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Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.  

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.  

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.  

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow.  I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

[rutschsblog]

room for three

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader x arthur morgan

Summary: When Joel and Arthur get caught in a storm and need a place to stay, they weren't expecting to find you—a temptress who offers them shelter in your cabin, and wants nothing more than for the two rugged cowboys to keep you warm.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Smut MDNI Porn With Minimal Plot, Threesome (MFM, some MMF dynamics), oral (f receiving), v fingering, unprotected p in v, the boys take turns with you, multiple creampie, cumplay/eating, so much dirty talk, praise kink, ma'am/sir kinks, brief breeding kink. Red Dead universe, Cowboy!Joel. Lowkey getting throuple vibes so...we'll see if there's more parts to come.

Wordcount: 10.3k

A/N: thank you @joelsversion you made my brain rot just from mentioning joel x reader x arthur, this one is for YOU!!! And ty for being the devil on my shoulder for it and letting me spam you with snippets and thoughts in DMs hehehe ILY! also ty @cupofjoel for being another pair of eyes on it and giving me feedback & encouragement I needed!

When Joel teamed up on hunting down a bounty with Arthur, this was not how he expected it to go.

Halfway to the town where their target was last spotted, they’d taken a break from riding right as the sky opened up above their heads and a light drizzle started. Joel had gestured up towards the dark, angry clouds, insisting that they should ride harder to get to town before a storm started, but Arthur had brushed off his concerns, insisting that they’d be fine finding a place to hole up for the time being.

Then they were trekking through a more densely wooded area as the rain began to fall harder, the only thing stopping them from being completely soaked was the thick branches above their heads, leaves protecting them from being drenched as much as the hats on their heads.

Joel was letting out unhappy grunts every now and then as they continued to walk, searching for some cover with no avail, and Arthur groaned, tilting his head back to roll his eyes before glancing at his friend.

“Quit your moaning, will ya?” Arthur grumbled, and Joel’s eyes narrowed, shooting an irritated glare towards the man leading the way across the wet forest floor.

“Not moaning,” Joel muttered, the whole situation only reminding him why he was a lone wolf, and avoided every invitation extended to join the Van der Linde gang like it was the plague. Arthur was the only person he’d ever consider teaming up with, and only ever temporarily.

But now he was wishing he wouldn’t even do that, aching for a glass of whiskey and the conversation of Ellie, the little spitfire outlaw girl he’d recently taken under his wing back in the town they had just rode out from.

“Shoulda kept riding,” Joel mumbled, and Arthur’s head sharply turned so he could glare back over his shoulder at the comment.

“Well, not much to do about that now, is there?” Arthur shot back, the two men continuing to glare at each for a moment before Joel broke the gaze, shifting his glare out at the trees all around them while the rain continued to fall harder, and Arthur sighed. “Just keep looking, alright? There’s gotta be some cover ‘round here.”

A few more minutes of trekking that got increasingly more difficult turned up nothing, until the rustling of branches off to the side caught the attention of both men, who each whirled around quickly towards the sound, unhampered by their wet clothes as hands flew to revolvers in their respective holsters.

And that was when you appeared.

You were a pretty little thing, something that Joel was too embarrassed to ever admit was the first thing he noticed about you—which, in retrospect, was a very tame thought considering what was in store for the three of you that night.

A simple blouse and lightweight skirt clung to your frame due to the rain that had steadily begun to pour, a hunting rifle held steady in your grasp, though you weren’t pointing it at either of the outlaws. Instead it was pointed casually towards the ground, clearly intended to be used for hunting animals and not men, but the way your fingers twitched and tightened around the gun let both men know that you wouldn’t hesitate to aim it at either one if they reached fully for their own weapons.

Arthur was the first to slowly drop his hand, his silent show of meaning no harm no surprise to Joel—his friend had always had a soft spot for a pretty face, going so far as to make a fool of himself for a lady on more than one occasion (even if most of the time that was for just one lady).

Joel’s fingers hovered in the air around his revolver for a few moments longer, but as your eyes—sharp, calculating as they flickered between both men to gauge their intentions—followed Arthur’s hands as he raised them in the air to further show he had no ill will, your grip relaxed on your rifle, stance relaxing from its tensed position to draw if needed, and Joel finally let his hand fall back to his side as well.

“Howdy, Miss,” Arthur was also the first to speak in this odd situation they had found themselves in, facing the sudden appearance of a woman in these goddamned woods Arthur had gotten them trapped in, his hand coming up to tilt the brim of his drenched hat towards you in greeting as the rain beat on all your forms.

“Howdy there, cowboys,” you replied, leaning back slightly as your face relaxed from the sound of the man’s low rasp, glancing between both of the strange men a few more times before settling on the other one who hadn’t spoken yet.

“Evenin’,” Joel muttered, giving you a slight nod, revealing another deep timbre rumbling from an equally broad chest, and you looked back and forth between both men again.

Slowly, a brightness entered your eyes, joining that sharpness to create a gaze as enticing as the tiny smirk that curled onto full lips as you asked slowly, evenly, as if trying not to spook a horse or perhaps testing the waters, "And what are you two gentlemen doing out here all on your lonesomes?"

Arthur’s hands moved slowly then, trying equally as much not to spook you with any sudden movements as he rested them on his hips, adopting a more casual stance even as the rain continued to fall around you while he replied, “Got caught out in this frightful weather, I’m ‘fraid. Just lookin’ for somewhere warm and safe ‘till it passes over.”

"Oh?" you arched an eyebrow, that smirk twitching up to spread those pretty lips just a bit wider, before glancing back further in the woods. "Lucky for you. I got a cabin a little ways away, if y'all need a place to dry off and warm up.”

When you looked back at them, there was a mischievous twinkle in your eye now, your smirk shifting into something knowing, something that caused a flame to lick inside of Joel’s veins that he was fairly certain shouldn’t be there, but it was stoked higher as you added, “It's small, though. Hope there’s room for three.”

And then there was a wink from you after those words—a tiny, inconsequential thing. Could have meant anything.

But it sealed the fate for the three of you that night, and looking back at it now, Joel thinks you all knew it at that moment.

Something in the humid air shifted, a charge like that before thunder striking sparking to life between each of you, an addicting magnetism as Joel glanced towards Arthur from the corner of his eye, hoping to find something grounding in the man to deter his quickly wandering thoughts at that comment.

But just one look at his friend showed that he was probably far worse off than Joel. A smirk was slowly curling up half of Arthur’s lips as he gazed at you, thumbs moving to hook on his belt as he shifted back on his feet before turning his head slightly to meet Joel’s gaze.

The bastard must have seen what Joel was thinking just from that shared look, as Arthur’s smirk twitched into a dangerously wicked grin, one he quickly tried to cover up by rubbing a large hand over his chin, covering up his mouth with his palm to compose himself before glancing back towards you.

“That’d be mighty kind of you, miss,” Arthur drawled, giving you a deep nod to show that he did mean the words, even as the hints of that wickedness didn’t completely disappear from his face when his hand dropped. Though the grin had melted back into a tiny knowing smirk as he met your own mischievous gaze straight-on. “We’d both be nothin’ but a couple of fools to deny such hospitality right about now.”

“I believe you would be,” you replied easily, and Joel suspected both he and Arthur knew they were in for it when your eyes were just as knowing, smirk just as wicked while you turned to begin to head through the trees, gesturing with a nod of your head for them to follow as you introduced yourself.

“Arthur Morgan,” the outlaw introduced himself, still taking the lead in this conversation as he walked after you first, and Joel followed, helpless but to follow this tantalizing force of gravity, the growing tension in the air that was just as heavy as the storm that was brewing while they followed you to your home that you were offering to them for shelter. “This is my friend, Joel Miller.”

“Friend’s a strong word,” Joel spoke up finally for the second time since meeting you, and he was surprised by the bright laughter that left your lips to echo through the air towards where they were dutifully following behind you, sending a tingle down Joel’s spine, his gaze straying down your drenched form and locking in on the way your hips swayed while you expertly led the way through the forest.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintances, gentlemen," you said, your entire presence one of casual confidence, though there was something almost...seductive, some hidden innuendo in the way you called them gentlemen.

Like you knew they weren’t.

Like you knew exactly what they were thinking.

And when you shot another smirk back over your shoulder when the three of you broke through a clearing, a small cabin plainly in view—Joel realized that you weren’t just aware of the energy shift between you three, but that you were feeding it.

"Well?” you said with a sigh once you reached the door, tugging it open and offering the tempting promise of not being pelted by rain, and something even more satisfying when you shot them both a considerably suggestive smile. “Coming?”

Arthur’s hand found his face again, long fingers stroking across his chin as he glanced from you to Joel, that wicked smile dancing across his lips again, and heat coursed through Joel at the sight of his friend’s knowing grin, one that he felt himself slowly returning.

"Don't mind if I do,” Arthur murmured, keeping his gaze locked with Joel for just a moment longer, something unspoken passing between the two, the same way they always communicated before Arthur followed you into the one-room residence, and Joel followed, the two men allowing themselves to be swept up in the heat of your not so subtle flirtation, and whatever was to follow.

You closed the door behind the two men after they entered, leaving the three of you very much alone until the worst of the storm had passed.

Glancing back between the two broad-shouldered, rough and tough cowboys in your small home, you couldn’t help but hope that the storm would last all night.

"Thank you greatly for the kindness, ma’am,” said the more talkative one—Arthur Morgan, he had introduced himself, the man holding a tad more amiability than his friend, but just as equally rugged as his more silent, surly companion.

Were you a fool for inviting these two total strangers in like this? 

Oh, absolutely.

Did you care when they were both taking turns not so subtly looking at you like you were the sweetest thing they’d seen in weeks, and they were nothing but a couple of starving men dying for just a taste?

Not a bit.

"But of course," you smiled at them both as they found spots in the center of the small cabin, being so kind as to set their weapons down on the tiny table you used for dining, still exchanging little knowing looks here and there that sent your pulse racing, head swimming with dark desire. "Couldn't leave two cowboys out in the woods when there's a storm brewin’."

You moved towards your quaint dining table to rest your own hunting rifle there—and if the path you took led you to brush your shoulder across Arthur’s sinfully broad chest, so be it.

The quiet, sharp intake of breath from the man as you grazed him was a very, very good sign, and you smirked to yourself as you peeled your jacket from the rest of your wet clothes, draping the clothing over the back of a chair before turning back to face the two.

Perhaps you were the lucky one.

“Now, gentlemen,” you started with a sigh, pushing your wet hair over to one shoulder, revealing the slope of your neck and the rain drops lingering on the skin there, your blood running hotter when the attention of both men snapped right to it at the movement. “There’s plenty of ways to warm up from the chill. I could get a fire going for y’all, if you please.”

There was another smile slowly slipping onto Arthur’s lips, and your heart was racing now, pounding in your chest as your eyes lingered on how surprisingly soft those lips looked before glancing over to his friend.

Joel’s eyebrow arched, his gaze dragging down how the layers of your clothes clung to your skin, openly appreciating the way it accentuated your curves as his low voice caressed your ears with a leading, “Or…?”

You smirked, glad he had taken the bait, and you kept your gaze locked with Joel’s when he looked back up at your face, even as you took a step closer to his friend while you repeated, “Or…”

Your footsteps stopped in front of the other man, chests brushing dangerously close as you pulled your eyes away from Joel to look up at Arthur, raising your own eyebrow as you took the opportunity to give an appreciative glance over the way his clothes stuck to his strong frame as you whispered huskily, “We could always see if there is room for three.”

With a tilt of your head to the side, you let Arthur’s gaze slip past over your shoulder to the small bed in the corner of the room, referencing your same sentiment you had alluded to with a wink earlier, your intentions then perfectly clear now with your sultry words.

A low rasp of a chuckle emitted from Arthur’s chest, and you could almost feel the vibrations of the sound with how close your chest was to his, and you found yourself leaning in closer, brushing your bodies together slightly and biting your lip at the feeling of the coarse fabric of his shirt rubbing against the drenched thin fabric of yours, nipples already hard through the fabric of your blouse and chemise at the hint of gentle friction combined with the previous cold.

“Mm,” a throaty hum echoed the chuckle, and you did feel the vibrations that time, pressed deliciously against your sensitive nipples as you pressed your chest further against Arthur’s as his eyes snapped down towards yours, gaze darkening as he surely felt the peaks of your nipples through his own soaked shirt. “Mr. Miller, I believe this pretty girl may want the both of us.”

There was an answering hum somewhere nearby, closer than where you had seen Joel standing before, and your breathing picked up a bit faster than before, chest continuing to brush against Arthur’s with each inhale and exhale as you heard his friend reply in a delicious murmur of that heady drawl, “I think you’re right about that, partner.”

“That what you want, Miss?” Arthur asked, keeping your attention glued to him even as you heard Joel’s boots echo against the ground with each slow step towards you. “A couple bodies to keep you warm tonight? Keep the chill outta your bones?”

You nodded slowly, tongue slipping out between your lips to wet your mouth, heat pooling in your veins and starting to coil in your lower stomach as Arthur watched your tongue closely until it disappeared back inside your mouth, but still his gaze was fixed intently on your lips as you murmured, “I suppose I do.”

Your lips curled into an innocent smile then, a purposefully sharp contrast to the lewd words that slipped from your wet lips next, "Will you and your handsome friend keep me warm tonight, Mr. Morgan?"

“Well, if that’s really what you desire, miss…” Arthur’s large hand grazed against your waist, and you sucked in a breath, eyelids fluttering when the heat of his palm enveloped your hip, long fingers dragging along where the soaked fabric of your blouse tucked under the hem of your skirt. “Then we’d be more than happy to keep you warm.”

Arthur’s head ducked down, lips grazing against your ear as he whispered in a dark rasp that sent contrasting feelings through you, a shiver through your body and a heat that made your thighs clench together, “For your hospitality, of course.”

“Of course,” you murmured, licking your lips again as a soft sigh of anticipation left them when Arthur’s lips grazed across the shell of your ear down to the lobe, pulling it just between his lips, keeping it pressed between them before grazing his teeth against it, and your eyes finally moved over his shoulder to find where his friend had ended up.

Joel was closer now, a foot or two away, his gaze darkened with an unspeakable primal need as he watched Arthur’s hand shift from your hip to slide across your back, finding the small of it to tug you fully against him, and the gasp that left your mouth when you felt Arthur’s body pressed to yours made Joel stiffen, hazel eyes flaring with a desire that kept getting darker, as deep and sinful as yours while you smirked at him.

"I think your friend likes watching us, Mr. Morgan,” you whispered, lowering your head to hover your face over Arthur’s neck, mouth parting slightly to brush your plump lower lip across his pulse point, earning a delicious groan from the man that was echoed by a quieter one from Joel as he stared at the point where your lips met Arthur’s skin. “Should we give him a show?"

Your hand curled around Arthur’s neck as his head lifted, fingers drawing languid circles where your lips had just been, and you watched as he glanced back over his shoulder, following your line of sight to Joel, and you felt a rush of dampness between your thighs as Arthur winked at Joel while whispering to you, “I think you may be onto somethin’, darlin’.”

That was all you needed to hear, smirking up at Arthur as he turned back to you before pulling him down, your lips meeting his in a slow, sensual kiss that exuded temptation and seduction. Your fingers stroked up and down the strength of his neck, licking along his lips before slowly slipping your tongue into his mouth, dragging it along his own tongue, kissing him deeply with the electrifying weight of Joel’s gaze on you both as you locked into a heady, passionate embrace.

It was exhilarating, being caught up in the arms of this ruggedly handsome stranger, liplocked in a soul damning way with such a captivated audience. So distracted by the heat of the kiss, you didn’t hear the footsteps getting closer until another hand was on your waist, taking the spot where Arthur’s hand was just before.

You moaned into Arthur’s mouth when you felt the caress of more strong fingers on your hip before they grabbed you tighter, Joel urging you towards him for his own turn, and you pulled your mouth from Arthur, eyes half-lidded as you only gave yourself enough time to find where Joel was standing next to you before leaning up to him. 

Your lips met his now as you kissed Joel next, one hand still around Arthur's neck to feel the muscles tensing in it as your other hand went to wrap around the wet fabric of Joel’s shirt where it stuck to his collarbone, tugging him down further into the kiss that was just as hot and desperate as the one you shared with Arthur.

Now there was the intoxicating feeling of Arthur’s gaze on you as your tongue danced with Joel’s, the taste of both men mixing together on your lips. You moaned into Joel’s mouth this time when you felt Arthur’s hand slip down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful of soft flesh through your wet skirt and squeezing, your hips bucking up into Joel’s at the sensation.

“Needy little minx,” Arthur murmured as his fingers dug into your ass tighter, guiding your hips up to Joel’s again in a slow grind that pulled moans from both of your mouths, swallowed by one another as the kiss became even hotter, greedier as Joel’s palm found your other cheek, both men now lifting and pushing you up to grind against where Joel was hardening in his rain soaked pants.

When Arthur’s hand dropped from your rear, you almost whined from the loss of his touch until you felt the strong length of his body press up against your back, large hands on your hips to keep you between the two men. Arthur’s lips descended on your neck to lick along the length of it before softly biting down, pulling another moan from your mouth that Joel greedily swallowed before pulling back to suck on your bottom lip at the same moment Arthur wrapped his own lips around the skin he had just bit to suck a mark to form on you.

“Fuck,” you gasped when Joel’s lips released yours, letting your head fall back onto Arthur’s shoulder while he began to grind his hips into you from behind, matching the pace Joel had set grinding against your core.

You were near goddamn delirious from the feeling of being pressed between two clothed erections when Joel’s hand that was still squeezing your ass released it, his palm turning between your rear and Arthur’s hips pressed against it, and the answering grunt from Arthur that fell right against your ear let you know everything you needed to about what that hand was doing now.

“Christ, Joel,” Arthur's gruff voice grunted out against your ear, his lips finding the lobe to tug it between his teeth again while you felt him grind his hips against Joel’s palm, the faster pace of his bucking sending your own hips rocking against Joel’s faster, the three of you already deteriorating into moaning messes, finding a rhythm with each other that brought a build of equal pleasure, even with your drenched clothes still stuck to your skin.

As soon as the realization of still being completely dressed crossed your mind, your fingers were rising to the top of your blouse, trembling slightly from excitement as you began to unbutton it.

Your actions pulled a deep rumble of laughter from Joel’s chest, vibrating against your nipples that now only had the thin, transparent fabric of your chemise to cover them when you pulled your blouse out of the way, sending a delicious shockwave against you as you bucked your hips against his harder.

“Well, goddamn,” Joel rasped, his hand not trapped between your backside and Arthur’s rolling hips finding where your chemise was tucked into your skirt, quickly tugging the fabric out of the hem. "Look at you, pretty girl."

His palm slipped under the last layer of clothing to find your sternum, pressing flat against the exposed, damp skin. His long fingers began to trail up, tracing the curves of the undersides of your breasts as he murmured, “You’re just so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you? Desperate for us to ruin you together.”

Joel’s calloused palm slipped underneath one of your tits, cupping it gently as his thumb brushed against your hardened nipple, pulling a wanton whine from your throat, the sound pulling a devilish grin on his face. He repeated the stroke across your nipple a few more times before mumbling to the other man still behind you, “Take her other breast. Gotta warm her up before we have our way with her.”

“Yes sir,” Arthur submitted to the order immediately as Joel pushed your chemise above your breasts, bunching the fabric up in his large fist and ducking his head down to lap one of the sensitive buds into his hot mouth, and you gasped, body melting further back into Arthur’s while he lifted his own hand to completely envelop your other breast in his large palm.

The combination then of Joel’s tongue swirling around one of your nipples while Arthur rolled the other one between rough fingertips pulled the most sinfully desperate whimpers from your mouth, the dual stimulation on your breasts stoking the fire that was making your pussy pulse in time with your heartbeat until you were desperately trying to lift your leg around Joel’s waist to find more friction against his hips, whining again as the heavy fabric of your wet skirt got in the way.

“You need this off, sweet girl?” Arthur murmured against your ear, hot breath fanning against your face as he looked down at you, and you met his bright gaze to see it darkened with the most sinful desires, already nodding even as he continued to tease you, “You need some relief, don’t you? Need a release from that ache deep in your pretty little pussy.”

Joel groaned around the mouthful of your breast he had before detaching his lips from your nipple, a string of saliva stretching from it to his lips until it broke when his head lifted to look down at Arthur whispering his seduction to you.

“Mm, bet it’s such a pretty pussy,” Joel whispered, thumb stroking along your bottom lip, pulling it out to slip his thumb into your mouth as Arthur’s own thumb rubbed tight circles against your nipple, and you sucked Joel’s digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue against it in your haze of pleasure as he groaned to his friend, “Fuck, get her skirt off and take her to bed, Arthur. Need to see her all spread out for us.”

Arthur nodded, mumbling another “yes sir” as his hands moved to your waist, stepping back and gently tugging you with him, pushing the blouse off your arms, followed by your chemise over your head to be forgotten on the ground before your skirt quickly followed. 

You were left you in only your dainty drawers, the fabric already sticking to where it covered your wet core where Arthur’s hand slipped to cup your sex through the thin cloth, pulling a moan from your kiss swollen lips as his rough drawl rumbled into your ear while he tugged you back towards the bed, “We’re gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. Gonna take turns making you come until you can’t handle it no more.”

“Oh Lord, please,” you were mumbling as Arthur laid you back on the bed, eyes fixed on the way his rough fingers deftly popped open the button of his jeans, adjusting his pants to be more comfortable, his deep groan from the little bit of relief for his straining erection pulling a needy whine from your own throat.

“Don’t think He can hear you in here, miss,” Arthur mumbled as he slowly pulled off his suspenders and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the strong corded muscles in his arms before crawling onto the bed after you, hungry eyes following the rise and fall of your naked chest with each fast breath of anticipation you took. “Not over that storm keepin’ a couple dirty ol’ cowboys in with ya, and certainly not over all the moanin’ you’re ‘bout to make.”

His last few words fell between the valley of your breasts before his lips pressed there, leaving a searing hot path of desperate wet, open-mouthed kisses down it before licking a stripe back up, turning his head to lap up the breast Joel had just had in his mouth a moment before.

“Mm,” Arthur moaned around your nipple as he sucked it into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it and making your hips jerk up with a wanton moan, his chuckle sending vibrations and further pleasure up and down your spine before he pulled back to mumble, “Can taste you on her, Joel.”

“That so?” the other cowboy murmurs low, and you looked up through half-lidded eyes to see him approaching, shirt discarded to leave a toned chest and big arms that you were reaching out to touch, fingers deliriously swiping through the air for him as he chuckled at your reaction before leaning in closer, letting you have a touch when he came to stop beside your bed.

You couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if there really was room for both of these big, strong men in your small bed with you, or if it would be broken and you’d all be moaning messes still chasing all your pleasures on the floor before the night was through.

Your fingers found Joel’s chest, and you bit your lip at the feeling of those muscles bunching up under your hand, dragging your touch up and along his collarbone, over his shoulder and down his arm, squeezing his bicep with a gentle dig of your nails into his muscle, pulling a grunt from the man before he leans over to gently pull you up.

“Make room for me, sweetheart,” he huskily commands you in a surprisingly gentle whisper, and you do as he says, sitting up and scooting forward, forcing Arthur to pull off of your breast with a wet pop and a grunt, though he also moves back until Joel is able to slide in underneath your body, the two men carefully adjusting around you until you were all relatively comfortable, with your body soon pressed between theirs once again.

Joel’s fingers found your chin, gently grasping it to turn your face and direct it up so he could kiss you again, a bit slower this time, but just as deep, almost teasing with the glide of his tongue over your top and bottom lip, making obscenely wet circles on your mouth with his saliva before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, drinking in your moans as Arthur leaned back in to suck your other nipple into his mouth and give it the same treatment as the first.

“You think she’s wet yet, partner?” Joel asked as his lips pulled back from yours, running the slope of that scarred nose across your cheek in an almost tender action before glancing towards Arthur, who was now peppering kisses down your exposed stomach to the top of your drawers, nose pressing against the wet fabric covering your cunt, inhaling deeply with a groan before his tongue darted out to lick a stripe up the drenched cloth covering your entrance.

“Fuck, she’s soaked, Joel,” Arthur rasped, fingers curling underneath the banding of the fabric to pull it down enough to be out of the way, groaning when he saw how dripping you already were for them, rough digits finding your folds to gently spread you for him, breath fanning against your hot cunt as your hips jerked with a desperate whine.

“Good girl,” Joel was whispering into your ear as Arthur pulled your drawers down your legs, and you swear you saw him ball them up and tuck them in the back of his faded jeans, but you were too distracted by his large palms enveloping your thighs a moment later, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head as Joel kept murmuring to you, “So ready for us, your pretty little pussy dripping and aching to be filled with us, hm? You just can’t wait for us to take our turns with you.”

Arthur’s palms find your inner thighs as Joel edges you on with his words, spreading you further apart for him as he scoots down the bed to settle between your thighs. His lips find your inner thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin there as Joel’s hand presses against your stomach, pulling you back against him further before slipping it down to run the rough pads of his fingers over your clit.

“Oh!” you gasp, trying to buck your hips up against his touch, but Arthur keeps you pinned to the mattress in between Joel’s strong thighs with his hands on your thighs, leaving you happily merciless to both men as they descend upon your pussy to give you the greatest night of pleasure of your entire life.

Joel’s rubbing slow, tight circles on your clit, playing with that low simmering heat in your stomach, building it up at a leisurely pace as Arthur’s fingers drag across your folds, collecting your slick before parting them enough to begin to sink a finger into your tight heat.

“Patience, sweet girl,” Joel murmurs against your ear as you try and roll your hips to meet his fingers on your clit and Arthur’s moving in and out of your pussy when he slowly starts to add another, pulling another wanton gasp that nearly turns into a strangled cry from you at the sensation of thick, rough fingers from two men on your pussy. “We’re gonna give you what you need. We’re gonna give it to you so many times, you won’t even know who you’re begging for.”

A cry definitely did leave your swollen lips that time when you feel a hot tongue find its way between your folds, licking along your pussy before slowly sinking inside to replace Arthur’s fingers when he pulls them out. His hands move to cup underneath your thighs, directing your hips to roll right up into his mouth as he slowly fucks you with his tongue, Joel’s fingers moving in a way that he’s already learned makes you writhe the most, picking up the pace as the heat in your lower stomach coils tighter, faster, hotter.

Joel grabs your hair with his other hand, tugging you back so his lips can descend on your mouth again, sucking your moans into his mouth when you suddenly feel the loss of his fingers on your clit. You were about to start crying, not wanting your orgasm to fade out of reach when it had just been so close, when you felt a hot tongue replace it.

You gasp, lips pulling back from Joel to look down, seeing his fingers tangled in Arthur’s hair, shoving his friend’s face down against your pussy. Arthur’s fingers slip back inside your cunt, thrusting up into you quickly as his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it into his mouth as Joel keeps Arthur’s face pressed there with the hand grabbing his hair, and it only takes a few strokes of his tongue against your clit, flattening against the swollen bundle of nerves to rub against it quickly for you to be coming around his fingers.

“Fuck, look at that. So eager,” Arthur groans when he pulls his mouth back to give your clit a few more licks, watching greedily as you soak his fingers with your cum, continuing to thrust them into your pussy throughout your high with obscene, wet sounds each time they move in and out of your fluttering walls. “So fucking needy, coming for us so fast like that.”

“She wants a cock so bad, don’t you, baby?” Joel’s whispering in your ear, and you can feel his gaze on where Arthur keeps fingerfucking you, watching just as hotly, just as intensely as you soak his friend’s rough digits in your release, your thighs twitching from the aftershocks of the white hot orgasm. “Wants it so bad she needs two cowboys to fuck her so she’s truly satisfied.”

