#and tess doesn't age much at all

[episims]

Household: Hale

We're back on track! The last time, Paige and Talia grew up, Deanna turned down Esther's persistent attempts to hire her as an assistant, and Tess kept her position as a featured actor, which doesn't pay out enough to afford a pool, but at least their house loan slowly shrinks.

That's it. This is my official chilling household. It's chill.

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[absurdthirst]

The Journey to Jackson {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.3k

Warnings: NON-CON, Coercion, forced copulation, mentions of sterility, medical examinations without consent, forced breeding, threats of death, nipple play, vaginal sex, cock riding, restraints, cream pie, killing, escape, pregnancy, sickness, anxiety attacks, labor, giving birth, breastfeeding, oral sex (female receiving)

Comments: Being taken by a group that has a fertility issue, Joel is forced to procreate with one of the women, you. When he escapes, he brings you with him. Making the journey to Jackson even more perilous.

🚨🚨 DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains elements of forced copulation/NON-CON for the purposes of breeding/forced impregnation. 🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

He had assumed there was a settlement nearby. The closest stores were pilfered of anything and everything that could be used. Making him wary as he set up camp. “No fire tonight.” He grunts when Ellie drops a handful of sticks into the middle of the small clearing. “Aw man, I wanted to clean up!” The teenager pouts, making Joel snort. “It’s not cold, get some water and wash.” He tells her, smirking to himself when she starts grumbling under her breath in typical teenager fashion. He listens for the sound of animals moving, but it’s silent. 

They come in the middle of the night. Joel had settled into a restless sleep, when they had surprised him. Shouting and fighting, the butt of a rifle slams against his forehead right as he hears Ellie shouting for them to let her go. Blacking out into oblivion. 

When Joel wakes up, his head is throbbing and he groans as his eyes flutter open. "Good, you're awake." A male voice sounds out and his instincts kick in as he jerks his body but discovers he's been tied to a chair. 

"Wha- let me go." He growls, voice rough from being knocked out. He needs water but he daren't ask for it. "Where's the kid?" He demands, needing to know that Ellie is safe. 

The man chuckles, "she's being taken care of, don't you worry." He promises.

 Joel hisses, "you better not touch a hair on her fucking head otherwise I'll destroy you." He threatens and the man snorts, "we got your guns, we got your kid, and you're tied up. All you got is your mouth." 

Joel chuckles, his vision clearing as he glances around the room. "That's all I need." He assures him with a cocky chuckle as he assesses the room, his eyes widening slightly when he sees a naked woman standing there, gun pressed against her head. "What - what the fuck is this?" He demands, stomach twisting with unease.

You shake, shivering from the cold and the fear. “I- they-“ the gun presses into your temple harder and you choke out a cry before you answer. “You have to fuck me.” You manage. “What? No.” The man tied to the chair growls out, shaking his head. 

“Yes, you will.” The man with the gun tells him. “All we want is for you to knock her up.” He chuckles darkly. “Shouldn’t be a problem, she’s got a nice set of tits.” His hand not holding the gun slides up to cup one name you flinch. “All you gotta do is let her ride your dick.”

Joel shakes his head, "no. Fuck no. I - let me go. If you let me go now, I promise I won't kill all of you." He chuckles, "actually, I promise I will make it quick." He smirks, allowing himself to act like he isn't freaking out on the inside. You are gorgeous and he hasn't been with a woman since Tess. but he refuses to touch you, especially when you have a fucking gun held to your head. It's clear you don't want this as much as he doesn't want it.

All of the men chuckle. “Big words from a man in your position.” The one holding you snorts. “James…” you whimper, making him growl. 

“Shut up!” He hisses as he shakes you, not wanting this man to know his name. “You know why we are doing this!”

Joel swallows harshly, never liking to see a woman being abused like this. It's clear you aren't doing this voluntarily. "Why are you doing this?" Joel asks, wanting to know what the fuck this is all about. He doesn't want to get you killed but it's every man for himself in this new world.

“We had mumps go through our settlement five years ago.” One of the men tells Joel. “All our men are sterile. Except for those that have joined us. We need kids.”

"We need another father. Can't be inbreeding even in dire times. We need new DNA and we found this one a few weeks ago." He says, nudging you forward. "She can suck your cock if you want her to get you ready. She's good at it." He smirks at you and you wrinkle your nose in disgust at giving him a blow job at gun point. 

"I ain't having any kids. I got the snip." Joel lies, wanting to avoid this situation and get out of here to find Ellie.

The leader, not holding the gun, scoffs. “Too bad we know that ain’t true.” He tells Joel. “Got a doctor that used to do them back when the world wasn’t shit.” He gestures towards Joel’s unbuckled belt and unzipped pants. “No stitch scars. You ain’t been snipped.” He shrugs slightly. “Look, it’s not that hard, you get to blow a few loads inside her and then we’ll let you go.” He lies. “Won’t even make you pay child support.” The laughs are raw and mean as the other men chuckle.

Joel clenches his jaw, fucked off at being violated like that while he was unconscious. He looks over at you, your terrified eyes making him feel sick. "I don't think I can get hard when she's fucking terrified." He says, knowing that he won't get turned on in a room full of other men waiting for him to blow his load.

“She’ll get into the mood.” The one holding you promises, squeezing your tit again. “Won’t you, sweetheart?” 

You wince and nod quickly, aware that the gun at your head is the prime motivation. “Maybe we can be alone?” You beg. “I won’t- I can’t untie him.” You tell them. “Just- you can check to make sure he came inside me, but please, please, don’t make me do this while you watch.” You regret ever coming to this part of this fucking world. Planning on escaping as soon as you can from these twisted monsters. Every one of them needs to be killed and you hope that will happen soon.

The leader nods, "fine. We will leave you alone but any bullshit and you both get a bullet in the head. And you-" He looks at Joel, "your little companion will be taking her place next." He threatens and Joel feels sick, knowing that he has no choice now. It's him or Ellie and Ellie will always be his first choice. 

He nods, "fine. Leave us." He demands. The man holding you shoves you forward and you stumble, the gun leaving your head as they exit the room and you hear the lock click in place.

When the lock clicks, you start crying. “I’m sorry- I don’t- it’s not my-“ you babble, wrapping your arms around your body and turning to the side so you don’t feel so vulnerable. “I’m- I’m ovulating- that’s why they want you to fuck me.” You manage.

Joel flicks his tongue, always uncomfortable when a woman cries and this is no exception. “How did they capture you?” He asks, needing you to calm down.

“I- I was trying to make it to Wyoming.” You shake your head, feeling foolish for ending up in this situation. “I- my family used to have a ranch there. I was in college when the outbreak happened and I’d finally got out of the Kansas City QZ. The rebels took over and I escaped, I was- I got captured when I stopped by the river.”

Joel realizes how close you’ve been traveling alongside him and Ellie and he’s never seen you. “I’m going to Wyoming. My brother…he’s out there. I gotta go west.” He says, “this new world…it’s horrific. Men are monsters. You should’ve never been alone.”

You snort. “Believe me- I know. But I didn’t have anyone.” You bite your lip and look over at the man tied to the chair. “Your girl, she’ll be alright. They won’t touch her. At least not now.” You close your eyes and sigh. “I just want to go home.” You whimper, a daily thought now.

“I’ll get you home.” He promises, knowing he has to give you hope in this situation. “But I really don’t want a kid.” He confesses, “I- I had one and lost one. I know what this world does to them.” He reveals, eyes sad as he looks at you then across the room to preserve your modesty.

“I don’t- I don’t want to have a kid.” You admit quietly. “But I know they will kill us if we don’t.” You reveal. “They found another man a month ago. He couldn’t- they shot him.”

Joel swallows harshly, knowing that there’s no getting out of this. He can’t leave Ellie here. He can’t be killed and leave Ellie alone. She would be killed within hours. Either by these assholes or by someone else. He nods, “then we do what they want.” He says, flexing his fingers still tied together with zip ties.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize breathlessly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I never meant for this to happen.” You choke out, even as you walk towards him. “What do I- can I?”

Joel nods, his cock not remotely hard right now but he has to try. You’re a beautiful woman and he knows that if it wasn’t for the outbreak, he would’ve taken a chance to ask you out. “Do what you want. I can’t move.” He chuckles, trying to help you relax despite his heart pounding in his chest.

“I can- let me-“ you reach for his pants, looking up into his eyes. “Lift your hips for me.” You ask softly. This is a mess, but you’re in it together. “I know they cleaned you up- to prevent infection- do you want me to suck your cock to get you hard?” You ask when his cock is flaccid, flopping out of his underwear ungracefully.

He bites his lip as you loom over him and he swallows harshly, “I, uh, you don’t have to do that. Come sit on my lap and then we can, uh, see how it goes.” He says, not wanting you to feel obligated to suck his cock when you’re unwillingly having sex with him.

“Uh, okay.” You bite your lip and put your hand on his shoulder to straddle his lap. You slide onto his lap and try not to press down on him too much. You murmur your name and look into his eyes. “What’s your name? I figure we should at least introduce ourselves.”

“Joel.” He answers, his eyes on yours but they flick down to your breasts. “Shit. You really are gorgeous. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” He murmurs, feeling guilty for finding you attractive. “What - did you have a boyfriend? Before the outbreak? Or after?”

“A few.” You feel better now. He’s not eyeing you like a piece of meat and he is handsome. “No one for a long time, no point.” You snort. “They either died from the fungus or FEDRA. I was better off alone.”

“You’re not…you’re not a virgin?” He wants to make sure he’s not taking your virginity in the worst possible fucking way. 

“No. No. Not since I was seventeen.” You snort and caress his chest, playing with the buttons of his tatty flannel. 

“Thank fuck. I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone for a while. She, uh, she got bit. Ended up blowing up a building to save me and the kid.”

“Sounds like a woman I would want to get to know.” You admit, thankful that this man isn’t one that would be looking forward to fucking you like this. It tells you more about him than anything he could tell you. “So it could be quick?” You ask, sliding up and cupping his jaw to lean close. “Hold off as long as you can to try to get the ties loose.” You whisper in his ear.

Joel nods, “I wanna take my time, baby girl.” He says loud enough for anyone listening, “been a long time since I had a woman. Wanna enjoy it.” He says despite his eyes portraying anything but enjoyment. He feels guilty even liking the fact that you’re sitting on his lap

His words are meant for the men outside, but for some reason it makes your cunt clench. “It’s- that’s good.” You admit, a little breathless at the rasp of his voice and his rugged looks. He’s handsome. There are worse men you could be forced to fuck. His teeth are still in good condition and you decide to run a finger down the curve of his jaw, letting the stubble rub against your finger. “Maybe I can cum too?”

Joel sees the desire in your eyes and it relaxes him a little. “Of course.” He murmurs, “tell me what you like.” He says, wanting to drag this out a little longer but his cock twitches against your ass as his eyes daringly dip down to your tits, feeling less ashamed of being attracted to you when he can tell you are attracted to him.

“I like having my tits sucked on.” It’s something he could do with his hands bound, so that’s a plus. “And I’m riding, so I really like to grind down on a cock when I’m doing the work.”

“Good. That’s good.” Joel murmurs and licks his lips. “You want me to, uh, suck on your tits?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re wet enough for this while his hands continue working on getting out of the zip ties. You nod and shift closer so your breasts are in his face and he turns his head to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You had resigned yourself to being touched. At least it wasn’t by those assholes, but the pressure of his mouth is the perfect combination of harsh and gentle. Pulling and suckling perfectly to make the bud perk up and ache for attention. On their own, your hands move to his hair, surprisingly not greasy or gritty even though you know he had not been bathed completely. Even at the end of the world and traveling, he apparently took care of hygiene. “Fuck, Joel.”

He loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair. It feels like a lifetime since he had a moment to relax and enjoy something instead of running for his life. He groans into your flesh, his cock twitching under you as he starts to harden as he bites down on your nipple once more.

“Ohhhhh.” Your eyes close, imagining this is because you want it. Your cunt clenches again and there’s a rush of heat. Your hips start to slowly grind down on his hardening cock.

“Shit.” He hisses against your breast and he switches over, enjoying the way you grind down onto him. “Shit, sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing along the swell of your breast as he feels himself getting harder.

He feels thick. A grower. You moan softly when he pulls your other nipple in his mouth. “That feels good.” You admit breathlessly, tugging on his hair and scratching your nails against his scalp.

He grunts, letting himself imagine that this is a different situation and he’s not being forced to knock you up. His fingers dig into his palms as he tries to break the zip ties but fails. He kisses along your chest up to your neck, breathing harshly as he gets harder and harder.

You lower your jaw, noses bumping and your lips brush against each other. “I’m going to kiss you.” You murmur. “Is that okay?”

Joel knows you shouldn’t but he wants it. Want to have some intimacy that you can control when you can’t control the fact that you are having sex with him. He tilts his head so he can press his lips to yours.

As soon as your lips touch, you push your tongue inside his mouth. Wanting to take as much control as you can of the situation. You don’t think he minds. Not the way he’s groaning and his tongue slides against yours. You press close, grinding down on his now completely hard cock.

Your moan into his mouth has him ready for you. His hips jerk up to grind against you, groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. “You ready for me baby?” He asks softly as you pull back for a second.

“Yes.” You could probably be wetter, but he won’t hurt you. You kiss him once more and spit in your hand when you pull back. Reaching between you, you wrap your hand around him and pump. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you clench again as you notch him at your entrance.

He inhales sharply at the feel of your hot flesh starting to engulf him as you start to sink down onto his cock. “Fuck.” He hisses, closing his eyes to control himself. It’s been so long since he felt this kind of embrace. He and Tess always used protection that FEDRA would sell in exchange for credits and he hasn’t been with a woman like this since long before outbreak day. “Take it slow. Don’t hurt yourself.” He says softly, eyes opening to watch your expressions.

He’s thick, long, pushing up into you and you're still not completely engulfing him. “Fuck.” You moan quietly, leaning toward and burying your head into his neck. “So big.”

He smirks, unable to conceal the spark of pride at you being slightly breathless at taking him inside of you. “Take it easy.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss along your neck as you slowly rock your hips to take him until your thighs are flush against his. “That’s it. Good girl.” He murmurs, “takin’ me so well.”

Despite his reluctance to do this, his dirty talk is in top form and you clench around his length at the way he coos at you. “Fuck, Joel.” You whimper quietly. “Keep talking and I will cum.”

He groans, wanting to make this good for you when you’ve suffered a terrible fate to get to this point. There’s no way he will let you go now that he’s possibly going to get you pregnant. “So tight around me.” He says, wishing he could touch you. His hands wiggle around the zip ties and he kisses your neck again.

Tilting your head so he can have more access to you, you settle down onto him completely. Feeling him deep inside you, you know that if he were in charge and fucking you harshly, he would rearrange your guts. "So big." you whine softly. "Everything's tight to you." You roll your hips slightly and start to pull up off his length, eager to feel him move inside you.

He kisses along your neck, "take what you want, baby. Want you to feel good. Want you to cum for me." He demands against your skin, "want you to fuckin' soak me." He groans as you rock on top of him.

"Jesus." You never had a man who wanted your pleasure for himself. Most were happy that you just let them fuck you, but you have a feeling that if Joel was in control, that he would be making sure that you were cumming on his tongue or fingers. "I will." You pant quietly.

He still tries to untie his hands, desperate to touch you but you keep distracting him by grinding down onto his cock like it's the last thing you'll do. In this new world, it could be. "Wish I could touch you. Wanna - arch your back for me." He demands and you do as he says so he leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Oh god, it feels so good.” You whimper, loving how he’s twitching inside you every time you clench around him. It’s nothing short of a miracle, it's not rough and dirty. You’ll take the beauty of the moment and be thankful for it, a rarity in your world now.

Your fingers slide through his hair and he groans into your flesh, loving how you clench around him and he wishes he could break free and show you how could he can be, fuck you harder unto you are screaming his name in pleasure. So loud that those motherfuckers outside hear it all. He licks along the swell of your tit and kisses your sternum. “Feel so good, baby girl.” He murmurs, “so good for me.”

“So big.” You moan quietly, circling your hips and lifting off to push back down on him. “You feel so good. So thick.” It’s like having an itch you didn’t realize you had being scratched. It makes you want more, so you speed up.

He groans as you start to rock on his cock, his fingers flexing as he tries to break the zip ties and he breathes harshly through his nose as you rock a little faster. “Take what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

Moaning, you hang on to Joel while sliding one hand down to obey his order. Loving how he’s trying to prioritize your pleasure in these circumstances. Your fingers swirl around your engorged clit and you whimper in pleasure, walls pulsing around him. “Joel.”

He loves the way you moan and whimper his name. “That’s it baby. Make yourself cum. Use me for what you need and then I’ll fill you up like a good girl.” He promises, knowing that the end result will be the same but he wants you to enjoy this before the chaos starts.

His words go straight through you, making you clench down around him while your fingers rub your clit faster. Feeling your orgasm starting to build as you ride his cock. “I’ll be good.” You pant. “I’ll cum, I want to cum for you. Feels so, fuckkkkkkk-” You squeal when Joel snaps his hips up and it pushes you over the edge. Cunt spasming around his cock and soaking him as you cum harder than you have in years

Joel groans as you soak him, clamping down on his cock in a vice tight than anything he’s felt in so long. He pants as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from cumming too soon but it’s been too long. “Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna- oh shit. You need to pull off if you want to go again.”

You know you should prolong it, if he wants to get out of the ties. Reluctantly, you lift off his cock and slump against his chest, “how much longer before you break them?” You whisper in his ear.

“Gimme a few minutes.” He says roughly, both to calm down and to get the zip ties undone. Those bastards tied them extra fucking tight and Joel can’t break them as easily behind his back. “Wanna make this good for you.” He says a little louder, “make you cum again.”

There’s a harsh banging against the door. “Hurry the fuck up!” One of the men shouts. You snort but Joel just shakes his head. 

“You want me to cum? I need time!” He bellows back, smirking slightly at you. It’s kind of sexy how defiant he is and you lean in to kiss his jaw.

Joel hums, turning his head to press his lips against yours as you caress his shoulders. “Wanna put me back in? I’ve calmed down now.” He smirks, “want you to cum again for me.”

“Okay.” You reach down and moan when he twitches in your hand again as you line yourself up. “You’ve got a great cock.” You praise breathless when you start to sink down again.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, knowing that’s not something that he hears every day and he groans when you engulf him again. “You, uh, you have a great pussy. So tight and wet.” He says, a little awkwardly as he doesn’t really do compliments but for you, you deserve it.

“It’s just been awhile.” The fact that you are teasing him in this situation is a miracle, but you’ve had to keep a sense of humor since the outbreak or you would have gone crazy. “Any pussy would feel great.”

Joel wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t, “you gonna make yourself cum again on my cock?” He asks, wanting to hear those sweet cries of pleasure again. This moment is for you. Fuck those assholes outside. They don’t control this moment. You do.

“Yes.” You pant breathlessly, settling down on him again and clenching down around him. “Gonna cum again on the best dick I’ve ever had. You’re so good, baby.”

“So good.” Joel murmurs, “want you to take what you need.” He says and he leans in to kiss your chest, licking along your collarbone. You almost taste sweet but that could be because you’re clean. It’s hard to maintain hygiene when you’re traveling like he has been.

When he’s saying that, it’s almost easy to believe that this is just for you and him. That there’s not men on the other side of the door that want to use you as a broodmare. You moan and turn your head to whimper his name in his ear.

He groans when you whimper his name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Baby. Baby. You gotta - need you to make yourself cum again. Nearly got the ties off.” He whispers the last part, knowing that he won’t be able to hold off his orgasm much longer.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna cum.” You promise, reaching between your bodies and rubbing your clit. If he can get the ties off before he cums, he can pull you off his cock. Then you can both work on getting out of here. Hopefully he wasn’t lying when he said he would take you home. Even company on the road would be better than traveling alone.

Joel groans when you start to move and rub your clit. He wishes he could take over and he tugs on the zip ties, wanting to get out of them, and he watches you as you pleasure yourself using his body. “Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

“Yes, yes.” You are practically galloping on his cock, riding him as fast as your body will move, feet pushing you up from the floor as gravity brings you back down. Making you grunt every time he hits so deep inside of you and pushes you close to the edge.

“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel grunts as you rock on top of him. “Make that sweet pussy gush for me.” He demands, his cock twitching inside of you and he desperately wants to see you cum again.

His words send a shiver down your spine, gasping out when his cock twitches and hits something divine inside you. Throwing you over the edge with a warbled cry of his name as you clamp down around him.

Joel hisses at the way you clamp down on his cock, soaking him again and he clenches his jaw, thrusting up into you as you soak him. “Fuck. Im - im gonna cum.” He pants as he clenches his eyes shut just before he falls over the edge. His cock twitching violently inside of you as he paints your walls and the force of his orgasm has him ripping free of the zip ties.

It shouldn’t feel good. It should horrify you that he just came inside you. But you can’t move, can’t react as your body holds you suspended on his cock as he rocks up into you.

Joel groans as he rides out his orgasm, his hands coming up to grab your back to keep you pressed against him as his lips find yours to smother his groan. “Fuck.” He mutters into your mouth as his cock pulses inside of you.

You pour yourself into the kiss, knowing that you will have to stop soon. He’s free, now you both need to be free. Free of this horrible place.

Joel pulls back from the kiss and looks at you, “I’m gonna keep my hands behind my back when they come in. Want you to go along with what they want until I whistle, okay?” He says, wanting you to know he has a plan to get you out of this.

“Okay.��� You nod and pull off his cock with a slight moan so you can pull his pants back up. He can’t fight with his pants down and his cock out.

The door flings open moments later, having realized the moans have stopped, and the men come in. “Done the job?” They ask and Joel keeps his hands behind his back as he nods. 

“Yes. All done.” He says, jerking his chin towards you and they drag you off of his lap, making his jaw clench as they kick your legs apart to make sure he came inside of you. 

“Look at that creamy mess. She’s gonna make a cute little mama. She’ll be a horny one and I’m sure she will want a cock to sit on.” He chuckles and you wince. 

Joel clenches his jaw, “yeah. That ain’t gonna be happening.” He promises, whistling at you and he stands up from the chair, making the man’s eyes widen and he shoves you away just as Joel grabs the chair to swing it around and whack him in the face.

All you can do is watch, eyes wide as Joel goes feral. He’s brutal. Dropping the chair and grabbing the gun from the other man and turning around to pistol whip the other. The man in the ground is groaning and struggling to his hands and knees before you move over and kick him in the stomach for the vulgarity of him.

Joel wasted no time grabbing the gun and he grabs the knife from the other man, slitting his throat before he repeats the action with the other man on the ground. It’s violent and bloody but they won’t scream for help if they are gargling on their blood and no one will be alerted to the fact that he’s free. He shrugs off his jacket hands it to you to put on as he holds the gun up and carefully strides down the hall, “stay behind me.” He demands as he escorts you through the compound, determined to find Ellie.

Wrapping his jacket around your nude body, you follow behind him. Sticking close and wishing you had your shoes at least. They had ordered you to strip and you don’t know what they did with your clothes. “The little girl. She would be at the end of the building.”

Joel nods, gun aimed as he walks down the hall to where Ellie is being held. He hears her before he sees her. “Get the fuck away from me, man. Where’s Joel? I want to talk to him. Now!” She demands and Joel wastes no time shoving the door open. 

“How the fuck did you-?” The man holding her shouts and Joel wastes no time shooting him. 

“Get your shit, kid. We are leaving.” He demands and Ellie scrambles to get her backpack.

“Who the fuck is she?” Ellie’s eyes widen when she realizes that you are naked underneath Joel’s coat. “You picking up naked women now?” She demands. 

You pull the jacket tight around you and tell the girl your name. “He saved me.” That is all you tell her, not willing to divulge what happened between you.

“We don’t have time for this. Come on.” Joel growls as he escorts you and Ellie through the halls. “Where would your clothes be?” He asks, wanting you to have something to wear before you leave this hell hole.

“They might have put them back in my room.” You tell him quietly. “Down the hall to the left and three doors down.”

Joel nods, “stay here. I’ll get them.” He says as he hands the knife to you. “Scream and slash if anyone comes along. I’ll be right back.” He promises as he rubs down the hall, finding the room empty and he grabs the clothes from the side, rushing back down the hall.

“So, uh, are you okay?” Ellie asks as she shifts awkwardly, looking up and down the hall. It’s not like Joel just adopts people, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave you behind. 

“I’m- im good.” You murmur quietly.

Ellie nods, knowing that things happen and she isn’t sure she wants to know what happened to you. Joel is tense as he comes back down the hall with your clothes and boots. “Get your boots on.” He demands, knowing the rest can wait. You shove your feet in the boots and Joel nods, “stay close. No one makes a noise.” He demands as he guides you through the compound to find the exit.

It’s silent, making your heart feel like it’s pounding loud enough for everyone to hear. Freedom is so close. To get away from here is everything you’ve wanted since you’ve been brought here. Following behind the girl sandwiched between you and Joel, you figure that she is his daughter from how protective he is over her.

Joel sees the fire exit door, unguarded and the light shining through. He walks faster just as a man comes around the corner. “Fuck.” Joel grunts, raising his gun to kill the guy before he can shout. “They heard that.” Joel says as he grabs the guy’s gun from his holster and he slams the exit door open. “Go. Go. Go. Run!” He demands, shouting at you and Ellie to get out of the building. “Run into the woods.” He orders as he hears the others shouting out behind him.

Following Ellie, you run, not even daring to look back over your shoulder. Joel fires off another few shots and from the shouts, it sounds like he hit them. The brush scratches your thighs and legs as you run through the bitter wind, not bothering to try to keep the jacket closed around your body as you race for freedom.

Joel keeps running, running until all three of you collapse deep in the forest. Footsteps and shouts have faded and he feels that you can take a moment to take a breath. “Are you okay?” Joel asks Ellie breathlessly and she nods, “I’m fine.” He looks at you, walking over to you, “are you okay?”

"I'm free." You pant, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around your body. "I- thank you." You whisper, opening your eyes again and looking up at him. "I-I'm fine, but I need to- to clean up and get dressed."

Joel nods, “there’s a stream that runs through here that we passed before they caught us.” He says, knowing he wouldn’t mind freshening up too before he has to talk to you about what happened back there. “Let’s go.” He says with a nod, knowing you’ll want to be back in your own clothes.

Pushing off the tree you had been leaning against, you start to follow Joel and Ellie again. It's easier to be behind them so they don't have to see you naked in Joel's coat and so you can continuously look over your shoulder to make sure no one is following you. "Oh thank God." You moan when you hear the water close by and break through the trees to see a small stream. It will be cold, but you need to try to wash Joel's cum out of your cunt.

“Let’s give her some privacy.” Joel says, holstering one gun and holding the other to keep guard as he guides Ellie through the brush to give you some space. 

“Why is she naked?” Ellie asks, ever inquisitive. “Long story.” Joel sighs. 

“Did she - did you and she-?” Ellie doesn’t finish the question but Joel looks at her with slightly pained eyes, “just leave it.”

Ellie's mouth drops open and she almost speaks again, but the look on Joel's face tells her that he will snap at her if she does. "Ooooookay." She huffs and shakes her head. "I thought sex would put someone in a good mood." She mumbles to herself. Down at the stream, you quickly pull off your boots and plunge into the cold water. Biting your lip to keep from screaming at the temperature, you quickly start washing your body. You don't have soap, but the cold water is better than nothing for washing away the cum between your thighs.

