“Don’t see any other crazy old motherfuckers around.” 
The slice of light that fell upon the road from the open door reduced into nothingness as it swung shut, leaving you and Joel awash in blue moonlight. 
“If I’m crazy, it’s only ‘cause you drove me to the brink-” He paused in exasperation, landing a smack to your thigh that prompted a delicious, ticklish pain to shoot up your leg, and peals of laughter to come falling out your mouth,“will you stop wiggling up there?” 
“Sure thing.” The saccharine words dripped off your tongue before you halted your movements, muscles slackening as you draped your dead weight over his shoulder. 
“Jesus,” He huffed, suddenly exhausted as he had to literally shoulder the burden of your lax body. “Y’know what, just get down.” He said, quickly lowering you to the ground. 
“Joel Miller, you are quite the party pooper.” You chuckled, stumbling to your feet. 
He had stormed into the Tipsy Bison, locking eyes with yours as he pushed past a crush of people, causing your lips to twist into a smirk and your heartbeat to quicken in time with the beat of the warbling song blasting from the jukebox. He had barely given you time to shoot off a sly remark before he tossed you over your shoulder and whisked you away, an act much more interesting to you than the drunken conversation you were enjoying with your friends. 
“I did not poop any parties.” He said, watching you stifle a laugh as you walked beside him. “Maybe you don’t recall, but we’re on patrol together tomorrow, and I am not gonna play nurse to you when you’re hungover on a horse.” 
When Tommy had first put the both of you on patrol together, he had thought his brother was pulling some sick joke. He probably was. You had taken a particular interest in Joel whenever you saw him around Jackson, never failing to deliberately bump into him and engage in some teasing that would render Tommy helpless with laughter as Joel stood on, unamused. 
As much as Joel hated to admit it, and as much as he felt he really was being driven crazy on his patrols with you, he had almost come around to it.
The gleam of your smile in those dark forests as you told him corny jokes around a crackling fire. Like sunlight peeking out from behind a dark cloud.
He pushed the thought away. Maybe you really were driving him to the brink. 
“Please,” you rolled your eyes, gait leisurely besides his focused march down the road, “I’ve been hungover on that horse before and you never had to baby me. I just think you hate fun.” 
“I do not ‘hate fun’.” He said, his monotonous drawl sounding pretty fun-hating, “...But maybe you were having too much fun. ‘Specially with that boy of yours.” 
He regretted letting the words slip as soon as he said them, but he couldn’t deny the flare of heat that simmered under his skin when he entered the bar to see you laughing your head off with one of the guys that always seemed to trail after you around Jackson. 
“Oh. My. God.” You said, a thin sheen of dust rising around your boots as you screeched to a halt. 
“What?” Joel said, heart pounding as he whipped his head around.
“You’re jealous!” 
“I am not-“ Joel spluttered, heat blooming across his collar. 
“I’m walking home with a green-eyed monster!” You grabbed him by the jaw, and Joel prayed you couldn’t feel the heat from his cheeks searing the pads of your fingers. You turned his head, prompting him to look in your eyes. He had to fight off the urge to melt against your touch under the intensity of your stare, his jaw clenching beneath your fingers.
“Nope. Not green. Still shit brown.” You said, killing the moment with a grin. 
Joel shook you off, quickening his pace rather unsteadily as you continued to walk beside him. 
“You’re obsessed with me. First, you’re carrying me out of the Tipsy Bison, and next, you’ll be carrying me over the threshold after our wedding." You laughed.
That made even more heat blossom in his cheeks, and he tried to push that image out of his mind as he cleared his throat, biting his tongue as he let you carry on.
“Don’t be too jealous, Joel.” You purred, slipping your arm through his, nuzzling up to him in a way that made blood roar in his ears, “That guy’s not really my type. I like older guys.” You placed extra emphasis on the last phrase, making Joel’s head swim. 
After making him squirm under your gaze for a couple seconds, you burst into laughter.
“As mean as you look, you get flustered so easily. It’s adorable.” You said, punctuating the sentence with a coddling pout. 
“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” Joel grumbled, eyes trained straight ahead. 
“It’s hilarious.” 
Your footsteps trailed off as the both of you arrived in front of his house, staring at its squat silhouette in the dark. 
You turned to grin at him, Joel shooting a sideways glance at you, debating whether or not to take the bait. 
“What?” He mumbled, taking the bait. 
“Miller, you devil. You could’ve at least bought me a drink before bringing me back to your place.” 
He rolled his eyes, walking up the porch steps as you trailed behind him. 
“Your place is all the way on the other side of Jackson. So you can either sleep here tonight, or we’ll spend another hour walking around in the dark.” He said, opening the door. 
“Excuses, excuses.” You clucked your tongue, shaking your head with false disapproval, "As much as I'd like that long, romantic, moonlit walk, I am getting a little sleepy. I'll stay the night."
He held the door open for you, gesturing for you to head inside, a motion that you simply returned with an expectant stare.
“What?” He said, trying not to shift under your gaze.
“Aren’t you gonna carry me over the threshold?” 
“Get your ass in the damn house.” 
Your laughter rang, clear as a bell, through the sparse rooms of his house as you kicked off your boots, flouncing up the stairs as if you were right at home. 
He heard the sound of his shower turning on and the syrupy hum of your voice over the splash of water.
He reached for your shoes, overturned and muddied, before straightening them and placing them next to his. Staring at the both of them next to each other, your voice ringing in his ears as you sang a discordant melody in the shower, a flicker of strange emotion shot through him. 
The realisation he wouldn’t mind picking up after you, putting your shoes next to his. They would have a place next to each other, where they belonged, whenever you came home. 
The realisation that he wouldn’t mind if your voice filled up every room in the house, where once he thought he was content with silence. 
As he poured a glass of water for you and began carrying it up to his bedroom, he realised he wouldn’t mind bringing up a glass of water for you every night, and a cup of coffee every morning. 
“I’m going insane.” He muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. 
“You decent?” He called out, knocking on his bedroom door. 
“Hardly ever. Come in!” You sang. 
The scent of his soap hung in the air, clinging to your skin. You grinned at him, a soft glow haloing you from his bedside lamp as you towelled water out of your hair, one of his flannels hanging off your frame.  
“Is that mine?” He swallowed, the words flying out of his mouth so quickly they almost sounded accusatory. 
“Yeah.” You turned to look at his furrowed brow. “What? I can give it back to you if you want.” You said, beginning to unbutton it.
He averted his eyes, that familiar heat shooting under his skin again. “Jesus- just- you can keep it on.” 
You burst into laughter as Joel rubbed the back of his heated neck.
“You can sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He mumbled. 
“Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, your sincerely grateful, soft voice sending his walls tumbling down.
He cut his eyes at you one more time, a vision in his worn, old flannel, before making a move to leave. 