“More than happy to please ya, doll,” Arthur’s voice rumbles proudly from his chest as he finally slips his fingers out of your cunt, lifting them to his mouth to suck his soaked middle finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste before pulling it out and offering his index finger to Joel.

Your head falls back against Joel’s shoulder, glancing sideways with a whimper to watch Joel suck Arthur’s finger coated in your release into his mouth, beautiful hazel eyes fluttering shut with a moan around his friend’s rough digit. You watch Joel suck hard, hot desire coiling in your stomach again when Arthur grunts loudly at the sight and feeling.

When Arthur pulls his hand back, he reaches eagerly to his jeans, grabbing the waistband to tug it open further and push it down, working the damp fabric down over his strong thighs, and your lips part with need when you see his cock freed from its fabric constraints at last, tip leaking with precum, so big and ready to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight.

“Oh my god, yes,” you were murmuring deliriously as you watched Arthur reach down to stroke his cock, running his fingers covered in his and Joel’s saliva as well as your slick over it, spreading it along his twitching length before directing it to slide past your folds, notching the head against your entrance as you both began to breathe heavily at the imminent joining. “Please, please, pl—fuck!”

You cried out, back arching off of Joel’s chest before he quickly pulled you back against him, holding you steady as Arthur began to slowly sink into you with increasingly labored breaths, interspersed with long groans and raspy mumbles under his breath at how good you felt.

“I—oh, Christ, Joel. She’s so tight,” Arthur moaned as he continued to inch himself into you, stretching you out for what felt like forever, your pussy adjusting to his girth and length as you reached up to grab Arthur’s shoulders, digging your fingers into his shoulders for purchase and eliciting a louder grunt from the man filling you up.

“Gotta warm her up for me, partner. Stretch her pussy, make it fit.” Joel’s head ducks down next to your ear, lips brushing against it as his voice becomes softer when addressing you, a deep rumble shooting straight to your throbbing core while Arthur slowly fills it, gently encouraging you, “That’s it, take it, darlin’.” 

You moan at his seductive rasp right in your ears, leaning back further against his chest as your thighs parted further, accepting Arthur in further by reflex, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock inching into you while Joel whispered deliciously lewd things in your ear that would make even a whore blush.

“Yes, that’s it,” Joel sighed, his large palm finding one of your thighs to press you apart further, letting Arthur bottom out in you with a groan, nestled perfectly against your thighs, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and making your hips jerk up with a gasp. “Spread your legs for him, let him take you. Good girl.”

Lips parting, your head fell back onto Joel’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you moaned in time with Arthur when he pulled out a few inches to thrust back in, bottoming out once more before doing it all over again.

And again, again, again, the cowboy on top of you slowly thrusting into you with quiet grunts of exertion, filling you up over and over with small rotations of his hips in a way that felt deliberate, as if he was carefully following Joel’s orders to stretch out every inch of your tight cunt completely in preparation for his friend’s cock after he had had his turn with you.

The thought of there being even more to come after this made you moan again, your hips rolling up to meet Arthur’s thrusts as they became quicker at your movements, his own strong hips punching forward to fuck into you hard enough to steal the breath from your lungs each time. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him down further until the three of you were a moaning heap on your bed, Arthur fucking into you with earnest desperation as you could both feel Joel’s hot gaze narrowed in on where his friend’s cock filled you over and over with each strong thrust.

“God, look at you…the way you fill her up, fuck, Arthur. Seeing your big cock in that pretty little pussy…” Joel moaned, burying his face in your neck as his hips begin to roll up into you from behind, clothed erection pressing to your ass as he begins to grind against you, watching Arthur thrust into you with heavy lidded eyes to find the same rhythm that Arthur was fucking you with.

Arthur fucking whimpered at the praise, his lips finding your shoulder to start kissing, biting and sucking at the soft skin there, moans muffled against your skin as he bottomed out again to grind his pelvis against you, creating delicious friction in your clit combined with his cock twitching impossibly deep inside of you. Joel kept rutting against you from behind, his hand reaching around to thread through Arthur’s hair as both men moaned from the feeling of you stuffed in between them, the three of you using each other for hot, unspeakable pleasure.

“You want our cum, sweetheart? Want both of us to pump you full until you’re fucking stuffed?” Joel rasped into your ear as Arthur bucked into you with louder moans that felt hot against your skin, and you gasped, nodding desperately at the thought of being completely ravaged by both men, claimed by them both in the most primal, depraved way. You didn’t care about the consequences, you needed it. “You’ll have us dripping down your legs for days, that pussy is gonna remember our cocks when we’re gone. Won’t even know who's the daddy if we get you knocked up.”

The orgasm came suddenly at those filthy words, gripping your body and causing it to writhe between the men, pressed between the two broad bodies as you cried out their names one after another, your own climax immediately pulling Arthur into his own.

He tumbled into ecstasy after you, crushing you with his weight as he grunted and groaned into your ear with each pulse of his cock inside of you, filling you with his spend as your thighs twitched in time with his, your orgasms prolonged by the feeling of the other wrapped up in carnal bliss with you.

Joel was murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for how good you took it, how beautiful you look filled up with Arthur’s cum as his hand loosened in Arthur’s hair, stroking through the strands in a soothing manner as he took the time to also assure his friend that he was doing just as good as you, filling you up so well, that you both looked so pretty coming together.

After a moment to catch his breath, Arthur pulled his face up from your shoulder, skin flushed from the exertion of fucking you as he leaned down to press a few chaste kisses to your lips while he slowly slipped out of you, pulling your combined release with him. It trailed down your thighs, and Joel swiped his fingers along it, coating it along the puffy lips of your already thoroughly fucked pussy in the same moment Arthur also collected your slick and his cum from your other thigh.

“Lemme see your cock, Joel,” he grunted, and Joel’s head tilted back against the headboard of your bed with a moan, shifting underneath you to pull his jeans enough to free his own cock, and you gasped at the feeling of its hot, throbbing thickness pressed against your back before he slid it down between your folds, and Arthur gently took it in hand to cover it in his and your release.

“Mm, fuck,” Joel groaned, his hands finding your hips to rest your pussy against the head of his cock now, lips finding your ear to whisper in a deep rasp, “You ready for me next, darlin’?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, and something about the phrase must have set him off, because Joel plunged into you in one stroke with a loud grunt, easing in completely with no resistance from all the preparation they had given you and Arthur’s cum still coating your walls.

“Christ, you should see how you look right now,” Arthur groaned as he kept your thighs apart this time, watching Joel fuck up into you, hardly taking any time before setting a fast and brutal pace, and you were sure Arthur must have quite the view indeed. 

Your eyes were wide and glazed over as they met his, teary from multiple orgasms as your breasts bounced freely from Joel’s rough thrusts up into you, his cock filling you again and again so easily with Arthur’s cum still dripping from you.

As much as you wanted to keep watching the lingering heat in Arthur’s eyes as he watched Joel fuck you, the sensation of being this stuffed was too much, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned back into Joel’s strong embrace as he just kept fucking you faster and faster, the bed creaking, headboard smacking against the wall of your cabin with each intense thrust.

“Just like that, good girl, fuck. So tight, keep doing that, ohh, Jesus…” Joel was gasping and grunting now as he fucked up into you from behind, arms circling around your front to grab you and press you back into him, and the feeling was already almost too much, only becoming more overwhelming when you felt a tongue find its way between your thighs.

“A-Arthur,” you moaned, mouth falling open as you felt the other cowboy kissing his way up your cum-slicked thighs to your clit, licking over it before sucking it into his mouth, and you cried out, body trying to thrash from reflex from being so completely surrounded by pleasure, but Joel was holding you tight to him as he bucked up into you mercilessly. “Joel…Arthur…ahh, fuck…”

You hardly registered another impending orgasm, not understanding how your body could take even more, but the walls of your pussy were starting to tighten anyway, Joel whimpering into your ear at the feeling of it.

“Oh fuck, ‘m not gonna last if you keep clenching around me like that darlin,’” Joel moaned into your ear, his hips rolling unevenly, thrusts sloppier as he panted the words, “Arthur, I’m ‘bout to cum. Gonna fill her up, stuff this pretty little pussy even more.”

“Do it, Joel,” Arthur rasped as he pulled back from your clit to place his hand there to keep stimulating you, his other hand shifting from where he was keeping your thighs apart to grab onto Joel’s thigh as they began to twitch, digging his dull fingernails against the tough skin of his friend’s muscular leg, causing Joel to buck up hard into you with a loud grunt. “Cum in her for me. For both of us.”

“I—Arthur—” Joel was trying to say something but utterly failing, yours and Arthur’s names falling from his lips in broken, stuttered moans as he grabbed your hips tightly, pulling them back against his hard enough to bruise as he snapped up into you, head falling back against the headboard with a groan as he came hard, filling you up to the brim just like his friend told him to until you were overflowing, three combined releases leaking from your stuffed pussy to coat his cock, stomach and your thighs.

You felt his release coating your walls as they fluttered around him, and your own head tilted back as well, trapped between Joel’s bucking hips as he came and Arthur’s fingers still working at you, no thoughts running through your mind other than the fact that you were now filled with the cum of both these strong, rugged men, and your mouth opened in a silent cry as another orgasm washed over you so completely that you think you blacked out for a few seconds.

When you came back to, your vision was blurry, blinking stars away from your eyes as you focused on the handsome face above you, Arthur gazing down at you with a faint hint of concern as his rough hand caressed your cheek.

“You okay there, darlin’?” he murmured, thumb stroking along your cheekbone as you met the surprising softness of his gaze, and you nodded slowly, a lazy grin forming on your lips as you felt Joel slip out of you, letting all the cum seep back out of your pussy onto the mattress.

A sigh slipped from your lips as you sank back into Joel’s chest as his hands rested gently on your thighs, his own calloused thumbs rubbing circles on your soft skin while Arthur ducked down to place his lips over yours in a kiss more gentle than any you had shared so far.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered through a soft exhale that you sucked into your own lungs through the kiss, his low rasp of praise making you feel all warm inside after how hard they had worked you, pleased with yourself that you had made them both feel as good as they made you feel. “Sweet, sweet gal. You did so well for us.”

“Mm, that’s right,” Joel murmured into your hair, nuzzling his face into your neck as you and Arthur kissed languidly. “What a perfect, pretty little thing we’ve found out in these woods. Gonna be hard not to keep you all to ourselves, ma’am.”

You laughed softly at that, humming into Arthur’s gentle kisses as Joel peppered his own soft kisses up and down your neck and to your shoulder. Somehow, you didn’t mind the thought of them keeping you to them that much. In fact, you quite enjoyed the idea of being their girl, the thought of them continuing to share you was…exhilarating.

Arthur pulled back from you, shifting to push himself off the bed, tucking himself away and doing his pants back up as you frowned, not even realizing how tired you were until you slurred out a quiet, “Where you goin’, mister?”

The cowboy laughed, a gentle, low chuckle that rumbled from that broad chest as he smiled back at you before moving over towards where you kept your wash basin.

“We wouldn’t be such upstanding gentlemen if we didn’t clean you up afterwards, would we?” he teased with a wink, and you bit your swollen lips, giggling as you turned yourself around, chest pressed to Joel’s to see he had his own little smile while he gazed at you.

You took your time kissing Joel then, making soft, content noises into his own swollen lips, wrapping yourself up in him in a languid, content way until Arthur returned and gently pulled you back to lay on the bed.

There was a moment of relief from not being pressed to Joel anymore, your sore muscles sinking into the mattress as Arthur set about wiping you down carefully with the wet cloth. Joel’s fingers would follow in the path of damp skin left by the rag, long fingers tracing and gently caressing you, soothing any marks either men left on you and laughing when Arthur would grumble in gruff annoyance that his friend was getting in the way of his work cleaning you up.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you knew that both men were still with you when you did. 

When you woke up, however, neither was anywhere to be seen, and you lifted your head from your pillows, glancing around the empty room with a growing frown.

If it wasn’t for the deep ache in your bones, the way you were naked underneath a blanket and the large dried cum stains still on the mattress underneath you, you would have thought the whole thing was some wild, feverish wet dream.

You stared at the blanket that slipped off you as you moved, a small smile curling on your lips as you realized one of the men must’ve laid it on you, even as both were now nowhere to be seen. The smile quickly faded as you lingered on that last thought, sighing as you struggled to push yourself up, your muscles exhausted and not working quite properly after the night before.

While you were in the midst of trying to sit on the edge of your bed, the door to your cabin opened, and your brain didn’t even have time to begin to panic about your vulnerable state as you quickly recognized the frame of who was standing in the doorway.

“Mornin’, sweet thing,” Arthur greeted you with a sly half-grin, and you found a smile tugging back onto your lips, a rush of what almost felt like giddiness at seeing him the morning after filling you as he strode into the room.

That was when the rich scent of a dark roast hit you, and you were already nearly moaning from the smell of the coffee before the rugged cowboy passed the tin cup to you.

“Joel’s not a fan of sharing his coffee but, well,” he shrugged, leaning back to hook a hand on his belt buckle, leaning back casually with a small smile as he glanced over you inhaling the steam before taking a sip. “Figured it was the least we could after working you so hard last night.”

“You say that like I didn’t want it,” you teased, both of you knowing that you were the one who had wanted it the most, the mischief twinkling in Arthur’s eyes—eyes that you were just now really looking at, finding yourself caught between calling them blue or green, but they were shockingly stunning nonetheless—matching your own as his gaze moved back down your body, lingering on your naked breasts, perky in the air with how the blanket had fallen to your waist.

“Oh, we know how badly you wanted it, sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his bottom lip slowly, and despite being so sore you were nearly in pain, you couldn’t help but lean forward, longing to know what other ways he and his friend could have you.

But then Arthur was leaning back, tearing his gaze from you as he reached up to adjust his hat, tugging the brim down to cover his eyes.

“I deeply apologize for having to run out on you like this ma’am, but…” he sighed heavily, boot scuffing as he tapped the toe against the ground a couple times, and you were surprised to see the man you had only seen as self-assured so far seeming suddenly…awkward? Or maybe ashamed? “We actually were on a job, and have a lot of catching up to do ‘cause of that storm.”

“Oh,” you said softly, giving a nod, because you did understand. This entire encounter had been a strange fever dream, but it only made sense that they had to get back to their lives, as you had to get back to yours. “‘Course. I understand, Mr. Morgan. I wish you both safe travels.”

“Mhm,” Arthur hummed, giving a nod as he shifted back, leaning back on his heels with the brim of his hat still covering most of his face with the way his head was turned down.

Both his hands had moved to his hips, and he stared at the ground for a moment, his silence pulling a frown on your face as you opened your mouth to speak before thinking, “Arthur—”

Before you could even blink, he was in front of you, leaning down with those rough palms grasping your face, pulling you up into a bruising kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

You moaned into it, mind spinning from the sheer intensity of it as your lips locked, Arthur’s head turning to kiss you deeper, thick fingers slipping up into your hair as he swallowed your small, needy sounds of passion.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, sighing softly as he murmured your name, pulling your own sigh from you as you whispered his own name back to him before he pulled himself away.

“Hard to leave you, miss,” he said slowly, not hiding his face under his hat this time as he moved away, letting you see the conflict flash across his features as he pulled himself away from you. “And damn impossible to forget.”

You laughed, lifting a hand to try and cover the stupid little satisfied smile on your swollen lips, watching as Arthur leaned back out the door and barked out, “Hey, asshole! Say goodbye to the lady.”

“I’m going to,” the other deep voice responded in blatant irritation, and you tried to smother your giggle with your hand, but Arthur still glanced back at you, catching the sound and giving you a cheeky little wink in response before he was gone.

You had sipped a bit more coffee, gathering enough strength to finally stand, even as your knees were wobbly while you set about gathering your discarded clothes from the floor around the bed.

The sound of the door opening back up didn’t escape your attention, but you didn’t look over yet. Instead, a wicked smile grew on your face as you bent over to pick up your blouse, wiggling your ass for your other visitor, the smile only growing as you heard the quiet growl followed by a light smack to your left cheek in response to your teasing when he approached you.

“Little vixen,” Joel murmured as he took your elbow and pulled you up to face him, your chest colliding with his as his arms wrapped around your still naked form, holding you tight as his lips met yours much in the same way Arthur’s just did—hot, passionate, with a need that still lingered even after the wild night the three of you had shared.

You smiled up at him when you parted, pulling your blouse on, pleasantly surprised when Joel’s fingers found the hem of the cotton, thick fingers deftly buttoning up the shirt with quick precision.

“Mm, you do this often, Mr. Miller?” you purred, arching an eyebrow as you glanced over his face, liking the way the scar on his nose looked when his face pinched together slightly with amusement at your teasing. “Dressing up the girls after you ruin them for any men other than you and your handsome friend?”

His eyes met yours then, and even with the sly smirk curling up one half of his mouth, there was almost an uncertainty in that gaze, just a hint of that same self-conscious look you had seen from his friend moments before.

“You really gonna remember us after we’re gone, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he finished buttoning up your blouse, fingers curling around the collar and brushing against the soft skin of your neck as he leaned down closer to you, his hot breath mingling with yours, the smell of coffee on it invading your senses. “You gonna pine after the dirty old cowboys who found their way into your bed for a wild, stormy night?”

A soft laugh left your parted lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, stomach flipping slightly at the choice of words as you shrugged a shoulder.

“Perhaps I will, sir,” you whisper, letting your lips graze against each other with each word you spoke without pressing them together fully, teasing a final kiss without making the move to seal it, knowing he’d be off to god knows where afterwards, probably to never see you again. “It’s not often you meet a couple of big bad men who know how to be perfect gentlemen.”

Joel paused, face pulling back from you slightly to gaze down at you with a frown at your adept observation.

“Bad—” he cut himself off, brows furrowed as his eyes darted over your face, seeming to struggle to find the right words before he finally came right out and asked, “How did you—”

“I’m not holed up in this cabin all the time, Joel Miller,” you said softly, trying not to spook him as your fingers danced along the beard on his chin, a bit longer than his friend’s, and you were glad you were successful in softening the blow of your revelation when he sank into your touch. “Your faces were familiar, but I recognized your friend’s name when he gave it. The Van der Linde gang aren’t exactly subtle.”

Joel sighed, shaking his head to himself as he mumbled something under his breath you didn’t catch, but his gaze returned to yours as he asked with an arch of his brow, “And that didn’t scare you away?”

You shrugged, a wicked grin crossing your face as your fingers ran through his hair, mentally tucking away his quiet grunt of pleasure from the feeling as you whispered, “Well, I have always wanted to fuck an outlaw.”

A laugh left Joel’s lips then, loud and genuinely amused, followed by a look of surprise on his own face after he made it.

You were curious as to why he was so surprised at his own laughter, but you didn’t want to waste another moment, leaning forward to capture his lips in yours in another kiss that went from hot and fast to something slower, tender almost, the feeling of his lips against yours lingering even after he pulled away.

When he did tear himself away from you, he did it with a smirk that lit a fire in your soul, one you didn’t think would ever burn out while he replied in a sly, almost smug voice, “Or two.”

Your own smirk matched his as you grazed your fingers across the scar on the bridge of his nose, then down his face before you pulled back to let him leave, though not without your own final say of, “Well, I guess there was room for three after all.”

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers

[rutschsblog]

room for three

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader x arthur morgan

Summary: When Joel and Arthur get caught in a storm and need a place to stay, they weren't expecting to find you—a temptress who offers them shelter in your cabin, and wants nothing more than for the two rugged cowboys to keep you warm.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Smut MDNI Porn With Minimal Plot, Threesome (MFM, some MMF dynamics), oral (f receiving), v fingering, unprotected p in v, the boys take turns with you, multiple creampie, cumplay/eating, so much dirty talk, praise kink, ma'am/sir kinks, brief breeding kink. Red Dead universe, Cowboy!Joel. Lowkey getting throuple vibes so...we'll see if there's more parts to come.

Wordcount: 10.3k

A/N: thank you @joelsversion you made my brain rot just from mentioning joel x reader x arthur, this one is for YOU!!! And ty for being the devil on my shoulder for it and letting me spam you with snippets and thoughts in DMs hehehe ILY! also ty @cupofjoel for being another pair of eyes on it and giving me feedback & encouragement I needed!

When Joel teamed up on hunting down a bounty with Arthur, this was not how he expected it to go.

Halfway to the town where their target was last spotted, they’d taken a break from riding right as the sky opened up above their heads and a light drizzle started. Joel had gestured up towards the dark, angry clouds, insisting that they should ride harder to get to town before a storm started, but Arthur had brushed off his concerns, insisting that they’d be fine finding a place to hole up for the time being.

Then they were trekking through a more densely wooded area as the rain began to fall harder, the only thing stopping them from being completely soaked was the thick branches above their heads, leaves protecting them from being drenched as much as the hats on their heads.

Joel was letting out unhappy grunts every now and then as they continued to walk, searching for some cover with no avail, and Arthur groaned, tilting his head back to roll his eyes before glancing at his friend.

“Quit your moaning, will ya?” Arthur grumbled, and Joel’s eyes narrowed, shooting an irritated glare towards the man leading the way across the wet forest floor.

“Not moaning,” Joel muttered, the whole situation only reminding him why he was a lone wolf, and avoided every invitation extended to join the Van der Linde gang like it was the plague. Arthur was the only person he’d ever consider teaming up with, and only ever temporarily.

But now he was wishing he wouldn’t even do that, aching for a glass of whiskey and the conversation of Ellie, the little spitfire outlaw girl he’d recently taken under his wing back in the town they had just rode out from.

“Shoulda kept riding,” Joel mumbled, and Arthur’s head sharply turned so he could glare back over his shoulder at the comment.

“Well, not much to do about that now, is there?” Arthur shot back, the two men continuing to glare at each for a moment before Joel broke the gaze, shifting his glare out at the trees all around them while the rain continued to fall harder, and Arthur sighed. “Just keep looking, alright? There’s gotta be some cover ‘round here.”

A few more minutes of trekking that got increasingly more difficult turned up nothing, until the rustling of branches off to the side caught the attention of both men, who each whirled around quickly towards the sound, unhampered by their wet clothes as hands flew to revolvers in their respective holsters.

And that was when you appeared.

You were a pretty little thing, something that Joel was too embarrassed to ever admit was the first thing he noticed about you—which, in retrospect, was a very tame thought considering what was in store for the three of you that night.

A simple blouse and lightweight skirt clung to your frame due to the rain that had steadily begun to pour, a hunting rifle held steady in your grasp, though you weren’t pointing it at either of the outlaws. Instead it was pointed casually towards the ground, clearly intended to be used for hunting animals and not men, but the way your fingers twitched and tightened around the gun let both men know that you wouldn’t hesitate to aim it at either one if they reached fully for their own weapons.

Arthur was the first to slowly drop his hand, his silent show of meaning no harm no surprise to Joel—his friend had always had a soft spot for a pretty face, going so far as to make a fool of himself for a lady on more than one occasion (even if most of the time that was for just one lady).

Joel’s fingers hovered in the air around his revolver for a few moments longer, but as your eyes—sharp, calculating as they flickered between both men to gauge their intentions—followed Arthur’s hands as he raised them in the air to further show he had no ill will, your grip relaxed on your rifle, stance relaxing from its tensed position to draw if needed, and Joel finally let his hand fall back to his side as well.

“Howdy, Miss,” Arthur was also the first to speak in this odd situation they had found themselves in, facing the sudden appearance of a woman in these goddamned woods Arthur had gotten them trapped in, his hand coming up to tilt the brim of his drenched hat towards you in greeting as the rain beat on all your forms.

“Howdy there, cowboys,” you replied, leaning back slightly as your face relaxed from the sound of the man’s low rasp, glancing between both of the strange men a few more times before settling on the other one who hadn’t spoken yet.

“Evenin’,” Joel muttered, giving you a slight nod, revealing another deep timbre rumbling from an equally broad chest, and you looked back and forth between both men again.

Slowly, a brightness entered your eyes, joining that sharpness to create a gaze as enticing as the tiny smirk that curled onto full lips as you asked slowly, evenly, as if trying not to spook a horse or perhaps testing the waters, "And what are you two gentlemen doing out here all on your lonesomes?"

Arthur’s hands moved slowly then, trying equally as much not to spook you with any sudden movements as he rested them on his hips, adopting a more casual stance even as the rain continued to fall around you while he replied, “Got caught out in this frightful weather, I’m ‘fraid. Just lookin’ for somewhere warm and safe ‘till it passes over.”

"Oh?" you arched an eyebrow, that smirk twitching up to spread those pretty lips just a bit wider, before glancing back further in the woods. "Lucky for you. I got a cabin a little ways away, if y'all need a place to dry off and warm up.”

When you looked back at them, there was a mischievous twinkle in your eye now, your smirk shifting into something knowing, something that caused a flame to lick inside of Joel’s veins that he was fairly certain shouldn’t be there, but it was stoked higher as you added, “It's small, though. Hope there’s room for three.”

And then there was a wink from you after those words—a tiny, inconsequential thing. Could have meant anything.

But it sealed the fate for the three of you that night, and looking back at it now, Joel thinks you all knew it at that moment.

Something in the humid air shifted, a charge like that before thunder striking sparking to life between each of you, an addicting magnetism as Joel glanced towards Arthur from the corner of his eye, hoping to find something grounding in the man to deter his quickly wandering thoughts at that comment.

But just one look at his friend showed that he was probably far worse off than Joel. A smirk was slowly curling up half of Arthur’s lips as he gazed at you, thumbs moving to hook on his belt as he shifted back on his feet before turning his head slightly to meet Joel’s gaze.

The bastard must have seen what Joel was thinking just from that shared look, as Arthur’s smirk twitched into a dangerously wicked grin, one he quickly tried to cover up by rubbing a large hand over his chin, covering up his mouth with his palm to compose himself before glancing back towards you.

“That’d be mighty kind of you, miss,” Arthur drawled, giving you a deep nod to show that he did mean the words, even as the hints of that wickedness didn’t completely disappear from his face when his hand dropped. Though the grin had melted back into a tiny knowing smirk as he met your own mischievous gaze straight-on. “We’d both be nothin’ but a couple of fools to deny such hospitality right about now.”

“I believe you would be,” you replied easily, and Joel suspected both he and Arthur knew they were in for it when your eyes were just as knowing, smirk just as wicked while you turned to begin to head through the trees, gesturing with a nod of your head for them to follow as you introduced yourself.

“Arthur Morgan,” the outlaw introduced himself, still taking the lead in this conversation as he walked after you first, and Joel followed, helpless but to follow this tantalizing force of gravity, the growing tension in the air that was just as heavy as the storm that was brewing while they followed you to your home that you were offering to them for shelter. “This is my friend, Joel Miller.”

“Friend’s a strong word,” Joel spoke up finally for the second time since meeting you, and he was surprised by the bright laughter that left your lips to echo through the air towards where they were dutifully following behind you, sending a tingle down Joel’s spine, his gaze straying down your drenched form and locking in on the way your hips swayed while you expertly led the way through the forest.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintances, gentlemen," you said, your entire presence one of casual confidence, though there was something almost...seductive, some hidden innuendo in the way you called them gentlemen.

Like you knew they weren’t.

Like you knew exactly what they were thinking.

And when you shot another smirk back over your shoulder when the three of you broke through a clearing, a small cabin plainly in view—Joel realized that you weren’t just aware of the energy shift between you three, but that you were feeding it.

"Well?” you said with a sigh once you reached the door, tugging it open and offering the tempting promise of not being pelted by rain, and something even more satisfying when you shot them both a considerably suggestive smile. “Coming?”