Joel feels the guilt closing in on him. The way he had sex with you and you didn’t want to have sex with him. You were forced and he’s struggling with that. Do you think he forced you? He swallows harshly as his eyes scan the perimeter, his ears on high alert for any noise and he spins when you come through the brush fully clothed. Your hands go up when he aims the gun at you until he lowers it. “Okay. We gotta keep moving.” He says, knowing his own wash can wait.

You shake your head, knowing that he will want to clean up. Get the residue of you off of him. You feel horrible, knowing that you took advantage of this man while he was tied up. It doesn't matter that you were forced to, you were the one who had done it. "I can watch." you offer quietly. "While you clean up. I know it would be better."

“It’s fine. Let’s move.” Joel says, knowing it’s risky to stay here for too long and it’s going to get dark soon. He wants you and Ellie as far away from that place as possible. “Ellie, come on.” He calls out as Ellie lingers behind. “We gotta move.” He says and starts to guide you through the trees.

You don't have anything but the clothes on your back. Handing the jacket back to Joel, you settle for keeping up with him. He walks briskly, obviously wanting to put plenty of distance between your little group and the men who were chasing you. Biting your lip, you wonder what will happen when you stop, if he will want to part ways, or if he will keep his word.

Joel sighs as walks as far as he can before it gets too dark. “We will set up camp here. I’ll take watch. We leave as soon as the sun rises. I want to get to Wyoming as fast as possible before anything else goes to shit.”

You shake your head. “You can’t possibly stay up all night.” You protest and Ellie scoffs. 

“Good luck convincing him of that.” She huffs, shaking her head. “It’s downright impressive how stubborn he can be.” You bite your lip and nod, aware that he could just leave you here, so you decide not to argue. Ellie sets up her sleeping bag and there’s not going to be a fire, Joel is uncomfortable starting one since they might still be looking for you.

Joel gives you his sleeping bag, knowing he won’t be using it tonight, and he settles against a tree with his gun in hand, listening to every leaf and branch and rustle in the forest. It doesn’t take Ellie long to pass out but he can tell you’re still awake. “You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” He murmurs softly.

You stare at his profile in the dark, wondering if he will talk about what happened or just pretend it didn’t. It seems like he’s going to pretend it didn’t when the silence hangs between you. “Wake me when you get tired.” You finally whisper. “It’s been a long day for you too.”

Joel doesn’t respond with anything other than a nod and he watches you as you curl into his sleeping bag, exhausted by the events of the day. Joel sighs softly under his breath, knowing that you are a gorgeous young woman, someone he would’ve been lucky to have had in his previous life but he’s committed too many sins to ever reap such a reward. He sends a silent prayer up, that you aren’t pregnant. It’s a death wish in this new era.

****

Doubled over, you heave, the little bit of rabbit stew and water you had coming back up. Groaning as your stomach twists and turns, the hand on your back is reassuring, even though you know you can just imagine the concern on Ellie's face. True to your thoughts, Joel had never brought up that day, what had happened between you, and neither had you. You had desperately hoped that you would get your period, that the group's efforts to breed you would have been in vain. However, two months have gone by and now you are experiencing what can only be morning sickness on your trek across to the continent. You've had to backtrack, go south, and chase your tail to get around raging rivers, blown up bridges and bypass large cities where infected might be. Now, it seems like there's going to be a fourth member of your little party.

Joel winces when he hears you retching again. It’s been two months since he was forced to fuck you and he tries to deny the reality of what is happening but he can’t. Every day that passes, you’re in danger and he desperately needs to get you and Ellie to safety and not out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"It's getting worse." Ellie huffs when you finally stop heaving and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you gasp for breath. It's been taking it out of you and you know that you've been slowing them down. You being sick has made you weaker and able to travel less. It wouldn't surprise you if Joel ended up leaving you out here on your own. "Joel! It's getting worse." Ellie barks at Joel where he is scanning the area again. "We need to get her some medicine or something."

Joel bites his lip, “it’s not medicine that she needs, kid.” 

Ellie frowns, “then how the fuck is she gonna stop throwing up?” Ellie hisses, eyebrows raised and Joel shakes his head, looking at you, almost pleading with you to say it’s not so but deep down, he knows it’s happening.

"Time." You croak out, finally catching your breath and straightening. "It'll go away eventually. It just takes time." You know that Ellie is smart, she will figure it out, but right now, you don't need her worrying about it. 

“So why aren't me and Joel sick?" She demands and you shrug your shoulders. "Just my lucky little virus, I guess."

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t want to be catching that.” Joel swallows harshly and he adjusts the rifle over his shoulder. 

“You won’t.” He says, “it’s just her.” He grabs your water bottle and hands it to you, his dark eyes focusing on you.

"Thanks." You murmur quietly while Ellie mutters to herself. Taking a large drink, sighing, and wiping your mouth again. "I'm okay, Ellie." You promise her. "Why don't we keep on? I'm hoping we can find a house to sleep in tonight."

Joel nods, “it’s gonna be dark soon and it’s getting colder. We need a better shelter. Let’s keep going.” He says, knowing that he can focus on this. On survival. He can keep you and Ellie safe. This new development….he doesn’t know how he’s gonna handle it.

It takes you a moment to move once Ellie shuffles away. Aware that Joel’s eyes are still on you, but you don’t talk about it. Instead, you shuffle the small pack he had found for you up on your shoulders as you try not to freak out about being pregnant.

You walk for a couple more hours before you end up finding an abandoned house. It’s nothing fancy but it's a shelter from the cold wind and it’s warm. “Come on, let’s get inside.” Joel says, setting his rifle down as you and Ellie get inside of the cabin. “I’ll go see if I can find a rabbit or something. Get some wood for a fire.” He gestures to the empty fireplace.

“God, a fire.” You moan quietly. “Being warm when I sleep.” It’s been some time since you’ve slept under a roof and you are looking forward to it. Especially because you’re sure it’s going to rain tomorrow. You might be here for a day or so. “Let’s go collect some wood and see if we can find some water.” You tell Ellie as you drop your bag. “Maybe there’s some clothes in the bedrooms we can go through.”

Joel makes his way out into the woods, knife and gun in hand as he listens for any wildlife and his heart is pounding. You’re pregnant. He inhales sharply, suddenly feeling his lungs contract and he feels like he can’t breathe. Bending over, he closes his eyes and his heart is pounding. He failed Sarah. He’s failing Ellie. He’s going to fail you and the baby. He’s going to fail.

“You’re not like, gonna die, right?” Ellie asks as you both haul an armful of wood back to the small cabin. You had told her that the weather might get bad and it could be a good idea to get extra wood. The idea of spending a day or so with walls and roof around you seems positively luxurious, especially in bad weather. “I don’t think so.” You don’t want to tell her right now that you're pregnant, but soon you will have to. It’s horrible, but you wonder if Joel hopes you might lose the small little bean that’s growing in your belly. It’s not like he wanted a baby and this world isn’t made for babies anymore.

Joel inhales deeply, trying to catch his breath and he opens his eyes. It’s hard to think about becoming a father again and he tries to calm down. His heart pounding in his chest and he rubs his chest, trying to stop it. His mouth is dry and he gives himself a moment to gather his composure before he resumes his venture to find dinner.

Once you both have brought a good pile of wood inside, you start to poke around in the kitchen. Hoping that you might find a few cans of food or some sturdy pots to boil water in. You need to stay hydrated more than normal with your morning sickness.

Joel returns to the cabin with two rabbits, his blood pressure returns to normal, and he locks the door once it’s shut behind him. “Got two. Should be plenty for all of us.” Joel says, heading into the kitchen so he can work on skinning the rabbits and getting them on the fire that you and Ellie have prepped.

"There was a well." You announce. "We've hauled in a shit ton of water and the kid is already dreaming about a hot sponge bath." You tell him from the fire. You can't watch him skin the rabbits right now, your stomach would revolt.

Joel works fast to skin the rabbits and prepare them for cooking. He spears them and places them over the fire before he shrugs off his jacket, glancing at you across the room as you pour water into smaller buckets to heat up. “I’m sure everyone could use a clean up.”

“Damn right, you stink.” Ellie huffs, dramatically waving her hand in front of her nose. 

You snort at the frown on Joel’s face and shake your head. “It’s hard work crossing the country.” You remind her.

Ellie chuckles, “too fucking right it is.” 

Joel huffs, “language.” He reminds her and she rolls her eyes as he turns the rabbits. “Go clean up, kid. Dinner won’t be too long.” He says after the buckets of water are warmed and you help her carry them into the bathroom.

“I found a couple of cans.” You tell Joel. “Stuck them in Ellie’s bag.” The labels were long since peeled, but the cans weren’t swollen, so there is a good chance the food inside is still good. “And there’s some clothes that might fit you.”

Joel nods as he spins the rabbits. “That’s good. This shirt is getting ratty. Too thin with the colder weather coming in on us. How are you…how are you feelin’?” He asks softly, “do you think you’re - that you got-?” He can’t finish the sentence, too terrified to know the answer despite already knowing it deep down.

You sigh softly, knowing the conversation had to come eventually. “There were some larger clothes that I stuffed in my bag when Ellie wasn’t looking. For when I can’t fit these.” You tell him quietly. “I’m sorry. If you want to leave with Ellie in the morning, leave me behind, I’ll understand. You didn’t ask for this.”

Joel shifts away from the fire, coming over to you. “You didn’t ask for this either. Those bastards…they forced you - they forced us. Now, we face the reality of what happened and I- I am not a man to run away from my responsibility. You’ll stay with me and Ellie. You will have this baby and I will use everything in me to protect you all. With my life.” He promises.

“I don’t want you to do that.” You shake your head and frown. “Ellie needs you. She’s important.” Over the course of the last two months, you’ve learned why they are on the road and why he’s so protective over her. “If it comes down to you or me and the baby, you choose yourself.”

Joel scoffs, “you gotta be fucking kidding me, baby?” He says and shifts closer. “I will never choose myself over you and the baby. Never.” He hisses, “I don’t give a fuck about my life. I am here to protect you and Ellie and now this baby. That’s my life. That’s my duty.” He says with conviction.

You don’t agree with him, Ellie is more important than you, but you don’t argue. You can see the set of his jaw, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you look back at the fire. “There’s bad weather moving in,” you tell him quietly. “Ellie and I gathered enough wood to stay if it doesn’t blow through in the night.”

“Then we will see it out. Are you hungry?” He asks, knowing you must be. He is and he isn’t the one growing a child inside of him. God, a baby. His child. His heart twists and he wonders if it’s a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter either way as long as they are healthy and safe but he is terrified he’s going to fail them.

“I’m starving.” You admit sheepishly. “Getting sick hasn’t been helping but it feels like I’ve not eaten in a week.” Even though you are ravenous, you won’t take more than either one of them. All three of you need to keep up your strength. “Soon enough Ellie will find out too.” You remind him. “What do we tell her? Do you- um, do you want her to think it’s someone else’s baby?”

Joel shakes his head, “she’s not stupid. We will tell her it’s mine and that we were forced into having sex. Ellie is - she’s beyond her years and I know that she won’t judge us. She needs to know if we are to be a unit.” Joel says softly, already deciding to give up some of his portion so he can make sure you have enough food.

You sigh softly, aware that you are a burden to him. He didn’t want another kid and here you are pregnant. “At least we will be warm and cozy tonight.” You change the subject, looking around the cabin. “This place must have been cute twenty years ago.”

Joel looks around and nods, “yeah. I used to build houses with my brother. We had a construction company. Seems like a lifetime ago now.” He sighs, thinking of Tommy. “Do you, uh, what do you want? A girl or a boy?” He asks after a moment.

It takes you a minute to realize he’s asking about the baby. Surprising you again, although you can see Joel being a man who worked with his hands before the outbreak. “I don’t really care if it’s a boy or girl.” You admit, your hand drifting down to your stomach. “As long as they are healthy, right?”

Joel nods, “healthy is all that matters. I, uh, I had a daughter. Before the outbreak. Her name was Sarah. She was shot on the day and I- I - I died that day too.” He admits quietly, staring into the fire.

“Oh god.” Your heart sinks and your eyes start to water. You can’t imagine how he felt losing his daughter. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You reach out and touch his arm. “Nothing I can say will make it okay, but I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t push you away like he would everyone else. You are connected to him now and you deserve to know who he is, even the ugly dark parts of him he’s hidden away. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “thanks. I miss her every second of every day but Ellie…she gave me a new purpose.”

“She’s a special girl, I can see why you’ve grown attached to her.” You murmur. “She’s amazingly resilient. I don’t know if I could have survived all of this when I was her age. I was so innocent.” You snort, amused at how naive you had been at her age.

Joel chuckles, “ain’t we all at that age? It was a different time. We were allowed to be naive. She isn’t.” He sighs after a second and lets go of your hand so he can take the rabbits off of the fire. “Can you go tell the kid dinner is ready? She will soak all night if you let her.”

“I will.” You had found some metal dishes, ones that you can take with you, and cleaned them up. It will be a proper dinner tonight. Making your way to the small bathroom, you knock on the door. “Ellie? Dinner is ready, okay?” She huffs but agrees and you grin at the attitude teenagers give as you go back into the main area.

Joel serves up the rabbit onto the plates, serving you and Ellie more than him and he brings the plates over to the rickety table, setting them down. “Eat.” He orders you when you appear back in the room.

You frown when you see only two plates and shake your head. “Where’s yours?” You demand, not wanting him to go without.

“I’ll get meat off of the bones.” He says, knowing he can get more from the bone than you or Ellie. Ellie doesn’t like chewing from the bone.

You want to argue but you know it will do no good. Joel is determined to make sure that you and Ellie are taken care of and you can’t fight him your entire pregnancy. You resolve to make sure that he has plenty of meat when you are done. “There’s a pot we can make a stew with tomorrow?” You offer, knowing that would stretch the food supply that you find. “It’s not heavy. I can carry it.”

Joel bites his lip, not liking the idea of you carrying anything at all. “Until it’s too heavy. Then I’ll take it.” He commands as Ellie comes out of the hall, dressed in new clothes and her hair wet. 

“Fuck yes. I'm starving.” She groans as she sits down at the table and immediately digs into the food.

You eat more slowly, drinking a lot of water since you’ve been sick and chuckling to yourself as Ellie chokes down the food like she’s not eaten in years. “Slow down, you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Ellie nods, “don’t wanna be like you. Getting sick and shit.” 

You chuckle softly and nod, glancing over at Joel. “Fair enough.” You hum and Joel nibbles on the bones, enjoying the flavor of the meat. 

“Slow down.” Joel tells Ellie after a second, “don’t need you throwin’ up around here.”

You snort when she rolls her eyes, but starts to slow down. All of you continue to eat in silence and Joel frowns when you push your half eaten plate towards him. “I can’t eat anymore.” You tell him truthfully. The water is sloshing in your belly. “Besides, if I get sick in the morning, it will just be a waste.”

Joel narrows his eyes at you slightly, trying to discern if you are being truthful and he reluctantly takes the plate, picking up the remaining rabbit to eat it. “Try to keep it down. You need to eat and keep your energy up.” He tells you, “and plenty of rest.”

Ellie snorts. “Okay, dad.” She huffs sarcastically. “Jesus, you act like she’s pregnant or something.” You freeze for a split second before you laugh, trying to make that thought disappear.

Joel looks at you before he looks at Ellie and she picks up the look. “Oh shit. She’s - you’re - you’re pregnant?” She chokes and you glance back at Joel. 

“She is.” He declares, “we, uh, when those assholes took us a couple of months back…they tied me up and uh, they made us have sex. And from that…she’s pregnant.” Joel explains as simply as he can.

“Assholes!” Ellie huffs, indignant on your behalf and you bite your lip. You hadn’t wanted to tell her at all, but she would have figured it out. 

“So now you know why you can’t catch what’s making me sick.”

Ellie nods, surging forward to hug you and you’re surprised but return it. “You didn’t deserve that. Neither of you did but I’m excited for a baby. Wonder if it’s gonna look like you or Joel. Hopefully you.” She says, “are you guys together?” She asks and you shake your head. 

Joel bites his lip, “we, uh, we didn’t - it was once to save our lives and I’m gonna be here for you and her and the baby. No matter what.”

He couldn’t look more awkward if he tried and all the dreams you have been having about Joel while sleeping just fizzle away. Reminding you that he hadn’t wanted you, it was just circumstance that had caused this, and a fucked up circumstance at that. “It’s better that we aren’t.” You tell her lightly, reaching out and tugging on her hair. “You don’t have to watch us kiss or hear us late at night.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “I can’t even imagine you kissing anyone.” 

You snort and Joel rolls his eyes, “finish your food.” He orders, picking up his canteen and gulping down some water. He can’t let you know that he thinks about that time with you every night. He thinks about how you felt, how you smelt, how he wants to touch you again. In the past two months, he’s gotten to know more about you and it’s hard to deny that he likes you.

When the rabbits are gone, you collect the plates and wash everything in the five gallon bucket of water you had kept aside for that and bite your lip. “We still have enough water for both of us to wash.” You offer Joel. “Do you want to go first?”

Joel shakes his head, "you go first. Take your time and relax." He insists, "Ellie, it's time for bed." He says, "I'm gonna do a scan of the area before I lock us in." He says, grabbing his rifle.

“Awww man, I’m gonna get to sleep on a mattress.” She huffs happily, pulling her sleeping bag out of her bag and setting it down on the old bedding you had dragged out into the main room. Figuring it would be better to sleep next to the fire than in the bedroom.

Joel smiles to himself as he exits the cabin, his ears on high alert for any intruders as the smoke from the chimney billows into the night sky. He clutches the gun as he walks around the perimeter, wanting to make sure you and Ellie are safe before he retreats back into the cabin. He’s glad Ellie knows. He’s gonna need all the help he can get on this trek to find Tommy. Time is of the essence.

In the bathroom, you strip down with a sigh and crawl into the tub. Groaning quietly as you slip into the cool water, it’s still warmer than you’re used to and that is a pleasure. You want to enjoy this and spend a little time relaxing while you can.

Joel settles in to first watch as you come out of the bathroom dressed in new clothes. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Who knows when the next time we get to sleep in somewhere like this.” You nod, shifting to lay down on the mattress inside of your sleeping bag. 

**** 

Joel wipes his face, the wind whipping in his face and he glances back at you and Ellie behind him. The snow is falling and you are struggling. Your bump is round and pushing against your coat and every damn minute has Joel close to a heart attack when you stumble or get tired. He’s failed you. It’s taken too long to get you to Wyoming and he knows deep down you hate him for dragging you across the fucking country.

You pant quietly, aware that Joel has to keep slowing down for you. It’s been miserable and it seems like your luck never seems to get better. You stumble slightly, Ellie reaching out to steady you in the deepening snow. “We need to stop!” She shouts ahead to Joel but you shake your head. 

“No! Keep going. I’m fine.” Your back is aching and pinging with pain, but you know that you need to go farther to find shelter for the night.

Joel turns back to look at you, seeing the way your brow is pinched. “We gotta keep going. Find shelter. We can’t be out in this.” He shouts and keeps his rifle pointed just in case someone sneaks up on you. His eyes constantly scan the horizon for any sign of a shelter. The darkness draws in until he finally calls it, finding a cave near the river to shelter in. “Come here, sweetheart.” He says, helping you sit down on your sleeping bag. “You need water?” He asks as he gets your flask.

“Please.” You reach for the water, panting slightly. It’s been hard today, your body aching more than normal and the baby has been kicking like crazy. Joel’s been amazing through this all, although you know he’s getting frustrated with how long this is taking. Having a pregnant woman slowing him down wasn’t something he had anticipated.

He hands the bottle to you, shifting to kneel down and his hand rests on your stomach, feeling the kicks. “Christ. They are active. Your back must be aching. Lay down. Ellie - let’s get some wood for a fire and then I’ll find us some food.” Joel says, knowing he needs to find extra. You need your strength and he’s been trying to go without so you have more for the time comes for you to give birth. He’s terrified. Fucking terrified of that moment and it’s any day now.

“I-I’m fine.” You insist even though you are exhausted. “Just need to rest.” You want nothing more than for Joel to pull you into his arms and maybe rub your back, but your stomach is pretty much all he will touch. “Don’t go on my account.”

He wants to laugh and say it’s the least he can do but he can’t. He sighs and stands up, glancing at Ellie who nods. “Watch her and I’ll be back. Don’t go too far.” He orders as he grabs his rifle and ventures into the darkness to find your dinner.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks quietly, her serious face as she watches you closely. “I’m good.” You promise. “Just tired and fat.”

Ellie shakes her head, “you aren’t fat. You’re growing a fucking baby. That’s insane. It’s crazy that a baby is gonna come out of your vagina. I do not fucking envy that.” Ellie shivers in disgust.

You let out a small laugh, secretly having the same thought. You’ve tried hard to hide the fact that you’re terrified from her. It won’t do any good to have her upset about something that you can’t change. “We need to start a fire.” You groan. “Give me a minute and I’ll help you find some wood.”

Ellie nods as you stand up, groaning out as you struggle with the surge of pain. Ellie helps you up, holding onto your arms. Meanwhile, Joel is hunting, his ears pricked up to hear any rustling. His heart is pounding and he knows it's the anxiety again. He is terrified of you having the baby. He's already failed you. He hasn't found Tommy and you're in the middle of nowhere. He's already failed his child and he feels sick about it.

You constantly ache now, every fiber of your being protesting in pain. Although you know that it’s just because you’re pregnant, you also fear that you might be going into labor. You can’t tell Joel or Ellie that, they will freak out. The pain passes and you sigh, thinking that it’s not so bad right now.

Joel returns with a few rabbits, the fire started by Ellie and he works fast to skin and gut the rabbits before he sets them on the fire to cook. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, seeing the sweat on your forehead. “You sick?”

“Hot flash.” You lie with a grin. “Don’t know how, but your kid is making me boil in the middle of winter.” You laugh. “Good thing I’m not pregnant during the summer, I would have never survived without air conditioning.”

Joel nods, handing you some water. He refilled the flasks down at the river. His stomach twists with the words “your kid” and the reality hits him again. “Christ. It’s too fucking dead out here. There’s nothing. Not even a cabin. You’re about to pop and I- I have failed you.” He whispers when Ellie goes to set up her sleeping bag.

“You haven’t failed me.” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You got me away from that place, you’ve protected me. Kept me fed and safe.” You haven’t failed me.” It’s sobering to realize that he’s upset about things you can’t change.

Joel swallows harshly and shakes his head, “I gotta get you somewhere safe before you give birth. We have nothing for a baby.” He says, glancing back at the fire. “We need to make sure we can get more clothes to make diapers or something.”

“I’ve been saving our clothes as they wear out.” You admit. “My bag is full of them. I just need to cut them up into diapers.”

Joel realizes how much more prepared you are both physically and mentally for this baby than he is. He didn’t even think of that. He nods and reaches for your hand, “great idea. This - it will be fine.” He says more to himself than to you.

You hold onto his hand for a moment, knowing that it’s the closest you will get to him again. “It will be fine.” You echo. “Women have been having kids for thousands of years.”

Joel nods, knowing it's true but he needs to make sure you're safe and in an environment where your child can be born safe and without fear. He swallows down some water and he gets the rabbits on the fire.

He’s watching you closely, so every time you grunt in pain, he looks over. “Baby’s active.” You explain and he nods. The baby has been kicking more, so it is plausible. Maybe this is just those fake labor pains you used to hear about when you talked about this kind of thing. It seems like a million years ago. “Do you- uh, you do have any names you’d want?” You ask curiously.

Joel licks his dry lips, knowing that he hadn’t really thought about a name. Thinking about names makes it all real and he’s struggled enough with the reality of becoming a father again. “I haven’t really thought about it.” He confesses, “haven’t really had time. Do you have any names?” He asks, wondering what you have pondered. This is your first child and he knows that you must’ve thought about names.

“I - it’s so hard to think about.” You admit quietly. “All the names I’ve thought about have memories attached and it’s a lot more than being able to name them. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” You bite your lip. “What- did Sarah have a middle name? Do you?”

Joel bites his lip, “Sarah’s middle name was Alexandra because my middle name is Alexander. So…Alex.” He says, “could work for both.” He snorts with a soft smile as he remembers the day he and his ex decided on Sarah’s name after she was born.

“Alex.” You smile softly at the name and think that it’s perfect. “Would it be….too painful if I named the baby that?” You don’t want to hurt him, reminding him of the child he lost. Nor do you want him to think you are trying to replace Sarah, just….honor her a little.

Joel reaches for your hand, “not at all. I think it’s perfect.” He promises, his heart aching at the thought of his baby girl but she’s gone and this baby is coming. He can love Sarah with his entire being and still be a father to this new baby. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks when he feels you squeeze his hand.

“I’m okay.” You promise, nodding quickly. “Just-“ you grunt slightly. “Hard to find a comfortable way to sit, or lay, or exist right now.” You joke, hoping he accepts that answer. “If it wasn’t freezing, I’d probably be looking for the nearest body of water to float in to feel like less of a cow.”

“You ain’t a cow. You are…you are beautiful.” Joel murmurs, letting go of your hand so you can find a comfortable position. “I know this baby isn’t coming into the world that we knew and it’s…it scares me to death to think about all the things that could happen to them but you gotta know, I’ll protect you, Ellie, and this baby until my dying breath.”

“Can you please stop talking about dying?” You ask softly, not wanting to let Ellie overhear. “That scares me. So much.” You blow out a breath. “I- you protect us so much better than I can, I can’t- not having you here-“ you choke up, eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry…” you whimper. “Hormones.” Wiping your eyes, you try to compose yourself. “I don’t want to think about any of our dying breaths right now.”

Joel nods, reaching up to gently wipe your tear away, his hand cupping your cheek as his dark eyes meet yours. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll fight tooth and nail to stay with you and the kids as long as possible.” He assures you, his hand still on your cheek.

There’s a moment where you think that he’s being tender. That there’s a hint of affection for you, before his eyes shift again. His walls go back up. You don’t sigh, but you want to. Instead, you nod against his hand, nuzzling into it slightly. “Thank you.” You murmur quietly

He drops his hand from your cheek and glances over as Ellie settles on her sleeping bag while the rabbit cooks. “It’s okay. We will figure it all out.” He promises and turns his attention back to the rabbit cooking over the fire.

Your own comfort is now down to zero as you shift, trying to find the best way to lay and ease the tension in your back. At least there is a rock outcrop to lean against and you sigh when you have to pee again. “Ellie, help me up.” You ask softly. “I have to pee.”

Ellie nods, shifting off of her sleeping bag to help you up. “Geez, I am glad I don’t like boys.” She murmurs and you chuckle, “pregnancy sucks.” You tell her and she snorts, “I can tell.” Joel cuts up the rabbits, placing it in the tins you have been carrying to use as bowls.

Waddling off for a little privacy, you groan quietly and clutch your stomach. You do need to pee, but you needed a second away from their concern more. “Fuck”. You whimper. “Just- just let me get through the night.” You tell yourself and any other higher power that might be listening. “We need tonight.”

The next morning, Joel can see how weary you are, the redness in your eyes from lack of sleep and he’s worried. Every day could be the day the baby comes and he needs to get you somewhere safe. “You doing okay?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re okay when he can see how you’re struggling.