You cleared your throat, the noise exaggeratedly loud in the quiet room. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 
He looked at you, his deep brown eyes wide in confusion, a furrow set in his brow. 
“Aren’t you gonna tuck me in?” 
His cheeks reddened as he stared at you, swallowing thickly. 
Hiding his trepidation behind an exasperated eye roll, he crossed the room. His hand, the skin rough in contrast to the soft blanket, pulled the fabric over your body, covering you. You smiled up at him, that evil glint in your eye that drove him crazy shining up at him. 
“Goodnight kiss?” You whispered with feigned innocence, glancing up at him through thick lashes. 
“Christ.” He whispered, heartbeat pounding in his ears, his heart somewhere between wanting, annoyance and restraint. 
“Please?” You whispered, lips turning up at the corners into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. 
He felt his resolve crumble to pieces, and he couldn’t resist. He leaned in, heartbeat kicking in his chest as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. 
He felt dizzy as he felt your hot breath against his ear, the soft skin of your cheek nuzzling into the scruff on his cheek. 
“Oh, c’mon,” you whispered, lips ghosting his cheek, “you can do better than that, can’t you?” 
He melted against your touch, barely able to formulate a smart retort before he felt your teeth digging into his cheek. 
“Jesus!” He recoiled, the bite radiating with a dull pain. 
“That’s for pooping my party, Miller.” Laughter bubbled from your lips as you watched him run his fingers over the grooves your teeth left in his skin. 
“You’re fucking crazy.” His wounded tone just made you even more amused, your smile growing on your face. 
“Don’t sulk.” You pouted, hand reaching up to skim a thumb across his cheek, and he couldn’t help leaning into your touch. “Let me kiss it better.” 
He let you press a kiss to the quickly fading bite mark, his head swimming as your tongue darted out, giving him a playful lick before you laughed against his skin, breath fanning out over his cheek. 
He turned his head, forehead pressed against yours as his nose brushed yours, his eyes screwed shut.
“You’re driving me crazy.” He mumbled. 
“I know.” 
He pressed his lips to yours, that strange, floaty feeling he had felt downstairs washing over him. You held him close, fingers entangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck as you pulled him onto the bed. 
Lying on his back, he let you press your palms against his shoulders. He stared at the ceiling, feeling barely there, as if he could have just slipped away, your hands the only thing pinning him to earth. He felt it with every kiss you pressed to his lips, when your lips ghosted the line of his jaw, his neck. You were everywhere, and he wanted to keep it that way. 
“All better?” You said, voice barely audible over the roar of blood in his ears. 
“Yes.” 
“Y’know,” you whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with your lips, “I just realised something.“ You looked down at him, the smile that meant trouble returning to your face. “We have a really early morning tomorrow. Goodnight, Joel!”
Just like that, you had rolled off of him and turned off the light, plunging the both of you into darkness. He laid there, barely registering what had just happened, his body already missing your warmth. 
He turned to look at you, your face slackened with sleep as your breath evened out, completely calm in the embrace of sleep as his heart still pounded in his chest, giddy as he turned back to stare at the ceiling. 
He was definitely going crazy.
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The falling | joel miller x f!reader, 5k
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Summary: It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything. You're falling. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone. Or you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST. That's it. Ok, bye. But seriously, angst, a whole lot of angst, alternated POVs, husband!joel, wife!reader, cheater!joel, married couple, Joel fucks another f!person, reference to sexual activity but nothing too detailed, as I said before-ANGST, excessive use of the word fuck, Joel is kind of a dick on this one, as always let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Let me know how you feel about this lost little puppy, I know he sounds arrogant and awful, maybe I can rectify that, on a second part. If you're interested in a closure for these two, hit me in the comments! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘
Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything.
Everything dear and loved and cherished and so close to your heart. Your heart itself.
You still can’t decide if it’s liberating or torturing, to have that exact moment burned in your thoughts like a Polaroid.
But the pain is real. The pain is excruciating. It spreads like vines through your whole body, starting from the pit of your stomach in the form of a bile you try to hold back, moving to your heart’s agonizing clench, licking to the ends of your numb limbs which remain obstinately immobile. It feels almost like floating, but not exactly.
You’re falling; you’re still falling as if there’s no luxurious, expensive floor underneath your feet, holding you surprisingly still up. You wait for the landing, the crush, unmoving, unblinking, not quite breathing. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone.
Your designer’s tote bag, another unnecessarily extravagant gift from your husband, drops from your hands to the floor with a loud thud.
Joel’s thrusts stop immediately and he turns his head to look behind him, while he’s on his knees, balls deep in a female body on all fours. His eyes shut tightly in something you’re not sure how to interpret, dropping his head between his shoulder blades and his palms squeeze the hips of the female body he's holding, until his fingertips go white.
And you’re just standing there, on the threshold of your bedroom, taking in the scene. It’s weird how the mind works under stressful situations. Is the absurdity of the reality that keeps you calm? Is it your brain’s reaction to protect you from collapsing? Are you shutting down right now?
You feel your eyes unable to move around and at the same time you see clearer than ever, as if you’re looking through a wide-angle lens.
You notice all of the stripped clothes, which they don’t seem hastily taken off, the way they pool on various surfaces of the room; they took their time undressing each other.
You notice the crystal tumbler of a half finished liquid, Joel’s whiskey, on his side of the nightstand; they took their time having fun.
You notice the absence of a condom on Joel’s cock as he removes himself from the female hole he was buried deep, all splayed out for him and now you; they took their time before, it seems, there is an intimacy there. This is not a stranger, this is not a first time.
Joel is calm, collected even, as he stands to his full height, grabbing his pants from the floor next to the king sized bed and putting them on. Calculated, steady movements, he looks like he’s trying to stay in control of the situation, diminish it to something else. You pray he doesn’t go down that path.
You look behind him, the female body’s gathering itself into a ball, sitting on your bed now, hands hugging it’s knees, trying to protect its nudity. Your eyes roam her form until they settle on her face. Oh, you know her. She looks -hm, there’s a mosaic of emotions behind her eyes, which are surprisingly bold to look back at you. You see shock, you see fear, you see.. satisfaction?
“Darlin’” Joel’s approaching you, crossing the ridiculously big room, with a steady pace.
His chest is heaving from the effort to regulate his breathing, he’s sweaty, his muscles all bulged from the interrupted fucking, his curls -your curls, fuck, that hurts- damp. He’s so handsome in all his disheveled form. He looks like your Joel.
Imaginary flashes of her fingertips combing through his hair are passing through your mind and you feel your esophagus contracting, a sense of a burning hot liquid moving up to your mouth. You swallow it down.
He reaches to touch your arm, don’t you dare, is all you mutter lowly, still without moving a muscle as if you do, the world will come crushing down. It already did, didn’t you get the memo? Your voice feels foreign to your ears, your tongue feels rough like sandpaper. He obeys.
When does this falling end?