Arthur’s hand found his face again, long fingers stroking across his chin as he glanced from you to Joel, that wicked smile dancing across his lips again, and heat coursed through Joel at the sight of his friend’s knowing grin, one that he felt himself slowly returning.

"Don't mind if I do,” Arthur murmured, keeping his gaze locked with Joel for just a moment longer, something unspoken passing between the two, the same way they always communicated before Arthur followed you into the one-room residence, and Joel followed, the two men allowing themselves to be swept up in the heat of your not so subtle flirtation, and whatever was to follow.

You closed the door behind the two men after they entered, leaving the three of you very much alone until the worst of the storm had passed.

Glancing back between the two broad-shouldered, rough and tough cowboys in your small home, you couldn’t help but hope that the storm would last all night.

"Thank you greatly for the kindness, ma’am,” said the more talkative one—Arthur Morgan, he had introduced himself, the man holding a tad more amiability than his friend, but just as equally rugged as his more silent, surly companion.

Were you a fool for inviting these two total strangers in like this? 

Oh, absolutely.

Did you care when they were both taking turns not so subtly looking at you like you were the sweetest thing they’d seen in weeks, and they were nothing but a couple of starving men dying for just a taste?

Not a bit.

"But of course," you smiled at them both as they found spots in the center of the small cabin, being so kind as to set their weapons down on the tiny table you used for dining, still exchanging little knowing looks here and there that sent your pulse racing, head swimming with dark desire. "Couldn't leave two cowboys out in the woods when there's a storm brewin’."

You moved towards your quaint dining table to rest your own hunting rifle there—and if the path you took led you to brush your shoulder across Arthur’s sinfully broad chest, so be it.

The quiet, sharp intake of breath from the man as you grazed him was a very, very good sign, and you smirked to yourself as you peeled your jacket from the rest of your wet clothes, draping the clothing over the back of a chair before turning back to face the two.

Perhaps you were the lucky one.

“Now, gentlemen,” you started with a sigh, pushing your wet hair over to one shoulder, revealing the slope of your neck and the rain drops lingering on the skin there, your blood running hotter when the attention of both men snapped right to it at the movement. “There’s plenty of ways to warm up from the chill. I could get a fire going for y’all, if you please.”

There was another smile slowly slipping onto Arthur’s lips, and your heart was racing now, pounding in your chest as your eyes lingered on how surprisingly soft those lips looked before glancing over to his friend.

Joel’s eyebrow arched, his gaze dragging down how the layers of your clothes clung to your skin, openly appreciating the way it accentuated your curves as his low voice caressed your ears with a leading, “Or…?”

You smirked, glad he had taken the bait, and you kept your gaze locked with Joel’s when he looked back up at your face, even as you took a step closer to his friend while you repeated, “Or…”

Your footsteps stopped in front of the other man, chests brushing dangerously close as you pulled your eyes away from Joel to look up at Arthur, raising your own eyebrow as you took the opportunity to give an appreciative glance over the way his clothes stuck to his strong frame as you whispered huskily, “We could always see if there is room for three.”

With a tilt of your head to the side, you let Arthur’s gaze slip past over your shoulder to the small bed in the corner of the room, referencing your same sentiment you had alluded to with a wink earlier, your intentions then perfectly clear now with your sultry words.

A low rasp of a chuckle emitted from Arthur’s chest, and you could almost feel the vibrations of the sound with how close your chest was to his, and you found yourself leaning in closer, brushing your bodies together slightly and biting your lip at the feeling of the coarse fabric of his shirt rubbing against the drenched thin fabric of yours, nipples already hard through the fabric of your blouse and chemise at the hint of gentle friction combined with the previous cold.

“Mm,” a throaty hum echoed the chuckle, and you did feel the vibrations that time, pressed deliciously against your sensitive nipples as you pressed your chest further against Arthur’s as his eyes snapped down towards yours, gaze darkening as he surely felt the peaks of your nipples through his own soaked shirt. “Mr. Miller, I believe this pretty girl may want the both of us.”

There was an answering hum somewhere nearby, closer than where you had seen Joel standing before, and your breathing picked up a bit faster than before, chest continuing to brush against Arthur’s with each inhale and exhale as you heard his friend reply in a delicious murmur of that heady drawl, “I think you’re right about that, partner.”

“That what you want, Miss?” Arthur asked, keeping your attention glued to him even as you heard Joel’s boots echo against the ground with each slow step towards you. “A couple bodies to keep you warm tonight? Keep the chill outta your bones?”

You nodded slowly, tongue slipping out between your lips to wet your mouth, heat pooling in your veins and starting to coil in your lower stomach as Arthur watched your tongue closely until it disappeared back inside your mouth, but still his gaze was fixed intently on your lips as you murmured, “I suppose I do.”

Your lips curled into an innocent smile then, a purposefully sharp contrast to the lewd words that slipped from your wet lips next, "Will you and your handsome friend keep me warm tonight, Mr. Morgan?"

“Well, if that’s really what you desire, miss…” Arthur’s large hand grazed against your waist, and you sucked in a breath, eyelids fluttering when the heat of his palm enveloped your hip, long fingers dragging along where the soaked fabric of your blouse tucked under the hem of your skirt. “Then we’d be more than happy to keep you warm.”

Arthur’s head ducked down, lips grazing against your ear as he whispered in a dark rasp that sent contrasting feelings through you, a shiver through your body and a heat that made your thighs clench together, “For your hospitality, of course.”

“Of course,” you murmured, licking your lips again as a soft sigh of anticipation left them when Arthur’s lips grazed across the shell of your ear down to the lobe, pulling it just between his lips, keeping it pressed between them before grazing his teeth against it, and your eyes finally moved over his shoulder to find where his friend had ended up.

Joel was closer now, a foot or two away, his gaze darkened with an unspeakable primal need as he watched Arthur’s hand shift from your hip to slide across your back, finding the small of it to tug you fully against him, and the gasp that left your mouth when you felt Arthur’s body pressed to yours made Joel stiffen, hazel eyes flaring with a desire that kept getting darker, as deep and sinful as yours while you smirked at him.

"I think your friend likes watching us, Mr. Morgan,” you whispered, lowering your head to hover your face over Arthur’s neck, mouth parting slightly to brush your plump lower lip across his pulse point, earning a delicious groan from the man that was echoed by a quieter one from Joel as he stared at the point where your lips met Arthur’s skin. “Should we give him a show?"

Your hand curled around Arthur’s neck as his head lifted, fingers drawing languid circles where your lips had just been, and you watched as he glanced back over his shoulder, following your line of sight to Joel, and you felt a rush of dampness between your thighs as Arthur winked at Joel while whispering to you, “I think you may be onto somethin’, darlin’.”

That was all you needed to hear, smirking up at Arthur as he turned back to you before pulling him down, your lips meeting his in a slow, sensual kiss that exuded temptation and seduction. Your fingers stroked up and down the strength of his neck, licking along his lips before slowly slipping your tongue into his mouth, dragging it along his own tongue, kissing him deeply with the electrifying weight of Joel’s gaze on you both as you locked into a heady, passionate embrace.

It was exhilarating, being caught up in the arms of this ruggedly handsome stranger, liplocked in a soul damning way with such a captivated audience. So distracted by the heat of the kiss, you didn’t hear the footsteps getting closer until another hand was on your waist, taking the spot where Arthur’s hand was just before.

You moaned into Arthur’s mouth when you felt the caress of more strong fingers on your hip before they grabbed you tighter, Joel urging you towards him for his own turn, and you pulled your mouth from Arthur, eyes half-lidded as you only gave yourself enough time to find where Joel was standing next to you before leaning up to him. 

Your lips met his now as you kissed Joel next, one hand still around Arthur's neck to feel the muscles tensing in it as your other hand went to wrap around the wet fabric of Joel’s shirt where it stuck to his collarbone, tugging him down further into the kiss that was just as hot and desperate as the one you shared with Arthur.

Now there was the intoxicating feeling of Arthur’s gaze on you as your tongue danced with Joel’s, the taste of both men mixing together on your lips. You moaned into Joel’s mouth this time when you felt Arthur’s hand slip down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful of soft flesh through your wet skirt and squeezing, your hips bucking up into Joel’s at the sensation.

“Needy little minx,” Arthur murmured as his fingers dug into your ass tighter, guiding your hips up to Joel’s again in a slow grind that pulled moans from both of your mouths, swallowed by one another as the kiss became even hotter, greedier as Joel’s palm found your other cheek, both men now lifting and pushing you up to grind against where Joel was hardening in his rain soaked pants.

When Arthur’s hand dropped from your rear, you almost whined from the loss of his touch until you felt the strong length of his body press up against your back, large hands on your hips to keep you between the two men. Arthur’s lips descended on your neck to lick along the length of it before softly biting down, pulling another moan from your mouth that Joel greedily swallowed before pulling back to suck on your bottom lip at the same moment Arthur wrapped his own lips around the skin he had just bit to suck a mark to form on you.

“Fuck,” you gasped when Joel’s lips released yours, letting your head fall back onto Arthur’s shoulder while he began to grind his hips into you from behind, matching the pace Joel had set grinding against your core.

You were near goddamn delirious from the feeling of being pressed between two clothed erections when Joel’s hand that was still squeezing your ass released it, his palm turning between your rear and Arthur’s hips pressed against it, and the answering grunt from Arthur that fell right against your ear let you know everything you needed to about what that hand was doing now.

“Christ, Joel,” Arthur's gruff voice grunted out against your ear, his lips finding the lobe to tug it between his teeth again while you felt him grind his hips against Joel’s palm, the faster pace of his bucking sending your own hips rocking against Joel’s faster, the three of you already deteriorating into moaning messes, finding a rhythm with each other that brought a build of equal pleasure, even with your drenched clothes still stuck to your skin.

As soon as the realization of still being completely dressed crossed your mind, your fingers were rising to the top of your blouse, trembling slightly from excitement as you began to unbutton it.

Your actions pulled a deep rumble of laughter from Joel’s chest, vibrating against your nipples that now only had the thin, transparent fabric of your chemise to cover them when you pulled your blouse out of the way, sending a delicious shockwave against you as you bucked your hips against his harder.

“Well, goddamn,” Joel rasped, his hand not trapped between your backside and Arthur’s rolling hips finding where your chemise was tucked into your skirt, quickly tugging the fabric out of the hem. "Look at you, pretty girl."

His palm slipped under the last layer of clothing to find your sternum, pressing flat against the exposed, damp skin. His long fingers began to trail up, tracing the curves of the undersides of your breasts as he murmured, “You’re just so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you? Desperate for us to ruin you together.”

Joel’s calloused palm slipped underneath one of your tits, cupping it gently as his thumb brushed against your hardened nipple, pulling a wanton whine from your throat, the sound pulling a devilish grin on his face. He repeated the stroke across your nipple a few more times before mumbling to the other man still behind you, “Take her other breast. Gotta warm her up before we have our way with her.”

“Yes sir,” Arthur submitted to the order immediately as Joel pushed your chemise above your breasts, bunching the fabric up in his large fist and ducking his head down to lap one of the sensitive buds into his hot mouth, and you gasped, body melting further back into Arthur’s while he lifted his own hand to completely envelop your other breast in his large palm.

The combination then of Joel’s tongue swirling around one of your nipples while Arthur rolled the other one between rough fingertips pulled the most sinfully desperate whimpers from your mouth, the dual stimulation on your breasts stoking the fire that was making your pussy pulse in time with your heartbeat until you were desperately trying to lift your leg around Joel’s waist to find more friction against his hips, whining again as the heavy fabric of your wet skirt got in the way.

“You need this off, sweet girl?” Arthur murmured against your ear, hot breath fanning against your face as he looked down at you, and you met his bright gaze to see it darkened with the most sinful desires, already nodding even as he continued to tease you, “You need some relief, don’t you? Need a release from that ache deep in your pretty little pussy.”

Joel groaned around the mouthful of your breast he had before detaching his lips from your nipple, a string of saliva stretching from it to his lips until it broke when his head lifted to look down at Arthur whispering his seduction to you.

“Mm, bet it’s such a pretty pussy,” Joel whispered, thumb stroking along your bottom lip, pulling it out to slip his thumb into your mouth as Arthur’s own thumb rubbed tight circles against your nipple, and you sucked Joel’s digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue against it in your haze of pleasure as he groaned to his friend, “Fuck, get her skirt off and take her to bed, Arthur. Need to see her all spread out for us.”

Arthur nodded, mumbling another “yes sir” as his hands moved to your waist, stepping back and gently tugging you with him, pushing the blouse off your arms, followed by your chemise over your head to be forgotten on the ground before your skirt quickly followed. 

You were left you in only your dainty drawers, the fabric already sticking to where it covered your wet core where Arthur’s hand slipped to cup your sex through the thin cloth, pulling a moan from your kiss swollen lips as his rough drawl rumbled into your ear while he tugged you back towards the bed, “We’re gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. Gonna take turns making you come until you can’t handle it no more.”

“Oh Lord, please,” you were mumbling as Arthur laid you back on the bed, eyes fixed on the way his rough fingers deftly popped open the button of his jeans, adjusting his pants to be more comfortable, his deep groan from the little bit of relief for his straining erection pulling a needy whine from your own throat.

“Don’t think He can hear you in here, miss,” Arthur mumbled as he slowly pulled off his suspenders and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the strong corded muscles in his arms before crawling onto the bed after you, hungry eyes following the rise and fall of your naked chest with each fast breath of anticipation you took. “Not over that storm keepin’ a couple dirty ol’ cowboys in with ya, and certainly not over all the moanin’ you’re ‘bout to make.”

His last few words fell between the valley of your breasts before his lips pressed there, leaving a searing hot path of desperate wet, open-mouthed kisses down it before licking a stripe back up, turning his head to lap up the breast Joel had just had in his mouth a moment before.

“Mm,” Arthur moaned around your nipple as he sucked it into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it and making your hips jerk up with a wanton moan, his chuckle sending vibrations and further pleasure up and down your spine before he pulled back to mumble, “Can taste you on her, Joel.”

“That so?” the other cowboy murmurs low, and you looked up through half-lidded eyes to see him approaching, shirt discarded to leave a toned chest and big arms that you were reaching out to touch, fingers deliriously swiping through the air for him as he chuckled at your reaction before leaning in closer, letting you have a touch when he came to stop beside your bed.

You couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if there really was room for both of these big, strong men in your small bed with you, or if it would be broken and you’d all be moaning messes still chasing all your pleasures on the floor before the night was through.

Your fingers found Joel’s chest, and you bit your lip at the feeling of those muscles bunching up under your hand, dragging your touch up and along his collarbone, over his shoulder and down his arm, squeezing his bicep with a gentle dig of your nails into his muscle, pulling a grunt from the man before he leans over to gently pull you up.

“Make room for me, sweetheart,” he huskily commands you in a surprisingly gentle whisper, and you do as he says, sitting up and scooting forward, forcing Arthur to pull off of your breast with a wet pop and a grunt, though he also moves back until Joel is able to slide in underneath your body, the two men carefully adjusting around you until you were all relatively comfortable, with your body soon pressed between theirs once again.

Joel’s fingers found your chin, gently grasping it to turn your face and direct it up so he could kiss you again, a bit slower this time, but just as deep, almost teasing with the glide of his tongue over your top and bottom lip, making obscenely wet circles on your mouth with his saliva before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, drinking in your moans as Arthur leaned back in to suck your other nipple into his mouth and give it the same treatment as the first.

“You think she’s wet yet, partner?” Joel asked as his lips pulled back from yours, running the slope of that scarred nose across your cheek in an almost tender action before glancing towards Arthur, who was now peppering kisses down your exposed stomach to the top of your drawers, nose pressing against the wet fabric covering your cunt, inhaling deeply with a groan before his tongue darted out to lick a stripe up the drenched cloth covering your entrance.

“Fuck, she’s soaked, Joel,” Arthur rasped, fingers curling underneath the banding of the fabric to pull it down enough to be out of the way, groaning when he saw how dripping you already were for them, rough digits finding your folds to gently spread you for him, breath fanning against your hot cunt as your hips jerked with a desperate whine.

“Good girl,” Joel was whispering into your ear as Arthur pulled your drawers down your legs, and you swear you saw him ball them up and tuck them in the back of his faded jeans, but you were too distracted by his large palms enveloping your thighs a moment later, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head as Joel kept murmuring to you, “So ready for us, your pretty little pussy dripping and aching to be filled with us, hm? You just can’t wait for us to take our turns with you.”

Arthur’s palms find your inner thighs as Joel edges you on with his words, spreading you further apart for him as he scoots down the bed to settle between your thighs. His lips find your inner thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin there as Joel’s hand presses against your stomach, pulling you back against him further before slipping it down to run the rough pads of his fingers over your clit.

“Oh!” you gasp, trying to buck your hips up against his touch, but Arthur keeps you pinned to the mattress in between Joel’s strong thighs with his hands on your thighs, leaving you happily merciless to both men as they descend upon your pussy to give you the greatest night of pleasure of your entire life.

Joel’s rubbing slow, tight circles on your clit, playing with that low simmering heat in your stomach, building it up at a leisurely pace as Arthur’s fingers drag across your folds, collecting your slick before parting them enough to begin to sink a finger into your tight heat.

“Patience, sweet girl,” Joel murmurs against your ear as you try and roll your hips to meet his fingers on your clit and Arthur’s moving in and out of your pussy when he slowly starts to add another, pulling another wanton gasp that nearly turns into a strangled cry from you at the sensation of thick, rough fingers from two men on your pussy. “We’re gonna give you what you need. We’re gonna give it to you so many times, you won’t even know who you’re begging for.”

A cry definitely did leave your swollen lips that time when you feel a hot tongue find its way between your folds, licking along your pussy before slowly sinking inside to replace Arthur’s fingers when he pulls them out. His hands move to cup underneath your thighs, directing your hips to roll right up into his mouth as he slowly fucks you with his tongue, Joel’s fingers moving in a way that he’s already learned makes you writhe the most, picking up the pace as the heat in your lower stomach coils tighter, faster, hotter.

Joel grabs your hair with his other hand, tugging you back so his lips can descend on your mouth again, sucking your moans into his mouth when you suddenly feel the loss of his fingers on your clit. You were about to start crying, not wanting your orgasm to fade out of reach when it had just been so close, when you felt a hot tongue replace it.

You gasp, lips pulling back from Joel to look down, seeing his fingers tangled in Arthur’s hair, shoving his friend’s face down against your pussy. Arthur’s fingers slip back inside your cunt, thrusting up into you quickly as his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it into his mouth as Joel keeps Arthur’s face pressed there with the hand grabbing his hair, and it only takes a few strokes of his tongue against your clit, flattening against the swollen bundle of nerves to rub against it quickly for you to be coming around his fingers.

“Fuck, look at that. So eager,” Arthur groans when he pulls his mouth back to give your clit a few more licks, watching greedily as you soak his fingers with your cum, continuing to thrust them into your pussy throughout your high with obscene, wet sounds each time they move in and out of your fluttering walls. “So fucking needy, coming for us so fast like that.”

“She wants a cock so bad, don’t you, baby?” Joel’s whispering in your ear, and you can feel his gaze on where Arthur keeps fingerfucking you, watching just as hotly, just as intensely as you soak his friend’s rough digits in your release, your thighs twitching from the aftershocks of the white hot orgasm. “Wants it so bad she needs two cowboys to fuck her so she’s truly satisfied.”

“More than happy to please ya, doll,” Arthur’s voice rumbles proudly from his chest as he finally slips his fingers out of your cunt, lifting them to his mouth to suck his soaked middle finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste before pulling it out and offering his index finger to Joel.

Your head falls back against Joel’s shoulder, glancing sideways with a whimper to watch Joel suck Arthur’s finger coated in your release into his mouth, beautiful hazel eyes fluttering shut with a moan around his friend’s rough digit. You watch Joel suck hard, hot desire coiling in your stomach again when Arthur grunts loudly at the sight and feeling.

When Arthur pulls his hand back, he reaches eagerly to his jeans, grabbing the waistband to tug it open further and push it down, working the damp fabric down over his strong thighs, and your lips part with need when you see his cock freed from its fabric constraints at last, tip leaking with precum, so big and ready to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight.

“Oh my god, yes,” you were murmuring deliriously as you watched Arthur reach down to stroke his cock, running his fingers covered in his and Joel’s saliva as well as your slick over it, spreading it along his twitching length before directing it to slide past your folds, notching the head against your entrance as you both began to breathe heavily at the imminent joining. “Please, please, pl—fuck!”

You cried out, back arching off of Joel’s chest before he quickly pulled you back against him, holding you steady as Arthur began to slowly sink into you with increasingly labored breaths, interspersed with long groans and raspy mumbles under his breath at how good you felt.

“I—oh, Christ, Joel. She’s so tight,” Arthur moaned as he continued to inch himself into you, stretching you out for what felt like forever, your pussy adjusting to his girth and length as you reached up to grab Arthur’s shoulders, digging your fingers into his shoulders for purchase and eliciting a louder grunt from the man filling you up.

“Gotta warm her up for me, partner. Stretch her pussy, make it fit.” Joel’s head ducks down next to your ear, lips brushing against it as his voice becomes softer when addressing you, a deep rumble shooting straight to your throbbing core while Arthur slowly fills it, gently encouraging you, “That’s it, take it, darlin’.” 

You moan at his seductive rasp right in your ears, leaning back further against his chest as your thighs parted further, accepting Arthur in further by reflex, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock inching into you while Joel whispered deliciously lewd things in your ear that would make even a whore blush.

“Yes, that’s it,” Joel sighed, his large palm finding one of your thighs to press you apart further, letting Arthur bottom out in you with a groan, nestled perfectly against your thighs, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and making your hips jerk up with a gasp. “Spread your legs for him, let him take you. Good girl.”

Lips parting, your head fell back onto Joel’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you moaned in time with Arthur when he pulled out a few inches to thrust back in, bottoming out once more before doing it all over again.

And again, again, again, the cowboy on top of you slowly thrusting into you with quiet grunts of exertion, filling you up over and over with small rotations of his hips in a way that felt deliberate, as if he was carefully following Joel’s orders to stretch out every inch of your tight cunt completely in preparation for his friend’s cock after he had had his turn with you.

The thought of there being even more to come after this made you moan again, your hips rolling up to meet Arthur’s thrusts as they became quicker at your movements, his own strong hips punching forward to fuck into you hard enough to steal the breath from your lungs each time. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him down further until the three of you were a moaning heap on your bed, Arthur fucking into you with earnest desperation as you could both feel Joel’s hot gaze narrowed in on where his friend’s cock filled you over and over with each strong thrust.

“God, look at you…the way you fill her up, fuck, Arthur. Seeing your big cock in that pretty little pussy…” Joel moaned, burying his face in your neck as his hips begin to roll up into you from behind, clothed erection pressing to your ass as he begins to grind against you, watching Arthur thrust into you with heavy lidded eyes to find the same rhythm that Arthur was fucking you with.

Arthur fucking whimpered at the praise, his lips finding your shoulder to start kissing, biting and sucking at the soft skin there, moans muffled against your skin as he bottomed out again to grind his pelvis against you, creating delicious friction in your clit combined with his cock twitching impossibly deep inside of you. Joel kept rutting against you from behind, his hand reaching around to thread through Arthur’s hair as both men moaned from the feeling of you stuffed in between them, the three of you using each other for hot, unspeakable pleasure.

“You want our cum, sweetheart? Want both of us to pump you full until you’re fucking stuffed?” Joel rasped into your ear as Arthur bucked into you with louder moans that felt hot against your skin, and you gasped, nodding desperately at the thought of being completely ravaged by both men, claimed by them both in the most primal, depraved way. You didn’t care about the consequences, you needed it. “You’ll have us dripping down your legs for days, that pussy is gonna remember our cocks when we’re gone. Won’t even know who's the daddy if we get you knocked up.”

The orgasm came suddenly at those filthy words, gripping your body and causing it to writhe between the men, pressed between the two broad bodies as you cried out their names one after another, your own climax immediately pulling Arthur into his own.

He tumbled into ecstasy after you, crushing you with his weight as he grunted and groaned into your ear with each pulse of his cock inside of you, filling you with his spend as your thighs twitched in time with his, your orgasms prolonged by the feeling of the other wrapped up in carnal bliss with you.

Joel was murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for how good you took it, how beautiful you look filled up with Arthur’s cum as his hand loosened in Arthur’s hair, stroking through the strands in a soothing manner as he took the time to also assure his friend that he was doing just as good as you, filling you up so well, that you both looked so pretty coming together.

After a moment to catch his breath, Arthur pulled his face up from your shoulder, skin flushed from the exertion of fucking you as he leaned down to press a few chaste kisses to your lips while he slowly slipped out of you, pulling your combined release with him. It trailed down your thighs, and Joel swiped his fingers along it, coating it along the puffy lips of your already thoroughly fucked pussy in the same moment Arthur also collected your slick and his cum from your other thigh.

“Lemme see your cock, Joel,” he grunted, and Joel’s head tilted back against the headboard of your bed with a moan, shifting underneath you to pull his jeans enough to free his own cock, and you gasped at the feeling of its hot, throbbing thickness pressed against your back before he slid it down between your folds, and Arthur gently took it in hand to cover it in his and your release.

“Mm, fuck,” Joel groaned, his hands finding your hips to rest your pussy against the head of his cock now, lips finding your ear to whisper in a deep rasp, “You ready for me next, darlin’?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, and something about the phrase must have set him off, because Joel plunged into you in one stroke with a loud grunt, easing in completely with no resistance from all the preparation they had given you and Arthur’s cum still coating your walls.

“Christ, you should see how you look right now,” Arthur groaned as he kept your thighs apart this time, watching Joel fuck up into you, hardly taking any time before setting a fast and brutal pace, and you were sure Arthur must have quite the view indeed. 

Your eyes were wide and glazed over as they met his, teary from multiple orgasms as your breasts bounced freely from Joel’s rough thrusts up into you, his cock filling you again and again so easily with Arthur’s cum still dripping from you.

As much as you wanted to keep watching the lingering heat in Arthur’s eyes as he watched Joel fuck you, the sensation of being this stuffed was too much, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned back into Joel’s strong embrace as he just kept fucking you faster and faster, the bed creaking, headboard smacking against the wall of your cabin with each intense thrust.

“Just like that, good girl, fuck. So tight, keep doing that, ohh, Jesus…” Joel was gasping and grunting now as he fucked up into you from behind, arms circling around your front to grab you and press you back into him, and the feeling was already almost too much, only becoming more overwhelming when you felt a tongue find its way between your thighs.

“A-Arthur,” you moaned, mouth falling open as you felt the other cowboy kissing his way up your cum-slicked thighs to your clit, licking over it before sucking it into his mouth, and you cried out, body trying to thrash from reflex from being so completely surrounded by pleasure, but Joel was holding you tight to him as he bucked up into you mercilessly. “Joel…Arthur…ahh, fuck…”

You hardly registered another impending orgasm, not understanding how your body could take even more, but the walls of your pussy were starting to tighten anyway, Joel whimpering into your ear at the feeling of it.

“Oh fuck, ‘m not gonna last if you keep clenching around me like that darlin,’” Joel moaned into your ear, his hips rolling unevenly, thrusts sloppier as he panted the words, “Arthur, I’m ‘bout to cum. Gonna fill her up, stuff this pretty little pussy even more.”

“Do it, Joel,” Arthur rasped as he pulled back from your clit to place his hand there to keep stimulating you, his other hand shifting from where he was keeping your thighs apart to grab onto Joel’s thigh as they began to twitch, digging his dull fingernails against the tough skin of his friend’s muscular leg, causing Joel to buck up hard into you with a loud grunt. “Cum in her for me. For both of us.”