“Didn’t sleep.” You don’t mention that Joel had passed out and both you and Ellie had let him sleep. He’s constantly exhausted and it’s starting to wear him down. “I’ll be okay.” You murmur. “We need to move.”

Joel nods, knowing you need to rest but he also needs to get you somewhere safe. When you come across the cabin, Joel is excited to find shelter until the woman tries to shoot him and misses. He wrangles her and ties her up, managing to get out of her that her husband is coming home soon.

Once the woman realizes that you are pregnant, she makes you and Ellie some soup. Making you sit down in a comfortable chair that has you moaning in pleasure. “She will give birth soon.” She predicts as she sits down in the chair opposite you, ignoring Joel and the gun. “Her spirit is strong.”

Joel clenches his jaw, on edge in case it's more than just her husband who is returning. When the man comes back, his own gun is raised and he reprimands his wife for letting Joel in until he sees you, sitting pregnant in his favorite chair. "She needs a safe place to give birth." He says, knowing that won't be his cabin. It's bad enough to have Joel and the women in his home for this amount of time.

“I'm fine.” You hiss, right as a pain strikes so it just makes you look angry. “Tell him what he wants to know and we will leave.”

Joel clenches his jaw and adjusts his gun. “Don’t go south of the river. It’s only dead there.” The old man tells Joel who glances at you for a second. “Get your stuff. We are leaving.” Joel says with a set jaw.

You bite your lip, struggling out of the chair and you sigh in relief. The pressure isn’t nearly as bad since you’ve eaten and rested, it has to be those false labor pains everyone always talks about. “Thank you.” You murmur to the old woman. “Take care of your baby.” She warns you.

Joel sighs as he escorts you and Ellie back into the wilderness. The snow is deep and the wind is freezing. “You warm enough?” He asks you when you shake, worried that’s it’s too cold for you to continue and you can’t just sit down and have a baby in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“I’m okay.” It’s like your motto now, you utter it so often, but you have to be. You can’t stay at that cabin to give birth, but you need to find somewhere safe. His hand hovers over your back and you nearly stumble in the snow.

Joel glances around, eyes narrowed to shield against the storm. “Come on baby. Let’s get movin’” He says as he escorts you along the riverbank. “We going across?” Ellie asks and Joel nods, leading the way across to the “dead” side of the river.

The bridge almost looks forbidden, but the three of you walk across it, the icy water rushing underneath. “Looks like a dam.” You grunt out, biting your lip when another pain, sharp this time, shoots across your belly.

Joel can tell something is wrong but before he can even ask you, you’re suddenly surrounded. Horses approach and he shoves you and Ellie behind him, his heart pounding in his chest as he grips his gun, outnumbered with each passing second, he’s terrified.

The men, the horses, all of it makes you clutch your stomach. Pulling Ellie behind you, to protect her while you try not to double over when another pain crashes through you.

When the dog appears, Joel freezes. When he’s told it detects the virus, he’s terrified that the dog is going to rip Ellie apart. Or attack you for some reason. His heart pounds, puffing out clouds as his breathing quickens and he feels like he’s gonna be sick as he holds his hands up. “Please.” He mouths like it’s going to make a difference and all he can do is brace himself.

You tense when the dog rushes towards you. Barking and snapping, for a second you think it’s going to bite your stomach. Until he whines and sits. Ellie’s hand in front of you and you can’t believe the girl was going to risk getting attacked for you. Watching in amazement as the dog starts to lick her. Until another pain has you doubling over and screaming in pain.

Joel spins, uncaring of the guns on him until he’s ordered to stand still. “Please. She’s pregnant. We are trying to get shelter and I’m trying to find my brother.” He says, voice shaking a little as his fists clench when he can’t do shit but stand there. 

“Joel!” You gasp and the woman on the horse looks at him, “Joel?” She asks, recognizing the name. She glances at her fellow riders and nods, making Joel frown as the guns lower slightly so he rushes over to you. 

“Sweetheart. What - oh shit.” He gasps as he sees your jeans go darker.

You whimper, feeling colder now that your water has broken and soaked your clothes. “I’m sorry, I tried-“ you grab onto his arm. “I tried to hold off.” You start to cry, knowing that you are in labor and these people are probably going to kill you all because of you.

Joel’s eyes are wide as he looks at the woman on the horse whose mouth is hanging open. “Get her inside. Now.” She orders and Joel guides you over to the horse. 

“This is gonna hurt, baby.” He warns you as he helps you up, your cry echoing in the clearing as you grunt in pain but soon you are on and Joel swings on behind you, Ellie getting on another horse. The group escorts you through the gates and Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of something he hasn’t seen in a long time: a community.

You are barely able to hold into the saddle horn, panting as you can finally breathe now that the pain has passed. Unable to even pay attention to the commotion around you as you come to terms with the fact that you are having this baby now. “Holy fuck-“ Joel hisses and pulls the horse to a stop. “Tommy!” Your head jerks up at the name of his brother. Could he be here? Joel shifts off the mount, nearly falling down as he stares at a man on a scaffolding. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he climbs down the scaffolding. “Joel!” He shouts back, both men rushing towards each other before they embrace, Joel pulling back to look at the brother he’s been searching for for so long. Your cry of pain drags them away from their reunion and Joel pats his brother on the back. “She’s having a baby. She needs medical attention. Now.” Joel demands and Tommy looks at Maria who nods.

Hands, so many hands, gently pull you off the horse. Although it’s Joel who practically drags you off your feet as they lead the way. Through some buildings and into a room that looks like a doctor’s office. “Jo-Joooooeeeeelllllllll!” You clench your teeth together as another pain rips through you.

“I’m here.” He promises, holding you tight as he gets escorted into a room with a bed and a set up like pre-outbreak days. He would be impressed if he wasn’t fucking terrified. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” He promises, helping the women take off your coat and the wet clothes. He turns his head when you’re naked. Not because he doesn’t want to see you but he hasn’t since the day he got you pregnant and you deserve your modesty. A hospital gown is put on you and you are helped onto the bed. 

“Let’s see what’s going on here.” An older woman, who was a midwife in the previous world, introduces herself and that’s when Joel crumbles. He can’t stand there. He’s failed you. He’s already failed this baby. He stumbles out of the room, blindly walking until Tommy finds him.

When Joel walks out the door, your entire body sags and you start to cry. Unable to call out for him, unwilling to force him to be here with you. Circumstance had made him put up with you, but now he’s fulfilled his part of your deal. He’s gotten you somewhere safe. “It’s okay, dear.” The kind midwife pats your leg and tries to soothe you. “I need to see how far you’ve progressed. How long have you been in labor?” Her question makes you focus and you shake your head. “I thought it was fake pains.” You gasp. “Two- two days ago I started cramping.”

Tommy pours Joel a glass of whiskey and he stares at his younger brother. Months. Fucking months he’s been traveling trying to find him. He’s put his life on the line. He’s got Ellie and you now. Your lives on the line and the baby. Shit, his baby. Meanwhile, Tommy has been shacked up in a nice community with running water and electricity without a single word to his older brother that he's alive. “Looks like you’ve got things good here.” He says after he takes a sip, needing to calm his nerves when your face keeps flashing in his mind. 

“Yeah. I, uh, got married. Maria. She’s my wife.” Tommy says and Joel congratulates him through gritted teeth. 

“I gotta go to Colorado. Take the kid. She, uh, she needs to go there.” He half explains and Tommy shakes his head. 

“I can’t do that. I’m going to be a dad.” He reveals and Joel almost chokes on his beer. 

“So am I.” He murmurs and Tommy’s eyes widen. 

“The pregnant - your baby?” He asks and Joel nods. “What the fuck are you doing here then? You should be with her.” Tommy growls and Joel shakes his head, his hand shaking as he sets the beer down. 

“I’ve already failed her. The baby. All of them. I can’t - what if - Sarah.” He gasps, feeling the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him again. Tommy comes around the counter to touch his brother’s shoulder. 

“You won’t fail them. You’ve kept them alive. Now go. You need to be there to see your child born.” Tommy insists, “come on, I’ll take you.”

You're nearly fully dilated. The midwife said it won’t be too much longer before you are pushing your baby out. She’s given you an IV, but she doesn’t have any drugs to give you. Your eyes squeeze shut as another pain consumes you, making you cry out Joel’s name since you felt safest with him. Even though he’s not here. He’s left you. He doesn’t want to be here when his child is born.

Joel rushes in when one of the women standing outside of your room tells him you’re about to push. “I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m here, baby.” Joel promises as he comes over to stand next to the bed, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face and offering you his hand to squeeze as tight as you need when you push. “I’m sorry I left. Fuck, I’m sorry baby.”

Even as you are grabbing onto him, you’re shaking your head. “No, no, no, you don’t want this.” You whine in pain. “You don’t- just goooooo.” You gasp out and clutch his hand even harder. “I’m- I know you don’t want- Sarah-“

Joel feels the guilt settle over him like fog, heavy and he can admit, self induced. “No. No. I - I won’t go. I’ve been terrified of becoming a father again. Of failing again. Of failing you. The baby. Just like a failed Sarah and - shit - baby, I can’t lose anyone else.” He chokes, squeezing your hand like it’s his lifeline.

You are panting by the time the pain passes, slumping back against the bed and letting out a small sob. “I won’t-“ you don’t finish the sentence because you know childbirth is dangerous. Anything could happen. “I love you.” You whimper before the next pain starts and the midwife tells you to start pushing. Unable to look at Joel to see his reaction as you grit your teeth and bear down.

He doesn’t respond, knowing it could’ve been the emotions of the moment and he’s never been a man to just blurt out how he feels without considering his words and the circumstances. Words like love are thrown around too much, even nowadays, and he doesn’t want you to say something and regret it. “That’s it, sweetheart. Doing so good. Just breathe.” He says, trying to coach you and reassure you like he did his wife when Sarah was born.

There isn’t time for you to focus on Joel’s non response to your confession. Focusing on your need to push and the orders the midwife is giving you while Joel steadies you is comforting. Closing your eyes when you have a moment to breathe before you are tending to push again.

His heart pounds in his chest, his eyes darting from your face to the midwife between your legs. “Doing good, baby.” Joel promises despite not having a clue how far along you are. Your nails dig into his palm and he swallows down the hiss of pain, knowing it’s nothing compared to the pain you’re going through right now.

“The head is almost out.” The midwife looks up. “The next push will be for the shoulders and I need you to push hard.” She orders, making you nod and regrip Joel’s hand. “Okay, push!” Your grunt turns into a scream as you bear down, feeling the blood rushing through your veins and your lungs start to scream for oxygen.

“You got this. You’re doing so good.” Joel promises, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He is terrified for the baby to be born. Shit scared there’s something wrong with them. “You got this baby. Nearly there.” He murmurs, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your forehead.

One more push and the pressure instantly goes away. A choked cry filling the room, getting louder as it squawks and you are looking down as the midwife comes up with your child in her arms. “Congratulations mama, it’s a boy.” She tells you, depositing the still slick child onto your chest.

Joel lets go of your hand, a choke escaping his lips as he stares at the baby now crying out in protest of being pushed into the world, and tears sting in his eyes. His hand raises to touch the baby but he stops, unsure of what you want and the midwife grabs some surgical scissors, asking if he wants to cut the cord. It feels surreal. Like it’s a dream he’s about to wake up from. His hand shakes as he cuts the cord and he stands by you, unsure of how you want him to proceed.

Looking down at your son, your hands shake as you hold him. Unable to believe this is real. “A- a boy.” You choke out, looking up to see Joel looking at you with longing in his eyes. He’s not hiding it right now. “Take him.” You order softly, moving to pull him off your chest. “Hold your son, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, slowly reaching out to take the baby into his arms. He’s tiny and so perfect. Ten fingers and ten toes. His eyes like yours. His nose is like Joel’s. He’s perfect and Joel can’t stop the tears that suddenly stream down his cheeks. “Hey little man.” He murmurs, staring at the baby in awe. His son. “Hi Alex.” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

You smile, exhausted and still cramping as the midwife continues to work on you, but you can’t take your eyes off the scene. The big, burly, gruff man is so fucking gentle as he holds his son. Starting to gently sway, rocking him as he holds the minute old child. “Alexander Joel Miller.” You venture softly, wondering how he would feel about the complete name.

Joel looks over at you, his eyes widening slightly as you name your child with a version of his own name. It’s perfect and he knows at that moment that there’s no use denying how he feels, at least to himself. “It’s perfect.” He murmurs, carrying the baby back over to you to place him in your arms, stroking his head as he settles against your chest to try and root at your breast. “Did you mean it?” He asks you softly as his eyes flick from the baby to you.

You keep your eyes on your son, not wanting to see the rejection in Joel’s. “I don’t expect anything from you.” You promise him quietly. “You didn’t ask for this, for me and Alex.” It’s crazy that you’ve fallen for him, but you have. His dedication to protecting you and the baby, Ellie, has made you fall in love with him. “Just- just don’t reject Alex, please. You don’t have to love me, or even be around me.”

Joel leans closer to you, “it’s hard to not love you when it’s already happened.” He murmurs, “I- I’m not good with words or - or emotions, but sweetheart, you gotta know that there’s nothing on this earth that I’ve ever felt like this before.” He confesses softly. It’s true. Even his ex wife didn’t make his heart pound like you do. “I’ve wanted you for months but I thought you didn’t want me after we were forced to- you know. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us when I had to protect you and Ellie and if you didn’t feel the same. I’m not good at this but for you, I want to try. I want you and our family.”

Your lip trembles and you close your eyes in relief that he feels the same way you do. “I don’t- I don’t want to trap you.” You explain. “I know that we were forced to have Alex, but I enjoyed it. I felt so guilty for enjoying that, for getting pregnant. But I don’t regret this little joy.” You look down at the way your son is still hungrily trying to suckle, grunting at your breast. “He’s a symbol of hope. That there is something to live for, fight for.”

Joel nods in agreement, “he’s our hope. You didn’t trap me. You were forced just as much as I was and I- shit - I feel so guilty thinking of that time together as much as I do.” He admits quietly, “I can’t regret that day when it brought me you and Alex. I love you, baby. I- I know I’m an asshole who can’t handle emotions most of the time so don’t expect me to say it all the time to you but I want you to know that’s how I feel.”

“I don’t care that you say it.” You shake your head, smiling at him when you look back up at the man who has saved you. “You show it. You show Ellie by letting her be herself and keeping her safe. You show me by protecting me and looking out for me and Alex.” You brush your hand over your son’s head, aware that he will still have to be cleaned up, but he’s only minutes old. “You will show your son you love him by teaching him how to survive this world, to protect those he loves.”

Joel nods, wanting to believe you and he tries despite his demons whispering in his ear about how he is going to fail. He swallows harshly as he leans in to kiss your forehead and he nudges his nose against yours, "can I kiss you?" He asks softly and you nod. He leans in closer to brush his lips against yours, soft and sweet.

You sigh into the kiss, loving how tender it is. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and caress it until the midwife slowly tries to take the baby to clean him up.

Joel pulls back, a slight blush on his cheeks when the midwife winks at him and he watches as she carries the baby over to clean him up and weigh him. “You did so good.” Joel murmurs, kissing your forehead, “you’re so fucking brave.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” You admit ruefully. “It was pretty much be brave or give birth in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckle. “I almost did that anyway.”

“Thank fuck you didnt.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to brush your sweaty hair back out of your face as the midwife wraps your son in a blanket. It’s surreal. Like yesteryear but it’s real life. It doesn’t feel real to Joel to be in a town with this capacity. He’s going to have to leave though to take Ellie on the rest of her journey. 

**** 

Ellie has already bid goodbye to you and Alex and now it’s Joel’s turn. The urge to simply stay where he is. To not go and finish his duty to Ellie is tempting but he is a man of his word and you’re safe here. “I, uh, I’m gonna come back.” He promises softly, reaching down to stroke the baby’s head as you cradle him.

“You better.” You hate that you can’t go with them, but it’s not feasible. You have a two day old child. The best thing you can do is stay right here, where he knows you will be safe. Tommy has already promised to look after you. Looking up, you bite your lip. “I love you, Joel.” You whisper softly. “Be safe.”

His eyes meet yours and he nods, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, conveying the words without saying them out loud. You know how he feels. You’re safe here and that’s what matters to him. “Be good, baby.” He says as he straddles the horse and Ellie shuffles on behind him, clinging to his jacket. Ellie offers you a small wave as Joel nudges the horse to move and he doesn’t look back. He can’t look back at what he’s leaving behind.

**** 

It’s been nearly two months since Joel left. Him and Ellie. Every day you walk to the gates and ask if he’s been spotted, or if there’s been any word. There’s been nothing, but still you continue to hold out hope. Carrying Alex in a little sling around your body, you’ve made friends with the community and slowly turned the house they had let you stay in, into a home for you and your little family when you’re reunited. You have to have hope, you’ll go crazy with worry if you don’t.

Joel lies to Ellie about her rescue. It kills him to lie to her but he has to to protect her. “Come on, let's go home.” He says and the duo are quiet as they make their way back to Jackson, down the mountain and when he enters the gate, he is suddenly exhausted. It’s like the pressure and adrenaline are gone and he’s home. His heart thumps when he stumbles into the town and sees you standing there, his eyes widening as they meet yours.

“Joel?” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the man you have been thinking about for two months. “Joel!” Holding the baby against your chest as you rush towards him. He looks worn, tired and sad in a way you can’t describe, but he’s here. Ellie right behind him. “You’re back!”

Joel wraps his arms around you, the baby between you, and he doesn't hesitate to press his lips to yours. Relieved to be home and find you and Alex safe and sound. His body relaxes, knowing he doesn't have to fight to survive right now at this moment.

You’re surprised by his kiss, figuring that he wouldn’t be the type for public displays. You don’t mind it though, kissing him back fiercely before you break away and look over his shoulder at Ellie. “Good to see both of you.”

He reluctantly steps back so you can hug Ellie. Tommy comes over to slap his back, knowing his brother well enough to know he just needs rest now. "Come on, let's get you all home." He says, walking with you all to get you back to the house you have made a home in their absence.

“I’ve gotten most of the house clean.” You tell them as you walk towards the house. “Ellie….I didn’t know if you were coming back, but I hoped you would. There’s clothes in the closet, clean. And I put some of the books closer to your age on the shelves.”

Ellie smiles at you, half hearted as she tries to reconcile what happened to her but she needs a shower and an actual bed. Joel is quiet as you walk to the house and all he wants is to hold his son, to have a moment where nothing else exists for him except his son. When he enters the house, his shoulders relax properly, sensing this is a home. You’ve made it so comfortable and he loves it, instantly at ease. “I’m gonna go shower.” Ellie says and you nod, “go shower. I’ll make some food.” You say as you work on untying Alex from your body and Ellie heads upstairs to leave you and Joel to your moment.

“I know you have to be tired, but do you want to hold him?” You ask quietly. If he doesn’t, you’ll put Alex in his little swing that hangs in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Joel nods and you transfer the baby to him with a soft coo to Alex who is about to laugh or cry.

Joel looks down at the baby. He’s already changed so much in the two months he’s been gone and he hates how much he’s already missed. “Hey buddy. It’s daddy. Sorry I haven’t been around but I’m back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead.

You can’t help but watch the interaction for a moment, nearly about to cry from hoping and praying it would happen one day. Alex stares up at his father curiously and you smile at the scene, wishing you had a camera. The shower upstairs turns on and you remember that you need to make them something to eat. They have to be starving.

Joel cradles his son, just staring at him, and he realizes that his prior death wish, his blasé attitude to living or dying is over. He has a purpose now. Ellie and Alex. His kids are his purpose in life and he will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

In the kitchen, you start pulling out pans to cook. The eggs you had received this morning will be perfect and there’s still a little bit of the smoked pork. You wonder how long it’s been since Joel has eaten an omelet, you open the refrigerator to pull out the fresh mozzarella you had helped make just the other day.

Joel leans down to kiss Alex’s forehead. “You been a good boy for your mama?” He asks, feeling terrible for having left you alone for so long to look after a newborn. He remembers when Sarah was this age. He was exhausted. Her mother couldn’t bond so it was all on him to make sure the baby was fed, clean, and loved. “Your mama is incredible. She grew you while trekking across the country. In the cold weather. With no shelter. She’s amazing and we are so lucky to have her.”

You hear everything that he says, but you don’t comment on it. Aware that even if you protest, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you set out the ingredients for your meals and start whipping everything together. Alex will want to eat soon, so you want to get this done before he is demanding his own meal.

Ellie comes downstairs about ten minutes later to find Joel cradling the baby. “Can I hold him?” She asks and Joel nods, gently transferring the baby into her arms and she grins, “he’s got your nose.” She says to Joel who snorts and nods, “poor bastard.” Ellie coos, gently rocking the baby as Joel walks into the kitchen to see how things are going with the food. “You need any help?”

“No, I’m good.” You promise, looking over at him and smiling. “If you want to take a shower, the one in the master bedroom feels great.”

"I'll wait until after we eat. Ellie is desperate for food...and so am I." He confesses, stepping closer to gently hold your waist. "I thought of you every damn second I was gone."

“We walked every day to check to see if they had heard anything about you.” You murmur. “We missed you. I missed you.”

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breathing you in, reassuring himself that you’re safe. “Missed you too.” He murmurs, “the food smells good.”

“I know you have to be hungry.” You murmur. “Smoked pork and mozzarella omelets.” You announce. “We’ve started making cheeses and hoping to get the old commercial freezer system working so we can save it.”

“That’s great.” Joel murmurs as you cook and his fingers flex on your waist until he hears Alex crying. “I’ll get him.” He says, kissing your shoulder before he heads back into the living room. 

“I didn’t do anything. He just started crying and I-” Ellie looks panicked but Joel nods and holds his hands out to gently take the baby. 

“It’s okay, baby boy.” He murmurs, rocking the baby and he can tell he’s hungry. “Sweetheart, I think he’s hungry. Let me finish cooking and you take care of our boy.”

“Okay.” You are hesitant to stop cooking, because you want to make the meal for Joel and Ellie, but you take the baby from his father. “Hey, sweet boy, mama’s here. Are you hungry? Is that your problem?” You have gotten used to feeding him and pull your shirt down to pull your breast out. Luckily there was a seamstress in town who could convert any bra into a nursing bra. Alex quiets down the second he senses your nipple and grunts as he latches on and starts to drink.

Joel takes over at the stove but his eyes are fixed on you breastfeeding the baby. He has missed you, thought of you in his every step to get home to Jackson. You’re just as gorgeous as when he left and seeing you with the baby has his heart thumping in his chest. He turns back towards the stove, making sure the food doesn’t burn.

There’s something about Joel and Ellie being here that makes the house seem like home. The atmosphere is even cozier than when it was just you and Alex. The baby gulps down the milk greedily and you watch as Joel finishes the omelets. “The doctors said that he’s healthy. I’m healthy.” You add.

Joel nods, “that’s good.” He watches Ellie as she sits down and asks you if it hurts to have him sucking like that and you chuckle softly and shrug, “sometimes.” 

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “yeah I don’t wanna do that.” She says with conviction, “no kids for me.” 

You nod, “good choice, kid.” Joel shakes his head with a snort and he plates up the food. 

“Dinner’s ready, kid.” Joel says as he places the plates on the kitchen table. “Come eat.” He says despite his own stomach grumbling.

“You two eat.” You tell Joel when he tries to split the food between the three of you. “I’m not hungry right now. I’ve eaten just a little bit ago.” You had eaten already and you want them to enjoy themselves.

Joel doesn’t argue, starving after barely finding anything to eat in the last thirty miles of walking back here. Ellie digs in, no manners as always but he doesn’t reprimand her, knowing that she’s starving too. He groans softly when he digs in, the food hitting his tongue like ambrosia.

You enjoy the way the two of them are eating heartily. “There’s plenty of eggs being produced, so don’t worry about eating all of them.” You laugh quietly. “I’m about egged out myself, but it’s good protein.”

Joel hums around his mouthful, trying to not shove it in but it’s hard when he’s so fucking hungry. “Is there anything else to eat?” Ellie asks, still hungry and she knows she has to mind her manners but fuck, she’s starving.

“There is.” You nod and point towards the refrigerator. “I have some leftovers in there and the microwave actually works now that we’ve got the hydro power working.”

Joel can't remember the last time he used a microwave. Maybe the day Sarah died. He swallows the bite of food and takes a sip of water. "I can take Alex." He offers, wanting to hold his son again now that he is asleep against your chest.

“Okay.” You know that he’s missed time with Alex. He deserves to bond with his son. Handing him off to Joel, you go to the fridge to pull out some more food for Ellie. The light doesn’t work on the inside anymore, but it’s cold.

Joel cradles the sleeping baby, staring at him and memorizing his tiny features. “He’s so beautiful.” Joel murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from the baby as you prepare some more food.

Ellie is wide eyed at the microwave, thinking it might be the coolest thing she’s ever seen and you glance over at Joel and Alex. “He is.” You agree. “And he’s so sweet. Such a good baby. Rarely cries until he needs something.”

“Gets that from you.” Joel chuckles, “resilience and being easy going.” He says knowing how calm and composed you were being pregnant and trekking across the country. “Holy shit that’s amazing.” Ellie gasps as she looks down at the hot food and back to the microwave.

You laugh and nudge her shoulder. “Wonders of the past.” You tease her. “There were whole bunches of kids who couldn’t cook except for a microwave.”

Joel snorts, “pizza rolls were my go to.” He says and leans down to press a soft kiss to Alex’s head, breathing in his scent. You serve the food that Ellie devours and soon Joel stands up with the sleeping baby. “Can you take him, sweetheart? I want to have a shower.” He says, knowing he stinks but he wanted this time with his family first.

“Of course.” You had anticipated that he wanted to shower. After that, he probably wants to sleep for at least a week. You wonder when the last time he actually slept was. “The water should be hot and I’ll grab those clothes that I think will fit you.”

Joel nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he makes his way to the bathroom. He groans when he steps under the hot water, allowing himself to relax for the first time in a long time. He watches the blood and dirt swirl down the drain. The memories of what he did to save Ellie go with the water, letting himself compartmentalize like he always has to avoid the guilt that comes with each person he kills. It was to protect Ellie, to save her life. That’s what he tells himself as he lathers up, “to get back to my family.” He murmurs, unable to regret the actions that brought him home to you and his son with the girl he’s come to love as a daughter.

Downstairs, you clean up the kitchen, Alex in his bouncy chair while Ellie catches you up on everything that happened. Your eyes widen when she tells you that Joel had been stabbed with a baseball bat and almost died, biting your lip to keep from crying the tears that come so easily now. You almost lost him and you didn’t even know. Her face takes on a haunted look, one you can easily interpret and you pat her shoulder gently, telling her that she doesn’t have to talk about it.

Joel rests his forehead on the tile as the water runs over his back. The images of the close calls flashing in his mind and he eventually drags himself out when the water runs cold. He wraps the towel around his waist and he grabs the razor you left on the side for him to cut down the beard that has grown out during his absence.

Once he’s bounced his little heart out, Alex starts to fall asleep in the little chair. It’s reclined position perfect for naps and you had already sent Ellie up to her room to check out the books or take her own nap if she wanted. Just anxiously waiting for Joel so you can talk about what the future might hold for you. You hadn’t stopped loving him, that’s for sure, but he might have realized that he didn’t want a life with you.