“Baby-”, he tries again, while he steps forward, a condescending tone to his voice, like he’s addressing a toddler.
“Don’t-”, you roll your eyes in your head, god, he smells so good, even with the sweat someone else poured out of his skin, he smells so fucking good. He smells like your Joel. “Don’t come any closer.”
“This-” he exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, as if it’s an unnecessary effort to explain, as if you should understand; of all people, you should know, “this doesn’t mean anything-” his hand gesturing between him and the female body, “she doesn’t mean anything.” You should understand, baby, you should know.
And for the first time her eyes leave yours and land on the face of the deceiver. If this wasn’t happening to you right now, you would take pity on her pained expression. You almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
“Does she know that?” you ask him, your eyes never leaving her tangled form on your bed.
Joel snaps his head to her direction, narrowing his eyes in warning, “Yes, she does.”, his voice comes out strict and final, signaling there’s no room for doubt. He doesn’t sound like your Joel.
“I need you to leave.”, you breathe barely audible, your eyes still on her face; now she doesn’t know where to look, the rug pulled out from under her feet from the man she had inside her minutes ago.
His gaze is cold and indifferent, as if everything is her fault, looking still in her direction. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, the empathetic part of your brain feels for her.
“Get your shit and get the fuck out, what are you waiting for?” he snaps at her.
“Not her, you.” you whisper, it’s impossible to speak louder, all of your energy powers your two standing feet.
He turns to look at you, shocked, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.
“Wh- what are you talking about, sweetheart?” he tries to reason with you, “We need to talk, to-”
“Joel-”, you try again and thank god he’s interrupting you, you don’t have the strength to negotiate right now. Let the dice roll. It’s all fucked, anyway.
“This is my home; I’m not leaving.” he simply states, shaking his head from side to side, staring at you expectantly.
“You’re right. This is your house.” you acknowledge, coming to a painful realization. “Everything is yours; you own everything, don’t you?”, you smile sadly, crouching down to collect you bag.
You turn on your heels and leave the residence formerly known and felt as home, behind you.
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Alarm system disabled.
Joe’s hairs are rising on the nape of his neck, when he checks the alarm app notification on his phone, thinking you came back home.
It’s been an awful month without you, without being able to contact you. He knew where you were of course, he could not for the life of him leave that information escape him, but he didn’t pressure you with an unexpected visit, he knew better.
It’s been a month. That’s plenty of time. You took your time and now you’re ready to talk. You have to be, this can’t be the end of this relationship, this marriage.
He presses your number and hits call. Fuck, he’s still blocked. Maybe you forgot to unblock him, it’s ok, it doesn’t mean anything.
He checks the house’s cameras. Shit. That’s not you. What is she doing there? What the fuck is going on? Alright, he’s going back to the house.
He stands on his feet, right in the middle of a meeting with the board and just leaves them. There’s a distant muttering of where does he think he goes, what happened, what’s gotten into him, this is important for the upcoming deal, but he pays no mind to them.
He needs to talk to you.
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“Yeah, I think I’ve got everything you need,” Maria facetimes you, showing around your closet via her camera. “I’m loading the suitcase to the car and I’m out of here.”
“Thank you Mar-”
“MARIA?” Joel’s voice travels through the space from the ground floor, up.
“Shit, shit, shit, what am I gonna do?” Maria whispers to you turning the call to voice only.
“Just take the suitcase and leave, it’s ok, I only got personal stuff if that’s what he’s worried about. Let him check if it comes to that.”, you try to calm her down.
“Ok, ok-” Maria grabs the handle of the suitcase and moves to leave the walk-in closet.
“Hey.” Joel comes through the door to the bedroom taking in the scene. He hasn’t set foot in this room for nearly a month now.
“Hey.” Maria sounds pissed on the line.
“What are you doing here? Where's Tommy?”, Joel’s face frowns in question. “Tommy's not my keeper, his my partner. My husband, not that you would know what that means, apparently.” Maria just shrugs and moves to pass him by.
“What are you doing, what’s going on here?” he insists, blocking her way.
“I’m just collecting som-”
“How is she? Is she ok?” his voice softening when he asks about you.
“Oh, please, Joel, how is she? Really?” Maria scoffs at him. “She doesn’t want to see you, Joel or hear from you, that’s how she is.”
“Yeah, I gathered that much, thank you.” he mocks back. “Is she on the phone, can I just talk to her?” he extends his arm to reach for the phone. “Over my dead and cold body.” Maria says, pressing the phone on her chest.
His eyes are raging storms, his nostrils flaring with quiet rage. He takes a deep breath “Can you please ask her if I can talk to her, just for five minutes?”
“Why don’t you call her, Joel?” Maria taunts him, emphasizing the pronunciation of his name.
Joel just stares back at her, unfazed. Maria doesn’t move a muscle, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Well, she did move one muscle.
Joel sighs exasperatedly “She blocked my number.”
“I wonder why that is.” Maria twists the knife, “I guess you have your answer, then.”
“Christ-” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “just- just ask her, please.”
Maria lifts the phone to her ear, rolling her eyes in frustration in the process. “Hey, Joel’s here, he’s ask-”
“Yeah, I heard everything.” you interrupt her, “No, I don’t want to talk to him.” Maria is shaking her head negatively at him as you talk, to pass the message.
Joel’s face goes cold and emotionless. “Well, tell her if she wants her belongings, she needs to come and get them herself.”
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It’s been five weeks now and you can’t keep living in your best friend’s and sister in law's clothes. You’re gonna have to go and grab your stuff yourself.
Because it wasn’t enough what you’ve been through, what you’ve heard until you reached that goddamned bedroom door, what you’ve witnessed when you’ve entered, now he’s making you go back there to humiliate you. As you’re checking your calendar for your work schedule to decide on a suitable day, it hits you. You have Joel’s calendar on your phone, too. You always do, it was the only way to have some time together between his visits to work sites and board meetings and bussiness trips and fucking-behind-your-back, apparently.
And then you remember that day where you both stole some time off and decided to spend it cuddling with each other on the couch, talking nonsense and laughing at silly things and hugging and kissing and fucking all night long.
A brainstorm of thoughts run through your head instantly. How could he do that to you? He looked so happy in your arms. Maybe he was right, maybe it was nothing, maybe you should understand, you of all people, you should know. Do you need to do an STD test? How careless could he be? Where there others? Did he ever love you? Do you want to know?
Does it really matter?
You focus again on that day. He’d told you about a big deal coming up, one of the biggest in his career, if not the biggest so far and how important it was to the future of the company.
You searched frantically through his calendar until you found the date of the final meeting, the date where they’d seal the deal. Because there is no way they weren’t. If Joel wanted it so badly, he’d find a way to make it happen.