“I—Arthur—” Joel was trying to say something but utterly failing, yours and Arthur’s names falling from his lips in broken, stuttered moans as he grabbed your hips tightly, pulling them back against his hard enough to bruise as he snapped up into you, head falling back against the headboard with a groan as he came hard, filling you up to the brim just like his friend told him to until you were overflowing, three combined releases leaking from your stuffed pussy to coat his cock, stomach and your thighs.

You felt his release coating your walls as they fluttered around him, and your own head tilted back as well, trapped between Joel’s bucking hips as he came and Arthur’s fingers still working at you, no thoughts running through your mind other than the fact that you were now filled with the cum of both these strong, rugged men, and your mouth opened in a silent cry as another orgasm washed over you so completely that you think you blacked out for a few seconds.

When you came back to, your vision was blurry, blinking stars away from your eyes as you focused on the handsome face above you, Arthur gazing down at you with a faint hint of concern as his rough hand caressed your cheek.

“You okay there, darlin’?” he murmured, thumb stroking along your cheekbone as you met the surprising softness of his gaze, and you nodded slowly, a lazy grin forming on your lips as you felt Joel slip out of you, letting all the cum seep back out of your pussy onto the mattress.

A sigh slipped from your lips as you sank back into Joel’s chest as his hands rested gently on your thighs, his own calloused thumbs rubbing circles on your soft skin while Arthur ducked down to place his lips over yours in a kiss more gentle than any you had shared so far.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered through a soft exhale that you sucked into your own lungs through the kiss, his low rasp of praise making you feel all warm inside after how hard they had worked you, pleased with yourself that you had made them both feel as good as they made you feel. “Sweet, sweet gal. You did so well for us.”

“Mm, that’s right,” Joel murmured into your hair, nuzzling his face into your neck as you and Arthur kissed languidly. “What a perfect, pretty little thing we’ve found out in these woods. Gonna be hard not to keep you all to ourselves, ma’am.”

You laughed softly at that, humming into Arthur’s gentle kisses as Joel peppered his own soft kisses up and down your neck and to your shoulder. Somehow, you didn’t mind the thought of them keeping you to them that much. In fact, you quite enjoyed the idea of being their girl, the thought of them continuing to share you was…exhilarating.

Arthur pulled back from you, shifting to push himself off the bed, tucking himself away and doing his pants back up as you frowned, not even realizing how tired you were until you slurred out a quiet, “Where you goin’, mister?”

The cowboy laughed, a gentle, low chuckle that rumbled from that broad chest as he smiled back at you before moving over towards where you kept your wash basin.

“We wouldn’t be such upstanding gentlemen if we didn’t clean you up afterwards, would we?” he teased with a wink, and you bit your swollen lips, giggling as you turned yourself around, chest pressed to Joel’s to see he had his own little smile while he gazed at you.

You took your time kissing Joel then, making soft, content noises into his own swollen lips, wrapping yourself up in him in a languid, content way until Arthur returned and gently pulled you back to lay on the bed.

There was a moment of relief from not being pressed to Joel anymore, your sore muscles sinking into the mattress as Arthur set about wiping you down carefully with the wet cloth. Joel’s fingers would follow in the path of damp skin left by the rag, long fingers tracing and gently caressing you, soothing any marks either men left on you and laughing when Arthur would grumble in gruff annoyance that his friend was getting in the way of his work cleaning you up.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you knew that both men were still with you when you did. 

When you woke up, however, neither was anywhere to be seen, and you lifted your head from your pillows, glancing around the empty room with a growing frown.

If it wasn’t for the deep ache in your bones, the way you were naked underneath a blanket and the large dried cum stains still on the mattress underneath you, you would have thought the whole thing was some wild, feverish wet dream.

You stared at the blanket that slipped off you as you moved, a small smile curling on your lips as you realized one of the men must’ve laid it on you, even as both were now nowhere to be seen. The smile quickly faded as you lingered on that last thought, sighing as you struggled to push yourself up, your muscles exhausted and not working quite properly after the night before.

While you were in the midst of trying to sit on the edge of your bed, the door to your cabin opened, and your brain didn’t even have time to begin to panic about your vulnerable state as you quickly recognized the frame of who was standing in the doorway.

“Mornin’, sweet thing,” Arthur greeted you with a sly half-grin, and you found a smile tugging back onto your lips, a rush of what almost felt like giddiness at seeing him the morning after filling you as he strode into the room.

That was when the rich scent of a dark roast hit you, and you were already nearly moaning from the smell of the coffee before the rugged cowboy passed the tin cup to you.

“Joel’s not a fan of sharing his coffee but, well,” he shrugged, leaning back to hook a hand on his belt buckle, leaning back casually with a small smile as he glanced over you inhaling the steam before taking a sip. “Figured it was the least we could after working you so hard last night.”

“You say that like I didn’t want it,” you teased, both of you knowing that you were the one who had wanted it the most, the mischief twinkling in Arthur’s eyes—eyes that you were just now really looking at, finding yourself caught between calling them blue or green, but they were shockingly stunning nonetheless—matching your own as his gaze moved back down your body, lingering on your naked breasts, perky in the air with how the blanket had fallen to your waist.

“Oh, we know how badly you wanted it, sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his bottom lip slowly, and despite being so sore you were nearly in pain, you couldn’t help but lean forward, longing to know what other ways he and his friend could have you.

But then Arthur was leaning back, tearing his gaze from you as he reached up to adjust his hat, tugging the brim down to cover his eyes.

“I deeply apologize for having to run out on you like this ma’am, but…” he sighed heavily, boot scuffing as he tapped the toe against the ground a couple times, and you were surprised to see the man you had only seen as self-assured so far seeming suddenly…awkward? Or maybe ashamed? “We actually were on a job, and have a lot of catching up to do ‘cause of that storm.”

“Oh,” you said softly, giving a nod, because you did understand. This entire encounter had been a strange fever dream, but it only made sense that they had to get back to their lives, as you had to get back to yours. “‘Course. I understand, Mr. Morgan. I wish you both safe travels.”

“Mhm,” Arthur hummed, giving a nod as he shifted back, leaning back on his heels with the brim of his hat still covering most of his face with the way his head was turned down.

Both his hands had moved to his hips, and he stared at the ground for a moment, his silence pulling a frown on your face as you opened your mouth to speak before thinking, “Arthur—”

Before you could even blink, he was in front of you, leaning down with those rough palms grasping your face, pulling you up into a bruising kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

You moaned into it, mind spinning from the sheer intensity of it as your lips locked, Arthur’s head turning to kiss you deeper, thick fingers slipping up into your hair as he swallowed your small, needy sounds of passion.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, sighing softly as he murmured your name, pulling your own sigh from you as you whispered his own name back to him before he pulled himself away.

“Hard to leave you, miss,” he said slowly, not hiding his face under his hat this time as he moved away, letting you see the conflict flash across his features as he pulled himself away from you. “And damn impossible to forget.”

You laughed, lifting a hand to try and cover the stupid little satisfied smile on your swollen lips, watching as Arthur leaned back out the door and barked out, “Hey, asshole! Say goodbye to the lady.”

“I’m going to,” the other deep voice responded in blatant irritation, and you tried to smother your giggle with your hand, but Arthur still glanced back at you, catching the sound and giving you a cheeky little wink in response before he was gone.

You had sipped a bit more coffee, gathering enough strength to finally stand, even as your knees were wobbly while you set about gathering your discarded clothes from the floor around the bed.

The sound of the door opening back up didn’t escape your attention, but you didn’t look over yet. Instead, a wicked smile grew on your face as you bent over to pick up your blouse, wiggling your ass for your other visitor, the smile only growing as you heard the quiet growl followed by a light smack to your left cheek in response to your teasing when he approached you.

“Little vixen,” Joel murmured as he took your elbow and pulled you up to face him, your chest colliding with his as his arms wrapped around your still naked form, holding you tight as his lips met yours much in the same way Arthur’s just did—hot, passionate, with a need that still lingered even after the wild night the three of you had shared.

You smiled up at him when you parted, pulling your blouse on, pleasantly surprised when Joel’s fingers found the hem of the cotton, thick fingers deftly buttoning up the shirt with quick precision.

“Mm, you do this often, Mr. Miller?” you purred, arching an eyebrow as you glanced over his face, liking the way the scar on his nose looked when his face pinched together slightly with amusement at your teasing. “Dressing up the girls after you ruin them for any men other than you and your handsome friend?”

His eyes met yours then, and even with the sly smirk curling up one half of his mouth, there was almost an uncertainty in that gaze, just a hint of that same self-conscious look you had seen from his friend moments before.

“You really gonna remember us after we’re gone, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he finished buttoning up your blouse, fingers curling around the collar and brushing against the soft skin of your neck as he leaned down closer to you, his hot breath mingling with yours, the smell of coffee on it invading your senses. “You gonna pine after the dirty old cowboys who found their way into your bed for a wild, stormy night?”

A soft laugh left your parted lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, stomach flipping slightly at the choice of words as you shrugged a shoulder.

“Perhaps I will, sir,” you whisper, letting your lips graze against each other with each word you spoke without pressing them together fully, teasing a final kiss without making the move to seal it, knowing he’d be off to god knows where afterwards, probably to never see you again. “It’s not often you meet a couple of big bad men who know how to be perfect gentlemen.”

Joel paused, face pulling back from you slightly to gaze down at you with a frown at your adept observation.

“Bad—” he cut himself off, brows furrowed as his eyes darted over your face, seeming to struggle to find the right words before he finally came right out and asked, “How did you—”

“I’m not holed up in this cabin all the time, Joel Miller,” you said softly, trying not to spook him as your fingers danced along the beard on his chin, a bit longer than his friend’s, and you were glad you were successful in softening the blow of your revelation when he sank into your touch. “Your faces were familiar, but I recognized your friend’s name when he gave it. The Van der Linde gang aren’t exactly subtle.”

Joel sighed, shaking his head to himself as he mumbled something under his breath you didn’t catch, but his gaze returned to yours as he asked with an arch of his brow, “And that didn’t scare you away?”

You shrugged, a wicked grin crossing your face as your fingers ran through his hair, mentally tucking away his quiet grunt of pleasure from the feeling as you whispered, “Well, I have always wanted to fuck an outlaw.”

A laugh left Joel’s lips then, loud and genuinely amused, followed by a look of surprise on his own face after he made it.

You were curious as to why he was so surprised at his own laughter, but you didn’t want to waste another moment, leaning forward to capture his lips in yours in another kiss that went from hot and fast to something slower, tender almost, the feeling of his lips against yours lingering even after he pulled away.

When he did tear himself away from you, he did it with a smirk that lit a fire in your soul, one you didn’t think would ever burn out while he replied in a sly, almost smug voice, “Or two.”

Your own smirk matched his as you grazed your fingers across the scar on the bridge of his nose, then down his face before you pulled back to let him leave, though not without your own final say of, “Well, I guess there was room for three after all.”

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers

[rutschsblog]

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed&lt;;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

[rutschsblog]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[rutschsblog]

Chapter warnings: language, sexual situations, smut, blood and violence, angst, panic attacks

Chapter Nineteen

December 2004

The frigid winter snow whirled around you as you walked down the street, biting at your cheeks and nose as you made your way from Tommy's home to the greenhouse to start your shift. You shoved your gloved hands further into your coat pockets and tucked your chin into your chest, trying to prevent the icy snow from hitting your face. You knew the walk to the greenhouse like the back of your hand by now, relying on visual cues from the ground to keep you on track.

You were distracted with thoughts from earlier that morning, before Joel went off to work on construction of the wall around the new neighborhood. He started a few hours earlier than you, so he always tried his best to be as quiet as possible while he got ready, but you hadn't slept well last night, and you woke when you heard the shower turn off in the bathroom.

He had walked back into your room with only his jeans pulled on, unbuttoned and unzipped, with his hair slicked back. You could smell the soap on him from your spot on the bed as he rifled blindly through the closet to pick out a shirt. He twisted around when you reached up to flick the light on next to you.

"Shit, sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he said softly, turning back to the closet and giving you a view of his back muscles twitching under his beautiful, bronzed skin.

"Mmm, I'm not," you said as you leaned up in bed, your voice sultry and filled with sleep. He chuckled as he tugged a grey long sleeve thermal over his head. You swung your legs over the side of the mattress and padded over to him, wearing only an oversized t-shirt, your legs and feet bare. You wrapped your arms around his stomach from behind as he pulled a flannel from a hanger.

"Aren't you cold?" he murmured, trying to stay focused.

"A little," you admitted, running your hands lightly over his soft stomach, your fingers occasionally lifting the bottom of his shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought one large hand up to cover both of yours.

"Maybe you should go back to bed. Warm up. You got a few hours before work," he said, cursing himself for his morality.

"Maybe you should join me," you suggested timidly, and his breath caught in his throat. The past few weeks he had noticed you were becoming flirtier and more suggestive, but neither of you had yet to physically take things further. Almost every night he would wrap you in his arms, your tongues probing desperately in each other's mouths, but that was all. In a moment of weakness once or twice he had skirted his hand underneath your shirt to graze your nipple, but the sounds you made and the way you arched up into his palm made him pull back, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself if he continued.

“Sweetheart, I gotta get to work,” he told you gently, pulling your hands away from his stomach, but you let them fall to his hips instead, resting your head against his back. You could feel the vibrations of his voice against your cheek as he spoke. “It’d look bad for the boss to be late.”

You hummed as your hand shyly traveled down his hip to nudge at the hardness growing in his jeans. You could feel his body tense, waiting for your hand to shoot back to your side, but instead your fingers inched forward, tracing the outline of his cock through the denim. He let out a shaky breath when your hand fully covered his clothed length, his fist gripping the flannel still dangling at his side.

“Shit,” he whispered, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as your hand slowly ran up and down, lingering at the opening of his jeans. He could feel your hot breath through his shirt on his back, panting slightly in anticipation as you quickened the pace.

“Do you like that?” you whispered back, desperate to hear him. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes,” he muttered, taking his free hand from his side to brace against the wall. You smiled into his shirt, squeezing your thighs together, trying to find some friction for the ache that was building between your legs as your fingers reached the opening of his jeans and began to find their way to the flap of his boxers, but the hand holding his flannel jumped up to cover yours before you could find his skin.

“I-I don’t,” he stammered as he desperately tried to keep a clear head. “I mean, are you… fuck. You don’t have to –“

“Shh,” you said, and he sighed. “I want to. Please let me, Joel.” He thought about it for a minute before releasing your hand and letting his head fall forward to watch as your fingers reached through his boxers to pull out his cock, already leaking with precum. You wrapped your hand gently around him and slid your fist up, running your thumb over his slit to gather the wetness there and brought it back down. He dropped his flannel on the floor and braced both of his arms against the wall as he watched, slack jawed, while you pumped him up and down. You used slow, languid movements at first, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin in your palm, but you could tell from how tense his muscles were that he was desperate for release after so many months without your touch.

So, you flicked your wrist faster, deciding today was not the day to tease him. A groan bubbled up from his throat, his eyes glued to your hand as he began gasping for air.

“Shit, sweetheart, I ain’t gonna last long,” he croaked out, and you could already feel his stomach muscles tense against your arm. His hips thrusted weakly into your hand before an arm dropped and his hand gently grasped your wrist, guiding you up and down faster, showing you exactly what he liked, what he needed. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt his chest and neck grow flush.

"You gonna let go for me, baby?" you asked, mouth pressed against his back. He growled when he heard the term of endearment you reserved exclusively for moments like this.

"Yeah," he panted, "fuck, that feels so good."

It only took a few more strokes before he gasped, clenching his fist against the wall as he let out a strangled groan that vaguely resembled your name. You couldn't see, but you felt his hot spend painting your fist and dripping down your hand.

He stumbled forward, resting his forehead against the wall while you pulled your hand back and looked around, finding a washcloth Joel must have discarded when he entered the room. You offered it to him when you were done, and he weakly plucked it from your hand, turning around so his back was now leaning against the wall. He cleaned himself up and tossed it back on the pile of laundry, tucking his cock back into his jeans as he continued to catch his breath. He ran his fingers through his drying curls and looked you up and down, reaching out a hand for you to take before he pulled you against his heaving chest. You nuzzled into him before leaning back, intending to press a quick kiss against his lips, but instead his hands gripped the sides of your face, his heated gaze searching your eyes for something. You looked up at him longingly, then clutched his shirt in your hand and gave the material a tug, pulling him down to connect with his lips.

He began to walk you backwards towards the bed, your heart hammering in your chest as his tongue licked against your lips. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress and he gave you a gentle shove. You flopped backwards on top of the cool sheets, then he hooked his hands under your knees. You gasped as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. He bent down, about to fall to his knees before you when there was a soft knock on the door. You both froze, staring at one another until you heard a second knock. You could see the pain on his face when he realized it was Tommy, probably wondering why he was late, and trying not to wake you up.

"Go," you whispered, and he shook his head angrily. You gave him a stern look and lifted a foot from the ground to press into his chest and push him backwards. He fell back on his heels but then stood up quickly, bringing his mouth to hover over yours.

"Later," he promised, his eyes raking over your body once more before whipping around to snatch his flannel from the floor. You tucked yourself back into bed before the door quickly opened and shut behind him, leaving you all alone until later.

It was no wonder you weren't paying attention when you walked straight into someone on your way to work. You stumbled backwards in shock when a pair of strong arms reached out to steady you. You flinched at the contact, still not fully comfortable with it, but it was something you were actively working on overcoming, so you refrained from wriggling out of his grasp. You looked up to find a man you had never seen in Jackson before. It wasn't uncommon with the way the town was growing lately. He had dark brown wavy hair, with some stubble covering his chiseled jaw and full lips. Your eyes finally came up to meet his, a piercing blue.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you told him, and this time you did pull away, taking a few steps back to introduce yourself.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jake," he said, shaking your hand.

"Sorry, I don't remember meeting you before, are you new?" you asked sheepishly.

"Yes, actually, Maria and Tommy just brought me in today. Tommy found me out there in the cold, offered me a place to stay. I was supposed to find him after I grabbed something to eat, but to be perfectly honest, I'm a little lost. Can you point me in the direction of the stables?"

"Of course, follow me," you said, turning away from the greenhouse to lead him in Tommy's direction. "This snow's coming down so fast it's hard to see your own hand in front of your face."

Jake chuckled and shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

"Tell me about it. Couldn't believe my eyes when he rode up and found me out in the woods in this, like my own personal savior," he joked, falling in step next to you.

"Yeah, most of us feel like that about this place," you pointed when you saw the barn come into view through the snow. "Stables are right there." Jake turned to you and gave you a wide smile.

"Thank you so much for the help. I'll see you around," he said, giving you a friendly wave as he stomped through the snow towards the barn.

You turned to backtrack towards the greenhouse, your eyes naturally gravitating towards the end of the street where the new houses stood, all empty until construction on the wall was finished. You squinted to try to catch a glimpse of Joel, but the snow was so thick, you couldn't see a thing.

You swung the door to the greenhouse open and you were instantly hit with a familiar humid heat. You stripped off your outerwear and hung everything up on a hook by the door, glancing around at the rows and rows of plants in various stages of growth.

"Carrie?" you called out to your coworker, "I'm here, sorry I'm late!"

A young girl roughly the same age as you popped her head out from the office with a smile. She tossed her long, straight blonde hair over her shoulder as she rolled her desk chair out of the room to see you.

"No worries, that snow is really coming down out there," she said as you walked towards her down an aisle of medicinal herbs.

"It wasn't even the snow's fault. I ran into a new guy who was lost, I told him I would show him to the stables."

"Which new guy? Carl?" she asked, and you shook your head.

"No, a guy I haven't seen around before. Jake? Tommy found him in the woods this morning, apparently," you shrugged as you picked up a pair of gardening gloves and slid them on.

"Is he cute?" Carrie asked you excitedly, and you rolled your eyes. Carrie was sweet and fun, and she never seemed to let anything bring her down. It was refreshing, although at times you wondered how someone could be so upbeat living in this world.

"Actually... yes, he kind of is," and she squealed. You pointed your finger at her and gave her your most serious face. "Do NOT tell Joel I said that," you warned. She giggled and nodded, begging you for more details. You went about your daily routine of pruning and deadheading the plants while you described what he looked like as she hung on your every word.

"Maybe I'll see him tonight at dinner and I can introduce myself," she replied, unraveling a hose to water some vegetables.

"Mmm, good idea. I'm sure Maria will walk him around to meet everyone after we eat," you said, wiping at the beads of sweat forming at your brow.

"Oh, before I forget. Do you mind working solo tomorrow? Doc asked me to stop by in the morning to observe a prenatal exam on Kate." Carrie was in training to become a nurse. It was probably considered one of the most important jobs in Jackson. Maria was always concerned about there being enough medical staff in town, and Carrie was a quick learner.

"Of course, not a problem," you told her. "How far along is Kate now?"

Carrie went on to tell you all about everything about Kate and what she learned so far from Bill, the town's doctor. You guiltily tuned her out halfway through her ramblings about cervical dilation and let your thoughts wander back to Joel.

The two of you have been dancing around the elephant in the room for the past two months. At first, you were grateful he didn't want to take things further, content with being close to him and enjoying how intimate it felt to just kiss, with no expectation to have sex. Then, one night he got carried away and his rough fingers found their way up your sleep shirt, palming your breast with his big hand. You thought you would reject his touch, but to your surprise it never came. Something clicked in your brain that night that made you think you were finally ready. Maria told you once to listen to your body, and you did. You arched off the bed to chase his touch, moaning into his mouth. He quickly realized what he did and pulled his hand back, leaving you wanting more. It only happened a couple more times after that, and each time it had you craving his touch with a burning need.

Joel seemed content to just keep things the way they were, always worrying about pressuring you. You had been laying it on thick for the past couple weeks, trying to show him you were ready, that you wanted more, but he kept turning you down. Until this morning.

"Yoohoo, are you listening to me?" Carrie asked, waving her hand in front of your face. You blinked at her, trying to downplay the flush on your cheeks.

"Sorry, what did you say?" you said, genuinely apologetic.

"I said, did you notice Tommy and Maria were sitting together alone after dinner the other day having drinks? I think he finally got up the courage to ask her on a date."

You and Carrie giggled about Jackson's worst kept secret. The whole town could see how Tommy had puppy dog eyes for Maria. You had confronted her last week about the lack of progress in her love life, pointing out that as promised, Joel and Tommy taken some of the work off her plate, giving her more time for a personal life. After a few shots at the bar, she finally agreed that she would take Tommy up on his offer for a date.

The two of you spent the rest of the day gossiping and preparing for the next harvest until 5 o'clock finally rolled around and you eagerly stepped back out into the blustery cold, giving Carrie a quick wave goodbye. The snow had died down, but the wind was whipping up fallen snow from the ground, making visibility difficult as you walked back to Tommy's house. The anticipation of later had been eating at you all day, counting down the seconds until you finished work and could pick up where you left off this morning. Your pulse thudded in your throat when you saw fresh boot prints leading up to the front door. You hoped Joel called it quits early due to the bad weather.

You stomped the loose snow from your boots outside as you pushed the door open, quickly shutting it tight behind you. The warmth from the fireplace already melted the snow from your face as you shed your coat, hat, gloves and scarf. You wiped the wetness from your cheeks with the back of your hand. You were sliding your boots off when you heard men laughing from the direction of the kitchen table. Frowning, you poked your head around the corner. Tommy was the first to notice you, calling out your name and waving you over. Joel was sitting next to him, and a third man was sitting with his back to you.

Your eyes immediately met Joel's as you walked over to the table, taking in his heated stare the moment he realized you were home, but Tommy didn't pick up on the tension. Instead, he extended an arm out to the visitor and introduced you to him. The man turned around in his seat to greet you and you finally tore your eyes away from Joel.

"Jake?" you said, surprised. He broke out into a wide grin and gave you a friendly wave.

"Nice to see you again," he said warmly. Joel's jaw ticked to the side, on edge about the familiarity.

"You two already met?" Tommy asked, and you nodded, ignoring Joel's stare.

"Yeah, we ran into each other this morning," you said, and Jake laughed heartily at your words. You frowned, wondering what was so funny, until he explained.

"Literally, ran into each other," Jake explained, and you realized you had unintentionally made a joke and gave a polite chuckle. "I was lost trying to find the stables, she was kind enough to show me the way."

Joel visibly stiffened next to Jake now, and you suddenly wanted this interaction to end as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, the snow was bad this morning, could hardly see a thing," you said, daring a glance in Joel's direction now. You could swear his nostrils were flaring. You couldn't tell if it was the fire or his intense glare that was making you sweat.

"Well then, this makes things easier," Tommy said, leaning forward on the table. "Jake's gonna be staying in the spare room upstairs, across from you and Joel. 'Til we get the new neighborhood up and runnin'."

You thought you saw a flicker of something on Jake's face when Tommy mentioned you and Joel sharing a room, but he hid it well. Instead, he smiled at you both.

"I'm a neat roommate, I swear. You won't hear a peep out of me," he said, holding his hands in the air.

You mumbled something about welcoming him to the house and excused yourself to head upstairs, your head spinning. You weren't sure why you never thought about Tommy needing to lend his spare bedroom, but it made sense at the rate the town was growing. Of course the houses were maxed out.

Based on Joel's body language during the whole conversation, you weren't surprised in the least when he swung the bedroom door open less than ten minutes after you left, making sure to shut it firmly behind him. All day long you had been waiting to be alone with him, but the look in his eye right now made you believe the evening wasn't going in the direction you hoped.

"Hey there, 'pretty girl'," he said, but there was no affection in his tone. In fact, it almost sounded bitter to your ears. Your eyes darted around, confused.

"Hey?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

"'Pretty girl'," he repeated, taking a step closer. "He said he ran into a 'pretty girl' this mornin'. Guess now I know who." You could see his neck was red and he was clenching his jaw. Every part of you wanted to start a fight with him. You clearly did nothing wrong and you didn't deserve his attitude, but you had been aching for him all day and you didn't want to waste another second alone with him.

"Oh," you said quietly, your expression soft as you took a step towards him, holding his gaze. "You don't think I'm pretty?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. His eyes shifted around the room, not expecting your reaction.

"'Course I do, that's not what I said," he told you, straightening up and steeling his gaze.

"No, what you said was you 'didn't know who the pretty girl was he ran into this morning'. Who else did you think he ran into, then?" You took another step, now invading his personal space, and lifted your hands to rest on his chest.

"Maria?" you teased, pressing a kiss along his jaw. You felt a muscle jump there but otherwise he remained unaffected.

"Carrie?" you suggested again, turning your head to place another kiss on the other side of his jaw, and this time you saw him gulp.

"Maybe Pam, from the kitchen?" You dipped your head to suck on the side of his neck, but you barely made contact before he was lifting you up and tossing you on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you and covering your mouth with his, immediately flicking his tongue against your lips to delve deeper.

You moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you could, running your tongue alongside his as you explored his mouth, which tasted faintly like mint.

You ran your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp in the way he liked that made him groan. His hand reached down to grab your ass, making you squeal into his mouth. You had to break away to catch your breath, but he kept going, making a trail of kisses along your jaw, sucking harder than usual when he got to your neck, making you cry out softly a few times until he soothingly licked the spots he marked.

"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up to meet his.

"Hmm?" he said, nibbling at your collarbone.

"It's later," you reminded him, and you felt his body tense. He lifted himself off you and used his forearms to support himself on either side of your head as he gazed into your eyes.

"I need you to tell me exactly what you want, do you understand?" You nodded vigorously. "You need to be honest with me. Tell me what you're ready for, and what you ain't ready for, alright?" And again, you nodded, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," he whispered against your neck, and you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.