Joel comes out of the bathroom to find you setting clothes down on the bed for him, the towel wrapped around his waist and skin still damp from his shower. “Everything okay baby?” He asks as he walks over to you, his hand finding your shoulder.

“Everything’s good.” Your eyes immediately dropping to his side and they widen dramatically. “Oh my god.” You whisper, reaching out and touching the scarred skin. “Ellie told me.”

He sighs softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he stares across the room at the faded carpet. “I thought I was gonna die.” He confesses, “I thought I was gonna die and leave you behind, leave Alex behind. I thought I was going to fail Ellie. She was taken and they nearly-” He chokes, unable to finish the sentence.

“They didn’t. She is-“ you shake your head. “She’s here, and you are here.” You can’t help but move closer, reaching out and caressing his wet hair. “You’re both safe now.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I couldn’t lose her. They - I haven’t told her.” His voice lowers, “the Fireflies…the doctor…they were gonna take her fucking brain. She would’ve died and I couldn’t let that happen so I took her and killed - I killed people trying to save her life. I couldn’t let her die.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes widen in horror and you can’t imagine Joel letting that happen to Ellie. He cares about her so much, he loves her, protects her like she is his own flesh and blood. “You- you did the right thing.” You manage to choke out. “They were going to- to kill her?” Your voice drops to a whisper. “No, fuck no, assholes. They deserved what they got.” You are furious and you would have killed them too when you found out. You don’t blame Joel at all.

He focuses on your hand in his hair as he tries to control his breathing. “She doesn’t know. I- I think she would’ve wanted to die. To give the world a chance to cure the virus but I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t lose her.” He admits, closing his eyes as the pain surges inside of him.

“She should never know.” You immediately agree. “No, she- she wouldn’t understand.” You do. You would die for your son, you would kill for him. Ellie falls into that same category for both you and Joel. “She’s here now. Safe. No one is going to take her away.”

Joel nods, reaching for your hand to squeeze it. “Thank you. For everything. I never - I thought I would be killed at some point and I didn’t care. It’s why I was vicious. I didn’t care if I died but I do now. I want to be here for you and the kids. I love you. I love you.” He rasps, opening his eyes to look at you.

His vow warms you through. Squeezing his hand back, you smile. “I love you too.” You promise softly. “I was so worried about you two, even as busy as I was with Alex. We walked to the gates every day.”

He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “I missed you both every day. Kept me going. Even when I was on my deathbed.” He says as he brushes his lips against yours, gives you a chance to pull back but he wants you, wants to reassure himself that he’s home.

“I’m glad it wasn’t your death bed.” You whisper against his mouth and press closer to him. “You’re home, Joel.”

He reaches for your waist, dragging you closer to press his lips a little harder against yours, his stomach twisting with a sudden need for you. He needs to feel you, to know that he’s home. He’s back with his family. His tongue is about to slide into your mouth until he pulls back. “Where’s Alex?” He asks, wanting to make sure the baby is okay.

“He’s asleep.” You explain softly. The bassinet is in the nursery, making sure that he wouldn’t be disturbed if he wants to sleep. “The baby’s room is right across the hall.”

He nods, reassured that you can hear the baby if he wakes up, and he presses his lips against yours again, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth with a groan. His fingers digging into your waist as he slides his tongue against yours, his cock twitching under his towel.

You groan into his mouth, desperate to be close to him. To know that this emotion is real, that his promise that he loves you is real. Joel has never touched you, just you touching him when you made Alex, so you want to feel his hands on you.

He shifts to lay you down on the bed, pleased for be touching you like this in an actual bed. “Baby, can i- I want to taste you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw as he shifts to straddle you as you shift up the bed to settle against the pillows as he follows your body.

“You can- anything you want.” Joel wants you. It makes your entire body vibrate in pleasure and you bite your lip. Your body has changed since giving birth, he’s seen all of you but you don’t know how he will like the changes.

Joel kisses along your neck, breathing you in and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, dragging it over your head. Your nursing bra is exposed and he wastes no time reaching behind you to unclip it and drag it off of your body. “Jesus.” He hisses when he sees your tits, swollen with milk for his child, and he feels a little feral. “Fuck. Are they sensitive?” He asks before he touches them.

“Not bad.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “They have been toughened up by your son.” You tease. “You can touch them.”

He smiles for a second before he gently cups your breast, lifting it up so he can lean down and take your nipple into his mouth. A squirt of milk enters his mouth and he doesn’t care, it’s natural and your moan of pleasure has his cock twitching.

It’s completely differing having Joel suck on your breasts. The feeling of it making your cunt clench. “Oh god.” You whimper quietly. “The midwife- she- I’m on birth control.” You explain. You don’t know how they had done it, but they had means of birth control here and the old doctor had taught the midwife.

He groans into your flesh at that news, glad that he won’t get you pregnant again so soon after you’ve had Alex. “Are you cleared for sex?” He asks, “are you comfortable? If not, we can - I am happy to just hold you.” He says as he pulls off of your breast to look at you.

“Don’t you dare stop now.” You pant as you look down at him. “I want you. I wanted you the entire time I was carrying Alex.”

He groans, "thank God. Really wanna touch you again. Wanted to when you were pregnant but I didn't think you wanted me like that." He admits and leans down to take your nipple back into his mouth. His hands slide down to your leggings, pushing his hand in to find your wet cunt and he groans around your nipple as he finds your clit.

You are in heaven, loving the attention. His fingers are thick and calloused on your clit, making you moan his name out softly. You don’t want Ellie to hear and give you shit later, so you bite your lip.

His fingers rub your clit, groaning your name as he discovers how wet you are, and his fingers slide lower to push inside of you. He is gentle, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

You whine his name again, loving how tender he is being. It’s as if he wants to make sure this time, only the second time you’ve slept together, is special.

He groans as your walls flutter around his digits and he desperately wants to make sure this time is slow. You’re in control now. No one is holding a gun to your head and he needs you to be all in and enjoy this. Especially with the love that has grown between you. “Baby, need to taste you.” He murmurs as he reluctantly withdraws his fingers from inside of you and he hooks them in your leggings to drag them down your body along with your panties. Once both items are tossed on the floor, he gently spreads your thighs and he leans in to nudge his nose against your thigh, kissing along the sensitive flesh as he breathes you in.

You nearly pass the fuck out. Overwhelmed by just his breath near your cunt. You’ve not had someone go down on you since before the outbreak. “You don’t have to.” You pant, but Joel just huffs lightly against your folds. “I want to.” He insists before he takes a teasing lick of your cunt to taste you.

His groan reverberates through your body as his tongue pushes deep inside of your pussy, groaning your name as he pushes your thighs back to get access to more of you. He’s hungry for you after the first taste and the sound of your moan has him grinding into the mattress. “Fuck. You taste good.” He murmurs before he resumes flicking his tongue over your clit until he’s sucking it between his lips.

Your head tilts back into the pillow, eyes closed as you just feel the way that Joel is taking you apart. Swipe after swipe of his clever tongue until he pulls your clit into his mouth to make you gasp. "Oh fuck." You moan, unable to stop the way your hips roll down. "It's so- fuck, I don't ever remember it being this good. Fuck, Joel."

His fingers dig into your hips and he groans your name into your wet flesh, his hand shifting slowly to circle your entrance. His digits caressing your folds to give you a second in case you don’t want his fingers and just want his tongue but when you moan out “please” he eagerly pushes two inside of you.

You feel full. Not nearly as full as you remember his cock inside you, but better than your fingers. “Joel, baby, fuck, I love your hands.” You whine. “So fucking big. Imagined them on me so many times.”

He loves hearing that you’ve imagined him because he’s imagined you too. So many times. “Baby. Shit.” He hisses as he curls his fingers and resumes sucking on your clit. He wants to hear you cum. He desperately needs it.

His attention being focused on you is nearly too much. Whining as he continues to pull you apart, your fingers twist into the bedsheets and you moan wantonly.

Your moans echo sweetly in his ears and he pumps his fingers a little faster. “That’s it, baby.” He murmurs against your wet flesh before he’s lapping at your clit again. The sounds so sweet and he needs you to cum for me.

It doesn’t take too long before he throws you over the edge. Making you cry out in pleasure as your vision goes white and your entire body lights up as heat floods it.

He groans at the flood of your cum on his fingers, soaking them as you clamp down and he’s eager to push them into his mouth but he also needs to work you through your orgasm. He gently laps at your clit, working you through it before he withdraws his fingers, pushing them into his mouth as you pant against the sheets.

“Joel.” You whimper his name and nearly melt into the bed. “Holy shit, holy shit, you- that was amazing.” You pant out with a giggle. You had expected Joel to want a blow job, not to make you cum. “I- I want you inside me.” You confess, feeling slightly greedy after that.

He nods, needing that too and his wet fingers grip the sheets as he climbs up your body. Your fingers grab his shoulders to caress his skin. His cock is hard and throbbing against your inner thigh as you eagerly spread your legs wider for him. His eyes meet yours, wanting to make sure you want this and when your hungry eyes focus on him, he has his answer. He reaches between you to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he slowly pushes into you, groaning at the wet heat that envelops his cock. “Fuck.” He gasps, turning his head to press his lips against yours as he slowly pushes into you.

It’s even better than the first time. Both of you want this. Both of you need this. You kiss him back, moaning into his mouth while you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him closer until he is firmly embedded, buried to the hilt in your warmth.

He slides his tongue against yours, taking a moment to kiss you while he’s buried inside of you, not moving. Savoring this moment, something he wasn’t sure he’d get to have since he nearly died several times trying to return to you. He takes a moment until it’s too much and he has to move. His hips move back slightly until he pushes into you again, slow and unhurried.

It’s slow, methodical. Love making in every sense of the word. Every rolls of his hips is softened by your own arch, meeting him as your legs tighten around the back of his thighs. He lets his weight down onto you slowly when he pushes his arms underneath your body and you love the feel of him. Surrounding you and completely overriding all your senses.

You feel like home. That’s the only way Joel can describe this feeling. He feels like he’s back where he belongs and his heart pounds in his chest. His hips press against yours as he rocks into you, deep and slow.

Your lips press together and your tongues tangle while he slowly fucks you. Unless Alex wakes up or Jackson is attacked, there’s nothing stopping you from taking all the time in the world. Your fingers drift up and down the planes of his back, feeling the muscles moving.

He kisses along your jaw, loving the way you clench around him when he adjusts his hips. He’s trying to find that spot that makes you moan but he’s in no rush. Joel feels safe and secure for the first time in years and he desperately wants to cling to that feeling. His hips pushing deep again and when you cry out against his cheek, he grins in victory and focuses on that same angle.

When he’s determined, Joel doesn’t stop. When he finds that spot, he presses against it again and again, groaning at the way you squeeze him in response. You could sob from how good it feels, but you don’t want to make him think for a second you regret this.

Every rock of his hips has him hinting that spot and he grabs your breast, squeezing it and he arches so he can bend down to take your nipple into his mouth, gently biting down. “You close?” He asks, needing to know in case you need something else to send you over the edge.

"Fuck yesssss." you hiss, pulling him back down so he can suck on your tit again. Even if you weren't, you wouldn't mind. feeling too amazing for words.

He hums around your nipple, pleased that you’re close as he keeps his thrusts the same angle and speed, feeling you tense beneath him and he knows you’re close. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Cum for me.” He murmurs into your skin.

Your nails dig into his back, but you don't think that he minds. Not the way his thrusts have started becoming harsher. Short and deep, like he's trying to stop himself from cumming before you do. One more thrust and you are crying out wordlessly, unable to even articulate a praise as you fall apart around him.

He loves it. Addicted to this already even after having you when you got pregnant with Alex. He works you through it, rocking his hips and he’s so close. It’s been so long since he was inside of you - of any woman - and it doesn’t take long. A half dozen more thrusts and he’s pushing deep, filling you up with his hot seed after you told him earlier it was safe. His lips pressing against your neck as he pants.

“So good, baby.” You whimper quietly, closing your eyes as you feel him relax against you. His cock is still throbbing inside you and it’s probably the best feeling in the world. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” He murmurs, shifting to nudge his nose against yours. He’s so grateful he made it home to you and Alex with Ellie still alive and well. He kisses you softly while he softens inside of you, unwilling to move. He doesn’t want to move from this house, this town. He’s found peace finally and he will fight tooth and nail to keep it. To keep his family safe, he’d do anything. For now, Joel wants to enjoy his serenity and he kisses you with a smile, excited for his future in Jackson. It’s secure and safe…what could possibly go wrong?

[sinsofsummers]

cool about it

3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader

summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one

It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.

You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.

And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.

i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.

"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."

So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.

When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.

The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.

Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.

When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.

He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.

You'd left it at that, for a year or two.

once i took your medication to know what it's like

He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.

It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.

"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.

Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.

You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.

It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.

Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.

When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.

"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.

You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.

Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.

The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.

i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie

One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.

These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.

A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.

His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.

You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.

With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.

Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.

Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.

You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.

How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?

"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.

As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.

"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.

You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.

Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.

Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.

The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.

You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.

Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.

His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.

Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.

You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.

One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.

He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.

Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.

But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.

He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.

He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."

You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."

He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.

You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.

Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.

You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."

"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.

You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.

The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.

"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.

He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.

You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.

but we don't have to talk about it

i can walk you home and practice method acting

i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

even though we know it isn't true

Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.

Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.

tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all

[covetyou]

the dark caress of someone else

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, threesome (mff), oral (f and m receiving), bi reader, unprotected P in V, creampie, praise kink, spit kink, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, one singular queef (I'm not sorry), one face slap (with a dick)word count: 6.2k chapter summary: After a little white lie, you go to pick up your dads medication, only to be met by an angry Joel and a (not so) surprise visitor.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for this silly little series. I appreciate your amazing comments so much, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.

Piggy in the middle is fuckin difficult man. But I guess life imitates art and sometimes there do just be too many holes, hands and other body parts to keep track of. Also pls excuse me but I'm, like, really bi. And Anna Torv's Tess has my whole entire pussy heart.

this part is dedicated to 'The Sweaty Javi' and 'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter' (courtesy of the wonderful @morallyinept). thank you for your services. (pls drink responsibly)

also a shout out to slasher!joel's big ol' balls (spawned by @toxicanonymity) they've been on my mind literally all week and you would not believe the ball content I had to cut from this. only a smidgen of balls remain, but the balls are there in spirit. thanks for the ballspo bb.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: someone new by Hozier dividers: @saradika

Your dad shook as he threw back his last pill, swallowing dry before chasing it down with a sip of water. He'd been making weak comments about needing to get more all week and you'd always stopped him. You didn't want him to go. You wanted to go.

You both knew that the pushback was all for show, but now a little white lie meant the show was over, for him at least.

"Joel doesn't want you coming to get your pills yourself anymore," you'd told him. It was a barefaced lie, but felt better than telling him the truth. How, exactly, do you tell your dad you're whoring yourself to his drug dealer?

You were fairly certain your dad knew what kind of man Joel Miller was. A Nice Man to some, maybe, but his reputation preceded him. He was known for helping out people when they got into tricky spots. Not all the time, of course, but when you had something he took a fancying to, he'd be more than willing to come to an agreement. Maybe your dad already knew what you were doing for him, for you. Maybe he noticed you had more ration cards these days, a spring in your step. You wondered if he cared, if he'd ever try to stop you.

You make your way to the nicer part of the QZ again the next day. You have a free shift and, despite your dad's protests that you should go spend it with friends, you find yourself climbing chipped steps to an empty hallway once more.

You had left the last time with the slick of oil between your cheeks, down your legs, between your thighs. It had taken days to wash off completely. You didn't mind one bit - whenever you moved the slick of it reminding you of him buried in you to the hilt, fucking you half to death in a way you'd never imagined. Embarrassment, shame, you shouldn't like this, melding together and melting away as he pummelled into you from behind. You'd practically rubbed yourself raw thinking about it, but it was never quite enough.

Uncontrollable excitement thrums through you as you approach his door. And, well, you should have known.

Each time you turn up to Joel Miller's door thinking you know what to expect, and each time you're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It seems this time is no different.

You hear it before you even get to the door. Raised voices - a man shouting, a girl crying. You hear muffled snippets of the argument - "fuckin' daddy" here, "you're an asshole" there. You don't want to leave, but the sound of it makes you nervous. The unexpected usually hit when you were already trapped inside Joel's apartment, not when you were waiting in the corridor for the door to open.

You decide to turn and leave, you can come back later or another day, your dad can wait. You can wait. But then the door is opening and a topless brunette is rushing out into the hallway, nearly knocking into you in the process. Tears are streaming down her face as she shoves her arms into her t-shirt, hurrying away muttering "asshole" under her breath.

You watch as she leaves, turning your head back to the open door only when you see movement out the corner of your eye.

You'd never seen him like this. White fury burned behind his eyes as he came to slam the door in the girl's wake. He sees you and halts, fingers gripping the wood so tight you think it might splinter.

"Where's your daddy," he snarls at you.

"At home, in bed. He needs-"

"I know what he fuckin' needs. Get in."

He stalks away from the door, leaving it wide open for you to enter. You follow him in. You'd been trapped in here with him before, but it never felt like this. The fear you had before was because of the unknown, the new - he was a strange man in a strange place. Now he was a man you somewhat knew and trusted, yet in this moment you feared him. You were suddenly keenly aware that he could hurt you, really actually hurt you, if he wanted to.

A cupboard door clanks shut, making you jump, then his imposing figure is stomping back over to you. Grabbing your hand, he wretches it open, pushes a pill packet into your palm, and closes it into a fist around the plastic.

"You can see yourself out," he growls before walking away from you, leaving you standing there, confused.

You frown as you look between the pills he'd just given you and him. "But -"

"But fuckin' what," he yells, turning on you. "I gave you what you want, now go."

You're a fucking idiot, poking the already angry bear, but you step forward anyway. "That's not what I want."

He scoffs at you, hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief. You felt small just because of the size of him usually, but now he was making you feel small in other ways.

"Use me."

"Use you? You want me to use you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "That's what this is, right? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want." He'd said it himself last time, and now here you were using his own words against him.

"And you think using you is what I want?"

You look him straight in the eye, balls bigger than the universe and say, "Yes."

Angry feet drag him to you, toes stopping barely an inch away from your own. He stares down at you, challenging you to look away, but you crane your neck and keep your eyes locked with his.

When he brings one massive hand gently to your neck, holding your gaze, you try not to flinch. Joel notices, fiery gaze briefly softening, he doesn't want you to be scared of him, and allows the cradle of his hand to push against your throat. You feel your pulse thunder beneath his palm just before the pressure releases.

"You got one last hole I ain't tried yet," he murmurs, dragging the rough pad of his thumb up your jaw and across the swell of your bottom lip. You fight not to kiss it, to take it into your mouth and show him how useful you can be.

The hand drags down your body, fingertips pulling at the neckline of your shirt, before he reaches its hem. You think he's going to put a hand up it, feel your bare skin underneath. Instead he bunches the fabric taught against your chest in one fist, yanking you even closer to him, his fist keeping you from falling flush against his torso.

"Take this off," his breath whispers across your face.

Grip loosening on your shirt, you try not to stumble back as you pull your shirt over your head, cheeks heating when you briefly get it caught on your chin. You weren't wearing a bra today, but if he notices he doesn't react.

Fingers tug at your belt loops. "And these."

You unbutton your pants, pulling them down your legs and off your body, taking your shoes with them. You try not to think about if the other girl was this dressed when Joel decided to kick her out.

Joel kicks your clothes away from you, you watch them skid across the floor, pill packet clattering along with them, before turning back, the fire in his eyes back and all softness forgotten.

"On your fuckin' knees."

You thud to your knees and look up at him. He takes a step back, as if he suddenly doesn't trust himself to be close to you. The thought of him actually hurting you crosses your mind again - you wonder if that'd turn you on the same as the other things he does, the things he does to hurt but make you feel good too. Maybe it would. Maybe if he really wanted to you'd let him.

His eyes rake down your body, taking in your bare tits, nipples hardened under the chill of the room, down the swell of your stomach, across the meat of your thighs and to the dampness forming on the front of your panties.

"Want me to use you, huh?" he says, nostrils flaring as his hands flex beside him.

Your eyes flick to his crotch. You'd only been this close to him in your fantasies, but you find you're salivating just as much as you do in your dreams, aching to run your hands across him and really, finally, feel him.

As if reading your mind, his hand caresses across the front of his pants. Where there had been nothing but the soft shape of him before was a growing tent as he hardened before you. "You want this?"

You nod.

He threads a hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp and cradling your head in his palm. He forces your head back further, until you're looking directly up at him.

"You're gonna have to ask nicely for it, sweetheart."

"Please can I have it," you beg, sounding as needy as you feel. You've never needed anything more than you need this. You know he can see it in your face, in the way you lick your lips as you take him in.

He yanks his pants down in an instant, cock bouncing from their confines. He grabs it in his fist, large hand stroking gently up his length to tug at his tip as he grows. It looks huge in his hand, but you know it'd look so much bigger in yours.

You look up at him wide eyed as you watch him stroke himself. A few strokes and he's solid already. For all you've done with him, for how you've had him inside you, you've never seen it this close. Never seen how veins ripple under skin, foreskin moves back with the movement of his hand to reveal his flushed tip, slit beckoning you to taste.

"Please can I have your co- "

The hard length of him collides harshly with the side of your face. Your lips part in a gasp. You stop yourself from chasing it and engulfing it with your mouth. He hasn't said you could, and you're not stepping a toe out of line. He needs you to be good.

"You really want it?" he teases.

You nod frantically. You must look dumb, like one of those nodding dog ornaments from years ago - glassy eyed and head bobbing at just about anything.

"Kiss it." You do, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss to one side of his tip, then the other, before placing an even softer kiss to his slit. There's a thrill knowing you'd never kissed any part of him before, knowing that the first time you'd pressed your lips to him it was to his cock. If anyone ever found out maybe you'd be embarrassed, but here, in this room, all you wanted was more.

Swallowing heavily and lifting his shaft, he pulls your head closer to him. "Kiss 'em. They wanna feel good too, sweetheart."

You place more soft kisses across the delicate skin of his balls, pushing down the temptation to taste him. Your eyes never leave his face, and his never leave yours. He looks so horny he could smash you through a fucking wall, and you don't think you'd mind if he did.

You keep kissing until he pulls your head back. He's started gently stroking himself again, getting himself off as he watched you worship his balls.

"You wanna taste?"

"I wanna taste," you swallow, sinking down as you spread your knees wide to stop the temptation of rubbing your thighs together, desperate for relief he hasn't said you can have.

"Show me how much you want it."

You snap your jaw open for him, eager to taste more than the swipe of cum he'd spread over your lips weeks ago, as he fists his cock gently over your face. He's teasing you with it still when a whine catches in your throat.

Another tug to your hair tilts your head back, but your eyes strain down to look at the bead of cum that's about to drip from the tip of him. He leans over you, cock in hand and your head held in the other. You watch as he spits down into your mouth, saliva cooling as it falls from his mouth to yours, landing cold on your waiting tongue.

"Good girl. So desperate for it. Keep it open." He moves his dripping tip to your mouth before you can react, swiping it across your tongue, mixing his precum with your, and his, saliva.

You hear it before he does - the sound of a key jingling and a lock turning. It startles you, fright springing across your face as he frowns down at you. You keep your mouth open as the door swings open behind you, exposing your naked body to the hallway and whoever has just entered.

"You home, old man?" a familiar voice you can't place calls out, before the very same voice lets out a low whistle when it catches sight of you.

The door is kicked shut, and there's a thud on the table. Joel is still brandishing his cock as he stares daggers over your head at the intruder. Your fucking mouth is open.

"You mind? I'm busy," he says, wiping the tip of his cock over your tongue again. You salivate at the salty taste of him and try to swallow.

Light footsteps head toward where you kneel on the floor before Joel, knees spread, head up, eyes darting between his face and his grip on his cock.

"Well then, hello there pretty girl." You remember that voice.

Finally letting your eyes flick to the side, you see her. Tess. She seems to recognize you at the same time as you do, a smile pulling across her face as your mouth falls slack in shock.

She'd been your fathers dealer before you were handed off one day to a new one. Your dad hadn't given details on why, but you had a feeling you knew. She'd helped you once too, when a few too many sick days had meant too few cards to get by. That had been your first time on your knees for someone at the promise of pills, and at the time you thought it would be your last.

Joel watches as she approaches and looks down at you on your knees. His hand hasn't left his cock, and he's tugging on himself as he watches, another bead of precum you desperately want to lick collecting at his head. He moves his hand from its place in your hair and starts stroking his heavy balls with it as he watches you.

"How's your daddy?" she pouts in mock empathy before addressing Joel, laughing.

"Gotta say, didn't expect this when I handed 'em off to you. Told you the daughter's mouth was good, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't know, I was only just about to find out," he grits out. His hands are still slowly working over himself as he talks to her. You watch as his eyes roam up and down her body, then flick to you down at his feet. Your body heats as you watch him ogle her - you think it may be jealousy until your own eyes trail the same path down her body before resting back on Joel. What difference is there between jealousy and desire, really.

"The first time you get to mess with one, and I get to witness it? Lucky me," she grins as she watches Joel thread a hand back through your hair, drawing your attention back to him completely.

"S'not the first time," he whispers as he pulls you forward, nodding at you to open your mouth once more.

"Then what the fuck have you been doing with her?"

Joel rolls his eyes at her, instead opting to feed the head of his cock into your mouth.

Your mouth engulfs his tip, warm and wet, he sucks in a breath closing his eyes, grip tightening in your hair. You let your tongue swirl around him, feeling the ridge of his head and tasting the bitter sweet salt of his cum on his skin. Your fingers curl into the rough fabric of his pants, anchoring you to him as you bob your head over his tip, circling your tongue over every inch of it.

"Oh fuck, that's right," he moans. "That taste good?"

He looks down as you nod, your moan of confirmation around his cock pulling another groan from his chest as his eyes fall closed again.

"Fuck yeah, it does."

Tess had all but gone from your mind until you hear the tap of shoes on the floor, and feel as she crouches beside you. A soft hand comes to your face, stroking the hollow of your cheek as you suck more of Joel's cock into your mouth.

You feel soft lips press a kiss to that very same hollow, the feeling of being kissed making you sigh. His eyes snap open, he'd been so lost in the feeling of your mouth on him that he hadn't noticed Tess's approach either. Now he was looking down at two women at his feet, eyes burning holes into yours where they fluttered in your head.

She begins nuzzling your hair, your neck, placing soft kisses across your bare skin. You keep your focus on Joel, staring at him with the same intensity he stares at you. Soft hands start to roam up and down your body, squeezing your chest, pinching your nipples, dragging short nails across your stomach, her every move making you shudder.

"Can't say I ever imagined a sweet little thing like you doing this," she whispers into your ear. You can hear the sickly sweet smile in her voice.

You moan into Joel's cock as she touches you, taking yet more of him into your mouth. You want to touch it, hold the heft of it in your hand, but you never have before. You don't know if you're allowed. You inch your hand up his pants to his crotch, stroking the exposed skin at the base of him with your fingertips. The hand in your hair twitches, and you hear a strangled moan from above you.

"Fuuck."

Another shift of your hand and your hand wraps around his thick base, fingertips unable to meet even if you squeezed. Holding him steady, you can finally angle him down so you can draw more of his cock into your mouth. You flick your tongue along his tip again as you swallow around him with a moan.

"That's it. Show me how much you can take."