And you knew your husband, ironic as is sounds now. He was focused to a fault. He wouldn’t even check his phone that day. He’d done it every time since you were together. History indicated that he probably had other reasons, too, for not checking his phone in a timely manner, but you wouldn’t dwell on that. Not right now. Because now you had your chance.
That date was your chance.
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Alarm disabled.
Joel’s phone is vibrating momentarily, not that he noticed, it was silent and tacked away in his jacket pocket, the jacket itself hanging on the back of his chair.
Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, he’s chanting in his mind, under all this calm and confident demeanor, he’s sweating inside.
This is it, this is it, this is it, he repeats like a mantra, watching his opposite CEO, Leo Marks, playing with the pen between his fingers. He’s inspecting the contract again and he’s so close, so close to what he wanted. The room is silent, the long table full of seated lawyers and consultants from both sides, holding their breaths in charged expectation.
Joel knows that Marks is going to sign. He knows it. He worked for it. He convinced him, he made his vision clear as day and he lured him in. This is it. He got this.
Then your face appears in his mind. No, not today, he can’t do this today. You will have to wait. Like you always have. Joel shakes his head slightly, as if to remove you from his thoughts. His fingers get itchy, he wishes he could just check on you. Yes, he just want to check on you.
Are you alright? Are you thinking about him? Do you miss him like he does? Do you stay wide awake at night replaying the same scene over and over until you feel physically ill? Do you know that he thinks about you? Did he show you at all that night? Maybe he should have appeared at your friend’s door out of the blue. Maybe you think he doesn’t care. All he was trying to do was give you space. Respect your boundaries. Let you work everything out.
Fuck.
He reaches for his phone. He doesn’t know why. He knows his number is still blocked. He checks every night, when he's too exhausted from the lack of sleep and prays he could listen to your voice, or the soft sound of your breath when you slept next to him. But he fishes it out of his jacket pocket, anyway and then he sees it.
38 minutes ago.
Alarm disabled.
Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled, the only thought repeated in his head. He immediately searches the cameras for you but no movement is recorded right now. Maybe you already left. His heart rate spikes, his temples feel the pressure of his blood pumping violently in his veins. Cold sweat pours out of his body.
He’s squeezing his eyes shut, mentally counting all the places without cameras inside the house. What if you are still in there and he just can’t see you?
Fuck.
Mark’s voice extract him from his thoughts, “Mr. Miller, everything looks in order as we agreed.”
Joel snaps his eyes back to him, slightly irritated, “Of course it does, your legal team already did a thorough check all these months to get us here today.”
“Yes, yes,” Marks laughs entertained, “I just wanted to look it over one more time, I mean, we really are going to…”
What if you’re still there? What if this is his chance? He could always try to reach you after the deal, convince you to hear him out. Yeah, he can do that. He doesn’t need to chase you down. He can wait a little bit longer, can’t he? He can have it all, right? He was the man that had it all.
A mail pops up on his phone, a compliment note from the management of one of both your favorite hotels in Europe, thanking you for choosing their establishments for your stay, once again. Shit. You’re fleeing the fucking country? Are you fucking serious?
“..Mr. Miller?” Marks insists.
“Hm?” his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.
“I said, before we sign, I need you to walk me through it one more time.” he demands like a little child asking for its favorite bedtime story. “I mean, this is the project of my dreams. I need your reassurance that this is as important for you as it is for us, that it’ll be your only focus for the foreseeable future.” he looks at Joel expectantly.
His only focus.
For the foreseeable future.
Fuck.
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“HONEY!”. Your blood runs cold in your veins to the sound of his baritone voice. Your hand freezes over the shelf with the t-shirts, not making a sound. You didn’t take that long, why is he here? Why isn’t he in his meeting?
Joel enters the bedroom but you’re not there. Fuck, you hear the curse running softly from his lips. You don’t move, you don’t blink, you don’t breathe.
He moves to leave and check elsewhere but then he stops. You hear soft steps and you see the door of the walk-in closet opening. His wide form blocks the light from the outside, his broad shoulders almost taking up all the space of the frame.
He looks disheveled, his baby blue shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top, his hair a mess, like he kept combing his fingers through them. You don’t dare meet his eyes though. You keep your gaze as far as his chin goes, concentrating on the bare patch there. His sole presence electrifies you like he’s already touched you. Your whole body feels on fire and frozen simultaneously. God, you missed him.
“I was calling for you.”, he breathes out and you can feel his fear pulsing through his body. He’s scared you’re gonna run. That’s why he doesn’t leave his spot, blocking the door.
“I know.”
“Were you hiding from me?” his brows are furrowed in a seemingly pained expression from what your peripheral vision could help you understand.
“No, I just chose not to answer you.”, you lower your head, looking at your feet.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” you say hastily, but he’s waiting for a real answer. You breathe deeply, “It- it felt too domestic, you calling for me, me answering back, like how we were before.” He nods, biting his bottom lip. “What are you doing here, Joel?”
“In our house?” the edges of his lips are slightly turned up, his head tilting to one side.
“No, this is your house as you said yourself.”
“Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean it like that..” he sighs in regret, his head deepening in his shoulder blades in an effort to attract your gaze upwards.
“But you’re right.”
“I built it for you.” his voice soft, like it’s a secret meant to stay that way.
“Hm.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” his brows raise in genuine surprise.
“Nothing, forget it.”
“No, tell me.”
“You first.”
He looks perplexed, he forgot your question.
“What are you doing here, right now, Joel?”
“I got the alarm notification and.. it was the only way I could talk to you, honey..”
“But- your meeting-”
He searches your eyes, although you refuse to look at him, analysing your confused expression and it hits him. He smiles in understanding, nodding his head. “So, you chose today on purpose..”
You don’t respond, you keep looking everywhere but his eyes.
He laughs through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t drop everything to come and see you?”
“I really did.”
He gasps in disbelief, almost offended.
“Baby, look at me, please; look at me..” he pleads with you softly. You close your eyes as if in fear you would obey, your chin trembling from the effort to remain calm.
“Baby, look at me. I want you to look at me, now.” he presses in a more authoritative way. He thought he could order you around? Break you?
“No.” you shake your head.
Joel calls you by your name but before he has a chance to spit another soft command-
“I SAID NO!” you open your eyes, targeting them to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably now. You can see from your periphery the look of shock on his face, because you’ve never yelled before. Ever.
“Why, sweetheart?”, he retreats back to his soft side.
“Because that’s exactly what you want. And you can’t always get what you want, Joel, not anymore.” You can’t hold back your tongue now.
“Jesus Christ,” you grit through your teeth, “what do you want from me, hm?” your eyes keep dancing around his face but never on his eyes. He looks dumbfounded, his lips part slightly but you don’t wait for an answer. “What else do you want? Is this some kind of ego thing? You expected me to shout and break things and hit you and tell you to leave her and come back to me? Because your ego is safe, Joel, if that’s what you worry about. I didn’t leave you, you did that first when you went behind my back. So, you walked out on me and not the other way around. Happy? Ready to go on with your life?” You’re grabbing the shelf where your hand previously rested so hard, trying to steady yourself.