"Your mouth," you murmured, and he smirked at the blush that spread across your cheeks.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, the words stoking a fire within you. He made his way slowly down your body: nipping at your breasts through your shirt, running his nose down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and biting gently at the skin he revealed as he tugged them down until he pulled them from your ankles and tossed them on the floor. He hovered his mouth over your clothed cunt, his hot breath invading the thin fabric, making you writhe in anticipation.

He hooked his thumbs around the sides of your panties and barely gave them one small tug when, for the second time that day, Tommy interrupted you.

"Hey, Joel! Let's get a move on, dinner's served soon. Gotta bring Jake to meet everyone!" he yelled from downstairs. You groaned and threw an arm across your eyes, cursing Tommy over and over.

"What the fuck," you muttered, frustrated. Joel sighed.

"Comin'!" He shouted back, and you groaned.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you," he kissed the inside of your thigh and you whimpered, not sure how it would be possible to make it through another couple hours without his mouth on you.

The four of you and Maria sat around a table in the dining room listening to Jake tell the story of his experience during the outbreak. You thought you heard him mention he was from Seattle, but that was all you were able to absorb, your mind decidedly elsewhere.

You shifted in your chair, trying to distract yourself by glancing around the room. There were closer to 90 people who lived in Jackson now, and the dining hall was filled with their laughing and smiling faces. Carrie caught your eye from across the room. She pointed subtly towards Jake and mouthed the word 'hot', fanning herself while you stifled a giggle.

You felt Joel's thumb begin to rub a small circle on your back, his arm resting on the back of your chair. You had to keep yourself from leaning into him and burying your face in his neck, trying desperately to keep it together for just a little longer. As if he could sense your discomfort, he caught your eye when no one was paying attention and slowly ran his gaze up and down your body, making you shiver. He smirked, then casually lifted his glass to his lips, pretending to listen to Tommy while taking a slow sip. You watched his throat bob up and down and then he licked his lips, wiping away any remaining whiskey with his tongue.

Joel noticed your thighs squeezed together under the table as you tried to focus your attention back on the group, hoping the night would come to an early end. Maria was giggling at something Tommy said that you only half heard. Joel's effect on you had you feeling like you were drunk, but you hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all evening. Your gaze drifted around the table to find Jake looking at you, or more specifically, your neck. When he realized you caught him staring, he gave you a quick smile and turned his attention back on Maria. You subtly rubbed your neck, wondering what caught his attention when it hit you. Embarrassed, you pulled your hair over your shoulders to conceal the marks Joel left, but just as quickly as you did, Joel's fingers reached forward and flicked your hair back, exposing your neck again.

You turned to frown at him, but he was staring straight ahead, seemingly deeply engrossed with whatever Maria was saying until his eyes flicked to you and gave you a quick but firm shake of his head. He wanted everyone to see.

You couldn't take it anymore. You gave an exaggerated yawn before standing up from the table, drawing the attention of the group.

"I'm gonna head back, I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm wiped," you announced. Jake quickly stood up, pushing his chair back.

"I can walk you back, I've had quite the day myself," he said with a bright smile, but then just as quickly, Joel stood up, placing his hand on your lower back, and Jake's smile faltered.

"I got it. You should stay, mingle with some of the folks 'round here. They can give you the lay of the land." Joel said, unable to keep the frown from his face.

"Are you sure?" Jake asked, addressing you and only you. You nodded, not interested in whatever pissing match was developing between the two men.

"She's sure," Joel said lowly, almost like a growl, and you rolled your eyes at Maria, who muttered an "oh, brother," under her breath.

"Come on," you muttered, yanking Joel's arm away from the table and towards the door, leaving Jake to awkwardly sit back down, his eyes trailing after the two of you.

The cold night air took your breath away as you left the warmth of the Tipsy Bison, Joel's broad form following closely behind you.

"That was awkward," you murmured, burying your face in your scarf as you hurried down the street, eager to be alone with Joel and in the warmth of your bed.

"He's got a crush on you," he stated matter-of-factly, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, and he scoffed. "Is that why you left these marks on my neck?"

He stopped in his tracks suddenly, and you nearly slid on some ice trying to come to a quick stop, turning to face him. The glow of the string lights hanging over the street illuminated his face, which you realized for the first time looked distressed and frustrated.

"Are you ok?" you asked him, your brows scrunching up in concern. He took a couple steps forward to close the gap between you and reached out a hand to pull your chin up to him, pressing his lips firmly against yours before pulling back, still holding your chin in his fingers.

"I'm fine. Just don't like anyone touchin' what's mine, is all," he said simply, dropping your chin from his grasp and continued to march down the street towards Tommy's house, leaving you breathless and hurrying to catch up. Part of you wanted to chastise him for claiming ownership over you, but you knew he didn't mean it in a bad way. Besides, you did the same thing to him in front of Amy, blatantly marking your territory by hanging all over him.

You caught up with him and looped your arm through his, pulling yourself closer as you walked.

"I'm not really tired, you know," you said, looking up at him. He tried to hide the smile that threatened to spill across his face.

"Yeah, I know," he smirked, and you felt your stomach flip.

You stumbled into your bedroom, Joel's arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his mouth finding a permeant home on your neck and shoulder. You twisted around as he kicked the door shut behind you, pulling him up by the collar, your mouths colliding messily. You whimpered at the heat behind his touch and kiss, which only served to spur him on. You fumbled with the button and zipper of your jeans, your hands not cooperating, shaking from anticipation. He swatted your hands away before breaking the kiss and sliding down to his knees before you. He peered up at you through his eyelashes, his gaze heated, and his pupils blown wide with need. His lips were parted and already swollen, and you imagined yours probably looked the same. His hands rested on the waistband of your jeans, and you wondered what was taking him so long until you realized he was looking to you for permission. Even in his wrecked state, he still had the presence of mind to check with you, which made you want him even more. You nodded, your eyelids heavy. You swallowed nervously as you watched him undo your jeans and slowly pull them down your legs, his eyes never leaving your clothed heat, which just so happened to be at perfect eye level.

He pulled both legs of your pants off and tossed them into a corner of the room once again, this time determined to not have any disruptions. Still on his knees, he ran his hands slowly and deliberately up the backs of your calves to your knees, and then finally resting on the backs of your thighs, right below your ass. You squirmed, one of your hands resting on his shoulder and the other finding a familiar grasp in his hair. He squeezed the backs of your thighs gently, bringing you forward ever so slightly so he could run his nose up and down the front of your underwear, drawing a low moan from your throat.

"Joel," you whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut, desperate to feel him on you.

"Hmm?" he said, burying his nose against you and inhaling deeply, making you blush when you felt your wetness soaking through the fabric, no doubt making contact with his skin.

"Please," you whispered, and he instantly scooped you up, pinning you to his chest by your legs, making you gasp and scramble to steady yourself, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He took a few steps and deposited you unceremoniously onto the bed, your hair spread out around you like a halo. Your shirt had ridden up, exposing your stomach, and your legs were spread wide before him. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the dark spot of arousal leaking through the fabric, his cock twitching in his jeans.

"Tell me," he reminded you, his voice strained.

"Your mouth, Joel," you rasped, not caring how pathetic you sounded this time.

He cursed and his fingers hooked the sides of your panties, tugging them off quickly and pressing his palms against the inside of your thighs to rest them flat against the bed, exposing every inch of yourself to him. You gulped, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze. You wiggled a little under his hold, your fingers finding clumps of the bedsheets to grip at your sides when you felt his hot exhale fan over cunt.

"Remember, you need to talk to me, alright?" he murmured, nipping gently at your inner thigh. "You gotta tell me what you want, or if you're uncomfortable."

You nodded and sighed, lifting your hips off the mattress greedily.

"I will, I promise," you whispered, then gasped when his mouth finally made contact. His beard was prickly against your skin as his tongue scooped inside you to collect the wetness waiting for him.

You arched your back off the mattress, your head thrown back in a silent scream. He hummed against you, pressing his lips flush against your folds and swirling his tongue into your opening, drawing out a satisfied moan from your throat.

He continued to lick and swirl his tongue into you lazily, like he had all the time in the world. The scratchy facial hair above his lip kept grazing against your clit as his tongue continued to probe into you, making your walls clench over and over. Your whole body felt hot as you struggled to catch your breath, your heart slamming against your rib cage.

His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs and curled around so his palms could hold you open and still.

"Talk to me," he said, his voice muffled, his mouth was still pressed against your cunt.

"Good," you managed to choke out before taking a deeper breath, trying to clear your head so you could give him what he asked. "Really fucking good, Joel, fuck!" You gasped the last curse as his mouth finally traveled up to your swollen clit, flicking it with his tongue a few times before he sucked it into his mouth. Your vision was getting blurry, the sensation so intense it was causing tears to well up in your eyes. You blinked them away furiously so you could focus on Joel, wanting to commit the image of his head buried between your legs to memory, but one tear managed to escape down your cheek.

His gaze traveled up to your face at the exact moment you shed a tear, and he pulled back from you immediately. You let out a frustrated sob, your fingers gripping the sheets so hard you wondered if your nails would tear them. He brought himself up to hover over you on the bed, searching your eyes in a panic, but all you could focus on was his glistening mouth and the throbbing ache between your legs.

"What’d I do?" he asked, eyes widened in fear. You must have looked confused because he raised a hand to wipe away the tear from your cheek.

"Happy," you gasped out, "not sad, happy." And when he hesitated, you begged, "Please. I promise. You feel so good, please don't stop."

He seemed to believe you because he gave you a filthy smirk before finally descending back on your clit, picking up the same pace where he left off. You moaned softly as your hand drifted to the top of his head, tangling in his curls and bucking your hips up into his mouth. He groaned against you, the vibrations causing you to clench again around nothing. You could feel the pressure growing in your lower abdomen, but you were missing that full feeling inside that you needed to get you over the edge.

"Fingers," you managed to croak out, your head turned to the side, buried in the comforter. Joel slowed down upon hearing your request, feeling unsure. For the second time, he pulled back, eliciting a groan from you now.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently. He didn't want to throw cold water on the moment, but he was worried you weren't thinking it through. You turned your head and saw the concern behind his eyes, knowing full well he was thinking about what you went through the last time someone put their fingers inside you.

"Yes," you told him firmly. "I'm ready. I've given this a lot of thought, I swear."

He hesitated, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he brought his hand around to gently cup your inner thigh, stroking up and down your leg until you got used to his touch before he let his thumb swipe up through your folds, keeping his eyes glued to your face, making sure you didn't wince or shirk away before venturing further.

He placed his middle finger at your entrance and felt your walls clenching, trying to pull him in.

"Still ok?" he asked you with bated breath, and you nodded, spreading your legs further as he pushed his finger inside. He watched your back arch off the bed, your hands fisting the sheets next to you as you let out a whimper. He gave you a moment to adjust before slipping another finger inside and began to pump them in and out slowly, watching your reaction, his lips parted and his eyes blazing.

He could see the sheen of sweat covering your face in the moonlight, your eyes screwed shut as you parted your swollen lips, gasping with pleasure as the tension built back up inside you. He was so taken with watching you that you had to remind him again what you wanted.

"Joel," you whispered, "your mouth, please, I need - oh!" Your head tipped backwards again when his mouth enveloped your clit, alternating between sucking and swirling his tongue until he heard your breath stutter and felt your walls clench, warning him you were close. He flattened his tongue against your clit and rubbed it from side to side while he curled his fingers inside you to reach your sweet spot.

"Joel!" You cried out, not caring how loud you were or if anyone was home. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna... Don't stop, don't stop, don't -"

You broke your chant with a gasp when the wave of your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clenching around his head. He kept licking gently at your clit and slowed his thrusts as he felt you come down from your high, trying to prolong it as long as possible.

When he felt your body collapse under him, weak and satiated, he finally removed his fingers, giving your thighs small kisses that he trailed over your hips and up to your ribs, taking special care to kiss the pink scars there before he settled onto the bed beside you, listening to you catch your breath.

A few minutes later you heard the water turn on in the bathroom in the hall.

"Shit," you murmured sleepily, rolling onto your side so you could wrap your leg and arm around him. "They're home."

"Good," he smirked, and you looked up at him in the dark curiously, his eyes closed. "I want that punk to hear whose name you're screamin'."

You leaned up on your elbow to look down at him.

"So you did make those marks on purpose," you said, and he shrugged.

"Told you. Don't like anyone touchin' what's mine." He opened his eyes and looked at you, his gaze dark and burning.

"Where's this coming from?" you asked softly, your fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged and stretched his arm out to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you back down to lay on his chest.

"Don't know. Somethin' about the way he looks at you just... bothers me, I guess."

"I think he's just being friendly," you told him, and he scoffed. "He knows we share a room. I think he can connect the dots."

"Well, if he didn't before, he sure will now," he chuckled, and you swatted at his shoulder.

"You're filthy," you teased him as you stretched your neck up to bite at his jaw, and he grinned. You ran your hand over his chest and tucked it underneath the collar of his shirt, your palm seeking out the warm skin on his shoulder, and you sighed.

"I missed you," you whispered. He understood what you meant. You missed this. This part of your relationship, the physical part that has been absent for so long.

"Me, too," he murmured, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your arm.

"I gotta go wash up, alright?" he said, and you nodded, rolling off him with a yawn and yanking the sheets over your half naked body.

He closed the bedroom door quietly behind him. The light in the hallway was still on overhead as he made his way to the bathroom. Jake swung the door open and turned off the light, looking up in surprise when he noticed Joel. He gave him a tight smile, extending his arm towards the bathroom.

"All yours," he said, moving to the side as Joel reached a hand into the bathroom to flick the light on. He grunted and made to close the door when Jake spoke again.

"Wish she could've stayed a little longer, we all had a good time," he said, motioning towards the closed bedroom door. Joel stiffened, picking up how he specifically wished you had stayed.

"I made sure she had a real good time here." Joel fixed him with a stern gaze and spread his arms across the door frame of the bathroom.

Jake stared back, his jaw twitching ever so slightly before he forced a smile across his face and gave Joel a nod, then turned to head back to his bedroom. Joel's eyes followed him until his door closed, then turned back into the bathroom to wash up.

"What are you smiling about?" Carrie asked you, nudging you with her hip as she passed by you with a flat of herbs. You flushed, unaware you had been smiling when you were zoning out watering the plants, thinking about the night before. More specifically, Joel's face buried between your legs. You could still feel the slight burn his beard left on your inner thighs, noticing earlier that morning they were slightly pink.

"Nothing!" you said hurriedly, but Carrie caught on when she noticed your blush, giving you a knowing look.

"Suuuure," she said, playfully rolling her eyes. "Can you forget about Joel for two seconds? I need your help." You laughed, but you could feel your blush deepen.

"What do you need help with?" you asked, brushing your hands against your pants.

"I need you to put in a good word for me with your cute roommate," she said, batting her eyes at you. "We talked for a few minutes last night, I think we got along pretty well. Can you find out if he likes me?"

"'Likes' you?" you giggled. "How old are we?" Carrie laughed and swatted at your shoulder.

"Hey, we aren't all as lucky as you," she wiggled her eyebrows at you as she continued. "Most people struggle to find love in the apocalypse."

"Yeah, sure, I'll talk to him next time I see him," you agreed. She thanked you, and then you felt a rush of cold air enter the room, warning you someone entered the greenhouse. Her eyes flicked over your shoulder and grinned.

"Speak of the devil. Hi, Joel!" she said, and you whipped around as he walked up the aisle of plants, waving to Carrie and giving you a warm smile.

"You ladies talkin' about me?" he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. He smelled like pine trees and fresh fallen snow.

"You're cold," you said after you felt his lips press against your forehead.

"You wanna warm me up, sweetheart?" he mumbled, and Carrie waved you both away.

"The both of you, leave, before you make me sick," she said, but she was grinning when you turned your attention back to her.

"I was gonna take her to lunch, that alright?" Joel asked, and Carrie nodded.

"Yes, go enjoy yourselves. I'll just be here when you get back, all alone," she said dramatically.

"I'll bring you something!" you yelled over your shoulder, but Joel had already wrapped you in your coat and pushed you out the door.

"This winter's been bad. We're way behind schedule on the wall around those houses. Thought we'd be almost done by now," Joel lamented as he finished up his lunch. You smiled at Seth when he dropped off the wrapped sandwich you had requested for Carrie and picked up your empty plate.

"It's ok," you assured him, rubbing his arm from across the table. "So we all have to bunk together for a little while longer. We'll make it work."

"I was just hopin' to get you a home by now, like I promised," he said, leaning back in his chair but kept his arm outstretched, enjoying the contact.

"It's just a few extra months, I'll be patient," you said, giving him a wink. He grinned, then leaned forward to say something that would make you blush when his eyes landed on Jake entering the dining hall behind you. You watched Joel visibly stiffen and the smile drain from his face. Frowning, you looked behind you, spotting the source of his mood shift pick a seat up against the bar, and you turned back to Joel.

"You're still jealous?" you teased, but this time he didn't smile.

"Not jealous," he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Jake and back onto you. "Just protectin' what's -"

"-mine. Yeah, I remember," you finished for him, rolling your eyes. "You know, I am capable of protecting myself, too."

Joel shifted in his seat and drew his hand back from yours to pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt, trying to block out the memory of the last man you protected yourself against.

"Yeah, I know. Just shouldn't have to," he mumbled. You could see Joel's mood was getting worse, then a thought occurred to you that might cheer him up.

"Well, I don't think you need to worry about Jake, do you know why?" you pushed, and he gave you a barely perceptible shrug.

"Carrie's got a big ol’ crush on him, she wants me to try to play matchmaker or something." He just continued to stare at you, not sure why you were telling him this.

"She's pretty. I'm sure he would be into her, too. If he really does have a thing for me, it will be a thing of the past very soon," you explained, then reached your hand across the table to him. "You don't have to worry, you know that, right?"

"All I do is worry," he said, shaking his head and weakly meeting your hand with his.

"I'm not gonna cheat on you, Joel," you said quietly, and his eyes shot up from the table.

"I know that sweetheart, it's not that. I'm sorry. I'm just... too much in my head or somethin'. I'll drop it." He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand and gave you a small smile. You could tell he was being sincere, although you still couldn't figure out what was bothering him so much about Jake.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Jake turn around on his stool to look around the room, and an idea popped in your head. Before you could stop yourself, you stood up from your chair, Joel giving you a confused look as you rounded the table. He leaned back in his seat as you approached, looking up at you when you stopped in front of him. You sat down sideways in his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your mouth over his hungrily, your tongue flicking against his teeth. He opened his mouth so his tongue could slide against yours, and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled back, leaving him chasing your mouth for more.

"What was that for?" he asked you, his brown eyes a shade darker and a smirk twitching at his lips. You rolled your eyes in the direction of Jake without turning your head, pretending to fix his collar. Joel's gaze slid across the bar to find Jake had, in fact, seen your little show.

"C'mon, walk me back to work," you said, standing up to put on your jacket.

"Gimme a minute," said Joel, shifting in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose.

A couple days later, the snow had finally stopped falling. Joel warned you that morning he was going to work as late as he could to make up some of the time lost on the project due to the weather, so you made plans with Maria to have dinner together. You were dying for an update on her relationship with Tommy, so the timing was perfect.

You stomped the snow off your boots on Tommy's front porch before pushing the door open, the warmth of the fireplace instantly heating your chilled face.

"Tommy?" You called out as you shed your outerwear.

"Just me!" Jake called back from the kitchen, and you cringed. You knew Joel wouldn't like the idea of the two of you being alone, even though he told you he was going to let it go, you still didn't want to give him a reason to worry. You glanced at the clock. You were meeting Maria in 20 minutes, at least you had an excuse to leave.

"Hey," you said, poking your head into the kitchen. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a thermal forest green shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He brushed the hair out of his eyes when he looked up from the stove to smile at you.

"Hey, I'm making pasta, want any?" he asked, turning back to the stove.

"No thanks, I'm meeting Maria soon. But actually, do you have a minute? I've been meaning to ask you something." You forgot about your promise to Carrie, and now seemed perfect since you had some time to kill.

"Sure," he said, tossing a towel over his shoulder and leaning back, his palms gripping the edge of the counter behind him. "Just Maria? No Joel?"

"Girl’s night," you told him, pulling a stool up to the counter across from him. "This might sound super high school, but do you like anyone around town?" you asked, wincing at how dumb it sounded. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he cleared his throat, turning the burner off on the stove so he could give you his full attention.

"You don't have to answer that, it's just-"

"No," he said, leaning forward on the counter, his blue eyes drilling into yours. "It's fine. Yes, maybe I do like somebody. Why?"

"Well, someone I know has a crush on you, and she wanted me to feel you out, I guess? See if you'd be interested," you chuckled and you could feel your cheeks heating up. "This is so awkward, I'm sorry, I should've just told her to come talk to you herself."

Jake gave you a polite laugh, noticing your blush.

"It doesn't have to be awkward," he said with a grin, his hand inching towards you on the counter. "I didn't think she would be interested in me, I thought she was seeing someone," he said, regarding you carefully.

"Nope, she's single. So, you are interested?" you said excitedly. He nodded, his gaze dropping down to your mouth quickly before looking back up.

"Very," he murmured, and you clapped your hands together.

"That's great!" You glanced at the clock, realizing Maria would be there any minute. "Alright, well, I'll tell her at dinner-"

You were cut off when Jake's lips pressed firmly against your mouth, his hand coming up to grasp the back of your neck. You were frozen in shock, your mind scrambling at the unexpected contact, but when you felt his tongue trying to slip past your lips, you pushed backwards, nearly falling off your stool.

"What the fuck?" you yelled, wiping your mouth over the back of your hand. You stood up from the stool and walked backwards towards the front door, scowling at him. He looked genuinely confused, taking a step back to give you even more space.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were talking about yourself," he explained, raising his hands up in front of him.

"No! I was clearly referring to someone I know, why would you think that?"

"I don't know! I thought you were being cute about it, like you couldn't come out and say it was you, but I was obviously wrong, I'm so sorry," he apologized, his eyes pleading. "Maybe I was just hoping it was you," he said a little sadly, and you felt your shoulders droop.

"My friend, Carrie," you said weakly. "I work with her at the greenhouse. She met you the other night, long blonde hair." If it wasn't awkward before, it sure was now. He nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember her," he said quietly, then looked down at the floor, embarrassed. You shifted your weight, desperately wanting this conversation to end.

"I'm supposed to meet Maria," you said, reaching for your coat. "I'll just... I'll tell Carrie to find you, or something," you mumbled, tugging on your gloves and heading out the door, figuring you would find Maria on the way.

"Joel's going to be so pissed," Maria said, her eyes wide. "You can't tell him."

"I have to!" you groaned and took another sip from your glass, the alcohol burning your throat. "If it was the other way around, I would want to know." You buried your face in your hands, your anxiety through the roof.

Maria sat back in her chair, sighing. She knew you were right.

"There's no good way to go about telling him,” she said, and you groaned again. "Just maybe make sure Jake is far away from you when you do."

The doors of the Tipsy Bison swung open, and you could hear Tommy and Joel's voices heading in your direction. You squeezed your eyes shut and downed the rest of your drink.

Joel snaked his arm around your waist, standing behind your stool at the bar, giving your shoulder a kiss.

"Hey," you said, giving him a weak smile. "Did you get a lot done?" He took the stool next to you and ordered a whiskey from Seth. Tommy and Maria were engrossed in a quiet conversation, and you were pretty sure you knew the topic.

"Still a lot to do, but we did as much as we could today. You feelin' alright?" he asked, noticing your demeanor. "You look a little pale."

"Mhmm, I feel fine," you said, avoiding his eyes and choosing to look around the bar instead. It was busy tonight. You could see Carrie with a group of friends across the room. You had no idea what you were going to tell her.

The doors opened again and this time, Jake walked in, his eyes scanning the room until he found you. He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw Joel, who was taking a sip from his glass, oblivious to his presence. Your pulse quickened in panic when you saw the determination in Jake's eyes. He raked his hand through his hair and forced himself to walk in your direction.

"Let's go home," you said hurriedly to Joel, sliding off your stool and tugging his arm. He gave you a surprised look, but slowly stood from his stool to join you.

"Why?" he asked, pulling his coat back on. Maria saw you both get up. You must have given her a look because she turned and saw Jake making his way over, and her eyes widened.

"Uh, you were right. I don't feel good, I want to go home. Let's go," you repeated, grabbing his hand and heading in the opposite direction.

"Well, hold on, lemme say bye to Tommy," he said, turning around, but you grabbed his chin and yanked it back to face you just as Jake had made his way through the crowd. Maria slid off her stool to stop him, distracting him while you made a break for it.

"Take me home, baby," you murmured, and you could see the heat behind his eyes when he heard your nickname for him.

"Yes, ma'am," he said lowly, and you pulled him into the throng of people, quickly making your way to the door.

Joel's hands were on you the minute you opened the door to Tommy's, walking you backwards into the kitchen and pushing you against the wall. His mouth latched onto your neck, and you moaned, tipping your head back, arching away from the wall and further into his body. You raked your hands up and down his back as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his waist, pinning you between him and the wall when his mouth made its way to the other side of your neck. You gasped when you felt him bite at your collarbone. He pulled back to plant a quick kiss over the bite.

"Sorry," he murmured, squeezing your thighs. "I'm not tryin' to leave marks on purpose this time," he assured you. You froze, guilt washing over you for letting yourself get distracted. He felt your body tense, so he pulled back further to look you in the eye. He must have seen something he didn't like because he frowned and let you slide back down to the floor.

You chewed your lip, trying to think of the best way to tell him. He could see you struggling, and the fear started to bubble in his chest.

"I need to tell you something," you began, "but you need to promise not to freak out." He shook his head and stumbled back to sit on a stool pushed up against the kitchen counter. You could see his chest begin to heave and you stepped forward, placing a hand against his heart.

"Breathe," you whispered, and he slid his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth.

"Just tell me,” he said quietly, his eyes still closed. You could feel his heart fluttering under your fingertips.

"There was a small misunderstanding, but it's all resolved now," you tried again, and Joel nodded, his clenched jaw giving away his feelings.

"Jake kissed me," you said, quickly adding "but it really was a misunderstanding. I was trying to tell him Carrie had a crush on him, and I don't know how, but I guess the way I phrased it made it sound like I was talking about myself. But I handled it."

He hung his head, chin tucked into his chest. His shoulders rose up and down as he took slow, deep breaths, absorbing your words. You slowly dropped your hand from his heart, letting it dangle at your side.

"Say something," you whispered, your heart like a hummingbird in your chest, your ribs the cage.

"I'm gonna kill him," he said darkly. He brought his head back up to look at you now. His jaw was clenched, nose flared, and his eyes burned with rage. The tone in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Joel," you warned, "I told you. I took care of it. He apologized, it's not a problem."

His eyes flashed with anger as he stood up, his fists clenched at his sides.

"And I fuckin' told you!" he roared, making you jump back. "He's had his eye on you since he got here! He knows you're mine and he still put his fuckin' hands on you!"

He pushed past you towards the door, shoving his boots back on and grabbing his coat in his fist. He swung the door open and stormed out as you scrambled to put your boots and coat on.

"Joel!" you yelled after him on the street, trying to catch up. He didn't reply, just shoved his arms through his coat and continued heading toward the Tipsy Bison. You jogged, careful not to slip on any ice, and reached him just as he was within view of the bar. You grabbed his arm and dug your heels into the snow.  He swiveled around so fast, you almost fell backwards. You swallowed hard when you saw his expression, his anger coming off him in waves.

"Please don't do this," you begged, gripping the sleeve of his coat so hard, your fingertips burned.

"I'm just gonna make sure it really is handled," he said lowly.