At the instruction, Tess knocks his hand away from your hair, bringing both of her own to hold either side of your head. She fucks your mouth up and down his length, Joel moaning deep as his hand finds yours on his pants and grips your fingers tightly.

You'd been longing to feel his lips on yours so much that you'd never considered what his hand might feel like on yours. It's the opposite of electric - the heavy heat of his rough hand grounding you, finally, as you take him in in full clarity.

"Shit that's good," he sighs as you're dragged along him by Tess's hands.

"You hear that? He thinks you're doing a good job," Tess says from beside you, pushing your head down to take more of him with a kiss to your cheek.

You start to gag as she pushes you down - it had been so long since you'd done this, and Joel's size wasn't exactly forgiving to the less experienced - but you carry on, moaning again when the welcome distraction of Tess's body pushes against yours.

"Nothin' but a cocksucking slut, huh?" Joel murmurs down to you almost affectionately, moving a stray hair from across your face. Yes you want to say, but it comes out a garbled mess as Tess laughs at you once again.

With another firm push of your head, your mouth slips down and takes Joel even further to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter, trying to push yourself back using your hand against Joel's thick thighs, but Tess holds you down with his cock buried in your throat. Joel's hand grips yours tighter still.

"Don't," he snarls. "If I wanted her chokin' on it I'd fuck her face."

"Maybe I want her to choke on it," Tess counters from beside you with another laugh, but she relents anyway.

You pull back with a gasp and take a gulp of air before kissing the tip of his cock. You don't want to let go of it for a minute. You lick long stripes up his length, collecting the strings of saliva you'd left behind, before encasing him in your mouth once more. If you were anywhere else you'd maybe feel shame at your need for him, and your need to please him, but the heat of their eyes burning into you does nothing but light a fire between your legs.

Tess sees it, moving a hand down from bobbing your head on Joel's cock, down your bare torso and cupping your clothed pussy. Her slender fingers feel so much more delicate compared to Joel's thick calloused ones as they rub over you, your moans muffled by the fullness of the cock in your mouth.

"She's so wet, Joel," you hear her say through Joel's groan and the blood rushing in your ears.

Your hips start to rock into Tess's hand of their own accord, aching to find more friction and finally get some relief. She yanks your panties to the side, using one of her fingers to trace the seam of you before gently tickling your clit. If she could only feel how damp you were before, she could definitely feel the drip of slick from your cunt now.

Slender fingers plunge into you, fucking your desperate hole with force as you work your mouth over Joel's cock. You're left empty for half a second before her fingers are back in you, more this time, stretching you further so suddenly that your legs widen to accommodate the pull of fingers inside you.

"All four fingers, good girl," Tess coos.

"Four?" grunts Joel. Tess nods, laughing, and Joel throws his head back with a groan.

"I bet we could fit a whole hand up here," she says with another kiss to your cheek.

You were naive before to think she wouldn't, couldn't, hurt you the way you thought Joel could. You were wrong, you realized now, as her fingers plunged into you, stretching wide, words taunting in your ear as she forced your head back and forth over Joel's cock.

Her fingers leave your cunt entirely, leaving you empty and gaping. She pulls you off of Joel, replacing his cock in your mouth with her glistening fingers. You clean your own slick from them, moaning at the tang of your own pussy mixing with the flavor of Joel still on your tongue. His eyes never leave you and his hand never gives up its grip on yours.

"You like the taste of pussy, don't you?" Tess whispers in your ear, pushing you back onto Joel.

"Mhm."

"I think we can do something about that," she murmurs. "Can't we Joel." You both look up at him from your knees. He growls, nodding stiffly.

You're being hauled to your feet and pushed to the couch before you know what's going on. The blood rushes to your head and the room spins when you're pushed roughly over the arm, watching as Tess unbuttons her pants and pulls them down her legs.

She lounges back on the other arm of the sofa, spreading her legs and beckoning you to come between them. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard wood of the floorboards as you crawl over, settling between her soft thighs and looking up at her with parted mouth. You would do anything right now, desperate for any relief from anyone.

Joel has followed behind, watching your ass sway as you crawled to her. Your panties are still skewed to the side, and you know he's looking at the mess of arousal between your legs. Tess may have been the one with her fingers buried in you, but you hope he knows he's just as responsible for your glistening cunt.

"C'mon," he growls, landing a swat to your ass. "Lemme see you eat that pussy."

You stare at Tess's bare cunt, feeling needy in ways you can't even explain, and move to lower your head, eager to taste her again.

She grabs you by the hair before your mouth can touch her.

"No teasing now. You remember what I told you?" You nod. You remembered every fucking part - exactly how she liked to come undone. Sometimes you imagined her doing the same to you.

She pulls your face down toward her cunt, and you stick out your tongue, hungry to taste her. You lick her gently at first, small licks across the swelling of her clit and her flushed lips. You lick further down, parting her folds to taste at her entrance - for all her laughing and teasing, her pussy was as much of a traitor as yours when exposed like this. She was dripping.

Joel's rough hands pull your ass toward him, dragging your panties down to your knees, hobbling you. The couch dips and creaks behind you as he brings a foot up to better line up with your hole. The wetness of his cock slides through your slick folds once, twice, then notches the tip at your entrance before he pushes in in one, sheathing himself completely in the heat of your body. You moan and gasp around Tess's clit, never stopping the movement of your tongue.

"Not sure she can handle it," she half chuckles, half moans.

"She can," grits out Joel. "S'taken worse." He slides out and punches all the way back in again, the feeling of his hips snapping against your ass so much less overwhelming when his cock was in your pussy and not your ass. You try desperately to keep up the movements of your mouth, wanting to feel Tess come undone at your hands, but blocking out Joel entirely is impossible with the distracting pound of his cock into you.

Tess grabs more of your hair, pulling it away from your neck and giving him a better view of you and her cunt.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart," he groans now that he can see more clearly. "Lick that pussy."

"Been a while since you had multiple girls over, huh?" Tess taunts, throwing her head back before Joel can reply.

He nods, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusts forward. "Too fuckin' long." He groans again, meaty hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and pulling you apart at the seams as he pounds into you.

You slip a finger into her wet heat, curling it upwards as you feel inside of her. She's as slick as you, and you wonder if she's ever taken Joel as you have. The thought makes you moan again, just as Joel picks up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you so hard your mouth jerks over Tess's cunt.

You try to steady yourself, fluttering your tongue flutters over Tess's clit, circling and suckling it into your mouth. You ignore the sensation building inside you as Joel's balls smack against your neglected clit each time he buries himself in you. It's too many feelings, too many sensations all at once.

Joel's hips stutter as he slams his cock into you, chasing his own release, already so close after you'd had him in your mouth for so long. Even closer from watching Tess tease you with her fingers buried in your needy cunt, watching your tongue lathe over hers.

You hear a strangled "Fuck" before he slams his hips forward again, slick cock slipping deep inside you as he floods your pussy with warm, wet cum. You moan into Tess's clit as you feel yourself heat from the inside out.

"Shit. Shit," he sighs from behind you. You want to turn to look at the fucked out look on his face. You nearly do.

"Don't stop, almost there," pants Tess, almost begging you with your face still buried in her wet heat, lapping at her clit with a finger curled inside her. "Pretty girl, almost there," she croons, stroking your hair and rocking into your face.

Gentle circles on her clit turn firmer, more rapid, and the hand in your hair grips you tighter as you pull her release from her. She grinds against your face, pussy throbbing as you lick her pulsing clit through her orgasm.

That same hand yanks you back a moment later, too sensitive to continue, before she relaxes back into the couch with a sigh.

"She's good, Joel," she breathes, a hand idly stroking your hair. You hear Joel grunt in agreement from behind you, his hands still holding onto your ass, and your cheeks heat with the praise.

He moves away, pulling his cock from where it had softened inside you, watching as a small trickle of cum escapes to drip down to your neglected clit.

"Looks like you earned your meds today," Tess laughs, patting your cheek, before standing to pull her pants back on without another word to you.

Still on your hands and knees on the couch, you watch her approach Joel, kissing him on the side of the mouth as he stares, breathing deeply, at your ass. His cum is still dribbling out of you. You flip to sit back on your ass, trying to stop its escape making too much of a mess on his furniture.

She whispers something into his ear, moves to the door, looks at you with a smirk one last time before opening it and leaving.

The door snaps shut, and she's gone.

As soon as the door closes he's on you again, pushing you back down into the couch with a growl. The air is knocked out of you as your back thuds down and he hoists your legs back, folding you in two.

Holding you down and open, the wetness of his mouth engulfs your pussy, slurping your clit into his mouth.

He's devouring you, eagerly eating all of his cum out your hole and cleaning you of his creamy spend.

You moan and twitch beneath him, having spent the last fuck knows how long with your mouth full but the desperate need in your pussy neglected. You'd hoped he could fuck an orgasm out of you, but as soon as the pressure of his cock in you had gotten good, the slap of his balls against your clit hard enough to send a thrill through you, he'd stuttered to a stop, leaving you with an aching pussy and nothing to show for it.

A strong arm pins you down, keeping your legs back, feet in the air. Two of his thick fingers thrust into you, before he pulls them out, licking them clean, then he plunges three straight back in, stretching you more than Tess's four ever had and making you whine, high pitched and needy, for more.

You're so close, so near to falling over the edge, but his desperate licks are too desperate, not focussed enough on your oversensitive pussy, too frantic. You feel like you've been edged for hours, but your clit has barely been touched until now. It's been left starving, aching for attention.

"Joel!" you ground out desperately, looking between your thrown back legs where he feasts on you. His eyes catch you, catch the desperation, the need, and he slows down, honing in on your clit, lapping in steady circles, fingers pumping deeply.

Your toes curl, tears come to your eyes and your bottom lip quivers. You nod at him. He's found it. Exactly what you need, the exact spot. He's relentless now, his tongue moving over, and over, and over as his eyes lock with yours.

"Ohhhnnnnng."

"That's it," you feel him mumble into your clit. "Good girl."

And you're cascading over the edge, into a pit of white heat, different but similar to the one in his eyes when you first saw him today. You shudder and jerk, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud drawing wave after wave out of you as your pussy spasms around his fingers, gripping them tight and tethering you down as you writhe.

You twitch with oversensitivity and Joel finally stops, tongue leaving your clit, lips pressing firmly to your mound instead as he breathes you in. Your body heaves and you sink further into the couch, stomach muscles finally letting you unfurl from where you'd chased your orgasm so desperately.

"Fuck," he groans so close you can feel his lips move on your skin. All you can do is nod weakly in response. "You okay?" You nod again, not trusting your voice and still not entirely sure you're conscious.

His thick fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, and his hands gently guide your legs down to rest on the couch. Blood is still pounding through your ears, but you hear and feel it... the air that Joel's fingers had pumped into you chooses that moment to escape in one humiliating gust.

Your face drops with embarrassment, and you hear Joel laugh from between your legs.

"Sign of a job done good," he laughs, kissing down onto your pussy, tongue gently swiping along your sensitive clit again. You try to wiggle away, letting out another rumble, fucking fuck, and immediately still as Joel laughs more.

"You done?" he says into your cunt, spreading you slightly to look at your spent hole then to you. "I think she's good." He kisses your clit once more and sits back, stretching his back out on the sofa with his arms behind his head.

You both sit there in silence, recovering your breath and coming back down to earth. Your knees knock together as your legs relax. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, and let the chill of the room cool your sweaty body and the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.

Much sooner than you'd like, you feel Joel start to move.

"I ain't mad at you, y'know," he says softly as he tucks his cock back into his pants. "Was never mad at you. Just mad."

You knew that already, but hearing him say it still made you feel better. It made you feel like you'd done the right thing, that you hadn't pulled him into something he didn't want. You were justified, you were right. He wanted, needed, to use you as much as you needed to be used.

"You should get goin'," he moves to stand as he speaks, walking away from the couch and from you.

"But -"

He shuts you up with a single look. You sit up wordlessly, casting your eyes down. He was right - what exactly would you even be staying for, really, other than because some part of you wanted to.

You dress in silence, panties still around your knees pulled up, clothes thrown on haphazardly, pills stuffed into an empty pocket. Joel doesn't watch this time, instead he rifles through the box left by Tess. You never see into it, but you watch his profile shift and change as he reacts to what she left for him.

You move closer to the table, making way to leave his apartment without another word, when he's closing the box and speaking.

"I've had a vasectomy," he says pointing to your now covered crotch. "So, y'know... should be fine."

"Oh." You hadn't even thought about it. You didn't even care. "You... you could've done that in my mouth too. I wouldn't have minded."

"Your mouth was occupied," he smirks with a shrug. "Besides, if I wanted to, I would've."

He gestures for you to leave, so you do, Joel following you to the door as you go. You open it yourself, just as Tess had, and walk out. You don't have time to finish saying thank you before the door is shut behind you, leaving you alone in the corridor yet again. You make your way home in silence.

You dream that night of soft lips on your cheek, softer hands roaming your body. The softness morphs and distorts, growing larger and more ragged. Rough hands drag along you, and the scruff of a beard scratches your face as a kiss too delicate to be real comes impossibly close to your mouth.

You wake in a sweat, heat pulsing through your veins and your cunt throbbing between your legs.

You'd come in your sleep to nothing but desperate thoughts of a kiss you'd never had.

next part

tag list: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @noisynightmarepoetry @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

[pedgito]

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Delusions of Fantasy

Chapter Summary: Settling into the semester, you find yourself in an unsuspecting position with your professor, meetings that shouldn't feel so secret but do and an assignment that may change the course of things for the better...or much worse. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, professor!joel miller (his teacher persona is v different from outside of the classroom, so if he seems slightly ooc....close your eyes), dom!joel, sub!reader, reader is a little obsessed with joel (and delusional), mentions of infidelity (not by joel), sarah doesn't exist here, background tess x joel, inappropriate relationships/actions, talks of literature and lots of random writing topics, more dream smut that translates into writing, gratuitous descriptions of mr. miller's body and personality, joel is conspicuously toeing the line of lusting after a student while reader is very obvious, some unspoken sexual tension

— AO3 | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec

You weren’t sure when days would begin to blur, pulling all-nighters to finish assignments that you kept putting off until the absolute last minute. But, the small coffee shop on the edge of campus has become your pseudo-home, early mornings and occasional nights when you need the extra energy boost or focus. 

There was a perfect little nook in the corner of the coffee shop that was hidden behind a wall. A small alcove that was usually empty—at least, it was when you tried to use it. And you find yourself there on a lonely night, crisp autumn air biting at your skin as you slip into the coffee shop. It’s mostly empty at this hour and you order your usual drink of choice before you’re slipping around the corner with your coffee in hand, startled by the sight before you.

“Oh, shit—Mr. Miller—” You stammer, stepping back awkwardly as you almost run into his arm that is flipping a pen between his fingers, his gaze flicking up to you curiously.

He’s just as surprised to see you here, but ultimately, it makes more sense in retrospect.

He had a house, an office (both here on campus and at home), but he preferred a place like this, surrounded by the smell of coffee and the gentle ambience. He could’ve gone home to Tess and gave up grading and preparing assignments, but that didn’t sound appealing either. He finds the more he’s in Tess’s presence, the worse his thoughts wonder.

That maybe escaping to the coffee shop would push you from his mind, but here you were, in the flesh, and Joel couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He offers a curt nod, polite. Part of him expects you to just…go away. But, he has the idea that he’s probably taking up your usual study spot. Before he entertains the idea of leaving, you take a seat silently in the chair across from him, holding up your hand.

“No, it’s fine—you don’t have to leave or anything.” You tell him assuredly, opening up your laptop as you settle into your spot, eyes connecting with his over the edges of your screen, his expression looking a little more jaded than your own.

You were exhausted, but he was exhausted and upset. You couldn’t be sure at what, but there was the glaring fact that he was here, nearing midnight, when he could easily be at home. You didn’t question it though, finding that if you wanted to, you could wear him down enough to talk.

“So,” After a long stretch of silence and his silent typing away at his keyboard and you still staring at a mostly blank screen, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get much work done with him around, thoughts and eyes wondering curiously, “I read those books you suggested.”

Ah, right. The email he’d sent on a whim. A lapse of judgment after the fact, seeing how it could be misconstrued, knowing it could be viewed as inappropriate.

The thoughts he was having were inappropriate, but even then, he knew he would never entertain it. And shit, you’re still looking at him, expecting some type of answer.

“Did you enjoy them?” He asks simply, no elaboration or asking for much.

 Just a simple yes or no.

There’s an angst that settles in your gut over his acknowledgment of the email, nodding quietly.

You had, truthfully. It was a few poem books he said were his favorites, and you could see where your interests intertwined, finding that the tone in the poems he enjoys reading is what you also enjoy reading.

Angst, dread, intense feeling that was hard to ignore.

And truthfully, Mr. Miller was impossible to ignore.

“I read them the other night,” You add, pulling up a half-finished assignment from your English course, “you’ve got…good taste.”

Joel chuckles quietly at that, easing slightly in his seat. Part of him was worried, even if his intentions were in the right place, that things may be misconstrued. He breaths out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“I figured you’d enjoy them.” He smirks slightly.

You feel your cunt clenching at the subtlety, crossing one leg over the other as you find a hauty comparison to his words, thought flashing through your mind.

You’d gone to bed with the words of the poems on your mind that night, but the voice wasn’t lacking in tone or voiceless—in fact, it was his voice. His words as he pumped one, two, and then three fingers into you over his desk, hands clenched into his shirt as you held onto him like a lifeline, only surfacing back to reality just as you were about to come.

But, he didn’t need to know that.

And you didn’t need to know how desperate he fucked himself into a lonely fist when he was pent up from work (which was more often than not, lately) with the image of you on his mind.

He’s never had thoughts like this and he can’t comprehend why—part of him wants to blame Tess and her choices and the stress it has put on his marriage. But, Joel has been checked out for a while and this, even though only in the confines of his mind, feels like an even worse betrayal.

“You should send me more.” A soft sip on your coffee as you stare flirtatiously over the rim of your cup—cool it, you tell yourself. But, it doesn’t work.

There’s a small twitch in his face, the deepest hint of a smile saying—yeah, I’ll challenge that—but it quickly fades. 

“Just…if you want to,” You add, playing things subtly, carefully, “if that’s okay?”

Joel knows he shouldn’t entertain the idea, but he sees the genuineness in your expression, beyond his attraction toward you. You had a desire to write and share and feel—he could respect that. He nods slightly, pressing his laptop closed and gathering his things slowly.

“Alright—give me a couple days,” Joel bargains, “Anything you prefer?”

You shake your head innocently, wishing he would recommend his own literature. You wanted to see how deep his ego ran, if he had the nerve to be so bold. “Anything you like, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it too.”

It was an understatement.

And the accidental coffee shop mishap doesn’t end there. In fact, it quickly grows out of control, beyond your own intention—this was natural, no coaxing needed.

–

Joel hated how much he craved your presence outside of work, in this stupid fucking coffee shop—but like his dependency to schedule and caffeine, he finds you become a normal occurrence and it throws him out of wack when you’re not around.

Luckily, you never strayed. You were there every night, even early mornings when he had to take a retirement for the night—you didn’t need to pry, you knew. He’d twist a nervous hand around his wrist that slowly trailed to his ring finger, fingers flexing anxiously. He had to be home, he didn’t want more problems. Even if this was somehow helping him work through his inhibitions, he still had a responsibility.

And Joel knows the time he’s spending with you could be misconstrued, but he does it out of a genuineness to further your interest and desire into literature if anything. He’s met with many students after hours—though, not to this extent. And always within the grounds of school, either in the classroom or his assigned office, nothing beyond the border of allowing a personal connection.

He was bending rules for you and he couldn’t help it.

There’s so much you learn in the short month or so that this drags on—Joel likes black coffee, no add-ins or sweet touches. He fidgets a lot, fingers constantly twisting at the watch on his wrist or scratching at his slowly regrowing stubble when he had just shaven a day or two prior—you start to notice the small blank patches in his beard because of it.

He seems so unsuspecting and normal—maybe that was what drew you in. You couldn’t really pinpoint it anymore. There was a point where the secret admiring morphed into open admiration and maybe Joel should’ve stopped it there. But, it made him feel good.

It made him feel wanted. And that was his first real mistake he made with you.

Allowing it.

It never breached anything inappropriate, but he’d notice when you would track the movement of his hands, rubbing over his face or neck in exhaustion, arms stretching over the back of his head after a long period of sitting down, hunched over in the small sanctuary you two had constantly found yourself in.

Mr. Miller was fair in that he never helped you with his assignments. He wasn’t there to give you a leg up or help you out in that regard, he knew you were capable. Competent. But, he fed your desire for him and literature by asking about your own interests and melding them his own, curating your time together in the small cafe with topics you could both find yourself getting lost in.

It was easy to lose track of time with him. And very irresponsible.

Joel does notice your longing glances and subtle twitches in your face when he does certaIn things, moving his body in a way that accentuates his strong form—he wasn’t toned necessarily, but he was broad, large, and he wasn’t amiss to how his own shirt clung to his body or how well-tailored his slacks were. He liked things to fit well. And you appreciated that so much.

But, beyond your own disappointment, things never cross that line.

He never makes a comment or threads the line of touching you, his hands always aware of their placement around you—and maybe he was just being respectful and was terrified to lose his job, but you can see the flex of his fingers when you remove your sweater or lean in to close to him, his eyes dragging along the slope of your neck, nostrils flaring in response at how comfortable enough you feel to just lean in.

He’s foolish to think this wouldn’t mean anything to you, but he allows that thought to stray from his mind and continues, too attached to these meet-ups like they were his own form of free therapy, beyond the dreadful marriage counseling he was going through.

It wasn’t working, but this was.

And he thinks that it is partly because it’s you and not Tess.

In fact, he knows it’s you.

The emails continue for weeks, days upon days of trading back responses and links—and really, everything is telling him to stop. Everything.

The guilt. The fear. The anger.

Yet, he never tries.

-

Joel can feel you breaking out of your shell little by little, more engaged in the group setting of the classroom the more time he’s spent with you one on one. He doesn’t want to initiate a responsibility in it, but he can since the familiarity and comfort when you speak–even if it's mostly directed at him.

Truthfully, you didn’t have a problem speaking in front of the class, but if it filled Mr. Miller with a sort of pride, you weren’t going to deny that.

You try to ignore the way he speaks your name, calls on you and beckons you to speak with a raise of his eyebrows, arms crossed firmly over his chest–and your eyes draw to his stomach, following along the soft slope and over his groin and you see his thighs tense as he crosses his legs too, one gently over the other as he leaned against his desk.

You smirk slightly, feigning a look of innocence as your eyes drag to his face, answering his question mindlessly—something about how to capture dialogue properly and even Joel can see that you’re not fully there, mind elsewhere.

It wasn’t hard to surmise where, but he ignored it. For now.

But, it wasn’t until the day was nearing the end of your class, head buried in your laptop as you copied your handwritten notes down into a document for later, knowing absently that he was perusing around the room but trying to ignore his lingering presence every time he glanced over at you.

His hands surround your chair before he announces himself, flimsy plastic creaking underneath his grip.

“Mr. Miller.” You address pleasantly, typing idly away at your keyboard.

He speaks your name gently, a reverence in his tone that allures fondness, a smile creeping on his lips. 

“Any questions?” He asks curiously, brow furrowing in confusion, “On the assignment—“

He points blindly to the board, eyes still locked on you as your head turns toward the board, down at your notes, then back at him.

“I mean—not really?” You sound unsure, “Write something fantasy, make it interesting—“

He can feel your interest waning, seeming rather nonchalant about the topic, like it would be an absolute breeze and wasn’t worth the wasted energy. But, he’s challenging you.

To what, you weren’t sure.

Joel clears his throat, grip tightening on the back of your chair as he leaned over subtly, chest crowding around the back of your head, examine the notes you did have type out before his eyes dragging back toward you, and you can’t ignore his gaze, chin turning up toward him and your eyes soften as they connect with his.

“But, specifically—dreams.” He clarifies, “Sometimes your best ideas can come to you in a dream—so think of it as journaling them but, expanding…bringing it to life.”

Dreams…

You’ve had enough of them in preceding weeks to last you a lifetime, all including him.

“Bringing it to life…” You echo his words, mincing the words on your tongue as the idea flusters your mind, a small nod from Joel in response.

Of course, he had no idea the extent of how deep your mind wandered, but his words were edging too close for comfort, like he had the faintest idea.

There’s a brief moment of self awareness as his eyes drag to your lips, tongue dampening them as you soothe the chapped skin, nodding absently.

“I think—I think I understand what you’re saying.”

Mr. Miller smiles then, whether fake or not you couldn’t tell, “Good—feel free to, uh—“

Email him.

You see him hesitate to force the words out, chuckle awkwardly as he leans away, breaking the built up tension between you both.

“Yeah, yep.” You laugh softly, infectiously as you turn your attention back toward your laptop, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

He pats your shoulder softly and squeezes, the only point of contact he ever allows himself, never letting his touch linger or stray because he knows—if he broke that point of contact and wandered elsewhere, he wasn’t sure he could stop.

-

You tap mindlessly at the edge of your keyboard, laptop resting wobbly in your propped up legs, start to type a word before quick erasing. Mind flicking through baseless and boring ideas, wondering how easily you could muster up a fake dream and amaze Mr. Miller with your lackluster writing skills—just lie, it wasn’t that hard.

You feel your mind wandering then, head hung back against your pillow as you stare at your ceiling, his expression etched into the back of your mind, eyes wandering along the dip in your cupid’s bow and the less than subtle lick of your lips that you offered in return. 

This couldn’t all be in your head.

You sigh, heavy and thick, but the soft ding of a notification on your laptop pulls your attention.

On the other end, Joel sits anxiously at his desk, foot tapping insistently against the hardwood floor, still fully dressed from work sans his tie that laid slack on his desk.

It wasn’t even a fully drafted email, rather a precursor to beginnings of an improper, but casual conversation. He tried to keep an open line of communication with all of his students, but when you don’t show up at the coffee shop that night, too burdened with the idea of just what you were going to write—he worries. 

‘Are things coming along? Didn’t catch you at the cafe tonight.’

You stare blankly, unsure how to respond.

It felt…odd, starting a conversation over email.

Of course, you didn’t have any other means of communication, so this is what Joel was forced to devolve too, tapping nervously as he awaited your response.

‘Having trouble actually—any suggestions?’

Part of you craves to hear his voice—and selfishly, he does too. And Joel knows the moment he offers the information up, he’s going to regret it. But, he does.

The house was empty, thankfully. Tess was working later than usual and Joel couldn’t be bothered with the semantics, finding himself straying further and further from this bed every night. His office was his new sanctuary, bad back be damned—he would choose the couch over a bed with her, knowing she still judged him for the choices she made.

A phone number is attached to the email that follows, ‘I’m free, if you want to talk through it.’

Your heart desynced from its usual rhythm for a brief moment, nearly fleeing your body if you hadn’t felt it so deeply in your chest. You couldn’t—this…it couldn’t be all in your head.

You quickly type the number into your contacts, hovering for far too many minutes over the call button, wondering if it mattered how you looked—if he would judge. You didn’t appear much different, but you were in your own comforts, vulnerable. And as much as he appeared here in your dreams, the reality of him being this close was startling.

You bite thoughtfully at your bottom lip as you prop your phone against the screen of your laptop, a blank document open behind the calling screen as you went through with your hesitation and attempt to connect the call, chin resting against your fist as you waited, eyes wandering aimlessly around the room.