For the first time Joel is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t find the words to defend himself, to convince you about his feelings, to soothe you at the very least. He begins to have a glimpse of how he appears in your eyes right now. How much damage he’s done, even before that night. How much ground he’s lost over time.
“Darlin', I just wa-” he begins softly, almost like walking on eggshells, but your body visibly tenses, you jaw shuts tight, your eyes rolling back in your head.
“Stop, just stop! Stop saying what you want! Stop making this about you! Don’t you see? You keep asking me for what you want! Have you stopped for a second, just a second, to think what I want? What I need? I don’t- I don’t recognize you anymore.”
“I-” he closes his eyes in distress, “I love you.” His last retreat. He’s trying anything that could help him. He doesn’t get it. He can’t. He’s not capable. But he used to be. He was the most empathetic person you knew. What the fuck happened?
Your eyes snap though the open closet door at his admision and on to the perfectly made bed.
His gaze follows yours behind his back and shakes his head once more in regret.
“It really didn’t mean-”
“Joel-” you warn him, “have some self respect and don’t say what I think you’re about to say. At least have the guts to admit exactly what you did, I’d appreciate it more.”
He exhales heavily, you’re not giving him an opening to fix this. You’re hanging onto every word he mutters. Not a single one of them is left unparsed and he's not used to that. He knows that if he does not control his anger right now, it's game over.
Heavy silence is hanging between you, each one lost on their thoughts.
“Do you know when you really lost me, Joel?”, you ask him eventually.
Half an hour ago he would swear he had all the answers, but now? Now he sees he’s in the deep, so he stays quiet, searching your eyes that still won't reach his, for answers.
“You lost me when you humiliated her in front of me.”
His face goes white, shocked, he can’t believe his ears. His mouth opens and closes but he makes no sound, how on earth does he respond to that?
“You still don’t get it, do you?”, you pinch the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. “You valued her enough to endanger our wedding, you valued her enough to bring her to our own house, to our bed, Joel; you valued her enough to fuck her raw, to let her know that you were unhappy with me, before I had a chance to realize it myself-”, Joel interrupts you almost panicked “I’m not un-” and for the first time your eyes pierce his in such an anguish that the words die in his throat. “-and then you just diminished her like she was nothing, just to prove a point to me. While she was naked, vulnerable on our bed. And trust me, this is not me defending her, she is as responsible for this as you, but you’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.”
Now he’s the one averting his eyes from you, looking down on his overpriced shoes, his demeanor defeated, this is not the Joel you know anymore.
“And what was the point, Joel? Hm? What? That she means nothing? Then why were you with her? Why did you choose her? Why did you spend your precious time on nothing, while I had to make an appointment to see you? That’s what you did with me, too? I mean nothing, too? Just a warm hole to fuck when convenient?” he snaps his head back to you, shaking it in denial frantically, his eyes blown wide and red from all the emotional stress you push onto him.
“But I guess I got my answer about a month ago, hm?” It’s one of those moments that epiphanies hit you as you speak uncontrollably, you just can’t stop your mind from running wild, your mouth from spilling bile, your heart from pounding so hard in your chest, your ears start to ring, your grasp on the shelf tightening even more for balance.
“And that tells me a lot about who you really are. It’s not just about the fucking, Joel, Jesus-, -for the brilliant man I know you to be, you’re stumbling through your blindest moment.”, you shake your head in disappointment, tears still running freely down your face, licking your jawline and falling like a waterfall to the carpeted floor. You feel so done, you find it pointless to explain any further.
“I- I don’t know you, Joel, I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did,” you conclude, “maybe you’re right,” you slowly nod to yourself, “and everything is my fault after all.” you whisper, not sure if you want him to hear that part.
He did. “I never said that it was your fault, baby. When did I ever say that?” his face is contorted in pain, “None of this is your fault, none of it, you hear me?” he wants so desperately to cross the fucking room and hold you tight, crush all your pain and insecurities and self hatred under an asphyxiating hug. He also knows that he won't make even two steps before you flee, or step back from him and he can’t for the life of him witness that. Because that’s how much he needs you. He prefers you standing there, where he can see you, where he can have you, even if you wither and die under the enormous trauma he’s putting you through.
“So stupid.. I was- I am so stupid..” you’re repeating to yourself almost deliriously, rubbing your fingers on your forehead.
“This isn’t you, sweetheart, you don’t talk like that, don’t- don’t do that to yourself.” Joel tries to bring you back.
“But this is you, isn’t it, Joel? The real you?” you bite back. “This isn’t me, really? How do you like the new me, Joel? Do you take pride on your creation?” you laugh bitterly at him. “Yeah, how you’d always call me? Polite little thing? Sweetheart?” you’re infuriated now, a rise fighting to explode through you. “How does it feel, Joel? To know you’re responsible for changing someone to their core? To know you had that much power over them?”
Joel’s shaking his head once again in desperation, hot tears spilling from his eyes, god, had he ever cried before? this is not a battle he can win, he sees that now. The damage is too great. What on earth was he thinking?
“Please, please honey, can we just take a breather, sit down and talk about everything?” he pleads with you, a last thread of hope shinning in his red rimmed eyes.
“Take a breather..” you mutter through your teeth, “you mean the breather you took while you were fucking someone else instead of talking to me?”, Joel shuts his eyes in defeat, there’s nothing he can say anymore. “I think you got it backwards, Joel.”
You take a steadying breath and command your legs internally to hold on a little while longer and move forward; clothes, suitcase, life left behind.
“Don’t contact me again, unless is via your legal team.” is the last bullet that hits Joel’s chest, right through his broken heart.
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archieimagines · 2 years
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touching din | din djarin
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Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch. 
his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!
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The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.
The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.
It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.
The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.
“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.
The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”
A nod. “That’s a yes.”
“I didn’t hear you come up.”
He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”
And then he did what you loved.
He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.
A beskar kiss.
You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.
He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.
Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.
Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.
But he surprised you.
His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.
His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.
He wanted more.
You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.
He loved this.
You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.
He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.
His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.
He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.
Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”
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Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.
Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.
Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.
You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.
But then… Had you made that up?
You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.
But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.
Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—
“Morning.”
— What you thought was slumber. 
His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.
It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”
“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”
A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.
The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.
But yet… 
Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.
It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.
Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.
It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.
You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.
Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.
Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”
He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.
His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.
Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.
“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.
Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.
“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”
“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”
“Black. Brown, black.”
You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?
The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--
His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.
A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.
You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.
You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”
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He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.
Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.
Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.
Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.
Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.
“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through. 
Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.
“We need to go!”
You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements. 
The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.
You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again. 
The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.
Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.
He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.
Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.
Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”
You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.
The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight. 
It was his own fault.
Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.
You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.