"How?" you whispered, unable to keep your voice steady.

"By breakin' his fuckin' jaw," he seethed, and he yanked his arm out of your grasp. He stormed up the steps and swung open the door to the bar, disappearing inside.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," you murmured to yourself, scrambling up the steps to the bar. You swung your head around, trying to find Joel, and then you spotted him. He was pushing his way through the crowd of people standing in groups around the bar, laughing and drinking, completely unaware of what was about to happen.

"Joel, stop!" you yelled, trying to follow him but getting swallowed up by the crowd. You kept shouting for him, but nobody heard you over the sound of the music and people talking.

"Jake!" You and the rest of the bar heard Joel roar, and the whole place fell silent, except for the music still playing. You struggled to push through everyone, now standing still and staring in the direction of Joel's voice.

You couldn't hear Jake's response, but you heard Joel.

"Outside. Now."

You broke through the crowd just in time to watch Joel grab Jake by the collar and drag him towards the front door. You and Maria exchanged panicked looks, then she pulled on Tommy's elbow, the three of you following in Joel's wake.

Outside, Joel had thrown Jake off the top step of the porch, sending him stumbling into the snow, but he managed to keep himself upright, swinging around with a scowl.

"Are you kidding me, man?" Jake said as Joel leisurely walked down the steps towards him. You vaguely realized a small crowd of people had joined you three outside, but you didn't bother to look.

"Joel," you tried again, your voice a little stronger now, but he held up a hand to silence you, eyes still fixed on Jake, stalking him like a predator. Jake looked past Joel's shoulder and met your eye.

"This who you want to be with?" He yelled to you, and your jaw fell open. "Look at him, he's crazy!"

"Don't talk to her," Joel snarled, and Jake let out a short laugh.

"Look, I get it," Jake said, backing up a couple steps. "It was an honest mistake. And I apologized right away."

Joel stopped, the muscles in his jaw twitching. You breathed a sigh of relief when Joel slowly turned his back on Jake and began heading towards you.

"Just thought you were looking for someone that could give you what you really need," Jake said to you.

Joel stopped in his tracks. You could see the switch flip, the same way you saw it in that closet in Kansas City.

"Shit," you whispered.

Joel spun around, punching Jake square in the nose with a distinct crunch. He stumbled back, clutching his nose, which was bleeding from both nostrils. He still managed to swing on Joel, hitting him in the eye. Joel lunged again, but Jake ducked and landed another punch, across the mouth this time, causing blood to drip from Joel's lip.

You covered your mouth with both hands, tears welling up in your eyes as you watched the brawl in horror, helpless to stop it.

Jake dodged another punch from Joel and tackled him around the middle, pinning him to the ground. He was only able to land one more punch before Joel rolled him over, now pinning Jake into the snow. Once Joel had the upper hand, it was over. His fists were merciless as he slammed into Jake's face over and over. It was silent except for Joel's grunts when he made contact, and the wet, mushy thud of his knuckles tearing into Jake's flesh. You realized Jake hadn't lifted an arm to defend himself after about the third punch, but Joel was still going, his eyes wild and uncaring.

"Joel!" You screamed, trying to snap him out of it. He either couldn't hear you, or he ignored you. You turned to the side, to the crowd of people watching the bloody scene before them, dumbstruck.

"Tommy!" You sobbed, his eyes glued to Joel, his jaw slack. Tommy blinked and looked at you, then realized what you were asking and rushed over to pull Joel away.

Maria seemed to snap out of it when she heard you yell, directing two men to help Jake up and take him to the infirmary. Tommy had Joel standing several feet away, his hand firmly on Joel's heaving chest as he quietly tried to talk sense into him. His knuckles were shredded, his eye swollen, already turning black and blue, and his face was splashed with blood. Some his, some Jake's.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, trickling hot paths across your cold skin. Maria pulled you into a hug and you sobbed on her shoulder.

"Why don't I take you home?" she murmured against your hair. You shook your head.

"I can't," you whispered, a fresh wave of tears washing over you. Maria shushed you and waved the crowd away, trying to protect you from prying eyes.

"You can stay with me," she offered. "I have an extra bed, it's small, but it'll do." You sniffled and pulled away, nodding.

"Thank you," you told her. You could already feel your eyes were puffy from crying.

She led you down the steps, past the snow painted in bright red blood. Joel seemed to finally come back down to earth when you passed him. He called out your name, but you ignored him, the same way he ignored you.

You heard Tommy say something to Joel about giving you some time, to go have a drink and get patched up. You could tell Joel was resisting but Tommy must have convinced him because he never followed.

Maria helped you pack some of your clothes while you grabbed anything you might need from the bathroom as quickly as possible. You were walking down the hallway when you heard the door shut and both Tommy and Joel's voices talking softly downstairs. You scurried into the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

"I think I have enough of your clothes, are you all set?" she asked as you shoved your toiletries into your backpack.

"Yeah, it'll be fine, I can come back if I need to," you told her, zipping the bag shut. You heard someone coming up the stairs and your heart began to hammer in your chest.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay and talk this out with him? You're always welcome at my place, don't get me wrong," she said hurriedly before Joel got to the door. You shook your head.

"I can't. Not tonight. I just... can't," you repeated, keeping your head down to hide the tears that were forming. You heard a soft knock on the door and looked up at Maria.

"I'll be downstairs, take your time," she said, and you nodded, your back to the door as you reopened your bag and shuffled some things around to try to look busy. She opened the door, unable to hide her shock from seeing Joel's face up close. She squeezed by him and muttered something about finding Tommy, then you heard the door shut softly.

"Where are you goin'?" Joel asked you, and you swore he sounded nervous. Good.

"Maria's," you said, your voice clipped. You heard him take a step towards you, then stop.

"Please stay," he begged softly, and you damn near gave in. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, standing up to finally look at him, and you gasped. His eye was a deeper blue color now and more swollen than before. You wondered if he could even see. His face had been cleaned up from the blood, but his lip was still split, as well as a cut on his cheek you didn't notice before.

He visibly winced at your reaction, and again, you had to fight the urge to go to him.

"I don't think so, Joel," you whispered, then cleared your throat, trying to sound stronger. "I need some space."

His face crumpled at your words, and he hung his head in shame.

"I can explain," he said, looking back up to you, but you held your hand up to stop him.

"Do you even realize what you've done?" you asked him, your brows furrowed. "They could throw you out of here. They could throw me out of here."

"That'll never happen," he said firmly, but you shook your head.

"You don't know that, Joel. It's a goddamn vote. If people think we aren't good for this place, we're fucking gone," you snapped. Your anger was bubbling up now.

For the second time, Joel looked nervous. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and shifted his weight.

You sighed and picked up your bag, heading for the door.

"Wait, just... wait a minute, can we talk about this?" he asked, putting a hand on your arm. You looked down at his knuckles, all torn apart and still weeping a small trail of blood.

"I don't have anything more to say," you said. "I just need some time."

Reluctantly, Joel dropped his hand from your arm. You swung the door open, closing it behind you without giving another glance in his direction, and headed downstairs to Maria.

Chapter Twenty

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo

[rutschsblog]

yeah, sorry, I can't come in to work today. yeah, I've got to think about how the tv adaptation of the last of us expertly made you comfortable with joel's violence through making you care about ellie enough it all feels justified so that by the time he gets to the hospital, you're genuinely conflicted about the carnage he enacts, some of which may not have been strictly necessary at the level of brutality he carries it out. yeah, it's gonna be all day

[rutschsblog]

image one | image two | image three

Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!John Price x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k+

Summary: It’s been a month since you’ve fucked your best friend’s dad, and it’s parents weekend at your university.

Rating: Restricted/MDNI (18+)

Categories: slight angst, smut, fluff

CWs: age gap (reader is in her 20s, Price is in his 40s-50s); mentions of past abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, minor violence, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Notes: completely wrote this on my phone, and I was high writing the entire second half of this. Blame any poor writing on technology and drugs!!

Read the first part here

Masterlist

I like to think that he thinks of himself as a protector in life. Sure, he was a leader - a Captain, well before you knew him. However, part of that role was making sure his team was safe, and that protectiveness transferred to everyone in his life.

Including you.

It’s been a month since he’d spent your entire winter break fucking you in secret. He took you in every room he could: on the couch as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. His hot breath panting onto your neck as he groaned and praised you. “Good fucking girl. Fuckin’ take it.”

In the shower. He’d snuck himself in, and his large, calloused hands rubbed themselves all over your body, stopping to pinch as your nipples, while the body wash slipped all over you. He’d eventually stuck his cock between your thighs, and eventually, slipped it inside of you.

He’d fucked you in his bed countless of times in every position he could have you. He’d never forget the way your tits bounced in his face as he left hand prints on your ass while you rode him. You had that stupid fucked out look on your face, and it had made him cum within ten minutes. He swore you were gonna give his old heart a heart attack.

Since you’d left and gone back to school, back with his son who was still clueless about everything, he’d texted you every single day. It ranged from sweet “good morning” texts to videos of him stroking his cock late at night, captioned with nothing more than something like “can’t stop thinking about you.”

And you fucking love it. You love the way that he made you feel, and you love the way he continues to make you feel so fucking special. Your heart races, and you get all giddy whenever you see his contact pop up in your phone.

Of course, you can’t leave him hanging. Can’t leave him with a hard cock, drooling pre-cum, and a set of heavy balls. That would just be mean.

So he gets your best work. Photos of you in your underwear while posing in the mirror, lots of photos of your tits and ass, some videos of you playing with your pussy, fingers shoved nice and deep, your juices spilling all over. There’s a wet patch on your sheets where your ass meets the fabric.

You’re whimpering for him as your eyes stay rolled back. “S-Sir,” you whine. “Please, sir. Come make me cum. I need you to make me cum.” His fat cock starts to harden, and it twitches slightly as he keeps the video on loop.

Of course, he’s protective of you. You belong to him now. His good, sweet girl.

That’s why, when it’s parent’s weekend at your university, he’s on edge. He knows that if he sees you, he won’t be able to control himself, and he was severely risking himself in a setting like this.

Your parents aren’t around. They’d claimed something about a business trip, and hung up without much of an apology. While you’re a bit upset, you expected the behavior.

So it leaves you all alone, only with JJ and his father. You start to question if you can have some self control, but as the days grows closer, the more you anticipate seeing John Price again, the more you know it would be damn near impossible.

The first day, nothing happens. While you were both tense, you and John had managed to keep things normal. He asks you where your parents are, and then a smile of sympathy as you all sit down for the luncheon the university is hosting. He gives you a smile—fuck, that smile—and he asks you for updates on your education.

“How are your grades?”

“Good.” He knows. “All As this semester.” He’d asked you the same question two weeks ago.

“Hopefully, I can keep them up.”

“You will. You’re a smart girl, so I believe in ya,” he tells you. He’d said the same thing last week.

Everyday, John checked in on you, made sure you were doing well, keeping on track with school. He cares about you, after all.

“My good girl,” he’d say into the phone during the late hours of the night. “Gonna do great things with your life, love.”

You softly smile as you recall the conversation in your head. He catches it, and gives you one back.

It’s night two out of three that you break.

It was tradition for some of the Greek life chapters to host a mixer for all students to bring their parents to. Admittedly, it was fun to see some of the parents go all out, as if they were just the next new pledges for the semester.

John had lost sight of his son long ago when he got pulled over for a game of beer pong, so he stands in the kitchen. There’s a red solo cup in his hand, and the flavor of cheap whiskey sits on his tongue as he lets out a heavy sigh.

He’s about to call his son’s phone, tell him that he’s gonna head out, but you catch his attention first.

You’re marching into the kitchen with a look of dread on your face. There’s wet patches underneath your eyes, and your nose is a bit swollen. Behind you, a student that looks to be your age trails behind you. He’s got dark hair, blue eyes, and that type of face that just screams “manipulator.”

John watches with a pensive expression, and he waits to step in.

“Will, just leave me alone,” You plead without looking fast. Your voice warbles as you seem to try to escape him. You’re unsuccessful as his hand reaches out to your waist and effectively gets you to turn around. “Seriously, I told that it’s done!” You say. “I don’t want to see you anymore!”

“Love, come on. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” He pulls you in closer, moving his hand to caress your cheek. It makes you flinch a bit, but he grabs your face anyways. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what was going on. Though’ she’was you. I miss you.”

You try to push him away, but he’s got a tight grasp on you, and you’re not exactly the most sober. Your hands slap against his shoulders as you struggle. “Get off of me, dickhead!”

Will’s grip only tightens on you, and he increasingly becomes frustrated with your actions. “Would you knock it off! You’re such a brat! Just fuckin listen to me,” he demands.

You continue to fight him, but he only pulls away when the sound of a loud, raspy “HEY” grabs everyone’s attention.

John is angrily striding over to where you stand, and he immediately pushes Will away from you. While Will wasn’t scrawny, he sure as shit wasn’t built like John Price, and he ends up on the floor.

Instantly, Captain John Price has made his presence known. He doesn’t have to do much more than glare at the younger man to get him to run off, close to pissing himself.

Once he’s off, John is checking on you, ignoring the stares and murmurs from all the witnesses around him. Right now, you are all that matters.

He does a quick once over, checking for any scratches or bruises. When he gets to your face, he can see a bit of redness from where Will has grabbed you. “You hurt?”

“No,” you say to him, barely in a whisper. “Just a bit shook up…”

John just nods, and he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you out the front door. He navigates the way through the crowd outside, and eventually, you find yourselves on a park bench.

He lets you rest your head on his shoulder, and he plays with your hair. “Wanna talk about it?” He offers. “Don’t have to but… If he ever touches you ever again– if he’s done something…”

There’s a long pause. You don’t speak, only shoving your face further into the shirt he was wearing. Tears slowly spill from your eyes, and you begin shaking.

You stay like that for a few minutes. You take the time to calm yourself down, taking slow and deep breaths. Once you’re able to find your voice again, you speak.

“Only once,” you say. “He hit me only once, and then I left for good. Four months ago, I told him we were done for good. We’d been pretty on and off before.”

John tenses as you confess to him. His eyes squeeze shut as he pulls you closer. His lips press against your forehead while he takes a deep breath. “As long as I’m around, nothing bad will happen to you, love.”

You pull away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. You gaze into them, and it puts a small smile on your tear stained face. You lean in and kiss him. It’s soft and slow, and by the end of it, you’re in his lap.

“I know,” you say to him. “You’ll protect me…”

John swears you’re a siren. It’s impossible for you to look like such a dream. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as he looks up at you. He holds onto your waist, a much gentler touch than earlier. “I’ll always protect my girl.”

And he says it like a promise. He promises that he will protect you. If he needed to, he’d gather than rest of 141, and they’d take down Will themselves. He promises he’ll protect you—his girl.

It makes you kiss him again. This time, the kiss is much hungrier, more demanding. Your teeth are clashing, and you whine as you rock your hips back and forth. “Say it again,” you beg. “Please, John.”

“Say what again?” He asks. The tone he uses is teasing, filled with a unique playfulness. “You’re my girl? Tha’s what you are; you’re my girl.” He reaches down, and he unbuckles his belt. It takes a while of fumbling around before he’s finally able to free his hard cock.

He uses his hand to guide it to the side of your panties, and pushes them to the side so that your bare cunt is grinding onto him. He slides between your folds, bumping against your sensitive clit. “My good fucking girl,” he praises. “All nice and wet f’me. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy.”

Without so much of a word, you shift yourself forward, effectively letting him slide into you. Soft moans spill from your lips as you feel him slowly stretch you open. “J-John,” you cry. “Hnngh, please.”

He cradles your head as his shushes you. “I’ve got you, love,” he reassures you before he bottoms out. “Oh, fuck!” He groans. “Yeah, I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.”

He bounces you up and down on his cock, and it puts a smile on his face. He loves the way your eyes roll back. You’re so fucked out already that you fail to realize how loud you’re being.

“Shhh, quiet down, love,” he chuckles out. “We’re out in public. Anyone could catch us.”

While it gets you to quiet down a little bit, you can’t help but continue to whimper and moan as he fucks up into you. “Gonna cum,” you slur. “I need to cum. Missed you so much, John. Please, please, please!”

He’s losing his mind at your words, and it’s at this moment that he knows he’s fucked. He wouldn’t ever be able to want anyone else but you. “Cum for me, love. My sweet girl; my pretty girl,” he praises.

He can feel you tighten up as you grow increasingly wet. When he feels your pussy start clenching and spasming around him, he feels himself twitch before ultimately releasing.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans. He doesn’t stop bouncing you, sending you into overdrive. Your hands grip tightly to him as you cry out, and he whispers praises in your ears.

Once you’ve ridden out your orgasm, you both breathe heavily as you cling to each other. Sweat drenches your bodies, and your hair sticks to your forehead. Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you and puts your panties back in place.

“Keep me in there, love,” he says softly.

After a few minutes, you remove yourself from his lap, and he tucks his cock back into his pants. He carries you back to your apartment, and once you get the door unlocked, you’re pulling him inside to your bedroom.

You slowly and sensually strip each other of clothing, pressing kisses to each other’s lips in between. Once he’s got you naked, he’s slipping his shirt over your body and crawling into bed with you.

His strong arms wrap around you as he presses your back against him. You can feel the soft pudge of his belly against you, and it makes you smile and let out a sigh of content.

“Missed you, John,” you say.

He kisses your head. “Missed you too, my pretty girl.”

Hopefully, he’d wake up in time to sneak out of your room in the morning. Sure would be a shame if his son came home and caught them like this.

© 2023 tfone4one.tumblr.com - do not copy, modify, repost, or translate any of my works. any action to do so will be considered plagiarism.

[rutschsblog]

Pretty Boy - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: You find out how flustered Tommy gets when you call him a pet names and take control

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral (M!receiving); orgasm denial; semi-public; smut (p in v)

Notes: An anon requested sub!Tommy and I am here for it, never thought about Tommy being in anyway sub but no they’re right he’d want to be dominated once in a while and is totally a soft dom 

Keep reading

[rutschsblog]

look what we've become - ch.5

Chapter Summary: On the road to take Ellie back to her family, you finally figure out what's been holding you back about your future with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), piv sex, fear of commitment, discussions of pregnancy

WC: 7.1K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter

"Joel, come on. We spent the better part of a year out there every single day, you know I can handle myself," you said, trying to reason with him.

His pulse thrummed in his throat, anger still bubbling just below the surface as he paced around the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards mindlessly.

"Do I need to remind you of all the shit that happened in that year?" he replied angrily, still pacing around the kitchen, burning off his nervous energy.

"No," you said softly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, guilt immediately washing over him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and you shook your head.

"It's fine."

Sighing, his palms roughly rubbed his face. He hated this feeling. He just wanted to keep you safe, but he knew he couldn't control you, either. And for whatever reason, you were hellbent on taking this girl back to her family.

"Please," he said, resorting to begging now. "Please don't go. I got a bad feelin' 'bout this."

"But you're going with me," you said, taking a few steps towards him. He eyed you wearily, but he could feel his resolve breaking. "You can keep me safe."

"Yeah, 'cause I did such a great job the first time," he muttered.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" you countered. He dropped his chin to his chest, and you knew you were wearing him down. Stepping forward to close the gap, you tentatively placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his chest. His fingers itched to touch you, but he refrained, his stubbornness winning the fight.

"I'm sorry 'bout what I said," he told you, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

"I told you it was fine."

"I meant what I said at Tommy's," he replied, looking behind you at the wall, avoiding eye contact. "That was low."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back with a shrug.

"I probably deserved it," you said. "Don't worry about it."

"No, you don't deserve it. Don't say that," he said, furrowing his brow and looking at you now. "I'm just sore about it, still."

"I know," you said quietly. You looked at one another for a moment, each of you unsure how to navigate this rough patch on top of everything else.

"Is there anythin' I can do to talk you outta this?"

"Short of tying me down, no," you said with a smirk.

"Don't gimme any ideas," he said, and although he was trying to sound serious, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a barely perceptible grin.

"Would that make you feel better, baby?" you asked lowly. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt a stirring below his waist at the tone in your voice.

"Don't do that," he warned, but his voice held no conviction.

"Do what?" you asked innocently.

"You're tryin' to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"You know it is."

You hummed and took a step forward. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down, giving him a soft kiss before leaving a slow trail of kisses along his scruffy jaw.

"This ain't fair," he sighed, closing his eyes and giving in, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, pressing you against his body.

"I know," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue all the way down his neck until you reached his collarbone. You grazed your teeth along the sensitive skin there, and he shuddered.

"If you know, then why're you doin' it?"

"Because you haven't touched me in weeks, and I need you," you said before sucking a bruise into his skin and leaving out the underlying reason: you needed to feel close to him.

"Fuck, sweetheart, c'mon," he complained weakly, but you knew you already won.

"Okay, I'll stop," you said suddenly, untangling yourself from him and stepping backwards. "I have other things I need to do anyway, like get ready for this trip."

He had you pushed up against the wall in a heartbeat, pulling your knees up so your legs clung to his waist for support, grinding his hips into you with a groan. You gasped when his mouth latched onto your neck, biting and licking aggressively as you clutched his broad shoulders.

"That kid gonna walk in here?" he asked, voice muffled against your neck.

"I locked the door when I came in."

"Good girl," he said, his big hands gripping your ass as he stepped you both away from the wall and walked you towards the living room, his mouth barely leaving your body in the process.

He dropped you both on the couch with a grunt, your legs falling open now that they didn't need to support you. Dragging his face off of your neck, you pulled him up for a deep kiss, his tongue instantly invading your mouth while his hands fumbled with the button on your shorts. You wiggled your body so you could free yourself of your shirt, only breaking contact with Joel for a moment. His hands cupped your breasts and he let out an appreciative groan, rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper into his mouth.

You could tell he needed you just as badly, the desperation was rolling off of him in waves. He only managed to pull down his jeans a few inches, freeing himself from his pants quickly. Tucking his chin down so he could line himself up, he pulled the bottom of his T-shirt up and held it between his teeth, not letting it go until he sunk the tip of his cock into you. His jaw relaxed with a soft moan, T-shirt fluttering back down to cover his stomach and his forehead coming to rest gently on your shoulder as he slowly stretched you open.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes screwed shut as you focused entirely on that blissful feeling of him first entering you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted until he bottomed out with a groan.

"God, I missed that so much," you whined, clutching his shoulders as you adjusted to his size. You felt him sigh with relief on top of you, unmoving, just enjoying the feeling for a few moments. Your fingers relaxed on his shoulders and you raked them gently over his back and up through his hair, your nails scraping over his scalp in the way that made him shiver.

Suddenly, his hands shot up and snagged both your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and into the couch cushion. He leaned up, all his weight pressing into your wrists as he looked down at you.

"Didn't you say somethin' about tyin' you down?" he asked with a smirk. Recognition flashed across your eyes and you grinned.

"I did," you said, and you felt him twitch inside you.

"This'll have to do," he told you, rolling his hips into you for the first time. You moaned, your hands instinctively trying to move to grab him, but you could only stretch out your fingers. He tsked at you, rolling his hips more.

"Nuh uh," he teased, feeling your muscles flexing under his grip. "Why d'you insist on drivin' me crazy all the damn time, huh?"

You mumbled something unintelligible as a response, too distracted, the sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of you commanding your full attention. Each and every inch of him pushing into you, making your head swim and your thighs tense.

"Had so much to say earlier, not so much anymore," he said, snapping his hips into you faster, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. His fingers squeezed around your wrists, watching as your tits bounced with every harsh thrust.

"Maybe next time they're lookin' for volunteers, I'll just fuck you to keep your mouth shut," he said with a grunt as he felt you clench around him, his hips stuttering for a second before he picked his pace back up.

"Joel," you whined. Your biceps ached from straining against his grip, not realizing how much you enjoyed touching him until you couldn't do it, and now it was all you wanted.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, his orgasm sneaking up on him faster than he expected. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. He opened his eyes again just to find yours were screwed tight, head tipped to the side, and lower lip trapped between your teeth.

"Look at me," he commanded, but you ignored him. Eyes closed, head still tilted away. "Look at me and tell me what you need," he said more firmly now. Urgently. Your eyes snapped open and you gazed up at him.

"Touch me," you whispered, and he instantly brought both your arms above your head, crossing your wrists so he could hold them down with one hand, freeing the other to slip between your bodies. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell open, drawing a loud moan from your throat the moment he made contact. You began to rock your hips upwards, meeting him thrust for thrust as his thumb pressed circles into your clit faster.

"C'mon," Joel begged, trying so hard to hold back so you could come first. "C'mon, I need to feel it, come for me."

You lifted your back off the couch, arching as you felt your orgasm swell. His name was stuck in your throat, body rigid for a moment as it washed over you, your fingers digging into his and nearly drawing blood.

"Oh, f-fuck, fuck yes," he groaned, slamming himself into you over and over, fucking you through it until your body relaxed under him. He pulled out quickly, stroking himself before he stilled, watching in a daze as he painted your stomach with his spend.

He released your wrists, panting as he sat back onto the couch and closed his eyes.

"Joel, can you-" you began to ask if he would hand you a tissue, but he cut you off, figuring out your request for himself.

"Yeah, hold on," he said, fixing his pants before standing up with a grunt and grabbing the tissue box, pulling one out and then carefully cleaning you up. You watched him as he stayed focused on his task, then frowned when he paused for a moment as he stared at your torso, lost in thought. You reached a hand out to twist the ends of his hair between your fingers, and that seemed to snap him out of it. Still avoiding your gaze, he finished cleaning you with a sigh, then dropped his head forward between his shoulders.

You thought maybe he was thinking about your conversation about kids since he had made sure to pull out this time, but when his thumb stretched up to graze the scars along your ribs, you realized you were wrong.

"Joel-"

"You could've died," he said, lifting his head to look at the scars you were rewarded years ago for saving his life. You curled his hair around your finger before tucking it behind his ear.

"You could've died, too," you countered.

"I don't care 'bout me, I care 'bout you."

"Well, I don't care about me, I care about you," you shot back. He sighed and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your naked body and resting the side of his head against your stomach.

"Please stay home," he whispered.

"I... I can't," you told him.

"Why?"

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wishing so badly that you could tell him Ellie's secret, but you made her a promise.

"Because she's scared, Joel. And she asked me. She was crying, you didn't see her," you explained. "When she found out I wasn't going, she was devestated."

"She was crying?" he asked in disbelief, lifting his head from your stomach to look at you, and you nodded.

He sighed again, defeated, and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine," he said, sounding tired. He reached behind him to find your clothes and handed them back to you, piece by piece, as you dressed yourself.

"It's only a couple of weeks," you assured him, standing up to button your shorts. He straightened and looked down at you.

"Suppose it's best you aren't here, anyway," he acquiesced. "Just in case these people see through our bullshit."

"Right," you said, chewing on your lower lip. "But they don't know where we live."

"No, but I got a feelin' they could find out if they really wanted to," he replied, walking back toward the kitchen and leaving you with yet another concern that would keep you up at night.

It was early in the morning as you and Joel silently made your way through the sleeping town towards the front gate. On your back you carried your pack with your rolled up sleeping bag strapped to the bottom, same as Joel. You felt unusually nervous, most likely due to Joel putting all those ideas in your head that something will go wrong. Or maybe it was because you hardly spent much time outside the walls of Jackson anymore, and you were worried you had become too soft, too accustomed to a domestic life, that you wouldn't remember how to survive in the woods.

"Last chance," Joel muttered beside you. You glanced up at him and gave him a smirk.

"Nice try," you told him.

With the front gate now in view, you could see three figures huddled in the darkness with only the light from the stable to illuminate them. Tommy noticed you coming first, looking up with a nod and causing Ellie to twist around with a wide grin. When she noticed Joel at your side, her smile faltered a bit, but she didn't say anything.