When the familiar tone blares of the call going through and Joel is suddenly appearing on screen, you’re not sure why you followed through with this in the first place—even if he was the one who insisted it by offering up the information.

He looks slightly more disheveled across the screen, still dressed in the outfit you saw him in earlier, his tie gone, a button or two undone, and he’s definitely allowed his fingers to run through his usually quaffed hair, a curl falling freely over his forehead, his phone seemingly propped up in a similar manner as you can see most his upper body that wasn’t hidden by his desk.

“So, what’s the issue?”

He jumps right in, which isn’t surprising.

You feel the sense of familiarity in your usual conversations, like you were almost there in the room with him—you couldn’t imagine how exhausted you looked or seem currently, but you push the thought from your mind and hoped it didn’t cross his, that he wasn’t harping on your similarly disheveled appearance in his mind.

He seemed as if he genuinely wanted to help.

You hated it, wishing he wouldn’t drag things out.

If he wanted you, he could have you.

Instead, it felt like he wanted to—or rather needed to keep you at a distance, just out of reach for his own good rather than yours.

“Just…wondering, I guess.” You look down briefly, feeling his curiosity through the screen as you pick at a frayed thread in your blanket. “How—how detailed are you asking?”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be so loud that it feels like…too much?” Joel feels like he may not be making complete sense, but he tries. “Do you have a few dreams you remember well that you feel the need to jot down, that you can morph it into something tangible?”

The way he speaks so eloquently, even beyond the guise of his profession, never gets old. Maybe it is a habit he’s formed, speaking and teaching for so many years that he can’t force himself out of that mode—but maybe he was also allowing it to be a barrier, that if he let his guard down too much that you might sneak in and find a way to pick at him and allow yourself to get comfortable.

He couldn’t do…comfortable. But, this—this he could manage. It allowed for a clear divide between student and teacher. Professional and casual, even if he didn’t hand out his phone number to people so willingly. 

“Um…yeah,” You nod slightly, mind filtering through the filthy thoughts of him over you, breathing a deep satiating desire for relief into your body, lips on your body, fingers buried deep inside of you, bringing you right near the precipice before you’re being ripped away from the glorious fantasy, “there’s a few, I guess.”

“Do you wanna share?” His eyebrows raise inquisitively, his hand disappearing off screen to bring a clear glass to his lips, half-filled with a dark brown liquid.

Tequila, maybe? Whiskey? 

His lips curl around the edge of the and he sips, ice clanking inside of the glass as he awaits your response.

You shake your head hesitantly, smiling slightly, “I think the whole point is to surprise you, right?”

He chuckles softly, “I suppose.”

“Maybe…some vague advice, if you have any?”

Joel sets the glass against the desk a few inches off screen, thinking quietly. Eyebrows furrowing deep as he contemplates. Hard.

“Don’t hold back,” He starts, staring mindlessly off into the distance as he speaks, “be—be authentic and try not to limit yourself.”

“So, no sparing any details?” You ask teasingly and he smirks at your playful tone.

“Why would you do that?” He asks unknowingly of the thoughts on your mind, “You’re a beautiful writer, don’t discredit yourself.”

It tugs at something deep inside of you, a subtle frown forming on your face as you nod in response. “Thank you…”

“Hey,” There’s a gentle utterance of your name that has your eyes connecting fiercely across the screen, “I mean that.”

You’re silent, at a loss for words. It wasn’t for lack of knowing what to say, but how to say something—how to extend your appreciation. But, you figure that may translate better through writing, brewing over the idea in your head.

“Mr. Miller—“ Your mind lingers on unspoken words and thoughts, begging to be spoken, but the faint creak of a door in the background on his end has you both shooting to attention, a shared understanding as he scrambles slightly.

“If you run into any road blocks, just send me a message, okay?”

You nod, cut off by his sudden eagerness to end the call—feeling you just got caught doing something horrible, a shunning on the horizon.

You sleep that night with a fresh revelation on your mind, smothered by the feeling of special treatment that Mr. Miller was offering, wholly committed to your own delusion and it fuels and stokes that fire effortlessly. And the vivid scenes of your dream flow onto the page the following morning in perfect detail:

It starts off innocent, a bland tale of forbidden love or…something thereof, playing at the idea that this wasn’t supposed to be. Two parrying forces that yearn for the other but can’t find the courage to jump or take that leap—full of dread and hesitance and intensifying that idea. 

Until, there’s a major implode of tension.

A sudden snap on the male character that resembles Joel so much it is unsettling, down to the subtle mannerisms as he takes in the characters appearance and words throughout, slowly describing yourself in a way that isn’t…obvious. But, it is heavily implied. 

There’s a sudden confession of desire, not love, but a definite yearning that is mostly mutual, leading into a fantasy of filth. Debauchery personified in a way that feels inappropriate to write for a college assignment but is therapeutic for your mind.

His hands wander with a restrain that reads as worried—unsure of what the other character expects, but the moment your lips connect all bets are off, clothes rapidly disappearing amongst the confines of the male’s vaguely described quarters, laid over a flat surface. His bed or his desk, the detail is omitted, but he crowds dream you in and devours, capturing your mouth in another heated kiss, hands wasting no time as they slip over your cunt, beyond the sacred barrier of your underwear and inside of you like he’s done this a million times before.

In your mind, he had. But, that was beyond the point.

His fingers work you over expertly, your own hands wandering over his strong frame, biceps flexing underneath your touch as you describe a distinct feeling of stubble as he decends and you feel the texture against the inside of your thighs, underwear disappearing at some point you can’t remember before his mouth is latching into your cunt without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his mouth so vividly it almost startled you awake at the time, the distinctness of his voice echoing in your mind, biting your lip to stifle your desperate moans.

“Don’t hold back.” He echoes, a distinct line of dialogue that sticks out in your mind as you type it into the document, feeling your inside twist and clench at the fleeting memory of his voice.

You come against his mouth with a shout, fingers twisting into his horrible disheveled hair, just long enough that you can secure a good grip before you’re pulling him upright, tasting the slick of yourself on your tongue as you kiss him.

It’s all a dream, after all. 

You take your own liberties, playing up the descriptions in a way that feels sinful, but you do it anyway. You finished the assignment in a few hours despite the ability to extend it over a few days, not bothering to wait as the idea was still fresh in your mind as you typed it out.

You don’t even hesitate to send the assignment once it is finished, fully confident in your abilities and Joel’s echoing encouragement.

It may have been the best thing you’ve ever written.

-

Joel is blissfully unaware of the debauchery awaiting him in his inbox, busying himself with the endless list of divorce attorneys in the state, wondering if he should really go through with this—ending his marriage, starting anew and cutting ties with Tess. He isn’t sure, really.

He isn’t positive about anything in his life anymore. 

He sips gingerly at the steaming cup of coffee, his second of the night as he switches between his browser and a separate page of assignments he was concocting for the rest of the semester, specifically tailoring some around your own interests. He couldn’t explain why he was putting the effort in, why there was genuine concern—but he wanted you to succeed, if anything.

You don’t see him at first, he wasn’t hidden away in your usual spot, but he’s tucked away in a quiet corner near the back of the cafe, and you almost decide to ignore him and give him the space he seems like he craved, wondering if he had already read through your essay, but he nods at you subtly when he catches your gaze, a quick look up from his computer as you grabbed your coffee order from the barista.

Come here, he beckons silently.

You cross a single arm over your chest and press the lid of the cup to your lips and sip, gentle are careful steps progressing his way as you stop, hip pressing against the edge of the table. He looks at you, friendly and innocent, like he hadn’t offered up his phone number without precautions or asking, handing out the final line of connection that sealed the deal for you. This wasn’t just…help. It had to be more.

“J–Mr. Miller,” You catch yourself, finding his first name almost slipping from your lips, too close for comfort but he doesn’t seem to catch it, “reading through the assignments?”

You’re curious, but silently hoping he hasn’t crossed yours yet. Or, if he had, wondering if he was calling you over for that very reason—he wouldn’t express his thoughts in the coffee shop though, he couldn’t. If he lies, you can’t see through it.

“Uh, not yet, giving that a couple days,” He shakes his head, closing out of the browsers and shutting his laptop, “sit?”

He’s extending the invitation, hand gesturing toward the empty seat.

You bite back the smile that creeps on your face and take a seat, pulling at the sweater that covers your body, the cold chill creeping into the cafe as the bells to the entrance ring.

“Did you ever figure out what you were struggling with?” Joel asks curiously, still painfully in teacher mode, much to your dismay, “I didn’t hear from you, so…”

“Oh, um,” There’s an excited fluttering in your tummy, hesitant to debrief him on the details, but you nod, “yeah—just took a little bit of thought and the words started flowing.”

“Well, that’s good,” He offers politely, “I’m glad I could help—if…if I did.”

“Of course,” You smile more confidently, “You always do.”

If he only knew.

His eyebrows furrowing subconsciously, staring at his watch as the numbers creeped closer to midnight, his mind heavy with thought he wouldn’t speak out loud. So, you ask.

“Are you okay?” You utter softly, knowing it was the instance either of you have ever made the effort to ask—through countless meet-ups and secret conversation, feeling a need to keep it all hushed—it never occurred to you until you’re saying the words out loud. “You seem…irritated.”

Joel laughs bitterly, a soft chuckle that radiates in his chest. “Who isn’t?” He challenges, seeing the familiar look cross your own face, “Sorry—that’s—”

Joel looks away briefly, feeling that confiding you was a line he couldn’t cross, even though he’s blurred just about every other one in existence. 

“I don’t mean to pry,” You shrug, “but I figure—it doesn’t hurt to ask?”

He’s withholding and you can see it, clock it in the way he checks his phone screen—a few missed calls and a text but you can’t read out anything other than the name. Tess.

Tess Miller. Got it.

“Did you get your assignment turned in then?” He asks curiously.

You nod shyly, twirling the cup slowly on the table, eyes drawn away from him despite how starkly he glared at you, hands cupped in his lap underneath the table. If you scooted closer your knees would knock together and you fight the urge to do so.

Joel notices the way you curl inward, a subconscious act that always denotes something simmering beneath the surface with you. He was used to your forwardness, your inability to respect personal space to a degree that…didn’t necessarily bother him in the way that it should. And he hates how his cock twitches at the sight of you glancing away, intimidated by his eye contact for once in the few months he’s gotten to know you.

There’s a creeping thought edging its way into his mind, an urge to force your wandering gaze on him, coax you into trusting him, wondering just how easy it would be for you to comply with his will, if it would take any fight on your part at all.

“Good, I’m excited to read it.” Joel replies honestly, a genuine smile finding its way onto his face, “I’m always lookin’ forward to what your mind thinks up.”

He may be asking for more than he bargains for with that.

“Well, I’ll see you on Monday then?” You confirm, feeling the need for a quick escape, things getting entirely too close for comfort, “Hopefully with a perfect score?”

Joel smirks knowingly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He teases.

Unfortunately, you were yards if not miles ahead. 

Beyond saving.

And Joel had no idea.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 4. Gooey

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact!)

Chapter Preview: "Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him. Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?" "I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-" "She doesn't hate you-" "...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene." Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-" "It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-" "No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours. "I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Virgin Reader, Loss of Virginity, PIV Sex (finally!!!!), Breeding Kink, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 6.4K

Chapter Title Inspo/Vibe: 'Gooey' by Glass Animals

"What's up with you and Sugar?"

Sarah casually strolls over to Joel's desk, perching her hip on the edge as she hands him a cup of coffee. "Maria said she saw the two of you at the mall yesterday," peering over him as he nervously takes a sip of his coffee, "... during working hours. She said you guys seemed mighty close and all, I guess she wasn't sick like Tess said?"

Joel chokes mid-sip, coughing out the hot coffee as Sarah smirks at him.

"So it's true, then?"

"I guess I can't hide anything from you, baby girl," Joel replies in between coughs. "Should have known I can't get anything past you."

"Well, I made a wild guess you were into her, being that I heard you singing 'Pour Some Sugar On Me" in the shower the other day.

"It was being played on the radio, can't control what they decide to play, you know?" he stops, taking a deep breath. "... besides, everyone loves Def Leppard," he mumbles under his breath.

Sarah gives him a knowing glance as she makes herself comfortable on the chair in front of him. "Dad, the radio stations don't put music on repeat." She fiddles with the sleeves of her sweater absentmindedly, her face deep in thought. "It wouldn't be a bad thing, you know? You and Sugar. She seems like a very sweet girl. Kind of shy, but I like her."

Joel arches an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

She shrugs. "I mean, she is kind of young, but age is just a number, right? It's not like she's in her 20s. Besides, Ellie is obsessed with her. She's always at her office, picking her brain about her thoughts on 80s music. She's a good influence on her."

Joel nods. "Ellie- I worry about her sometimes. Lord knows that I try to do right by her, adopting her and all that. Sometimes I think she needs-"

"... a feminine touch?"

"Something like that." Joel smiles to himself, his eyes still locked on his iPad as he continues his redline revisions to be sent off to the draftsmen. "I think her being surrounded by Tommy and I makes her too-"

"Feral?" Sarah quips, chuckling. "Rough around the edges? Aggressive? It comes with the territory, I guess, with no mother figure around, you know?" she picks a hangnail. "Tommy said that she nearly castrated a client on the job site the other day for asking her out on a date."

"That jerk was asking for it." Joel retorts, his back stiffening. "You adjusted well enough without a mother."

Sarah sighs. "It doesn't mean it was easy, though. It would have been nice, you know? There's just things that I can't talk to a guy about, as much as you tried to be there for me."

"This thing with Sugar, It's new - but I know what I feel for her."

Sarah nods. "You don't need to give me all the details. I trust you, and if she's someone you want to pursue, I won't be mad about it, if that's what you're thinking. Like I said, she's a nice girl."

"She's... fuck, Sarah, she's amazing. She takes my breath away, every time she smiles at me. Fuck. I feel like a teenager, being around her. I don't know what it is, but I always want to be around her." Joel chuckles, smiling at Sarah. "I'm crazy about her."

"Well, you must be if you're out here buying Teslas like you would coffee."

Joel leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? I wasn't aware that she bought a new car."

Sarah crosses her arms, a skeptical look in her eyes. "Dad, you do realize I handle HR, right? I know what everyone's making. I find it hard to believe she's casually splurging on a Tesla, especially a Model X." She shrugs, giving her father one last look as she heads towards the door. "I know it's tempting, wanting to spoil her. You worked for it, you know? To get where you're at now, but I have a feeling Sugar doesn't care about all of that, just like how Ellie and I don't care about that. Money comes and goes. It's what's inside that chest of yours that matters at the end of the day, ok?"

Joel smiles at Sarah once more as she walks out the door. "I love you too, baby girl."

Joel opens his messenger app, smiling at his earlier conversation with Sarah.

[Hey Sugar, you busy?] I'm about to head into a meeting with Tess, what's up? [Just wanted to see if you wanted to get some lunch?] I can't. Tess is pissed that I was out yesterday. I think this meeting is going to run past lunch. Rain check? [.....] Joel?

"Tess, what are you doing?" Joel demands, walking into Tess' office without knocking.

"Well hello to you, too Joel."

Joel stands at the door, his hands on his hips. "Sugar told me that she's going to be working through lunch with you-"

Tess scoffs, placing both arms on her desk. "Well, if the two of you didn't decide to fuck off work yesterday, maybe she wouldn't have to work past lunch."

"Sugar was sick. I had to do shit back at the house-"

"So you didn't go to the mall together yesterday?"

"It was her birthday, we just so happened to run into each other-"

Tess rolls her eyes at that. "I don't care what the fuck you guys do on your own time, but don't fuck around on my time!" she spits, pointing a finger at Joel. "Don't try to bullshit a bullshitter, Joel. Maria saw you guys. That girl of yours is lucky I didn't ask her for a doctor's note!  

Joel pinches his forehead. "Tess-"

She shakes her head. "What are you doing, Joel? Have you lost your fucking mind? We have a business to run, YOUR business! Time doesn't stop just because you decided that you want to act like a fucking teenager, running around like you have no responsibilities! People depend on you to not fuck around!"  

Meanwhile, you hear the shouting match between Joel and Tess from your office, your head in your hands as you listen to the both of them bicker about the stunt that you and Joel pulled yesterday. You sigh, knowing that you told Joel that you had a bad feeling about blowing off work.  

"Never a dull moment at Miller Construction, huh?" Frank leans casually against your doorway, offering a knowing wink. "Nice ride, by the way. Makes me wonder if I picked the wrong man, huh?"

"Frank, cut it out. You were supposed to be at the showroom ten minutes ago," the gruff voice of the head civil engineer interjects, rolling his eyes as he strides through the hallway, delivering you a brief nod. "Sugar, Happy Belated Birthday. Hope you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Bill," you reply with a hint of meekness.

"Frank! Let's go," he shouts impatiently, already at the front door.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around for the theatrics of our esteemed leaders... keep me posted, okay? I want a play-by-play! Nice dress, by the way. Celine?"

"Uh-"

"Frank!"

"I'm COMING! Geez, you'd think after 15 years of marriage, it gets easier, right?" he shrugs. "Well, Sugar, it's been a pleasure." He winces as Tess' shrill voice echoes in the distance. "Go console Joel before he pops a vessel; I think someone might just call the police this time!"

You nod absentmindedly, offering him a small smile. "Sure thing," you reply, the weariness evident in your voice.

It was a lot easier when you worked at Geek Squad. Sure, you got paid almost close to nothing dealing with irate customers for eight hours, answering mundane questions - 

Did you try to restart the computer?

Did you make sure that the monitor was plugged in?

Sure, I can wait for your granddaughter to come home to help you…

It was soul-sucking, but it was easy. Easier, compared to dealing with someone like Tess. Tess took no shit - no excuses, no bullshit. She didn’t care if you had a dentist appointment and couldn’t schedule it on the weekend. She didn’t care if you needed a mental health day. Your time was her time, and you found that out the hard way real quick… and now she knew. Knew that you blew off work and knowing Tess, she probably knew that Joel finger fucked you into oblivion in the Neiman Marcus dressing room. You can't help but have respect for her, a woman walking amongst the men in an unforgiving industry. If there was anyone who had balls of steel, it would be Tess. 

"Joel, why can't you just wait to fuck her after work like a responsible adult?!" She shouts, the tell-tell sound of something being thrown against the wall echoing through the hall. You flinch, sinking into your seat further as you groan in embarrassment.  

"Hey!" you hear the other Miller brother yell from the other end of the hallway, his hurried steps passing through as he makes his way toward the absolute meltdown happening between Joel and Tess. "What the hell is going on? The entire fucking building can hear the both of you! What the fuck?!"

"Tess is being a bully, telling people they have to work through their lunch-"

"Your brother here is throwing a fucking hissy fit accusing me of bullying his little girlfriend - I told you hiring her was a bad fucking idea!"

"YOU LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Joel shouts, the sound of his fist hitting the hollow of the door. "You keep her out of your fucking mouth, Tess!"

"Joel," you hear Tommy, his voice lowered in a shoddy attempt to placate his brother. "Let's just calm the fuck down, okay? you guys are scaring the engineers-"

"OH FUCK THE ENGINEERS, TOMMY," Tess screams, "You tell your brother to stop playing favorites and fucking around with THE HELP!"

"Tess," Tommy stammers, "I know you're upset, but you're being out of line right now, let's just take a moment to calm-"

"Oh fuck off, Tommy! you're here always defending your brother when he's just fine screwing around, fucking us over! why don't you grow a pair-"

"Tess," Joels cuts her off, his voice laced with his building anger. "I know you think that you run the show, but it is still my company, that I run. You don't go and bully everyone just because you think you can. You may call the shots, but you still report to me. Denying an employee lunch is an HR violation! Should I call Sarah in here too? Slap the fucking employee handbook on your desk and clear the air? Your meeting with Sugar can wait until after lunch, do I make myself clear??"

You don't realize you're holding your breath until-

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

You hear Tess curse, and you can imagine her face, clear as day, glaring at Joel, the both of them not wanting to back down.  

"Crystal."

You hear the slamming of a door, followed by the heavy-footed steps of Joel as he makes his way back to his office.

You sit in a daze, looking off into space, trying to process what just happened. You're only broken off from your thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your messenger, its distinctive ping! jolting you back to the present.

[So, lunch?]

"So, what cravings does my Sugar have today?" Joel murmurs, gently taking your hand as he navigates out of the parking lot.

"Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him.

Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?"

"I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-"

"She doesn't hate you-"

"...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene."

Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-"

"It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-"

"No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours.

"I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

"I wouldn't let her do that, baby."

"Just because you like me doesn't mean I'm immune, Joel."

“You do excellent work, Sugar. If there’s anyone to blame for what happened yesterday, it’s me, alright? Tess’ issue is with me, not you." He heads into town, pulling over to a metered parking spot in front of a few storefronts. He cuts the ignition, staring into the distance as he takes a few deep breaths. "You're wrong, baby," he says finally, turning towards you. He gives you a small smile, "I don't like you."

You feel your expression shift into something resembling pain as Joel hurriedly reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his.

"I love you, Sugar," he breathes, "I've been in love with you, all this time."

"Joel, you don't need to say this just to make me feel better."

Joel shakes his head, unbuckling his seatbelt to lean towards you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Are you saying I'm a liar?"

A tear rolls down your cheek. "No one has ever-"

"Then let me try to show you just how much I do, baby."

"What if I'm bad at it? Bad at loving you?"

Joel looks deep into your eyes, his gaze tender and unwavering. "There's no such thing as being bad at loving, Sugar. Love is about understanding, patience, and growing together. We'll figure it out, one step at a time."

He wipes away the tear from your cheek with his thumb and offers you a reassuring smile. "I'm not expecting perfection, just you, baby girl. That's all I've ever wanted."

"What if I'm not ready to say it back just yet?"

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me", he smiles. "Just let me love you, okay?"

Later that day, you finally muster up the courage to make the short journey down the hall for your meeting with Tess. You would be lying if you said you weren't five seconds away from shitting your pants, that's just the effect Tess has on everyone in the office.   

"Tess?" you knock on her door, clearing your throat and hoping she doesn't catch the slight tremor in your voice. You attempt to compose yourself, standing a bit taller as you wait for her reply with bated breath.

"Come in!"

You hesitantly shuffle in, feeling like a moron standing before her in your new dress, feeling like she can see right through you. "Look, about earlier-"

Tess glances at you as if you've suddenly sprouted another head. "Why don't you just have a seat, and we can get this over with."

You stand in your spot timidly, shifting on your feet. "Okay," you say, settling into the seat across from her and placing your MacBook on her desk. "Where did you want to start?"

"Let's go over the employee reports."

"Okay, well," you begin, nervously pushing your hair behind your ear as you load up your reports, keeping your eyes locked onto your screen as you feel the weight of Tess' gaze on you. It's unnerving, you think to yourself. "There haven't been any new issues; everyone seems to be on task, and productivity has been steady, if not increasing-"

"Do you want a drink?" Tess interrupts suddenly, the sound of a drawer opening as she pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "It was your birthday yesterday, right? Why don't we take the edge off?"

"Uh," you glance at the time on your computer screen. 4:05. 55 minutes before the end of the day. You eye her warily. "We still have an hour before... we still have an hour before the end of the day," you cautiously mention, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Tess pours two glasses of whiskey, sliding one towards you. "A little celebration won't hurt. Besides, it's been a day."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, the cool surface feeling unfamiliar in your hand. "To what, exactly?"

Tess smirks, raising her glass. "To getting through the day, and to not making a big deal out of things that don't matter. To burying the hatchet. To your birthday," she adds. She leans towards you, her gaze heavy on yours. "Shall we?"

"Sure," you say, not one to shy away from a challenge. "What the hell."

It's not an hour later you find the both of you drunk off your asses.

"You know, I can see it," Tess says, eyeing you as she leans back in her desk chair. "Why Joel is so taken with you? You're quite a woman."

"Oh?"

"It takes one strong woman to be able to see the kind of illicit porn the Miller brothers watch and not bat an eye at it. Tell me, what has our leader been into lately?"

You try to stifle a giggle, attempting to hide a blush. "Well, he usually watches a lot of secretary stuff, but lately-"

"Let me take a wild guess," Tess says as she takes a swig out of the bottle, shot glasses long abandoned. "Sweet little housewife porn?"

"Not quite."

Her eyebrow raises curiously. "Worse than that?"

"Well, there's been an uptick of... breeding porn?" you blush furiously. "it's a lot."

Tess bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching her middle, all sense of professionalism out the window. "I think he's trying to tell you something!"

"What do you mean?" you ask, meeting her giggles. "What is breeding porn anyway?"

Tess stares at you. "Really Sugar? It means he wants to fuck a baby into you!"

You scratch the back of your head, clearly at a loss. "I-"

"The sex must be great," she quips. "I don't think that man has been intimate with anyone for the last ten years." She leans over toward you. "He has to make up for lost time," she whispers, giving you a wink.

"Yeah", you stammer, "It's great."

"Well, when you say it like that, maybe the old man lost his touch."

"Tess, can I level with you? I... I'm a virgin. I'm a 36-year-old virgin. Does that change how you see me?"

"Well, it depends. Is it by choice?"

You shrug, a hiccup escaping from your body. "I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's a mix of both. Like I'm defective."

"Lay it on me," she looks around your surroundings, making sure that the door is closed. "This is a safe space... most of the time." She gives you a pointed look.  

"I guess... I don't know how to put myself out there. My parents, well, my dad- he was strict. One of those "You're not allowed to date until you're 80" kind of dads." You take another sip of whiskey, scrunching your face as it burns down your throat. "I... tried to date in college, but it never went past a first date. There was a lot of ghosting. It gave me a complex, you know? Who wants to date a nobody who looks like me? and it's so fucking pathetic, you know? to be the unwanted one. All of my friends, well, they're married and have kids, and I'm just that token single friend they take pity on because I will always be unlucky in love."

"I think that's a load of bull," Tess scoffs, arms crossed.

"Do you know what I think? You dealt with too many boys and not enough men." She drinks from the bottle once more, reclining further into her seat as she places her ankles on the edge of the desk. "Do you wanna know what I see in front of me? I see a girl who worked her ass off getting her masters, who doesn't depend on mommy and daddy to fund her lifestyle - yes," she raises a finger, interrupting you from replying. "I know who your parents are. You're hyper-independent, and you don't like handouts. Boys don't want a woman who doesn't need them, they don't want a fucking challenge. Do you know who does love a challenge? Men. Men like Joel."

Tess leans in, a sly grin playing on her lips. "Joel, now there's a man who appreciates someone like you. Someone who doesn't need saving, who's got her own game going. Boys might be intimidated, but men, well, they see a partner, not a project."

She takes another swig, the bottle now almost empty. "You don't want to waste your time on those boys playing grown-up. Trust me, been there, done that. Men bring something different to the table. They value independence, they crave a challenge. It's a whole different ball game. Think about it, Sugar. Besides," she laughs to herself, shaking her head. "I've never seen Joel so whipped for pussy in the 20 years that I've known him. You got him eating in the palm of your hand... and the best thing about it? you didn't even have to try. What woman can say that she managed to bag a millionaire without having to put out? Now that's power."

"What's this?" Joel asks suddenly, his eyes narrowing at the two of you as he hovers over the doorway. If he knocked, the two of you were too drunk to notice. "Tess? Care to share why Sugar can barely sit straight?"