You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”
Silence.
“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”
There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”
He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.
“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”
“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”
“No.”
“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”
“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”
“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”
“I know you can.”
“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”
He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”
“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”
“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”
Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.
“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”
“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”
“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”
“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”
He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.
Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.
What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.
You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”
The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Hey. Look at me.”
“I can’t, Din.”
“Why not?”
Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”
Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”
Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.
“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.
But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.
“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”
For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”
“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”
“That’s not how I-”
“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”
“You know I can’t show you my face.”
A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.
Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.
“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”
He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.
“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”
“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”
You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.
Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.
“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”
And there was darkness.
He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”
He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.
“Why do you never-”
You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.
Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.
“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”
He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.
“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”
“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.
The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”
“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”
You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”
A hum of humour. “This is the way.”
You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.
You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.
He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.
And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.
He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.
Clearly, this was his first one ever.
You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.
And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.
When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”
“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”
“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.
“We do this more often.”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”
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honeyedmiller · 10 months
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Traditions | Joel Miller
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pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader
rating: explicit. 18+ only.
warnings: husband!joel, joel is handsy af in this, no outbreak!joel, au where joel doesn’t have kids, mentions of christmas, tooth-rotting fluff bc joel and reader are just so in love, smut (body worship, unprotected piv, m oral receiving, riding, reader praises the fuck out of joel bc he deserves it, breeding kink), brief talk of having kids, no use of y/n.
a/n: sorry this was kinda poorly written. this wasn't revised, so apologies for any mistakes. hope you enjoy ~
word count: 4k
synopsis: you and joel make holiday traditions in your new home.
divider by the incredibly talented @saradika 🤎
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The early December sun bled through the cream curtains of your bedroom, stirring you awake. You softly groaned at the world’s way of waking you up, pleading just five more minutes in your thoughts. Your eyes slowly peeled open as you took a deep breath, stretching your limbs to try and wake your tired body up. A couple of bones popped in the process, loosening up your post-sleep stiffness. 
An arm weighed heavy across your waist, and you turned your head to find your husband snoring lightly, still deep in his slumber. You smile softly as your eyes run over his features. He looked so peaceful while he slept, not a worry in the world etched within the lines of his face. 
You turned on your side so you were facing him, bringing your hand up to softly trace the features on his face. The alarm clock on his nightstand that you could barely see over his broad shoulders read 8:20. Normally, you two loved to sleep in at least one day during the weekend. You wish you could stay in this blissful little cocoon of warmth and sleepiness and content, all while being held by your husband. 
But, to your misfortune (and truthfully, to Joel’s too), you had errands you needed to run today–one of which included getting Christmas decorations for your house. You and Joel had moved into this new house during the summertime, so you needed to re-up on decorations as Christmas was nearing the corner. 
“Joel, honey, it’s time to wake up.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to startle him awake. His eyebrows quickly twitched as they threaded together. He groaned softly, refusing to open his eyes. 
“What time is it?” He mumbles, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand that now rested on his cheek. 
“Almost eight thirty, baby. We have to get up. We have errands to run today.” You reminded him, and he groaned again as he shook his head. 
“Five more minutes.” You softly chuckled at his response. You and him really were two peas in a pod. 
“Uh, uh, c’mon cowboy. Up n’ at ‘em.” Your hand travels down to his chest, patting it twice as you try to pull yourself away from him. 
Joel tugs you back and pulls you closer to him so your chest is flush against his, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You card your fingers through his hair gradually, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 
“I want to stay in bed as much as you do, but the sooner we get these errands done the sooner we can come back and relax.” You try to reason with him, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. 
“Fine. I guess I’ll get up.” 
“I’ll make breakfast after I shower so we won’t leave on empty stomachs.” You reassure him, knowing that your breakfast was the one thing he usually looked forward to on Saturday mornings. 
“Why make breakfast when I have a delicious meal riiight,” He pauses, flipping you on your back so he's hovering over you. He leans down and his lips brush your ear, the coarse hair of his mustache and stubble tickling your soft skin. “Here.” He whispers, kissing your neck as his hand travels down the curves of your body, dangerously close to the place you were most desperate for him. 
A whimper bubbled in your throat, but you shook your head and playfully smacked his arm. 
“Joel Miller, you’re a naughty man.” You laugh, and his face hovers above yours once more. 
“And you’re a naughtier woman,” He smirks, kissing you once. “Naughtiness deserves a punishment, hm?” 
“If naughtiness deserves punishment, does that mean I get to smack your cute ass too?” Mischief was written all over your features, but Joel’s brows turned downward. 
“Don’t even think about it, sweet girl, or I’ll deny you.” 
You quirk your brow at him. “Deny me of what, exactly?” 
“Me. My cock that you seem to fuckin’ love so much.” He shrugs, as if any part of this conversation was nonchalant. 
You decided to tease him further, seeing how far you’d get. “I hate to inform you, Mr. Miller, I do have some handy dandy trustee ‘ol vibrators stashed away that can do the job just fine.” 
He clenched his jaw at your words, rolling his eyes. “Ever the smart fuckin’ mouth on you, eh?” He chuckles, knowing you’d immediately fold for him and let him take care of you much better than your pink and purple toys can. 
“Isn’t that why you married me?” You can’t wipe the stupid grin off of your face as he buries his head into your neck. 
“Mm, one of the reasons,” He moves his hands up to your breasts underneath the shirt you were wearing, squeezing the soft flesh generously. “‘S okay darlin’. I know you only married me for my skills in the bedroom.” 
“Ah, ya got me there.” You throw your hands up in surrender, and Joel lets out a hearty laugh. He moves his hands from underneath your shirt up to your wrists, pinning them down to the bed as he leans down to kiss you. 
“You sure we can’t just stay in bed and y’know, let me put my amazing bedroom skills to use?” Joel juts his bottom lip out and pouts, and you can’t help but laugh at how persistent he was. 
“No, my love. We really do have to run these errands.” You run your hand through his brown curls, pushing yourself up to kiss him before wiggling out from under him. He collapses onto the bed with a groan, slowly making his way out from the array of your fluffy comforter, blankets, and pillows. 
He stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your forehead. 
“Last person to reach the shower has to make a pot of coffee!” You giggle as you run to your master bathroom, Joel right on your heels. 
“I don’t think so, missy.” He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, moving you behind him so he can reach the shower first. 
“Asshole!” You laugh, eyes squinted as you swat his arm. 
“Yeah, but you love me.” Joel winks at you and you roll your eyes, quirking a brow at him as he turns on the shower to a temperature comfortable for you both. 
“That I do, Mr. Miller. That I do.” 
-
Joel ended up making the pot of coffee anyhow after you both showered and got ready for the day. You gratefully thanked your loving husband as he poured both yours and his serving into two thermoses before you set out for the day. 