"You all ready to go?" Tommy asked, sleep still clouding his eyes. Joel nodded, glancing once at Ellie before looking away.

"We're gonna have to go on foot, not enough horses left behind for patrol and Eugene's crew," Maria said regrettably. You weren't bothered. You would be quieter on foot, anyway.

You left through the gate and began heading south through the mountains, your gun lying heavy against your back. When you first arrived in Jackson, it felt strange to not be armed all the time, like you were missing something, but now it was the opposite: you felt hyper aware of the handgun in the back of your jeans and the blade strapped to your ankle. Every step, you felt the objects brush against your skin, the metal irritating and reminding you of the danger that potentially lied ahead.

"Thought he said he wouldn't help take me back home," Ellie said quietly so Joel wouldn't overhear, falling in step next to you.

"Changed his mind," you told her, looking up at the back of his head several feet ahead of you. "See? He isn't so bad."

"Yeah, I guess not," she replied. "Still hates me, though."

"He doesn't hate you, Ellie. He's just frustrated with the whole situation," you assured her.

"Did you... tell him?" she asked you very quietly, and you shook your head quickly.

"Absolutely not," you told her, giving her a serious look. She nodded, looking relieved.

"Well, thanks. For not saying anything, and for coming with me. It's not that I don't like Tommy and Maria, it's just..." she trailed off, not sure how exactly to articulate her feelings, but she didn't have to.

"I know," you said with a smile. "You just like me the best."

She laughed and you grinned, knocking your shoulder into her lightly as you walked.

The group of you made it down the mountains with no issues. No infected, no people, not even any animals. You knew it was due to being so isolated, but it still made you feel a little less anxious. You made decent time the first day, surprising since you had thought Ellie would have slowed you down a bit, but the girl was quick on her feet and kept pace with the adults.

It was nearing September and the weather was usually the most comfortable this time of year. It was still warm, but not as sweltering as it had been. If you had to sleep on the forest floor, at least it wasn't the middle of winter.

You rolled out your sleeping bag next to Joel's, and Ellie rolled hers out near the other side of you. Not next to you, but close. Tommy and Joel had managed to snag a couple rabbits with your old bow, which meant you could conserve the dry goods you brought with you.

Taking watch at night wasn't so bad when there were four of you sharing the burden. It meant your shifts were shorter and much more tolerable. When it was your turn, you couldn't help but glance over at Joel while he slept restlessly on top of his sleeping bag. It was all coming back to you now that you were out in the forest like this. The way you and Joel used to make camp, take watch, hunt, scavenge. You could see the change in him almost immediately: his radar going up, constantly on high alert. He had a knack for survival early on. He knew right away you needed shelter, weapons, food, clothes. And he knew the smartest ways to get all those things. You, on the other hand, were a little slower at learning how to live like this, and this time was no exception. But you felt it coming back to you with each passing hour. You wondered if Joel ever had a hard time readjusting to life out in the wilderness, too, or if he never let it go in the first place.

It took Maria three whole days to finally corner you alone on the trail to talk. You were surprised it took her that long.

"He seems like he came around to this whole thing," she began, nodding in Joel's direction. You shrugged.

"I didn't give him much of a choice," you said with a smirk. "He's convinced something's going to happen, you know how he gets. He's... protective," you said, choosing your words carefully.

"Yeah, I can't really blame him, considering what you guys have been through," she said, glancing over at Tommy who was bringing up the rear. "I imagine if half that shit happened to me and Tommy, he would be a little protective too."

You hummed in agreement, watching Ellie dig her walking stick into the ground with each step she took, leaving little divots in the dirt behind her.

"So," Maria began, clearing her throat. "It kind of feels like something might have happened with you two after that little scare."

You sucked in air through your teeth and glanced nervously behind you at Tommy, making sure he couldn't hear you before replying.

"Didn't exactly go well," you admitted.

"I figured, given that comment at our house the other day," she said.

You caved and gave her the bullet points of the argument, not wanting to chance being overheard. You told her your reservations about having kids, and Joel's assumption that you would want them. You chose to leave out most of the hurtful things each of you had said to the other and focused on your concern about your future together and whether or not you would find a fair compromise.

"You don't even want to get married?" she asked, and you sighed.

"I don't know, Maria. I'm scared and I'm not sure why," you said quietly.

"Well, before the outbreak, did you see yourself getting married and having a family?"

You paused, knowing where she was going.

"Yes," you replied slowly.

"So it's not a matter of never wanting to. It must be a fear related to the outbreak, right?" she asked, and again you shrugged.

"I guess."

"Do you trust him?"

"Of course!" you said, almost insulted.

"Okay, okay. I know you love him, and you trust him, so what else is there? What could possibly make you so scared that you don't want to commit yourself to the man who worships the ground you walk on?" She was really pushing, laying it on thick and trying to drag it out of you.

"Because I'm afraid of losing him," you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you even had a chance to think. You stopped in your tracks, Maria doing the same and motioning for Tommy to walk ahead of you while you collected your thoughts. He gave you both a confused look as he wandered past, but he kept moving. Maria urged you to keep walking so it wouldn't draw the group's attention.

"What do you mean?" she prompted.

"This world we live in now, Maria," you began, focusing your eyes on the ground so you didn't have to look at her. "I'm terrified. Every time he leaves Jackson, I'm terrified he won't come back. Ever since that accident in the barn last year-" you stopped talking. You could feel your throat squeezing shut, remembering how awful it was for those three days when he didn't wake up, anticipating the worst.

"I know," she said, rubbing your arm as she walked next to you. She was there at the infirmary with you that night he was brought in, she remembered what you went through.

"We're so lucky to have found Jackson," you said after taking a deep breath. "But it doesn't mean bad things still can't happen. And I think if we were to get married, if we had that one perfect day filling my memory and Tommy or Jesse or Eugene come back home without him, I would never survive it. And how would I explain that to a child? I'm not strong enough for that."

Tears were streaming steadily down your cheeks now. You did your best to wipe them away with your hand but they were coming too fast. Maria pulled her pack around to her front so she could find a clean rag and handed it to you.

"I think-"

"And then what?" you continued, on a roll now and cutting her off. "I would have this ring on my finger, this constant reminder every single day of what I lost. Because you know I could never take it off. I could never move on. It would just be there, weighing me down every single day until I'm dead!"

You hadn't realized your voice was rising until Tommy turned his head to look at you curiously. You took a shaky breath in and angled your face to the ground so he wouldn't see your tears.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," you whispered, looking back up at Maria. "You just got engaged and here I am telling you all this horrible shit."

"Actually, everything you just said makes me feel the exact opposite," she said with a grin. You frowned, waiting for her to continue.

"If Tommy weren't to come home one day, I would feel like my world ended, of course. But you know what else?"

You shook your head, your tears finally slowing.

"After all that pain washed away, I would still have that one perfect day filling my memory, just like you said. I would hopefully have kids that I could look at and see a piece of him. Every day. I would have those memories, those moments with me forever. And if I have that, he would never be really gone, you know?"

Her eyes glistened as she spoke, but she was smiling. You blinked at her, rolling her words around in your head, unsure what to do with them.

"Just think about it," she said to you. "Do whatever makes you happy, but don't let fear hold you back. That's no way to live."

You nodded and turned to look back at the rest of the group traipsing through the forest, your eyes landing on Joel last, who was leading you all through the trees. Always so strong, unwavering, and sure of himself. He was a survivor. So what made you doubt him now?

"Just take what we absolutely need, and be quick," Joel told the everyone firmly. You were standing outside a run down gas station somewhere in the middle of Utah, a little more than halfway to Phoenix. "Restock our food, first aid, whatever, and then we're movin' out. We're already behind schedule as it is," he continued, brow furrowed in frustration.

You knew he wanted to get back home, but even he had to admit the trip was going as smooth as possible so far. Only twice did you come across a few infected in your travels, and both times you were able to take them down quietly and without anyone getting hurt. It had been so long since you had seen one, you had nearly forgotten what they looked like. Or maybe as time went on, they just got uglier.

You walked into the store behind Joel, Ellie right on your heels, as you did a quick sweep of the room. It was small and easy to confirm it was safe.

"I'm gonna check out the back, make sure there's no surprises," Maria said softly next to you, and you nodded.

"I'm right behind you," you said.

"No, that's alright, I can do it," she said hurriedly, and before you could protest, she was slipping behind the stockroom door.

"Tommy, c'mere. Let's see if there's any gas left and if any of these cars are workin'," Joel whispered to his brother, and Tommy nodded in agreement, zipping his pack shut after he stuffed it full of expired nuts and beef jerky. Before he left, Joel turned back to you and Ellie.

"Be careful," he said, staring at you, and you nodded. "And no foolin' around," he added, now looking straight at Ellie, refusing to look away until she rolled her eyes and nodded. He ticked his jaw and picked up the gas can he found on one of the shelves, leaving just the two of you to explore.

"Be cool if we got a car," she said to you as she poked around the aisles, looking for anything worthwhile. "My parents never had one."

"Oh, no?"

"I don't think so. Maybe when I was really small they did, but I can't remember. My parents mostly took the bus or trains," she trailed off with a shrug.

"It's been a while since I've been in a car, myself," you murmured, sifting through the dry goods on the shelves.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Ellie said, looking around to make sure Maria was still in the back.

"Sure," you replied, scrunching your nose at some pop tarts that looked a little past their prime.

"Do you think doctors could make a cure?"

You stopped what you were doing to give her your full attention now.

"I mean, like, with my blood or whatever," she added.

"I don't know, Ellie. Science was never my best subject," you joked.

"But if there were some doctors out there who knew how vaccines were made, do you think they could do it?"

You had never really given the idea of a vaccine much thought. When Ellie told you her secret, you weren't thinking about a vaccine. You were thinking about the rare gift she was given, that being immune would give her the chance at a good, long life. And she deserved to have that with her family.

Then something clicked about the Fireflies.

"Ellie," you said slowly. "The Fireflies. They were based in two different hospitals, right?" She nodded. "Were they trying to develop a vaccine? Is that why they wanted Joel and Tommy to take you to Salt Lake City?"

"Yes," she admitted quietly. You took a deep breath, trying to pick your questions carefully and wondering why she didn't tell you this in the first place.

"And were you okay with that?"

"Not exactly. But Marlene said because I'm a minor, I didn't have a say," she told you.

"That's not true!" you said, feeling your anger flare. "Of course you have a say."

She shrugged, seeming indifferent, but you knew something about it must have bothered her if she brought it up. You were about to ask her more questions when you heard a box fall in the stock room. You whipped your head around and pulled out your gun, ushering Ellie behind you as you made your way over to the door. You nudged it open and peeked inside, your gun pointed at the floor.

"It's alright, it's just me!" Maria called out. You let out a sigh of relief and shoved the gun back in your jeans before pushing the door open all the way, finding Maria hunched over the floor scooping up floss and toothpaste that had spilled from the box.

"Find anything good?" you asked, your eyes roaming over the picked over shelves.

"Uh, not really," she said, shoving the box back against the wall. She stood up to look at you, her hand strategically hidden behind her back as she glanced down at her backpack on the floor near your feet, reaching out a hand.

"Do you mind?" she asked, motioning towards the pack.

"Oh, sure," you said, picking it up and handing it to her. She avoided eye contact and quickly snatched the bag from your grip. You raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but let it go, deciding to grill her later when Ellie wasn't around.

"Oh, cool, check it out!" Ellie exclaimed from the small break room. She popped her head out and raised a comic above her head. "I don't have this one yet!"

"Nice!" you said with a smile. There were so few pleasures the kid had, and that silly comic book series was one of them.

You heard the bell ding from the front of the store, then Tommy calling out Maria's name. The three of you headed back out to find Joel and Tommy waiting for you.

"All good?" Joel asked you.

"Yep. Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah, we are. With a new set of wheels," Tommy said with a grin, leading you out of the store and into the parking lot, where a dark green pickup truck was running idle.

"Wow, a '96 Dodge Ram, my dream car," you said teasingly, and you caught Joel smirk out of the corner of your eye. You took his hand and stopped, letting the others go ahead and pack their things into the truck, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"This is great, Joel. Thank you," you said, looking up at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Don't gotta thank me," he replied. You took a moment to searching his eyes, only to see the affection he held for you reflected right back. Even after everything you put him through, his love for you never wavered. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, lost in thought, and he gave you a curious look.

"You alright?" he asked. You blinked and dropped your hand.

"Yeah. Let's go," you said. Walking toward the truck, you slipped into the back of the cab where Maria sat behind Tommy with Ellie wedged between you both in the back.

"Let's get as many miles as we can under our belts before sundown," Joel said with a grunt as he lifted himself into the passenger seat in front of you.

"A proper road trip, with gas station snacks and all," Tommy said, shifting the truck into drive and heading out onto the open road.

By the end of the day you had made it to the Arizona border. Joel seemed like he was in a much better mood, either due to the truck or making up time on the road. Probably both. You noticed he even cracked a smile at a dumb joke Ellie told Tommy around the fire. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, except for Maria. She was unusually quiet and only offered up tight smiles when Tommy and Joel were telling a story and sharing a flask of whiskey.

Guilt began to creep into the back of your mind. She didn't seem bothered by it at the time, but maybe what you said about marriage and children sat with her and now you were giving her doubts, as well.

That night when you woke her up to take her turn on watch, you decided to stay awake a little longer when you knew no one could overhear you and find out what was going on.

"You seemed quiet today, everything okay?" you asked her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She sighed and glanced around at the other three members of your group, confirming they were sound asleep, before standing up from her sleeping bag and picking up her rifle. She tipped her head towards the trees, indicating that you should follow. Once you were far enough away to talk quietly, she stopped to root around in her jacket pocket.

"If this is about what I said yesterday, I am so sorry," you began. "Don't listen to me, I obviously have my own shit to work through and you shouldn't let it effect you and Tommy."

"Huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow until she realized what you meant. "Oh! I already told you, that didn't bother me at all. But the timing of that conversation is kind of ironic..."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

She held something out to you in the dark. You took it from her and stepped more into the moonlight so you could get a better look.

"What is... ohmygod!" you nearly yelled, slapping your hand over your mouth at the last minute to muffle your voice. "Maria!" you whisper shouted, eyes wide, looking back and forth between her and the strip of plastic in your hand. She was grinning like an idiot with tears in her eyes. You pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're pregnant!" you said quietly, and you felt her nod. You stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. "Does Tommy know?"

"Not yet, I literally just took it today. I thought maybe I had just put on weight or something, then I was wondering how the hell a fourteen year old can keep up on the trail better than me, and I just had a hunch," she said excitedly.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, looking back down at the test in your hand before giving it back to her. "Congratulations! This is... amazing!"

"Thank you," she said, staring down at the test like she still couldn't believe it. "I'll tell him in the morning. I think I just needed a bit of time to get my head around it, first."

"Yeah, of course," you said, nodding. Then your thoughts drifted to Joel, and as if she was reading your mind, Maria gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a sore topic for you guys-"

"No, don't you dare be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about. We'll be fine," you assured her.

"Okay," she said, still smiling as she took a deep breath and pocketed the test.

The next morning, Maria pulled Tommy aside to tell him the good news. Joel and Ellie hung their heads over their breakfast sleepily and physically jumped when Tommy's voice carried through the trees. Joel stood up, at first unsure if there was danger, then sat back down in a huff when he saw his brother was smiling.

"Would'ya keep it down?" Joel seethed as Tommy and Maria walked back into earshot. "You're gonna attract attention with all that noise."

"Sorry," Tommy said with a wide grin, looking back at Maria fondly. Joel looked at him expectantly, waiting for Tommy to explain himself. You held your breath when he finally spoke.

"We're gonna have a baby!" Tommy announced gleefully. You stood and gave him a warm smile before enveloping him into a tight hug, whispering congratulations in his ear before moving to Maria to give her the same treatment, pretending it was your first time hearing the news.

"No shit," Ellie was saying with a smirk. She offered Tommy and Maria both an awkward hug. "Congrats!"

Finally, you allowed your gaze to drift over to Joel, who hadn't moved a muscle, staring straight ahead. Your eyes flicked over to Maria nervously then back to Joel, everyone waiting for him to say something.

He was lost in thought, hardly even realizing everyone was looking at him when all he could think about was this should have been us. Ellie cleared her throat loudly and Joel blinked, finally snapping out of his fog. His eyes focused on Tommy and he gave him a weak smile before stretching out his hand and giving him a firm shake.

"Congrats," Joel finally managed to say, the word getting mangled in his throat.

Whatever extra time you had made up the day before using the truck was wasted that morning as Tommy and Maria went back and forth over their options. Ultimately, Tommy wanted to be cautious, and considering how close you were to Phoenix and near the end of your journey, decided he and Maria would head back home early.

You didn't see any harm in them leaving: the trip had been quiet and uneventful. Four of you came along as protection that wasn't even necessary.

Even so, at first you thought Joel would protest. But when his brother decided on his plan, Joel had even offered them the truck, saying "I would probably have done the same thing." A sentence that knocked the wind out of you.

Maria and Tommy each gave Ellie a big hug, and she thanked them for taking her in and getting her back to her family, her tone sincere and eyes a little watery. Ellie went to pack up her things and clean up the camp as you and Joel said goodbye to Tommy and Maria.

"Should only be another day on foot, weather looks like it's gonna hold up," Tommy told you both, glancing up at the clear skies.

"And what if her aunt and uncle... ain't with us anymore?" Joel asked, side-eyeing Ellie to make sure she wasn't listening.

"She was telling me a little bit about them when I asked her where they lived. Which reminds me-" Maria reached into her pack to pull out her map with detailed instructions on how to get to the house, and handed it to Joel. "They sounded like preppers. She said he had what sounded like a bunker, with weapons and cameras and shit. So when you get close, keep an eye out. They don't sound like they take kindly to strangers."

Joel nodded, shoving the map into his pack and sliding it back over his shoulders.

"Alright, then. See you in a week or so," Joel said, giving Tommy another handshake before turning around to help Ellie clean up camp. You gave them both a quick hug one more time.

"You gonna be okay?" Maria asked you once Tommy jumped into the drivers seat of the truck.

"Yeah, of course. Just take care of yourself," you said with a smile.

"I will. And remember: think about what I told you," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "You can't let fear run your life."

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks."

She gave you one last smile before climbing into the cab. They gave you all a quick wave as they made their way back North, the silence that they left behind suddenly deafening.

"You ready?" Joel asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You could feel it. The chasm between you was threatening to grow bigger again, pulling you apart just when you were starting to feel like you made a little progress.

"Yep," you said, adjusting the backpack on your shoulders.

Ellie was unusually quiet as you made your way down Route 89, passing signs along the way for the Grand Canyon. Any other time, you would beg Joel to take a detour so you could see it, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You ever been?" you asked Ellie, nodding towards the sign on the side of the road.

"Yeah, once," she said. "The summer before it happened."

You nodded, understanding she was referring to the outbreak and most likely, one of the last few good memories she had with her parents.

"You?" she asked, and you shook your head.

"I grew up in Chicago, that's pretty far from here. My parents didn't go on many vacations," you explained.

"How about you, Joel?" Ellie asked, and you smiled at her obvious attempt at bonding.

"Never saw it, either," he said gruffly. You looked at him in surprise. You had just assumed he would have seen it at some point in his life.

"Did you - are you from Chicago, too?" she asked, surprised that he didn't snap at her for once.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Me and Tommy grew up in Texas."

"That's not too far away from here. Would you ever go back to visit?"

Joel scoffed and shook his head.

"It's a big state, kid. Would probably take two weeks to get to Austin from here," he said. "Besides, nothin' left there for me anyway. I was livin' in New York City, moved there when I was 24."

You remained quiet; shocked and pleasantly surprised at how open Joel was being with Ellie. You could tell she was happy, too, by the way she was asking more questions to keep him talking.

By the end of the day, you had made it to the city limits of Phoenix. Joel had found a somewhat secluded area near a small stream to set up camp, deciding to venture into the city in the morning. Once you felt confident Ellie had fallen asleep, you wandered out to find Joel keeping first watch, sitting against a tree. You cleared your throat quietly as you approached, but he already knew you were there.

"Hey," you said softly, leaning up against the tree.

"You should get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow," he replied without looking at you.

"I know. Just came to see if you wanted to talk about it."

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight on the ground.

"Not much to say," he replied distantly.

You could tell you weren't going to get much out of him, so you nodded and pushed yourself off the tree, turning to head back to camp.

"Do you think you could ever change your mind?" he asked you suddenly. You stopped and turned around. Your chest ached at the way he looked at you, eyes all wide and soft and hopeful.

"I'm trying," you whispered. And you meant it.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8

[rutschsblog]

i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

Part One | Part Two

He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

[rutschsblog]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Part Two | Part Three

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with Natalie for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

[rutschsblog]

once again in your arms

joel miller x f!reader

A/N: mwahah, hello boys i’m baaack (10 points to whoever knows what movie that quote's from). took an unexpected break coz life, but i’m ready to get back on track. this was requested by a beautiful anon a while back (sorry for the wait angel), but i hope you enjoy! x

Request: hello! so this is kinda angsty: joel and the reader are married and have a baby (plus sarah, obviously). the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

Word count: 4.5k-ish

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, birth and having a baby, domestic fluff, angst, pre and post outbreak, some spoilery things if you haven’t seen the show yet, heartbreak, loss of a child, apocalypse things, i sweat at the idea of caring for a baby during the end of the world, soft reunions, fluff, cameos of my fave oc’s made in a different series

It’s a fact you had learnt in the very early days of your relationship... the Miller men knew how to care for a lady. Whether it was Tommy sliding in to open the door for you before you could reach for the handle, or Joel draping you in blankets and taking on the responsibility of keeping your hot water bottle warm to fend off cramps for the evening, not a moment went by when you didn’t feel the constant reassurance of their care.

Especially now, fresh from the hospital and tender from your days of excruciating pain and an extensively long labour, Tommy quickly slaps the pillows into something plusher, hands gentle as they guide you down until you’re reclining into the armchair.

Joel keeps an eye on you from across the room, the brief wash of concern slipping away with the easy smile that grows along his lips when your eyes meet.

He rocks the wrapped bundle in his arms softly, a big hand dwarfing the small head that peaks from the blankets. His fingers brush through the light smattering of hair peeking out from the cotton burrito, his index running along the tiny peak of a nose and you feel your heart swell in your chest.

“Dad,” Sarah whines with an eager smile, shifting restlessly on the couch, “come on, I’ve been waiting all weekend.”

“Oh my god,” Joel drawls sarcastically, “all weekend? Baby girl, how are you survivin’ right now?”

“Shut up,” her grin widens, “give me my baby brother before I explode.”

“Well, we don’t want that mess all in the livin’ room,” Joel quips, stepping over your weekend bags tossed on the floor and closer to the couch, “ain’t treadin’ your brain all into the rug—thing was damn expensive.”

Sarah shrugs, readjusting her body to sit straighter and holding her arms out expectantly, “Least I have a brain.”

Tommy snorts in amusement, grinning at his brother's expense, “That’s true.”

“Are you still here?” Joel side eyes him, barely fighting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

They bicker, throwing their little snippy sibling comments back and forth before Sarah clears her throat, her eyebrows rising in impatience.

“Alright, alright. Here, watch his head,” Joel instructs gently, a smile playing along his lips, “that’s it, baby, you got him.”

It’s a beautiful picture, Sarah carefully bringing the baby closer and tucking him carefully into her arms, and the sentiment is shared with Tommy as the flash and click of a camera goes off. He removes the polaroid sliding from the slot and sits it on the coffee table to develop before instructing Joel to slide in next to her and smile.

Both Joel and Sarah are oblivious to his instruction, lost in the bubble that has overcome them. You find peace watching them, warmth spreading along your limbs by the sweet tenderness of it all. The love is clear between the three of them cuddled on the couch, and it’s almost too much for your heart to bear.

Sarah beams down at her baby brother, cooing soft words and stroking a gentle finger down Matthew’s cheek. Joel throws an arm to rest on the top of the couch behind Sarah, turning into her and answering her questions quietly.

8 pounds, 3 ounces. Smaller than you. No, he didn’t cry at all—gave me and the docs a damn heart attack. She sure did a great job. 

Your Joel was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the emotion shines from his eyes, bleeds through the lines in his face and it’s enough to bring tears building along your lash line.

“You okay over there?”

His familiar drawl brings your attention to him, and you smile at him, tired and fully at peace. It’s bliss, despite the ache of birth still hanging in your limbs. M

“I’m fine,” you respond quietly, lids heavy with exhaustion, “I’m just so happy.”

He fucking beams. His grin creases his cheeks and he nods softly.

“Me too, honey,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his children and playing with a strand of Sarah’s hair as he gazes down at Matthew, “me too.”

—

Four months later.

Chaos.

Matthew wails against your chest, the deafening sounds of screams, bullets, sirens and explosions setting him off into hysterics. Your arms tighten around him, keeping his face tucked closely into your throat so your scent could hopefully provide him some reassurance.

You crouch beside cars, you run until your legs ache. You take cover in stores, the soles of your shoes crunching over broken glass of the shattered windows. Every phone you try gives nothing but a dull tone. Radios are filled with static and emergency broadcasts play on the view screens you run past in your effort to escape whatever the hell is happening.

Worry stirs along the edges of your mind. Is Joel okay? Sarah? Tommy? You can’t call him, you can only run and hope nothing takes you down in your effort to get back to your car. You pass people crouched over others, blood smearing along their lips as they tear unforgivingly into the flesh of another.

It’s a nightmare, and it’s everywhere you look.

Almost there.

You see the sign of the parking lot and it only makes you run that much faster, even though your legs threaten to give out at any minute. You pass an elderly man crouching beside a woman, blood flowing from the open gash on her throat, and the ache clutching your heart only increases when his pleas reach your ears over the mayhem.

“Gloria,” he mutters in an aged rasp, “up you get, love. You’re alright, come on now—”

You can’t help it.

Somewhere in your mind you can feel Joel screaming at you to keep running, to get yourself to safety and not give a damn about anyone other than Matthew, but the image of this man cradling his wife’s wrinkled, bloodied hand is enough to get you advancing to him before anyone could hurt him. 

“Sir—”

He ignores you, too busy with brushing the woman’s blood soaked white hair from her face.

“Sir, we have to move—”

You wrap your fingers around his shoulder and shake firmly. His head gives a shake of denial as he clutches his wife’s hand tighter.

“No… no, she’ll need help—she has a bad ankle.”

Shifting Matthew unsteadily onto your hip, your fingers wrap under his arm and tug him onto his feet. He fights you, bats your hold away with an infuriated expression at your rough handling of him.

“I’m so sorry, but she’s gone—we have to run. I—I have a car, please… just come with me, please!”

“I won’t leave her—”

“Please… they’re coming! I—would she want this for you? To die like this?”

He blinks, his frown softening ever so slightly before screams pierce the air, much closer than you anticipated, and terror claws up your throat until you feel you’ll vomit.

You hold out a hand, relieved when his own rough, calloused hand finally takes it, and then you’re running, albeit slower than before, but you make it to your car with no issues.

You dive into the driver's seat, passing Matthew over to the stranger when he makes an impatient gesture to hold him and then you’re tearing out of the lot, running down the few rabid looking beings that advance on you with bloodied expressions of hunger.

You don’t think you take a proper breath until you’re past a military barricade that had seemingly been destroyed in the attack, flying down the highway and around other panicked drivers with sweat slicking your skin. 

Taking a deep breath to slow the brutal pounding of your heart, you look at Matthew, now calmed and looking up at the stranger with an obvious shine of curiosity. The old man is clearly softened by the baby, letting his small hand wrap around his finger and wiggling it playfully in his hold.