Tess throws her hands up in surrender, a faint chuckle out of her lips. "What does it look like? We're just having a little birthday drink. I'd offer you a drink," she picks up the empty whiskey bottle, "but it looks like we beat you to it."

"Joel!" you beam at him, spinning around in your seat, your face flushed from your conversation with Tess. "Just the man we were talking about!"

"Sugar, are you feeling ok?" he gives you a small smile, trying to hide his concern.

"I'm just peachy, thanks for asking!" you sway in your seat, grabbing onto the armrest to steady yourself. "Tess and I were just discussing how you haven't had-"

"Just going over productivity metrics" Tess cuts you off, clearing her throat as she tries to steady herself, wincing. "I offered her a drink to apologize for my behavior earlier. We got a little carried away-" She straightens herself, motioning towards you. "I think you should give her a ride home, make sure she doesn't end up in the next state over because she drunkenly typed in the wrong address in the Tesla."

"Home sounds good," you murmur under your breath, your eyes closed.

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, moving towards your slouched figure. "Okay Sugar," he whispers, his hands gently placed on your shoulders to steady you. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Maybe?" you hiccup, your body feeling like lead is coursing through your veins as you attempt to meet his concerned eyes. "Are you going to take me home? I don't think I can drive, everything is so fuzzy..."

If you weren't drunk off of your ass, you might have sensed the sudden lift from your seat, Joel carrying you effortlessly with a stern look aimed at Tess. "I appreciate the effort to make amends, Tess, but maybe find a different approach other than getting the employees drunk." He adjusts you so your head rests on his shoulder, preventing any potential dizziness.

She shrugs, a smirk forming at Joel as he quietly tries to settle you. "What can I say? Whiskey cures all."

"Goodnight, Tess," Joel grumbles, adjusting his hold as he carries you towards the parking lot.

Joel carefully situates you in the passenger seat of his truck, securing your seatbelt and making sure your head rests comfortably, sighing as he takes in your inebriated state. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, offering you a reassuring smile. "I'm going to get your stuff back in the office, just close your eyes, okay?" he whispers, giving you one last glance before closing the door.

"I don't want to head home tonight. Can I crash at your place, Joel?" you murmur, eyelids too heavy to keep open. You swear you hear Joel reply something in return, but the alcohol in your system is finally starting to settle deep within your bones, lulling you into a deep sleep.

You don't remember much after that.

When you finally stir, it's dark. Instead of the familiar hum of Joel's truck, warmth envelops you, an arm securely around your middle. Joel snores softly.

"Joel?" you call out in the dark, your eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. "Where am I?"

"Hush, baby, go back to sleep. It's still early," he mumbles, tightening the arm around you. You feel him gently press a kiss on your head. "Sleep, my little love, we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," you reply, the smoothness of his voice lulling you back to sleep.  

"I love you, Joel." you think you say in your sleep. You don't care at this point, there's no sense of hiding it.

You swear you feel the ghost of his smile in response.

The next time you wake, the sunlight is pouring into the depths of Joel's bedroom, casting a hazy light, the air in the room still cold against your bare skin. Your eyes open wider at the realization that you're no longer in your work clothes. You blush at the thought of Joel undressing you, his hungry gaze on your bare body as he redresses you in something comfortable, embarrassed at the fact that you were too drunk to remember. You reluctantly open your eyes, blinking away the haze from a night of heavy drinking, trying to stifle a groan, not wanting to wake Joel.

You managed to lay halfway on top of him this time, your face buried in the crook of his neck. One of his hands is splayed against the expanse of your back, his leg slotted in between your thighs. You swear if you hitched your leg higher you would feel the firmness of his cock, already at half mast beneath the fabric of his boxers. You gaze at it in silent wonder, the realization that he's quite large - larger than the ones you see when you allow yourself to watch porn yourself.  

You find yourself grinding against his thigh, the sensation feeling like molten lava coursing through your veins. You don’t realize what you’re doing until the hand on your back starts to move, motioning your body to move back and forth as you continue to rub your clit against the hardness of his leg. "Fuck baby, are you close? You're shaking." he says roughly, pulling you into a kiss.  

"Joel, I saw what kind of porn you've been watching lately."

Joel stiffens at that, his hand still. "I'm beginning to think I can't hide shit from anyone," he laughs. "I guess I'm that transparent."

"Are you embarrassed?" you chuckle. "You can tell me, you know. Tess told me it's obvious that you want to fuck a baby-"

Joel groans. "Let's not talk about Tess right now. Besides- I know that you're a virgin, Sugar. I want your first time to be special, do it the right way. Let me help you ease into it-"

"Wasn't that what yesterday was about?" you blush, burying your face into his neck. "What if I'm ready now?"

"... are you sure, Sugar?" he asks hesitantly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."

"I don't want anyone else but you, Joel."

"You don't know how much I ache for you," he murmurs against your skin, placing wet open-mouthed kisses on your sternum, his hands slowly creeping up your shirt, his fingers grabbing onto the hem. "Can I, baby?" he asks, meeting your gaze as he kisses your skin. You give him a silent nod, lifting yourself slightly as he gently pulls his shirt off of your body, his eyes roaming on the slopes of your breasts. "Such perfect fucking tits, baby. Are they just for me?" he asks, the tip of his tongue flicking your nipple, his hand grasping the other.  

"Yes Joel, just for you," you breathe. His hands drift lower towards your aching cunt. "Put a baby into me, Joel. I want it."

"Fuck," he shouts, his hands grabbing your ass, shifting your body to be at the center of his king-sized bed. "You shouldn't say those things to me, I might just do it," he replies, settling himself in between your thighs. He cants his erection against your cunt, capturing your lips for a bruising kiss. "Can you feel just how much I ache for you?" His hand finds your core once more, his thumb pressing on your clit.  

Oh.

Your hands find his, pushing it onto your clit harder, the added pressure making you arch your back, your chest pressing onto his. His mouth finds your breasts once more, his tongue eagerly lapping and sucking at your pebbled nipples. "Such beautiful tits, Sugar. It'll get more beautiful when they get bigger and full of milk for my baby."  

He continues to worship your tits for a while, the pleasure that he's pulling from you making you dizzy with want, your pussy clenching onto nothing as he continues to grind against you. "Fuck Joel!" you cry out, your body chasing your orgasm, your chest too sensitive from his ministrations.  

"Tell me what you want, baby. What do you need?"

"I need your cock, daddy. I feel so fucking empty-"

Joel gives your breasts one final suck, the pop echoing throughout the vastness of his room. "I have to make you come first, baby. You're not ready for my cock yet." He slides a finger between your folds, his thumb adding more pressure onto your clit. Joel shifts his body down, pressing kisses down your torso as he makes his way to the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into the elastic, pulling them down. He hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of his bed, spreading you wider as you present yourself to him.

"Baby," he groans like he's in pain. He parts your slicked folds with his finger, coating it with your wetness. You jump as he flicks your clit, pinching it for good measure. "I'm beginning to think you're aching for me too, Sugar." You moan deeply, your body thrashing between the sheets, your body begging for more.  

"Don't fucking tease me, Joel," you pant. "I need you-"

He slaps your pussy harshly. "You'll take what I give you, little girl. Do I need to teach you how to be patient? We skipped dinner last night, you gonna deny Daddy of his meal?"

"No, Daddy. Please-"

"Are you gonna be a good little girl and let Daddy take care of you? Let me taste your sweet pussy?" he adds a second finger against your folds, teasing your entrance as you gasp and throw your head back.

"Yes," you plead. "Yes, yes, yes, take what you want-"

You can hardly breathe as Joel tugs your legs over his shoulders, angling your hips. You swear you feel your heart beating through your ears, your entire body feeling like it's on fire. Joel gives you one last smirk as he lowers his face to your cunt.  

You swear you implode the moment his mouth comes in contact with your clit.  

His tongue is lapping at your slick, the tip flicking your aching nub, languidly kissing your slit, taking his time. He's devouring you like he's been starved for years, getting hungrier and more desperate as you swear you can feel the bed shake, his dick grinding down on the mattress. He harshly grabs the globes of your ass cheeks, slipping his tongue at your entrance, your entire body flailing on the bed from overstimulation.  

He reaches for your hand and places it on his head, your fingers threading through his curls. "Hold on to me, Sugar. Don't be gentle," he says against your pussy, groaning as you pull so hard you swear you might just pull it out of his scalp. You begin to rock your hips against his face, the tip of his nose grazing against your clit, the both of you finding a rhythm as you chase your impending orgasm. You're close. So close.

"Come for me, baby. Fucking soak my face-" Joel begs, taking your clit in his teeth. Tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes, your body trembling and shaking and thrashing as he continues to consume you.  

"Joel!" you cry, "It's too much, I can't-" You swear your vision blacks out as you suddenly feel a gush of slick being released out of you, soaking Joel's face and the sheets beneath you. You try to meet his gaze, his pupils blown black, his eyes wide.  

"That's a good fucking girl!" he shouts, lapping you up completely, drinking from your pussy. He suddenly rises to his feet, his hands still gripping your thighs, lifting your ass higher as he lines his cock to your entrance.  

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks, probing the tip at your entrance. "Once I start I won't be able to stop. Is this something you want? I need to hear you say it."

"I want it, Joel. I want you."

"Do you want me to wear a condom?"

You look at him, shaking your head. "I thought you said you wanted to fuck a baby into me. I'm not on anything and you would be my first-"

Joel wraps your thighs around his waist, leaning towards you as he kisses you, long and deep. "I love you, Sugar... and I know you love me," He inches his tip into your entrance slowly, giving you shallow thrusts. "I'll give you everything-" he groans as he slowly fills you to the hilt, stopping his thrusts as he allows you to adjust to his length.  

It's a lot. Too long and too thick and you're gripping onto him, gripping onto him like a vice. You gasp at the intrusion, the pinch so sharp you close your eyes in pain, clutching at Joel, digging your nails harshly against his skin.  

"I need you to relax, Sugar," Joel says, his voice strained. "What do you need? I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head. "Just... talk to me. Distract me." You take a deep breath. "When did you know? Know that you loved me?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, a small smile on his face as he starts to slowly push in and out of you. "Do you remember the day that you first yelled at me? The day when I was working when it was storming out-"

"The day we had a tornado watch?" you pant, taking another deep breath as he continues to thrust into you, slow and deep. "You were an absolute moron, risking your life for some bullshit deadline my dad held over your head-" you gasp, your hips canting towards as you meet him thrust for thrust. "No amount of money is worth risking your life-"

"I couldn't bear seeing you cry, begging me to come down the roof," he groans, grabbing onto your hip as he thrusts deeper into you. "No one besides my family has shown me such care for my well-being, not even Sarah's mom, forcing me to work hell or high water... fuck.  You feel so fucking good baby, I don't think I can last-" he starts to thrust into you in earnest, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room.

It's obscene.

"You practically jumped onto me the moment I came down, gripping onto me like a life raft, fuck... feeling you in my arms, the tears running down your face-" he's pounding into you now, both of his hands gripping onto your hips harshly as he fucks you into the mattress. "I was fucking gone for you, baby," he pants. "I knew I loved you then. Knew I had to make you mine, no matter what it took... Fuck." Joel closes his eyes, throwing his head back as he fucks into you deeper, so deep you can't think straight, your second orgasm building. His chest is heaving as he opens his eyes once more, his face full of love and adoration.  

You never thought you would feel what belonging felt like, what home would feel like.

Seeing him look at you in wonder, like you hung the stars in the sky at night yourself...

You don't realize you're both crying, the tears from Joel's eyes running down his face as he sets a brutal pace, angling your hips higher as he plows into you.  

"I want to give you a family, baby. I want you to stay, forever."

"Then don't let me go, Joel. Don't leave me-" you gasp, your face wrought with tears. "I love you, Joel. So much."

"I won't," he breathes, leaning over you as he kisses you furiously, his hips snapping into you. "You're so close, baby, I can feel you gripping me so tight, I'm going to fill you up so good, give you a fucking baby, keep you in this house I built for you, never letting you leave..." he babbles incoherently. "Come with me, baby. Come with me, please-"

Your body tenses up like a coil, the string keeping your sanity together snapping as you shriek, Joel roaring as you both come, his spend pulsing into deep into you, thick and hot and molten.  

Joel slumps onto you, completely spent. He keeps his cock in you until he softens and slips out, his finger quickly gathering the spend seeping out of you and pushing it in, keeping it safe. He laughs as he falls onto the mattress next to you, pressing small chaste kisses on your face, taking you into his arms.  

"Did you mean it?" he asks softly, his fingers cradling your face. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers through his, offering him a small smile.

"I love you, Joel. So much."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[romanarose]

About a Girl: Chapter 1

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: Joel is a simple man. He goes to work, he takes care of his kindergarten age daughter, he tries to make sure Tommy doesn't die and occasionally Tess comes over. He works on Frank and Bill's farm with Tommy, Tess, and another coworker, Max. For his birthday, Tommy drags Joel out to a local grunge band's show, music he knows Joel hates. Joel is surprised to find Tess's girlfriends best friend, a girl they all call Blue because of the blue in her hair, has caught his attention.

What he doesn't know is she is trans. When he finds out, he's very confused, not because he judges her, but because he's not sure what it means for him. Does it make him gay? What does trans even mean? He's very confused. Still, despite all the confusion Joel has an open mind and he just knows that he has a lot of feelings for you and he wants to try. Joel goes on a journey of learning, not only what your trans identity means but also how to take care of himself, how to set boundaries, and learning he doesn't need carry the whole world on his shoulders.

Joel loves country, is as yeehaw as they come. Blue loves grunge, and looking as edgy as she can get by as a school teacher. Can you and Joel make it all work with the one thing that bonds them both together; flannel?

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

A/N: I am not a trans woman, but I am trans. I am doing my best research! If I got something wrong or accidentally say something offensive, please tell me! Same with Sarah's hair. I learned a LOT about black hair care from living with my black roommate for 2 years, and watching a lot of youtube. Again, if im incorrect or offensive, let me know and ill correct! I just want Joel to care about his daughters hair <3

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

It all started with Tommy, as most adventures do. Joel was certain Tommy would make sure to mention that fact during his best man speech.

“You have got to get out more. You’re making me stir crazy just watching you sit at home.”

Joel rolled his eyes, packing Sarah’s lunch. He was happy to throw in some plums, Sarah’s favorite fruit, that he got from the food pantry. Since Sarah started kindergarten and he didn’t have to pay for nearly as much childcare, things had gotten less horrifically tight financially but now he was playing catch up. Catching pneumonia last winter had drained his little savings with an ER visit. Joel desperately wanted to not rely on charity, but he also didn’t want Sarah to go without. 

“How would you know, you’re never even home.” Since getting out of the army, Tommy has not adjusted well. Joel was happy to let him live in the house he built for his ex-fiance on his parents land they gifted when Sarah was born. Tommy was a help with Sarah and was good company when he wasn’t out partying.

“Hey.” Tommy looked a little offended. “I’m here plenty. Just ask Sarah.” Sarah adored her uncle.

Joel sighed. “You’re right.” He wasn’t. “But I ain’t going. I can’t afford that, and I’d like to spend my days off with Sarah.”

Tommy tossed a cosmic brownie from the box he bought into Sarah’s lunchbox. “Come oooooon. Sarah loves the babysitter, and one night out won’t traumatize her forever. I’ll pay for the sitter, I already got tickets and I’ll even cover your drinks.”

Joel would rather the money go towards Sarah’s next dental appointment, but he couldn’t tell Tommy where to spend his money, and he knew there was no saying no to his brother when he gets like this. “How many bands are playing? I ain’t sitting through three openers, Tom.”

“Just one! You’re coming!” Tommy ran out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time before Joel could protest. “Sarah! Guess who gets to hang out with Jessica tonight!” Joel could hear the sound of springs bouncing as Sarah cheered and called out if the bed breaks, Tommy’s fixing it.

After getting Sarah dressed, he sat her down on a chair in the kitchen and looked at the clock. “Only got time for a ponytail, baby girl.” Joel had figured out some simple hair care for thick hair he wasn’t quite equipped to work with. Before Sarah was born, he didn’t know how to do a single braid. Joel had practiced a little before Tommy had to chop off his hippie curls for the army but he still was lost in a lot of ways. 2 years ago, Joel must’ve looked particularly lost in the ethnic hair aisle with Sarah in the cart and a kind woman guided him to some hair gel, argan oil, and an edge brush, scribbling a few instructions on some scratch paper. That’s what's gotten him through this far. Joel kept thinking he needed to reach out somewhere or maybe find a book… but with what time? 

Kayla, Sarah’s mom, wasn’t much help either. Kayla was mixed and absolutely inherited the polish side as far as hair, where Sarah got her late grandma’s genes. Kayla wanted to chemically straighten Sarah’s beautiful curls last year when she had her over Easter, but Joel put his foot down. When she was older, if she wanted to do whatever she wanted with her hair, braids, relaxed, wigs, she could but there was no way he was letting all those chemicals into a 4 year olds head just to make it “easier.” Joel could handle it.

She looked cute with her little puffball on the top of her head, anyway. 

“TOMMY! LETS GO!” Why was Tommy harder to get out the door than Sarah was?

Little hands tugged at his shirt. “Daddy I want coffee.” 

“No baby”

“Why?”

“It’s not good for little kids.”

“Uncle Tommy lets me have coffee.”

Joel sighed loudly. “Of course he did. Well, Sarah, that’s an uncle thing, I don’t know what to tell you. TOMMYYY!”

Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomped down the steps, dashing out the door. “Come one Jojo, whatcha wait’n for?”

*

How did little kids have so much energy in the morning? Tommy included. Sarah was chatty as ever on her way, talking excitedly about the eggs in the classroom's incubator. He tried to pay attention, he really did, but he was busy trying to figure out what bills he still owes. It was only September, one month into not having to pay out the ass for Sarah’s daycare. Was he even gonna be able to catch up at all before the summer comes? Her mom said she wanted to take her for the summer, but she was single right now and slightly more involved. When she finds a new man, she suddenly becomes much less interested in her child. Joel didn’t want Sarah around strange men all the time either.

“Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?”

Tommy nudged Joel, calling him name for Sarah’s attention.

“What?” Joel said, not unkindly but perhaps a little too harsh than he wanted to speak around his daughter. 

“Happy birthday daddy.”

Joel closed his eyes briefly, wincing at his prior tone. “Thank you baby. I’ll bring home a cake, how about that.” He felt like he could cry, snapping at his sweet girl for trying to wish him happy birthday. He was so bad at this.

Both children in the car cheered.

Joel dropped Sarah off with several kisses on her forehead, then ran off to the truck. He might just be on time if he speeds a bit. He didn’t speed with Sarah in the truck, he was less careful with Tommy. 

“Just in time!” Tess’s voice greeted them in the farm house. “You guys eat?”

She knew the answer. Sarah’s kindergarten had a free breakfast program, leaving Joel and Tommy on their own and god knows they didn’t take proper care of themselves. Luckily, they had great bosses.

Joel, Tommy, and Tess all worked for Bill and Frank on their farm. Joel had stumbled on this job shortly after Kayla left and God, what a blessing. Bill and Frank had trouble finding help being the only gay farmers on the planet to felt like, but Joel wasn’t really in a position to deny a good paying job, not in this economy, not with a baby who barely had a mom around anymore. This was before Tommy came back from the army, and Joel’s parents dead a few years prior. He was alone.

That’s where he met Tess. She was something else. A woman working as a farm hand alone was surprising enough, but she was the first openly bisexual person Joel had met. Hell, she was the only the third gay person he knew of and the first woman. He’d lived a sheltered life. Still, Joel didn’t really see an issue with none of it. Wasn’t his business what two grown adults did, that was his thought on the matter. Not that he really had enough time to have thoughts on much of anything other than keeping Sarah and Tommy alive. When Tommy came back, he started working on the farm too.

Tess slid the men some pancakes, stating she knew it and went ahead and made extra.

Frank entered the room with something in his hand. “Wait!” He placed the item, which Joel saw was a candle on the the pancake.

“Oh, no, you guys don’t gotta-”

“Shut the hell up, Miller.” Bill entered the room with a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a lighter in the other. He lit the candle, and then a cigarette. 

Frank took it out of his hand, putting it out under the sink. “If you absolutely must smoke, you’re not smoking inside our home.” He then turned back to Joel. “Happy birthday, Joel.” The forth employee, Max, enters the farmhouse and then embarrassingly, Franks leads everyone (except Bill) in a very shitty rendition of happy birthday.

*

“Hey,” Tess nudged Joel as she attempted to fix the clutch without calling Bill up. “You coming tonight?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Tommy convinced me. He also told Sarah it’s my birthday so now I gotta bring home cake and do a bit of the birthday thing with her. I was hoping to avoid it another year.”

She laughed at that. “Ah come on! It can’t be that bad.”

“She’s not, it’s my birthday that is.” 

“I know.” Tess patted his back.

Joel and her worked in silence for a moment, but he figured this was as good a time as any. “Hey uh… so. You and Tommy.”

Tess smirked, but didn’t look at him. “What about my dear friend?”

“Well uh, that’s just it…” Joel cleared his troat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just, you guys been spending a lot of time together, and I’m just… well you know he’s at tough spot right now…-”

“When isn’t he?”

“Right. Well. I’m just wondering… Well.”

With a chuckle, she put down the wrench and turned to look at Joel with a smile. “You’re wondering if Tommy and I are an item.”

Cringing hard enough his eyes were closed, Joel nods.

“Don’t worry about your baby brother, he can handle himself.”

“Can he?”

“Joel. Look at me.”

Joel forced his eyes open.

“Tommy and I fuck sometimes to blow off steam, don’t act you’re much different.”

“It was one time!”

“It was 4 times, glad to know that I’m that forgettable.” Tess continued with her teasing before Joel could protest. “Listen, I know you’re worried about him, but Tommy and I aren’t interested in dating each other. It’s just for fun sometimes. Tommy puts up a tough front but I’d eat that boy alive.”

Finally, Joel laughed. Yes, she would.

Tess went back to work. “Besides, you’re meeting my new girlfriend tonight, birthday boy.”

*

Joel was exhausted, washing his hands and forearms and face before leaving to get Sarah. He tried to stay as clean as possible for Sarah. She didn’t need to know how hard he worked for her.

“Hey Joel, I get to watch Sarah this fall don’t I?” Frank asked as he sauntered into the kitchen. 

Joel tried to protest, as he did every year, but it was merely a formality to be polite. He couldn’t afford childcare in the late hours it took to get harvest done. Hopefully it wouldn’t be so bad now that Max was hired on, he didn’t see Sarah hardly at all harvest. Joel would come back to the farmhouse to find Sarah asleep on the couch with Frank, who was no help with farming. He handled the finances and paperwork, and functioned as a babysitter in pinches. Joel was forever indebted to the couple, inclduding Bill despite his facade of toughness.

“Nonsense Joel. I look forward to seeing her every time.” Sarah fucking loved Frank. He was teaching her painting and how to have a proper tea party, real tea and all. But with a lot of sugar. 

Speaking earnestly, Joel tried to express his appreciation. “Thanks, Frank. I appreciate it. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Frank clapped Joel on the shoulders, sliding him a card. “Thank you for everything you do. We really value you. I know Bill doesn’t say it much, or at all, but we appreciate you here.” He walked off, knowing Joel would protest the $500 cash inside the card.

*

“Daddy! Daddy! I made a friend!” Sarah exclaimed excitedly, running up to her father still covered in her paint smock that quickly transferred the red and blue onto Joel’s jeans.

“Is that so? Who is it?”

Sarah pointed to a little brunette girl sitting in time out. “That’s Ellie! She’s in trouble because she pretended a block was a gun.”

“Oh.”

*

At home, Joel went through the evening routine with Sarah, Tommy having gone with Tess to pre-game. He fed her as much of the macaroni she’d eat, bathed her and made sure to make things as easy for the sitter as possible. When Jessica came over, a nice local teenager that was great with Sarah, he briefed her as he tried to clean up the kitchen. 

“Daddy? Where’s the cake.”

Goddammit of course he forgot something. He just can’t do anything right, can he? He was a shitty dad, a shitty brother, a shitty boyfriend, a needy employee-

“Where's the birthday boy!” Tommy burst in, followed by a group of people, some he knew, some he didn’t. With him was Tess carrying a cake.

“TESS!!!!!!” Sarah shouted, but went more for the cake she carried.

“Hiya, love bug!” She patted her ponytail. “Ready to sing happy birthday at the top of your lungs?”

Hadn’t she had enough happy birthdays? She must’ve known he’d forget the cake. They hadn’t been pregaming at all, they were making him a cake.

Tess hands the cake to Tommy, then gestures to the women next to her. Dark skinned, tall, her hair in… locks? Were those called locks? He was cooked. He needs to learn hair. “This is Talia, my girlfriend.”

Talia smiled brightly, extended a hand which Joel shook. “So nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Tess talks a lot about you Tommy and Max, it’s nice to put faces to the names.”

“Please, Joel is fine. I may ache like an old man, but I’m not one yet.” Joel joked with a soft but tired smile. He turned to tess. “Max coming?”

“Yup.” She shot him a look to be nice. Joel wasn’t fond of max. Good worker, shit head of a person. Joel knew he couldn’t really blame all Tommy’s shit on bad influences, but Max didn’t help. “And this,” She gestured over to another woman who he had just been too flustered to notice until now. “Is Talia’s best friend.”

You were absolutely fucking stunning, unlike anyting he’d ever seen in his life. Tight white tank top, tight leather pants and a leather jacket. In your hair was a streak of vibrant blue. Your eyes connected with his and for a moment, he forgot about all the other people in the room. 

“Oh, um, hello,” Joel shook your hand when he snapped out of it, repeating your name.

You smile at him. “Actually, most people just call me Blue.”

A small voice from Joel’s hip. “Is that because of your hair? Why is it blue? Are you sick?”

“Sarah! Don’t be rude.”

Chuckling brightly, you promise it’s okay and crouch down to Sarah’s eye level. “I’m not sick. I actually dye it like that.”

“But why?”

Internally, Joel groaned, thinking you’d take offense at the line of questions Sarah’s certainly had ready, but you just answered. “Well, I think it makes me look pretty, just you’re cute hair style makes you look pretty.”

Sarah lit up at that. “My daddy did it!!!”

“He did? That’s so awesome! You have such a nice daddy.”

Sarah nodded in avid agreement. “He’s the BEST!”

Joel couldn’t help smiling at that. He always felt like he was failing her, but she loved him regardless. “I can’t do a lot, but I’m trying to learn. I can do a mean ponytail.” Joel caught Tommy smirking at him.

Once the babysitter took Sarah to wash up for cake, Talia quietly spoke to Joel, still attached to Tess's arm. “Tess told me her mom isn’t really involved. I’d love to help you learn how to care for black hair.”

Joel felt his heart drop. “Oh shit, does it look terrible? I really tried but I don’t even know where to go and-”

Talia cut him off with a laugh and a hand up. “No, not at all! It looks very healthy. I just mean if you’d like to learn how to do more, especially as it gets longer.”

Always embarrassed to ask for help, he always swallowed his pride for Sarah. “Yeah, yeah actually I’d really like that… I’ll play yuh, don’t worry I wouldn’t make you do it for free-”

She attempted to say he didn’t need to pay, but Tess told her it was useless to try and fight. Joel figured the bonus from Bill and Frank could pay for Sarah’s dentist cleaning and the rest he could pay Talia. 