You had a game plan in your mind, because the quicker you got these errands done, the quicker you’d be able to change into sweats and watch a Christmas movie. First stop was getting gas. You offered Joel for you to pump the gas, but he refused and begrudgingly reminded you that as long as you were with him, you wouldn’t ever be touching a gas pump again. 
Next stop was the local bakery. You needed a restock on the fresh bread they baked, and every holiday season, they made pastries that were absolutely delectable. 
After you left the bakery, you needed to go to Target to get the majority of your Christmas decorations. You drove in a comfortable silence, Joel’s hand securely on your thigh as he drove. A soft country song was playing over the radio, and you looked out of the window to see many stores and houses already decorated for the holidays. You smiled at the sight, loving this time of year more than anything. 
“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Joel breaks the silence as he looks over at you when you reach a red light. You look at him, admiring his handsome features before leaning over the center console to kiss him. 
“Nothing in particular, baby. Can’t wait to decorate our house.” You smile at him, and he gives your thigh a soft squeeze. 
When you arrived at Target, it took everything in you to not run to the Christmas section to scour for the perfect decorations. Joel could sense your excitement, and he chuckled as he got a cart to give to you. Joel had to take bigger strides to keep up with how fast you were moving, but he couldn’t help but adore the excitement that overtook you. 
There were so many options for decorations, you didn’t even know where to start. You were examining some ornaments when Joel wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. 
“See any you like?” He asks, turning his head to kiss your cheek. 
“Should we stick with the classic red ornaments? I think they’re so pretty, but multicolored ornaments would go good with our tree since we have the white lights around it.” 
Truthfully, Joel had no idea decorating for Christmas would be full of so many options. Before you moved into your house, you and Joel lived in an apartment that barely had room for a four foot tree. Now you had more than plenty of room for various decorations that were going to stay with you both for years and years to come, encapsulating new traditions within the four walls of your home. 
“Let’s do classic red. We can get multicolored ones next year.” Joel kisses your shoulder before standing up behind you, rubbing circles into your soft, sweater-covered waist. 
You nod in agreement, putting the ornaments in the cart. You pick up a few other things including an ornament that has two wedding rings interlinked with a ‘forever yours’ engraved at the bottom, Joel insisting it needs to be put up on the front of the tree. 
“So do I get to unwrap you as my present this year?” Joel’s lips brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 
You laugh at his joke, rolling your eyes. “Such a cheeseball, I swear.” You huff, and he holds his hands up. 
“What, I can’t admire my beautiful wife in some sexy lingerie then gladly take it off of her?” 
“I’ll let you if you buy it for me. Last time I bought a pretty set, you literally ripped it off of me. You’re a menace, Mr. Miller.” You give him a fake stern glare, reencountering your husband’s inability to be patient and take the pretty pink set you liked so much off of you. 
“Fine. Fair point. Maybe I’ll get you some for Christmas.” 
Joel slots his hand in yours and gives it a squeeze, and a soft smile curls onto your lips. 
“C’mon, let’s look at the trees.” 
-
“A little to the left.” You tell Joel as he hangs up some garland you found on your trip. He does as told, moving to the left before you stop him and tell him it’s perfect. He steps off the stepstool he was on, wrapping his arm around your waist as he observes his handiwork. 
It was five in the evening now, and Joel had just finished putting up the last of the decorations. Your living room basked in a soft yellow light, complimentary of the Christmas tree and the fireplace. 
You were in awe that your living room looked so festive and warm. Owning your own home with the love of your life was something you’ve always dreamed of, and decorating it for one of your favorite holidays had your heart feeling all fuzzy and warm. It was cliché and you knew it, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
You looked up at Joel with a proud smile. His dark eyes reflected the soft lights and the fire as he stared back at you, eyebrows creasing together. 
“What?” He chuckles, pulling you in closer. You grin as you rest your hands onto his solid chest, sliding them up until they intertwine at the back of his neck. 
“Just grateful I have such a hardworking, loving man.” You kiss him briefly, and his hands slide from your waist and down to your ass before you have a chance to pull away. He hums against your lips as he squeezes your pillowy flesh, causing you to gasp. He took that as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, softly groaning as his hands started to roam furiously. A giggle bubbled in your throat, and he nearly whined when you pulled away from him. 
“So needy, Mr. Miller.” 
“You still owe me a chance to show you my neat bedroom skills, Mrs. Miller.” He retorts, recalling the conversation you had with him this morning. 
“Mm, that I do,” Your eyes glance down to the fireplace, tilting your head in curiosity. “Can we try a new location?” Your pleading eyes look into his as you bat your lashes, knowing Joel always gave in when you gave him that look. 
“And where would that place be?” 
You nod your head down next to the fireplace. “I think it’ll be romantic.” You shrug, and Joel laughs. 
“It does, baby, but you know my knees and back ain’t what they used to be.” 
“Who said you’d be doing the work?” You quirk a brow up at him, a sly smile curling onto your lips. Joel’s cock throbbed at the thought of his pretty little wife taking care of him. 
“Darlin’, are you sure? You don’t have to.” He shakes his head, knowing he gets off just on pleasuring you alone. 
“Can’t your wife show you how much she appreciates her hardworking man?” You take his hand and tug on it, grabbing two pillows from your couch before tossing them on the carpet near the fireplace. 
“Fuck, baby. ‘M so goddamn lucky.” Joel groans, kissing your temple. You pull him in for a kiss as you begin to unbutton his favorite flannel, sliding the worn material off of his broad shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your touch, so inviting and full of life. Home. 
Your nails lightly scratched down his soft torso. He was slightly insecure about his tummy, but you loved it. More of him for you to love. 
You begin to trail your kisses down his neck, nipping at his collarbone and chest as you fumble with his belt buckle. You get it undone, sliding the leather through the loops in his jeans and tossing it on the floor before undoing his button and zipper. He takes the liberty of shucking his jeans off himself, standing before you in nothing but his boxers. 
Your eyes roamed his body hungrily, licking your lips as you trailed your gaze back up to his. Joel’s breathing began to slightly quicken, getting too turned on for his own good just by your lustful stare. 
“So handsome,” You whisper. “Lay down for me, baby.” And he does. He situates himself so his head is propped up on a pillow, staring at you. 
“No fair that I’m nearly naked and you’re still fully dressed.” He playfully pouts, and you laugh. You easily discard your warm sweater over your head and let it pool to the floor with the rest of Joel’s clothes. Your pants follow suit so you’re just left in your bra and panties, and Joel’s dark eyes admire the sight before him. 
“C’mere baby.” He says, holding a hand out to you. Your hand slots in his and he tugs you down so you’re level with him. He grabs your hips and maneuvers you until you’re straddling his hips. 
The flames illuminate his face, softening his features in a way that makes you fall in love with him even more. 