“That’s Matthew,” you mutter shakily, meeting the eyes of the elderly man before gazing back out the windscreen. You take another breath before giving your own name, tears biting at your eyes when you utter the name Miller.

Do you still have a husband? A step daughter? A brother in law? The unknown scares you, outright fucking terrifies you. 

The man nods in your peripheral vision.

“Harold,” he finally says, voice rough and tired.

—

There are people everywhere, screaming, crying.

People run, shout, wail over family and friends.

Tears have long dried on his face, his head thumping relentlessly with the remnants of his heartbreak. Tommy’s grip is firm on him, tugging him out of the way of people tearing down in their direction, pulling him to where a makeshift table is thrust under a tent as a reception of sorts.

He doesn’t care about the people already there asking about their family and friends. He shoves them out of the way, hands shaking as they clutch the edge of the weak table.

“I’m lookin’ for a woman… she’d be with a baby boy, not even four months old—”

His voice shakes. He can’t get it to stop. He struggles to get out the detailed descriptions of you both down to the clothes you were wearing, speaking your names through trembling lips. His stomach jolts at the thought of you somewhere, lying helplessly on the floor with your flesh getting torn into while Matthew screams in his car seat.

He’s a damn baby. He wouldn’t know what’s happening, wouldn’t know why his mama’s not there with him—

The woman gives a small expression of sympathy over the thin surgical mask covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve had no babies that young come through, and nothing like that has come in over the radios.”

He retches. 

His body heaves, almost as if it’s rejecting the mere idea that you weren’t somewhere safe waiting for him. He had failed. Failed to keep Sarah safe, failed to keep Matthew safe, you—the vows he had made now meant shit. He hadn’t been there for better or worse. He’d hadn’t done what a father should have and kept his kids free from harm.

Sarah had died, terrified and in agony, in his hold. Her bloodied handprints remain dry and caked on his arms. Matthew had died, not even making it to six months. A baby, still fresh to the world, only just able to hold his own head up. You had died, not knowing where he and Sarah were, if they were even safe.

Tommy hauls him to a close trash can, rubbing a firm hand up and down his back as he chokes on vomit, tears soon streaming down his cheeks when his body eventually has nothing left to give. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering against his ribs and filling his ears until he’s unaware of the noises around him. 

“They’re gone,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching at the rim of the trash can in an effort to keep himself up.

“Now we don’t know that—”

“God damn it, Tommy, you saw what it was like out there!” 

Tommy sighs, his own eyes filling with tears. “We gotta keep hope, Joel—”

“Hope?” Joel spits at his brother, “What good is hope against that shit out there? She would’ve been alone, you know as well as I Matthew only would’ve slowed her down. They were in the city. We couldn’t even keep safe out here! They’re—they’re gone. My wife… my baby boy, my baby girl—”

The sobs tear from his chest, harsh and painful. He mourns for hours, unseeing of the flurried movement still happening around him, his sorrow mixing with the flood of agony filling the makeshift safe zone with every new unhurt civilian looking for someone familiar.

Tommy doesn’t take his arms away from around his brother until dawn starts to pierce the horizon, 

—

Two years later.

He still fills your thoughts daily.

Your life, your old life, would flash behind your eyelids at night when sleep would finally claim you. You’d feel his touch, kiss his lips, touch his face. It all felt so normal. The dreams would be nothing but memories, and somehow, it made them feel more like nightmares.

Mornings making breakfast with Sarah, dancing to the music falling from the radio. Family game nights, watching Tommy and Joel get more and more competitive with each game. Grocery shopping with Joel, simply wandering down the aisles and relishing in his comforting touch warming your lower back. 

You could never quite make peace with the possibility that he was dead. It didn’t sit right. The idea that your Joel had been lost to the disaster that had claimed the world just seemed impossible. Your heart rejected the notion, refused to accept that its counterpart wasn’t somewhere out there, living, breathing, surviving,

Sarah and Tommy, too.

They had to be somewhere, holed up safely and keeping well. They had to.

“They’ve established a quarantine zone close by,” you say quietly, mindful of Matthew sleeping on your lap, “it’ll be a lot safer there than out here. I think we should give it a go… find a more secure place to live. I’ve heard they have work available, good flow of food and medicine…”

Harry snorts quietly, shifting under his old, thick jacket, “That doesn’t mean they’re happy giving it out. There’ll be a catch somewhere.”

You eye the long carved frown in his features and lean forward to fix the blanket covering his tired legs, “Don’t you think we should try at least?”

“Maybe they’ll put a bullet in me,” Harry grumbles moodily, “I’m old—I can’t work like they’ll want me to. Although, it’ll beat living through this bloody nightmare any longer.”

“Harold,” you chide softly, heart aching at the thought of losing the grumpy old man after spending so long by his side.

He’d quickly become a grandfather figure of sorts, to both you and Matthew. The little boy was obsessed with him, and had been since the day you had come together, and though he tried to hide it behind his usual icy facade, Harry was smitten, weak from the boy learning to call him pa.

“He’ll be safer in there,” Harry finally grumbles, gazing at the sleeping toddler. “This is no life for him out here. It’s getting worse and worse. Stability will do him good.”

“And you’ll come with us?”

He sighs sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine—I’ll come. But if they don’t kill me, I’ll be bloody upset with you.”

You snort in amusement, a grin curling your lips. “Fair enough. Now drink your soup.”

“I’m not hungry. You have it.”

He shoves it away, pushing it in your direction, as he usually does. It’s a daily fight—him refusing food in favour of giving you and Matthew more, ensuring you both never went hungry despite his own hunger and rapid weight loss due to the sudden lack of food.

You give him a playful frown and hold the small cup out to him.

“Don’t make me force feed you, old man, drink it.”

—

The walls of the Quarantine Zone are a lot more daunting than you had originally thought they would be. They tower high, and the barely there movement of soldiers along the front and top of it have nerves start to build in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Surely they wouldn’t shoot without asking questions? Would they even give you a chance? What happens to you if the zone is full? Would they let you go on your merry little way?

God, you feel sick. 

The ice creeping along your skin doubles, and you tighten your grip on the baby carrier strapped to your chest. Matthew hums quietly against your back, his little fingers tracing random patterns along your shirt as he bounces with your each step. Harry walks somewhat steadily beside you, his cheeks reddening with the more distance you cover.

He gives you a reassuring nod when you look to him for guidance, and you continue forward, swallowing the lump building in your throat when you become aware of them yelling about your presence.

Their guns are raised when you eventually make it closer, and it’s automatic to throw your hands up in surrender.

“We’re not infected!” you shout, hoping they’d listen. 

A soldier steps forward. “On the ground, now!”

“Shit. Okay! Please, I—we’re not infected—”

“Get. On. The. Ground!”

“I have a kid! I have a—please, we’re not—”

“Get the kid out.”

Panic flares to life in your chest. You fight the tremble in your fingers as they raise to the clip across your chest, winding a supportive hand around to your back to keep Matthew from falling out of the carrier as it loosens from your torso.

After a bit of shifting, Matthew stands on shaky legs, his eyes darting between you and the few soldiers with their weapons raised.

“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe softly, “we gotta do what the man says, okay? Can you do that for mama?”

You continue to lower until your front hits the rubble covered ground, and you motion for Matthew to do the same, heart breaking as he cowers in fear and falls to his knees before copying your posture and hiding his face against the road.

More voices fill your ears, the obvious presence of more soldiers swarming from the gate causing your pulse to skyrocket as Harry lowers on the other side of the small toddler.

“Check ‘em.”

“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, keeping your gaze on Matthew and smiling when he peeks at you from between his fingers, “we’re okay. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It stings.

You automatically flinch away from the device someone holds at your neck, freezing when more weapons are raised in your direction. The device gives a small beep and the soldier gives a loud clear, before moving for Matthew.

He cries out at the pain, his chest heaving with his growing sobs. The guns move in his direction and you’re flying towards him before you can even think, yelping when arms pull you away from your baby before you can console him. His screams worsen. 

“Please,” you beg, “he’s just a baby—!”

The soldiers remain emotionless.

Another beep, another clear.

The fingers digging into your arms loosen and then you’re free, hurriedly crawling on all fours until Matthew’s in your arms, his tear stricken face pressing into your throat. You soothe him softly, murmuring how well he did and that he’s safe with you while the soldiers move their attention to Harry.

When the device gives a final clear, another soldier steps forward, a small smile stretching his lips.

“Sorry about that,” he says, stepping forward until he’s only a step away, “but we can’t be too careful.”

It’s surreal being around people again.

For the longest time, it’s just been you, Matthew and Harry. The people left after the event had turned cruel, desperate for any remaining resources and resulting to violence left, right and centre. It’d been sheer luck that you three had escaped some of the nastier characters you’d come across during your treks. Sure, you’d lost a few supplies every now and then, but you were thankful you all were still here at least.

The man leads you into an office of sorts, with rusted old chairs to sit on while he goes about ‘registering’ you. You’re surprised at the process of it all, confused when he says you’re in luck because after this morning, there are new rooms available. What does that mean? Had something happened to the occupants?

Your stomach turns, but you dare not dwell on it.

Safety for Matthew, that’s all that matters. That’s why you’re here.

It feels like hours before you’re stepping into the sun again, lead out onto a relatively normal looking street with written directions to your new accommodation. The door bangs loudly behind you, fully closing you from the horrors of the outside world, and you try not to focus on the looks of curiosity, borderline hostility, as you start to walk further into the QZ, the height of the wall casting a large shadow over your path.

There’s a main square of sorts, filled with small stations of people selling various items. Your stomach grumbles at the sight of shitty looking food, desperate to eat something other than the random old bits and pieces you’d find through your looting, but you’d have to begin work to even afford a single half burnt bread roll. The two ration cards you had received at your ‘registration’ wouldn’t make a dent in what you’d need to afford any of it.

You pass the sellers, sharing a sullen look with Harry as he too realises he wouldn’t have enough for any of it.

There’s crowds, and you try to keep to yourself as you move, but something catches your eye, as if your sight had been automatically pulled to that direction and you’re oblivious to the people bumping into your frame.

For a moment, you’re sure you’re dreaming.

Did they end up shooting you at the gate? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be unfolding right before your very eyes. You feel alive. You feel your pulse, your breath. You feel Matthew shift in the carrier, you hear Harry making comments about the people and the surrounding buildings.

You can’t look away.

You’re pulled in his direction, certain with every bone in your body that it’s him. It’s him.

The man turns, and his eyes are meeting yours through the crowds before you can even brace for it, and you see the moment it hits him.

He freezes, his eyes unblinking as if they don’t want to risk losing the hallucination his mind had conjured. He steps forward, and again, and again, slow in his movements, cautious.

“Joel?” You breathe, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the bustle of your surroundings and the distance between you, but he must see your lips mould his name because then he’s running, ducking through the people and heading straight your way.

You start to jog, careful not to disturb the carrier holding Matthew too much, and then he’s there. He’s there and he’s real and he’s saying your name so sweetly, a broken rasp of disbelief and a tremble taking over his hands as they raise to cup your cheeks.

You sob at his touch. 

The tears flow from your eyes and you grasp at whatever you can on him, your fingers tightening around the jacket hanging from his frame as you attempt to pour two years of loss into your embrace. He cradles the back of your head, keeps your face pressed tightly against the dirtied skin of his throat as he mutters brokenly about how he thought you were dead and that he’d missed you so damn much.

“Oh baby boy,” he rumbles, noticing the baby carrier and the toddler within it with tears filling his lash line, “look at you.”

You hurriedly unclip the harness and sweep Matthew out of it, bringing him into the middle of your embrace. Joel runs a hand along Matthew’s cheek before sweeping down and kissing him on the forehead, his tears dropping over the toddler’s cheeks in obvious relief and utter joy. 

“How—”

You shake your head, nuzzling into the rough hand holding your cheek. “Later. We’ll talk later about everything, I just—god, I’ve missed you so fucking much, Joel.”

His head lowers until his forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes flutter closed. You feel it in the simple gesture, how much he had missed you, mourned for you. He gives a small nod, followed by a quiet okay, before another presence suddenly makes themselves known.

Your body jolts with the weight hitting your side, and you jump in fright before your eyes come across a slightly skinny looking Australian Shepherd desperate for attention.

His tongue lolls from his mouth as he attempts to lap at your cheek, and you chuckle through your stream of steady flowing tears at the cheerful dog.

“Chip,” Joel grunts in slight annoyance, shoving the fluffy beast away from where he tries to jump and sniff at Matthew’s cheeks, “down—down, boy!”

“You have a dog?” You ask in curiosity, reaching out to pet the animal. Your smile widens when he eagerly nuzzles into your touch with an excited whine.

“He was wanderin’ the QZ when I came in,” Joel replies, one of his hands leaving your waist to deliver a rough rub to the dogs head, “followed me home one night and hasn’t stopped botherin’ me since. Tommy said he’d be good for me.”

“Tommy’s here? And Sarah?” You perk immediately in excitement, your eyes flying past his shoulder to look for his brother and the other part of your heart that’s been missing for years. “I’m so glad they’re alright, where are they?”

You don’t notice how considerably quiet he’s gone until you look at him. He’s defeated, guarded, his dark eyes drawn to the floor. He can’t look at you. Why can’t he look at you? What’s happened?

“Joel?”

“Sarah… she—she—”

He struggles to finish the sentence, the words stick uncomfortably on his tongue. His features twist in clear anguish and you feel the world around you shatter. Sarah, she… she’s gone? When? How?

Your heart sinks, weak and broken by the unexpected news. Your mind struggles to wrap itself around the notion that you’d never see her again, that the last time you saw her was truly the last. 

Regret begins to build in the pit of your stomach. That last day… you should’ve hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead, told her how much she meant to you and how lucky you were to be in her life—

The tears begin again.

“Oh Joel, I-I’m so sorry,”

You both share the heartache, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in the other. His tight hold doesn’t loosen for a second, and you attempt to put every ounce of energy in your tired body into returning it.

The world stands still, just like it did that cursed day.

How can you be so elated that he’s here, and yet be filled with so much pain at the same time? How long has he been lost, no doubt blaming himself for his baby girl not making it to where he is now? You mourn her, mourn him for being lost, stuck on a path of despair and believing he had lost everything for so long.

What had become of him? What had the pain done to him? Surely it would’ve been pure torture for the man who practically breathed family. 

Harry can wait. Introductions can wait. Food, drink, sleep—you care for none of it. Not now. All that matters is that Joel is here, truly here in the flesh, wrapped in your arms and holding the child he hasn’t seen for two years. All that matters is that you had found one another in the violent hellscape the world had become.

Peace, but that tranquillity will forever be tainted by loss, a void hanging in the midst of relief, never to be filled again.

-

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tags that have continuously not worked will be deleted from my taglist soon x

[rutschsblog]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Part Two | Part Three

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with Natalie for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

[rutschsblog]

joel miller | shelter

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

note: this can be read as part two of survive

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+. please do not continue if you're uncomfortable with discussions surrounding rape/sexual assault, violence, blood, and cannibalism. spoilers.

synopsis: after the events of episode eight in which reader takes ellie's place as david's hostage, joel finds a cabin where he can take care of you in the middle of the woods. hurt, comfort, and fluff ensues. reader x joel, reader x ellie, and joel x ellie interactions, but mostly joel cleaning you up after a horrific experience.

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck

It feels like you’re walking for miles before you find the abandoned, dusty cabin in the middle of the woods.

Your teeth chatter as Joel leads you inside, Ellie following behind. The smell is stale and it isn’t much warmer, but you’re out of the snow and that’s enough for now. When you see snow, you see blood, too. 

“Alright, here we go,” Joel says, propping his gun against a ratty couch and looking around. 

Ellie shuts the door on the howling wind, raising her brows. “Not bad.”

“Let’s see if we can find anything to clean up with.” Joel begins searching the small cupboards above a sink still stacked with plates. 

You don’t know what to do, don’t know how to think about anything but the blood in your hair. His blood. You need it off you, need to rid yourself of any hint that he ever existed, ever hurt you. Absently, you scratch your arms and wander over to the fireplace. Charred tinder and ash sit in the hearth, and beside it, a pile of logs have been stacked haphazardly. You throw a couple in and shrug off your backpack, your fingers trembling as you find a lighter. Anything to help you feel something other than this yawning emptiness, this black hole, this disgust and this fear. 

“Fuck, yeah!” Ellie exclaims, yanking her gloves off and warming her hands. You offer a wry smile, perching on the closest couch and trying to focus on the orange glow. 

But then you think of the candles in the restaurant. The way you set David alight with them. The stench of burning clothes and hair as you walked away. 

You close your eyes, your fingers curling so tightly into your palms that they leave marks behind. 

“Hey,” Ellie says softly, kneeling in front of you. “You’re safe now, y’know?”

“I know, kiddo.” You put on a brave face for her benefit, though she’s smart enough to know you’re not okay. “Thanks.”

“What did… What did he do to you?” 

Before you can answer, Joel’s stern voice echoes around the cabin. “Ellie, go see what you can find. There should be a bathroom, washcloths, somethin’.”

Sighing, Ellie offers you a kind expression, which you return, and then she disappears into the next room. 

You cast Joel an impatient look. “You don’t have to do that.” You push off the couch and wander over to him. “How’s your wound? Any pain?”

His jaw ticks, and he shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“You need to rest.” It was hard to believe he was still standing at all, and you hadn’t missed his bloody knuckles. You wonder what he’d done, who he’d beat just to get to you. James, maybe, and the men David threatened would find them. It’s a miracle any of you are here. 

“You need to drink.” Joel pulls a bottle of water from his pack and hands it to you, watching you carefully like he’s just waiting for you to break. “I’ll go hunting first thing tomorrow. Get you some food.”

You think of the ear in the kitchen, the meat on the plate David offered you, and your stomach turns. Using the counter for support, you take a steady breath. 

“Baby…” Joel is there in an instant, his hand caressing the small of your back. 

“I’m okay,” you lie. 

He hesitates a moment. “Did he…?”

You know what he’s asking. Did he rape you? “No. No. He tried.” A wave of anguish rolls up in you, so thick in your throat that you feel like you might throw up again. “I slaughtered him, Joel. I… I couldn’t stop. There was so much blood.”

Joel’s nostrils flare with suppressed anger, but he pulls you closer, smoothing down your matted, tangled hair. “He deserved it.” 

“I didn’t think I was getting out of there,” you admit, voice cracking with tears. 

“You did, darlin’.” He sighs, wrapping his arms around you. “You got out. I've got you now. You’re safe.”

You’ve never accepted comfort so readily before, always desperate to prove to Joel that you can be just as strong as him, that you can carry his burdens as well as your own. But you’re losing your grip tonight; on yourself and on everything that you know. Something has changed in you after seeing the monstrosities that men like David can commit. It’s like he’s poisoned you, and you can feel it creeping beneath your skin. 

Ellie reappears from the other room, waving a bottle of what looks to be shampoo in her hand. “The bathroom’s well-stocked. And I’m calling dibs on the bed, by the way.”

“Like hell you are,” Joel grumbles, giving you a final squeeze before urging you forward. “C’mon. We’ll clean you up now.”

***

You look in the grimy mirror and don’t recognise yourself. Blood is splattered all over your face, clothes, hair. Your wrists are blistered, angry red welts covering your skin where you tried to wriggle out of your rope ties. 

Joel has sent Ellie back into the other room to warm up more water, and you’re glad for that. 

“You mind if I check that cut on the back of your head first?” Joel asks gently. 

You shake your head, watching his reflection as he moves behind you and separates through your hair to see your injury. You don’t remember how you got it now. You were knocked out by James, but David gave you a beating too before you…

You give a sharp intake of breath as the memories flood back again, and Joel pulls away quickly. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No. You didn’t.” You swallow. “I was just… remembering.” 

Understanding crosses his features. “Sit down,” he offers, as though he knows that you can’t bear to be haunted by your reflection for a moment longer. You do, perching on the edge of the bath. He goes back to checking your injury. 

“It’s not too deep,” he murmurs, his touch feather-light. “Should be okay once we get it clean. ‘S it hurt a lot?”

“No.” Nothing hurts, though you know it should. You can barely focus on anything but the aching heaviness in your chest, the unease in your stomach, the thought that you’ll have to live with this now. Knowing that the world is even more broken than you thought, and it almost killed you. 

“Gonna clean your face first. That okay?”

You nod, and he rolls up his sleeves as he kneels in front of you, wringing out a washcloth in the sink of water he’d warmed by the fire. You want to tell him you can do it yourself, but you can’t. You don’t want to be left alone in this bathroom. You don’t want to watch the blood drip into the water. You don’t want Joel to leave you when you thought you’d lost him for good not too long ago. 

Carefully, he runs his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. “I should'a got there quicker.”

“You were a little busy trying not to die,” you remind him. You take his hand, finally allowing yourself to acknowledge his bruised and bloody knuckles. “They came for you, too?”

He grimaces, pulling away as though ashamed. “Don’t you worry about that. I took care of it.” 

“You always do,” you say, throat feeling raw. “You always take care of us.”

He softens, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You took care of yourself just fine today, baby You shouldn’t have had to, and I’m so… I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that. Please.” Tears slip down your cheeks. “It isn’t your fault. Please don’t make this your burden, Joel. This one… this is all mine, and I’ll gladly take it if it means you and Ellie’re okay.”

“We ain’t okay if you’re not.” He wipes your tears away. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you.” Now it’s his voice that fractures, and it leaves you sinking with pain. His pain and your own. “I was so scared. Could barely breathe. I’m never letting that happen again, you hear?”

You can only dip your head as you choke on a sob, wishing you could be stronger. Wishing all of this was easier. 

Joel begins dabbing your face with the washcloth, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You close your eyes when you see it come away red, trying to focus on the water lapping in the sink when he rinses it and squeezes it out. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Close your eyes. Let me take care of it.” 

You do, and his touch keeps you grounded, keeps you from slipping back into that cage, or worse, back into David’s arms. For a moment, you’re not in an abandoned cabin, twenty years into a pandemic. For a moment, you’re home, letting the man you love take care of you without guns or threat; with only a washcloth and a tender hand. 

He’s careful against your bruise, and he doesn’t leave any spot unclean; your jaw, your neck, behind your ears. 

“Almost done,” he promises, but you wouldn’t mind if it took all night. 

He lets the water swirl down the drain when he’s done, and Ellie comes in soon after with another heated pan. 

“Thanks, kiddo,” you say, blinking the droplets from your eyelashes. 

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

Joel gives her a warm smile and squeezes her shoulder. “We got it covered. Go get the couch ready. You know, since you’re sleeping there tonight.”

She groans in a very teenagerly way, trudging out of the bathroom as though she hasn’t spent many a night on forest floors. You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and Joel smirks at the sound.

“Pain in the ass," he comments with more adoration than annoyance.

“You love her and you know it.”

He only hums, grabbing a cup. “Lean your head back for me.”

You do, feeling renewed when the water trickles down your scalp and into the dirty bathtub. It reminds you of being a kid again, not yet old enough to wash your own hair. Somehow, the nostalgia leaves you emotional, and you’re trying not to cry again. 

“Hey, hey,” Joel says, putting the cup down. When you sob, he breathes, “I know. I know. C’mere.”

He pulls you into his chest without caring about how you dampen his shirt, and you clutch onto him as the grief, the terror, all rush through you. You can’t control it. It’s been pent up for too long, and this is your last straw. The thing that has pushed you over the rocky edge. 

Joel only whispers again and again: “I know. You’re okay, baby. I got you.”

***

Later, after you have stopped crying for long enough to let Joel shampoo your hair and the fire has died to embers you can’t risk rekindling, you crawl into your sleeping bed on top of the double mattress that Ellie so desperately wanted to sleep in. You smell like strawberries, and your skin is brand new, having scrubbed it top to bottom once Joel left the bathroom. You’re wearing one of the shirts he picked up at Bill and Frank’s over your own sweater, and it carries his musk, his warmth. 

Joel is looking out of the windows. After so much danger, you know it’s hard for him to settle. To believe that you might just be okay for one night.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” The room is dark, but you see him glance your way, eyes shiny in the moonlight. 

“Come to bed. Please.”

His brows furrow, and he sits on the mattress slowly. “I can take the floor if you don’t want—”

“I do. I do want.”

“You don’t think I should keep watch?”

“I think we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. Only things that’ll be bothering us here are the birds and the deer.” You regret bringing that up as soon as it leaves your mouth. You think of the deer you hunted, the thing that brought you to David, and stiffen. 

Joel must sense it, because he slouches in resignation and kicks off his boots. “Okay. Just for a little bit.”

You scooch over in your sleeping bag in the hopes he’ll understand what you need. 

He does. He slips in, holding an arm out so you can curl into him, so you do. His chest is warm, breaths steady, and if you can just stay like this for a while, maybe you’ll be okay again. 

“Sleep, darlin’,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll be right here.”

“Do you think we’ll make it through this in the end?” you wonder aloud. “Ellie, the cure… if we make it out alive, if all this turns out to be worth it, what will we do afterwards? Where will it leave us? We can’t go back to Boston.”

“We don’t have to worry about that now.” He strokes your arm, and goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“I need something to hold onto, Joel,” you admit. “I need to imagine it won’t always be this bad.”

Moments pass, the silence a cold, unwelcome blanket across you. But then Joel folds it away. “When this is over, we’ll go back to Jackson. You, me, and Ellie. We’ll get us a real house, live a boring life with Tommy. Go watch movies and yell at Ellie for being a little shit.”

You snort at that, and her voice echoes from the front room: “I can hear you!” 

“Go to sleep!” Joel yells back. 

“I would if I wasn’t lying on an old uncomfortable couch with the fucking fleas!” 

You roll your eyes, rubbing his chest lovingly. “Just get in here and stop complaining!”

“Seriously?” he murmurs, though there is no surprise there; only something warm, amused. If you can find that after a day like today, you can find it anywhere, you think. 

Before you can reply, Ellie’s hopeful face appears in the shadows. She clutches her sleeping bag, a cheeky grin on her face. “Shift over, old man.”

Joel glares, but he pulls you closer so that Ellie can lie on the other side of you. You wrinkle your nose as she jumps onto the bed, kicking herself into her sleeping bag with little grace. He huffs and puffs, murmuring into your ear, “Regret it yet?”

“No,” you say, and you’re not just talking about the offer for Ellie to join you anymore. You pull her into you so that you’re sandwiched by the two people you love most in the world, and finally, with Joel’s warmth at your back and Ellie’s ponytail in your face, you feel safe. 

Joel’s fingers trail up and down your spine as Ellie settles, and they stay there as you slowly fall asleep. 

If this is what Joel’s boring life will be like, you’re ready for Jackson. You’re ready to go home with your family.

[rutschsblog]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to &lt;3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 

The ring of his phone was the break. 

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 

Suddenly, you stand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 

He fucking laughs. 

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 

But he does, of course he does. 

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 

“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 

But it’s you. You’re special. 

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 

But you don’t. 

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 

PART ONE.

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Light On

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon has a new neighbor. His new neighbor has a baby.

Simon Riley/female reader Single mom, neighbors fic. Fics are listed in chronological order

Simon discovers something unexpected Simon realizes where you live Simon gives you a hand Simon comes over for dinner Simon eavesdrops Simon spends time in the garden Johnny learns his LT's secret Simon helps you out last minute Simon gets a phone call Simon accompanies you to the park Simon steps in Simon answers the phone in the middle of the night Simon learns something about you You miss your neighbor Simon's choice has consequences Simon tries to make amends Simon has you over for dinner 🎄Simon helps you and Emmaline pick out a tree Simon shares his space Simon takes you on a proper date Simon confesses his only christmas wish Simon has himself a merry little christmas