Your gaze moves down to his plush lips before moving back up to his eyes, smiling in the slightest before moving down to kiss him again. One of his hands moves to cup the back of your neck, pushing you further into him to deepen the kiss. You moan softly and can’t help yourself when you slowly start to grind your hips into his, clothed clit catching his bulge just right. 
The whole thing is cathartic, wanting to prove to him how much you appreciate him and everything he does for you, though he already knows it. 
“I love you.” You mumble against his lips, and separate yourself from him to nose at his scruffy jawline to litter soft kisses among his jaw. You move down to his neck, licking a long stripe up a spot that drives him absolutely crazy. His hands grip your hips tighter, the cool metal of his wedding band pressing into your hot skin. 
“I love you–too, fuck, love you too, baby.” He can’t control the noises that fall from his throat as you suck onto his collarbone and chest in the slightest, tongue soothing over the areas you’ve bitten. 
You make your way down his torso, making sure to kiss his stomach a few times before looking up at him. 
“You’re so handsome, my love.” 
Your lips are back on his skin and Joel’s heart fucking flutters. You’re the only woman in the world that can make him feel so adored, so appreciated, so loved. Your praise always gets to him. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever find the right words to tell you what your words do to him. 
Your lips find purchase near his happy trail, poking your tongue out to lick his skin just before the waistline of his boxers. You grab the elastic band, tapping his hips gently. He lifts his hips for you and you easily slide the underwear off his body. He cradles your cheek for a few seconds, admiring how pretty you look. 
You look down at his weeping cock, pre cum bedaubed on his tip. You take his length gently in your hand, giving it a couple of tugs before moving your head down to kiss his thighs. It was rare when you had opportunities to worship Joel’s body like this, so you were going to take advantage of it. 
He only ever got to be soft and slow with your body, never giving himself the grace to allow you to do the same for him. He always made sure your pleasure came first, but tonight, and many more if the stubborn man would let you, his pleasure came first. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he makes you feel. 
You drag your lips up to the apex of his thigh, kissing his hot skin until you get to the base of his cock. You moved your lips to his tip, kissing it once before licking the pre cum off of him. He groaned softly, eyes falling closed. He tossed an arm over his eyes, trying his hardest not to cum just from your lips touching his throbbing cock. 
You gave him a few more slow tugs before licking the underside of his length, humming against him. You finally decided to stop being a little tease and took him into your mouth, inching down slowly until your nose met the tuft, dark curls at the base of his cock. 
He was heavy in your mouth, throbbing at the feeling of your lips wrapped around him. He cradled the back of your head with his other hand, signaling for you to move. You slid your mouth up his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as you worked your way to the top. His silky flesh slid easily against the flat of your tongue, working its way up and down his length to create a steady rhythm. 
You moan around him as you taste the salt of him on your tongue. You move one hand to brace his thigh and the other to gently toy with his balls, knowing that’s what drove him crazy. 
Throaty moans were elicited from your husband, hand tightening on the back of your head in the slightest. 
“Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, just like that mama. Right there.” You whine against his cock when he calls you that, something purely primal licking a flame into your core and up your spine. 
“You like when I call you that?” Joel chuckles, uncovering his eyes with his arm. He looks down at you as desire has completely taken over your expression, zeroed in on one thing only: making your husband cum. 
You furrow your brows as you look up at him, and he moves his hand from the back of your head to cradle under your jaw. He lifted your mouth off of him slowly, drool spilling from your bottom lip as it was still connected to his swollen tip. 
“Answer me, darlin’.” He tilts his head at you, and you shyly nod. 
“Yes.” You’re breathless, moving your mouth back down to his cock before he stops you. 
“Wanna fill you up. Ride me, baby.”
Your thighs clench at his words, the flame in your core burning hotter each second that passes. 
You discard your panties and straddle him once more, the heat from the fire keeping your body a comfortable temperature. 
Joel’s hands slide up your body and up your spine, goosebumps forming onto your skin at his expert touch. He easily unclasps your bra and tosses it to the side, moving his hands to the front to grab the pillowy flesh. 
You slide his tip against your dripping cunt a couple of times before slowly sinking down onto him, the fullness setting your body aflame. 
You moan as you toss your head back, and the feeling of Joel rolling your sensitive nipples between his thumb and index fingers have you keening for release. 
You start to grind your hips back and forth, building sweet friction before you settle your hands on his chest to move up and down. Joel’s hands move down to the curve of your ass, giving it a playful smack as he admires you bouncing on him. 
“Fuck, Joel, feel so good.” You cry, eyes screwing shut at the burning pleasure becoming harder to ward off. 
“Takin’ such good care of me, mama. ‘M gettin’ close.” He says, hands moving to settle onto your hips. You whine in response, moving down so your body is flush with his as you give him another searing, passionate kiss. 
“You deserve to be taken care of too, Joel. So grateful for you, my honey.” Your lips are next to his ear now, whispering praises to him like it was the last thing you’d ever do on this earth. 
“Fuckin’ love you. Everythin’ about you.” Joel’s voice is strained now, a tell that he was about to come undone. One of Joel’s hands moves down to rub at your clit furiously, desperate to send you over the edge. 
“I love you too—oh, fuck.” You cry, the internal flame finally engulfing your body as a whole. Your orgasm triggered Joel’s as your tight cunt squeezed him, and he held your hips steady to release everything he had into you. Your body convulsed a few times before finally settling down, laying on top of Joel. He wrapped one arm around the small of your back as the other hand traced patterns on your warm skin, kissing your head a few times before a deep chuckle rumbles within his throat. 
You lift your head to look at him. “What?” Your voice is timid again, too fucked out to be any octaves louder than the crackling flames of the fire. 
“One of these days ‘m gonna fuck a baby into you, Mrs. Miller. Then I’ll get to call you mama for real.” 
You tucked your face into his neck at his words, laughing softly. You and Joel have talked about kids before, but both agreed you’d want to buy a house first with a possibility of owning a dog too before having any. 
You kissed Joel’s neck once more before hovering your face over his, smiling down at him. “Until then, Mr. Miller, we’ll need to start our own traditions… just us two for now. Starting with fucking by the fireplace more often.” You laugh, and Joel shakes his head with a hearty chuckle as he flips you over so you’re underneath him. 
“That I can do, darlin’,” Joel looks at you with a knowing smirk. “Round two?” 
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tags: @ilovepedro ; @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis
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talaok · 8 months
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The carpet
pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader
Summary: You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.
Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason
a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.
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"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.
You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.
You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.
"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist
Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.
"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.
"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.
But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.
"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 
You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.
Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.
"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.
"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.
"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.
"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"
You huffed out a laugh 
"'s that right?"
"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.
"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.
They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 
His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.
"we gotta go" you murmured
"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.
And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.
"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"
__ __ __
the carpet was booming tonight,
celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.
You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.
But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.
"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.
"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers
"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.
"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.
"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.
"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes
"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.
"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.
"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"
"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.
"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke
"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.
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