After a terrible happy birthday and saying goodbye to Sarah longer than really necessary, Joel was dragged out of the house to go to some shitty local grunge bands show for his birthday.

Joel fucking hated his birthday.

Thank you thank you thank you!!!!! I can't beleive people actually wanted to read this!!! We need more trans rep in this fandom <3

First chapter setting things up, then one chapter per week for 6 weeks for my Oscar/Pedro pride event!!! each chapter 2-7 will follow themes of the week until the happy end <3

MEET THE OC'S

Talia Monroe

Tess's girlfriend, Blue's bestfriend. Talia is joyfriend and high energy. She offers to help Joel learn black hair to properly care for Sarah.

Max Waltz

Works on the farm with Joel, Tommy, and Tess. Tommy likes him, Joel hates him, Tess ears towards liking him but tries to keep him in check. Max is a generally barzen man, hates his wife, is loud and annoying to Joel.

Kayla Carter

*no face claim right now*

Joel's high school sweetheart and ex-fiance, Sarah's mom. Kayla is in an out of sarah's life, lives out of town and is only around when its convinient, leaving Joel with alone.

I don't do tag lists for one shots but I do still for series so

How to keep up with the series:

Follow About a girl series on tumblr

follow @romana-updates and turn on notifications

Ask to be tagged!

I really enjoy writing this series so I hope you like it too <3

KISSES

Please remeber to reblog or comment or engage in some way <3 community keeps us all writing and drawing

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ashleyfilm @bumblepony @snnyc @casa-boiardi @del-ightfulling @joelsoftie

[lamamasjamas]

A/n: I made angst and depression on top of the ask oops (Anon is from my side blog which has now been "deactivated")

Warnings: Dub-con smut (Reader is not in a good mental state), heavy angst, he's so sexy grandpa, short drabble, mentions of addiction/drug use as well as withdrawals, Manipulative Joel, dark fic!!

"Don't."

Tess turns at his sharp tone and eyes him. Joel glances at the whites of her eyes from his peripherals. She looks up, her pupils pointed to the sky, her tongue pressing against the side of her cheek in mock annoyance.

"Why not?"

He stares off into the distance with his shoulders tense and his arms crossed in contemplation. The QZ was always an option to him and Tess. They could come and go as they pleased, they could leave if they wanted, together, maybe even make things work between them once and for all.

"She likes you, always has," Tess mentions referring to the addict that keeps coming back to him.

They had met years ago, barely twenty-two, already asking for some drugs, any drugs that could take away the images in her head, the thoughts that kept her up at night and made her afraid of herself.

She quickly became addicted to Joel as much as the stuff that he gave her. He likes that she keeps coming back to him like a dependency. He would never admit that to anyone though.

"You like her too, so what's the big deal?"

He sniffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She's young, she doesn't know what she likes, what she wants-"

"She's thirty-three, Joel."

He finally turns to her and gives her a look. She sighs. Convincing Joel of anything seemed to be completely useless at this point. With age, his stubbornness only increased. Most of the time she had found the appeal to it, the fun and lust for the thick headedness of his actions.

But she's tired and frankly, with her own age, the original spark had gone dull.

"You'd rather she be with some other fuck in the QZ?"

She knew where to hit him, where his anger would rise the most. Joel was always jealous, ever since they met. When Tess had been able to get in contact with someone over the radio named Frank, he felt acid in his veins.

Good thing Frank wasn't interested in her, not in the way he originally thought.

He scowls.

"Oh c'mon Joel, you've fucked her before, haven't you? It will be fun, I'm sure she'll want to do it again."

He stays quiet, she pushes on his shoulder lightly, starting to chuckle.

"Just open your palm and she'll come running like a little‐"

"Don't‐," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, turning back and stepping down from the small hill that overlooks the fallen jagged cityline.

"She doesn't deserve to be spoken about like that," he mumbles, as if he had more morality than her.

Tess hums, wanting nothing more than to have finished her sentence, aching to remind him of how much you were already wrapped around his finger. In some sense you really were, judging by your raspy moans and heady breaths a month ago, the last time Joel had seen you and coincidentally the night he had told you to stop seeking him out.

"Such a Gentlemen. See? You won't have to try so hard."

He gives her another look.

"We need this, then we might be able to get out of this place."

...

Withdrawals were a pain in the ass. Some moments you shake, having to hide your hand behind your back, biting your lip so hard it made you bleed, just so that officers wouldn't shoot you at the slightest twitch of a hand.

Other times you feel fine, your mind numb, cloudy but not enough to incapacitate you from your work. The worst is when your home, when you can't distract yourself with the flames and foul smell of rotting or burning flesh.

Being stationed in charge of the disposal of all of the infected bodies came with needs, and those needs could only be fulfilled by Joel Miller. The man who had left you to fend for yourself and deal with your sudden loss of drugs and supply.

You hated Joel, hated the way he made you believe he had actually cared about you. It's been a month, no pills, no nothing, only you and your thoughts.

Now you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your body covered in sweat and itching with discomfort. There's a knock at your door, the same one he had told you would signify his arrival.

Now you were hallucinating, thinking of the damn bastard that had left you feeling sick and deprived. Your mind was numb, your body needing something, something to make your skin sing, your veins to sting with pleasure even if for just a moment.

You think of his hands and the door knocks again. Your own fingertips travel down to your breast, pinching your budding nipple through the fabric of your ssweater. You hear your name, out from his own lips and calling for you in his voice.

A shiver rolls down your spine. Your hands slip down your stomach and towards your folds, spreading your legs, imagining his head between them, kissing up your thigh, commenting on how the taste of your pussy was enough compensation for the ache of his knees and back.

The dip of your fingers wasn't enough, your brows furrow, they weren't as thick as you wanted, the way it should be.

"Open. It's me."

The door shakes with another bout of banging. You almost fall to the floor. Your eyes start to water and your heart races. For a few moments, he hears you shuffle around, cursing under your breath and ultimately breathing in deeply.

You open the door, and his eyes soften, just a little. Enough for you to see the slight guilt and especially enough for you to feel the pity he had for you.

"What do you want?"

His eyes rake over your form, you wore nothing but a tattered sweater, the one he had given you and that he found while scavenging outside the QZ.

Your voice was weak, you pull your sleeves over your fingers, bitten raw and meaty. In your mind, you had yelled at him, screamed and pushed him by the chest to show your anger, frustration and betrayal.

Your hands start to shake as he makes his way inside, his eyes giving you a once over at the blank look you had. He sits at the edge of your bed. His face was stoic, still stern. He looked as though he didn't bring himself to your apartment, as if you were making him sit his ass down to tend to his wounds like all of the other times.

"C'mere."

You don't move, your skin starts to itch, anxiety builds in your stomach. His mouth barely opened; he grits his teeth as he repeats his command.

Seeing you like this made him angry. Your eyes were sunken in, your body looking sickly and frail. You weren't taking care of yourself, and it was all his fault.

You move forward and his hands wound around your waist to help you straddle his hips. Your hands instinctively move towards the breast pockets of his flannel, he slaps them away.

"I need something."

You ignore him, now clawing at his jean pocket, looking for a little reused baggy of baby blue or white pills. He takes your wrists and holds them so tight you flinch.

"Listen to me."

He was like a snake, moving his head languidly in front of your face until you had finally given him eye contact. For a few moments you scowl, your eyes were clear in their anger.

He felt you. The real you. Then you looked down submissively, attempting to keep still against him, despite the way your body shook in tremors.

God, he ruined you. He shifts his thigh, pushing you slightly back so that you weren't as flush against his chest. Your legs split between his leg as he adjusts on your bed.

Your breath hitches when your cunt spreads against the rough denim of his jeans. He watches as you lick your lips, he feels the way you dampen the fabric underneath you.

He stares at your lips, remembering the time he made you swallow down a pill with his cum still held in your tongue. His eyes soften and his palm meets the sweaty, hot skin of your cheek.

His thumb pushes in, he can't help it. You suck automatically, expecting there to be sweet chalky dust littered on his fingertips.

"Need you to do me a favor..."

Your eyes tear up and you suck harder, your hips starting to twitch back and forth.

"Have some friends working for Robert, yeah?"

You don't respond, he already knows. You feel a pit of anger build in your lower stomach; you pull yourself away, but he keeps your hips in place.

His thigh bounces up against you and his finger pops out of your mouth to grip your chin. He looks down at you softly, his eyes trailing down to your lips before leaning down to devour them.

His hand cups the back of your neck and his thumb tilts your head up. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue traveling further as you moan as his other wandering hand massaging into the side of your breast.

He breaks the kiss slightly, thick spit trailing over your lips as he kneads your body and flexes his thigh. His eyes search over your face as you start to roll your hips and your eyes flutter closed.

"C'mon baby... I'll give you what you want if you just tell me."

You swallow thickly and lick your lips. His hand lowers between your legs, a knuckle brushing against your cunt and circling over your clit, glossy with your slick and pulsing in time with each grind of your hips on his thigh.

His lips trail down your neck as you nod slightly.

"Y-yeah..." you trail off, only speaking with an exhale.

Your hands reach the back of his head as he bites down on your shoulder, humming as you finally answered his question. He looks up at you from there, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose under your chin.

He helps you shift closer to him, your eyes closing tightly and your lips pursing as you contained your moans of relief and pleasure at his touch and the sudden closeness of another body against yours.

"Heard they found a battery..."

You nod and lean down to kiss him again, a whine escaping your lips as he tilts his head to the side and you inevitably miss.

"Joel-"

"Know where it is, honey?"

The slightest flinch of your brow, the question developing in your head and showing through your eyes made him hesitate. He kisses you again and you're distracted.

Minutes later he has your pussy squelching, your neck and jaw covered in love bites and your hips bruised with his grip. Your back meets his chest as your hips work over his thigh.

His fingers were furiously swirling over your clit, his other hand holding your neck steady as he mouthed over your neck.

Your body shakes and he feels the way your cunt pulses in orgasm. A garbled moan escapes past your lips and you feel the way his chest rumbles in a chuckle.

Joel's mouth doesn't stop, his lips start to suck harshly against your skin, making it bruise tender, your skin resulting in raised bumps.

You realize, as he tightens his hands on you and shakes himself, that he missed the feeling.

"Fireflies," you mumble against his chest. Your body was laid on the covers, his laying on his side beside you. His hands caress over your neck, he nods and sighs in what you think is relief.

A couple minutes later he sits up, your eyes close and you feel the cold brush through your body again. The tremors come back and the twitch of your fingers towards him were weak.

He leaves something on the bedside table, you hear the shuffling of his jeans and a wet cloth against your swollen cunt. It almost feels as if you were on the precipice of sleep.

You feel lips on your forehead, the wetness of them leaves an uncomfortable feeling on your skin. The door opens and closes softly.

As you lay on the mattress, finding that he hadn't even left his scent behind on your pillowcases, you realize something else. You stare at the baggy full of pills, a little more packed than the usual he would give you.

He's gone and he used you one last time.

A/n: Fun fact, I was listening to Fog as a Bullet by The Marias...but I don't think anyone cares anyway :)))

[amywritesthings]

SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (3/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

Warnings: PRE-TLOU, Mentions of death and violence, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Angry!Joel, Eventual Smut, Semi-Enemies to Fuckers, Sexual tension, Alcoholism, Drinking/Drinking Games, Suggestive Language, One Bed Trope

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter | Masterlist

CHAPTER 3: THEY ARE TWO ALONE

For most of the day, Joel Miller is nowhere to be found.

Neither is Tess, which is a concerning thought nipping at the back of your mind. In this decaying world, a means of communication starts and ends with radio, letters, or simply showing up. You have to trust the other woman knows what she’s doing and leave it at that.

A few days.

You can handle a studio apartment prison on your own for a few days.

While Joel explicitly said not to touch anything, he never said about looking. The apartment is equal parts busy and barren. Quaint and simple yet full of meaningless trinkets scavenged from another person’s trash around the makeshift city. No photographs, though those are impossible to come by anymore. No personal items, though you wouldn’t even know what’s considered sacred to Joel even with a gun to your head.

It’s all acquired junk for places, spaces, meant to fill up a void.

And without touching anything beyond the pans and plates in the sink, there’s not much else to do.

Circling for what feels like the tenth time around the small space, what catches your eye every wrap around is the Top 100 book sitting right next to the FM radio. Its bright white face and pop-art font is sinfully inviting, begging to be opened and read.

On the fourteenth walk-around, your hand reaches for it and hovers.

You shouldn’t.

On the twentieth-seventh, however, you gently peel back a page. Then another.

Soon you find yourself picking up the damn thing to carefully flip through it, but the brick of a book quickly opens and settles to a hardened section: one divided by a notepad disguised as a bookmark. 

It takes a second to realize it’s the same notepad as last night, and your eye gravitates to the title of the page: Top Billboard Hits of 1974.

(Wasn’t it a Barry Manilow song playing when you walked in last night?)

Out of what little respect you can give in the midst of breaking your promise to Joel, you keep flipping, choosing not to pry on the contents inside said notepad.

(He doesn't want to be known, just like you.)

Three hours pass with a ferocious quickness as you stand by the radio, reading annual time capsules of music history soon to be forgotten in the coming years.

(Most of it already has.)

Once you hit a section defining the trends of the 80’s, you decide not to push your luck. You set the chunky white book exactly where Joel left it — a hope that, while you broke what little trust he had in you, the action will go unnoticed.

Circles upon circles you walk to the couch, the bedroom, the kitchenette, hovering over other items of interest as you do. You have to admit: this place has more than what you do at the piece of shit studio space Fedra gave to you in this town, but it will have—

The door creaks.

Stopping in your tracks, you turn swiftly from the cupboards with a dreadful wave of guilt.

Joel shuffles in with a pack slung over his shoulder and an arm full of packaged items. He looks worse for wear, tired, but curfew isn’t for another two hours. There’s still some daylight to be had.

When you lock eyes, you can feel your stomach plummet to the floor.

Joel’s scowl returns, a once-smooth brow now knit with distrust.

“Did you—”

“Nope,” you lie, shaking your head. “Didn’t touch anything. Just… looked around, being nosey.”

“Well, stop,” Joel warns, low and graveled, as he drops the items to the dining table. “Ain’t your place to be nosey about.”

“Right. Sorry.”

The older man begins removing the small pack of chicken eggs, a canteen of goat’s milk, and another bottle full of that amber liquid similar to the one left out last night.

More liquor.

(How does he afford this shit?)

“Is Tess coming back tonight?” you ask from the kitchenette, resting your hips against the counter. You mirror his stance from the morning, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Joel tells you, head bowed as he zips up the emptied pack.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?”

“Just worried.”

“Why?” Joel asks, tone laced with boredom. “Does it have something to do about why the fuck she’s stuck me with you?”

Your jaw sets, following with your eyes as he drops down at the dining table unceremoniously. Knees spread apart, the man drops one hand to the crotch of his jeans while the other drags the newly acquired liquor bottle closer.

“Staying out two nights in a row past curfew is dangerous.”

“It is,” he agrees. “And she’s doing it for you, so it must be worth something.”

Are you worth anything, is the question you feel souring the pit of your stomach.

Fuck this.

Joel Miller’s a boogeyman, sure, but he can’t do anything to you.

(Can he?)

Pushing yourself from the kitchen cabinet, you walk ten steps to meet him at the dining table. Joel’s minding his own business, too busy checking if the glass from last night is doable for tonight. He doesn’t look up until the scrape of the second chair echoes through the apartment.

Before he can protest, you drop to sit across from him.

“If you give me some of that whiskey, I’ll tell you a little about it.”

Joel’s brow furrows further, scruffy chin tilting with mild curiosity. “You bribing me?”

“I’m suggesting a drinking game, if you stop acting like I’m out to get you.”

It’s a choice, but you stick by it. Feigned confidence, sure, but you lean back into the chair and watch him with your best attempt at nonchalance.

Joel takes a moment to compute the suggestion, visibly confused. “A drinking game.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles humorlessly. “No.”

“What?”

"Fuck no.”

You can’t stop yourself from gawking, eyes widening. “Why not?”

“Because,” he begins, uncorking the bottle and pouring a glass for himself, “I’m old and know what happens with one of them innocent drinking games.”

“And what happens?”

“People get too comfortable.” Matter of fact. Bitter. Joel stares you in the eye at his first sip. “That ain’t what this is gonna be.”

“What the fuck else do you wanna do while I’m maybe two, three days away from Tess getting herself out of this mess?”

There.

Just enough of an information slip where Joel reconsiders.

“Tess said it was your mess,” he says. 

You straighten your back, chin lifted in defiance. Eye to eye.

For a split-second you blink down at the bottle, then back up to him, waiting.

A game of chicken.

(If you want to know, then play.)

And by some miracle, a groan emits from Joel’s throat. He slaps his hands down on his denim thighs, standing from his chair to grab a clean glass lying around the apartment.

“Un-fucking-real.”

It takes everything you have not to smile, satisfied with the win.

He drops the glass in front of you, pushing the bottle to you to pour your own drink. You take a little less than him, sipping for good measure and grimacing immediately after.

It’s awful.

Fucking terrible, but it’ll do.

“Tess was running a job against Robert,” you admit, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "So was I. Kind of. She asked for a hand."

Joel sits back down, wincing from sore joints and aching muscles. “You know that piece of shit?”

“Unfortunately. Rations are tight. His supply isn’t.” You gesture to his glass. “Where’re you from?”

“Not answering that.”

“It’s the game, Miller.”

Joel glares, taking a large gulp. “Texas. Continue.”

The drawl now makes sense. You settle in, taking a braver sip. “She might have gotten a little snippy with one of his goons when they implied we owed papers. And... I might have gotten a little overconfident when they tried intimidating her.”

“In what way?”

“That’s two questions,” you say. “What kind of work did you do before all this?”

Joel huffs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I asked.”

He gives you a look — a warning — before reaching for your glass. He fills the glass higher with the well-water whiskey. “You need to pour better drinks if you’re gonna ask shit like that.”

“Fine,” you agree, airy and unfazed. “What did you do?”

“Carpentry,” he relents. “What d’you mean, you got a little overconfident? A fight?”

“You think Tess would have to run interference for a ceasefire if it was just a punch to the face?”

The rhetorical question hangs between you, uncomfortably so, and all he does is stare. Study. Trying to figure out you, to assess if you’re capable of what you’re laying claim to.

(Are you capable of hurting — really hurting — someone?)

"So you saved her life."

"He won't be attacking her again, if that's what you're asking," you answer with a bluntness learned from the man across the table. "Which would technically be two questions if you were."

After a minute, you take a Joel-approved gulp of the acidic whiskey.

To up the stakes, you finish the glass and push it back to him: pour. He relents, filling the cup to the same amount but not without looking at you with a difference.

“So that's what that string bean of an asshole came talking to you about during that sweep job.”

Your chin tilts ever so slightly. You’re no detective, but you can read between lines. Your lips part, not quite taking the lip of the glass back to your mouth just yet.

“You said you didn’t watch me.”

He takes the gulp you won’t, filling his glass for a third time when he answers.

“I didn’t,” he argues. “Just kept my eye on you.”

I saw you.

"Why?" you ask.

"Is that your question for this round?" Joel mocks.

You narrow your eyes. "Sure."

Joel shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "I'unno, looked heated. I know Robert's goons, as much as don't want to."

"They're pieces of shit."

"That's the generous way of putting it," Joel replies. "Like I said, just kept my eye on you to make sure he wasn't starting shit where it wasn't wanted."

“Well that’s a relief, because I kept my eye on you, too, when they came sniffing around job sites to avoid you.” Joel straightens his posture in his chair, followed by a hum of intrigue. Your mouth opens with an excuse, but the liquor makes you fumble an otherwise smooth night. “I’m— No, not like that. I wasn’t watching you or anything, but just… watching.”

There is a ghostly presence of amusement in his eyes.

“You said watchin’ twice.”

Your nose scrunches with bubbling embarrassment. “...this shit is really strong on an empty stomach. Whatever I say is not on me.”

His chin tilts. “You ain’t had anything to eat yet?”

“You said not to touch anything,” you tell him, sing-song and mocking as you finish off your second. “I listen.”

“Like hell you listen. No one does. Not even Tess,” he chuckles, but shuffles through a brown bag to toss you a premade sandwich from the south mart. You mouth a hasty thank you, scrambling to pick it up. While you devour the plain cheese sandwich, Joel almost makes you choke on the bread. “Thought maybe that piece of shit was a boyfriend or something.”

“A boy—” You stop yourself in a gawk and drop the sandwich, mouth opening with a curving smile. “Joel Miller, are you all of a sudden interested in my love life?”

He coughs into his drink, recovering with a throwaway dismissal. “Too fucking old to care about anyone’s love life, kid, but you’re young. Lot of people would say you still got your whole life ahead of you. Still can… date and do whatever the fuck it is people do anymore.”

“Oh, sure I do,” you slur, happy about the swirling feeling in your forehead. “My whole life. My whole… quarantine zone life. I’m just an apocalyptic Gibson Girl, snatching up Robert’s brain-dead dumbasses and seducing them long enough to drop their guard so I can beat them until they’re a breath away from being a vegetable.”

The obscure reference lost within the rant actually makes him almost laugh, chortled from swallowing the whiskey. “A what now?” 

“A Gibson Girl,” you tell him, unable to stop the smile from breaking on your lips. “You never heard of her? Evelyn Nesbit, the Victorian woman who set the… impossibly high standard for every single woman she came into contact with. The woman that people desired and wanted. Her life was some really morbid shit.”

Joel snorts. “So s’that what you are? Boston’s most desirable?”

“I don’t know,” you modestly respond before you can stop yourself. “You see me, so you tell me.”

That brings an air to a room, thick and somewhere in a fog at your knees. Joel’s eyes wander, dropping lower and settling there or a moment too long before he clears his throat. 

Rather than answering, he pours himself a fourth drink.

You should stop while you’re ahead.

In this lighting — Joel, tinged with a blush from the alcohol that peppers his sullen face, lips plush and parted, free hand resting on the dining table while the other remains in his lap — you feel a familiar heartbeat in your lower belly begging you not to.

The setting sun is long gone. It’s just the two of you, in the dark, in the night, without moving to turn on a light.

“What about Tess?” you ask after a pause, tone softer. “Is she your… girlfriend, or whatever?”

“Tess? I’m—” The forward question seems to sober him up. “Huh. No, no we ain’t. We… take care of each other, but not like that.”

“And what is that?”

“We’re both adults. You know what I mean.” He finishes the rest of his third drink. “So no, not like that. You?”

The feeling in your belly only tightens, scared and curious all the same. “Me?”

“Yeah. Besides the lumped up vegetable, you got anyone?”

You shake your head a little too fast. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone. There's no point, but I get the appeal. Having someone. I just wanna… feel something, even if it hurts a little, if that makes any sense at all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see it: the hand resting on the dining table curls into a fist. Your breath catches in your throat, pausing your second rant of the night.

(Did you say too much?)

“You should catch some shut eye,” he says.

The sudden change in conversation forces you to look up, uncertain. 

(Apparently so.)

“But it’s still early.”

“And the sun comes up earlier this time of year, too.”

It’s a horrible excuse, but it’s the only one he has in the chamber. Joel pushes his chair out to stand, rubbing his nose with the side of his hand. He stumbles over to the couch behind you, flopping onto it with his forearm over his eyes.

You stay sitting at the table, bewildered by the sudden shut out.

“Maybe you should take the bed tonight,” you quietly offer.

Under his arm, Joel’s head shakes. “You get the bed.”

“If you keep sleeping on the couch, then your back’ll hurt more than it probably already does.”

Something otherworldly happens.

Joel laughs, from his belly to his chest.

“Ain’t no amount of sleep or softness that’s gonna save this back.” Then his own voice softens, unlike anything you’ve ever heard from the older man. “Get your beauty sleep, Gibson Girl.”

Slowly you stand — Jesus, it’s worse when you stand — and eventually stumble your way towards the bed propped on cement. Rather than being careful like last night, you flop onto it and are met with a nose full of musk and cheap cleaning solution.

You grab a fistful of sheets, dragging the rest of your numbed body into bed.

“Goodnight,” he calls from the couch on the other side of the wall, and you smile.

“Goodnight, Miller.”

Author's Note: Things are kicking up a notch in this apartment! You know me... I love my slow burns. The outpour of support and excitement has been unreal. Thank you for your reblogs & comments. You have seriously made my past week wonderful.

[ghostfanwriter]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

← Previous

My Masterlist 🩷

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln. Bill, Frank and Joel are all the age they are when they're having lunch in ep03, don't ask me the timeline, just pretend they're still that young in 2023.

🧰 Synopsys: Bill and Joel have an unexpected encounter while outside Lincoln, and Joel sees you under Bill's gaze for the first time.

💖 Word count: 6.5k

🧰 Author's note: It's insane how long this series is taking me, but I'm really, really happy to know that some of you still love it. It means a lot and I love you all so much 🩷 🫶🏻

Joel wouldn't be honest if he said he was looking forward to this. Not only because Bill is a very closed man — they both were — but also because he felt like Bill somehow knew what he's done. Like he could hear Joel's thoughts and watch his memories.

And he couldn't stop thinking about you as they drove away from Lincoln. He couldn't not think about you, about how he kissed you, how he touched you, his growing feelings for you. The more he tried not to think about you, the more you took over him.

"You said you've let everything where you've found them, right? Are the stores near one another?" Bill breaks the deafening silence.

Joel almost sighs in relief. Any conversation would be better than thinking about you when he was certain that your dad could read his mind.

"Yeah." Joel cleans his throat. "The stores are near one another. I didn't wanna leave everything together and have someone come by and see it." He says and Bill looks at him. "You never know. A lot of the things I've found need electricity and fuel. If someone saw them they'd wait for whoever wanted them. Whoever could use them." He adds, and your dad nods.

"That's better, yeah." Bill agrees.

They go silent for a while, and Joel's tiredness allows him to not think about you as he looks out the window.

"Did you talk to Tess?" Bill asks and Joel breathes deeply, taking a while to respond.

Silence would be better.

"I did. She called on the radio the other day." He sighs, readjusting himself on his seat. "She doesn't think about leaving the QZ." He adds when Bill doesn't say anything else.

Bill grunts in response, confusing himself with how disappointed the news got him.

He never before thought about having other people in Lincoln, but as him and Frank age, he started worrying about leaving you all by yourself.

Especially because he knows how much happier you two got after Frank arrived, how miserable he would've been if he had never found you. He doesn't want you to experience loneliness.

"But she said she'd keep the deal if I wanted to stay." Joel says, and Bill frowns.

"And you'd stay without her?" He asks, confused.

"Unless you have a problem with that." Joel shrugs, his tone unreadable but not confrontational.

"Aren't you two a couple?" Your dad asks, confused.

Maybe that's the first truth Joel owes Bill.

"We aren't... Together anymore." Joel sighs, and Bill looks at him. "We haven't been for a few years now."

"I didn't know that." Bill says, his posture tensing as he thinks about how close you and Joel seemed the last few days.

It's not like they were trying to hide it. Tess told you when you met that she and Joel were just friends. But Bill's guard was so high that day that he forgot about the details about their relationship.

"We're just business partners now." He says.

"Do you think about staying without her?" Your dad insists, and Joel moves his neck, as if trying to crack it, to release some of the tension this conversation is bringing him.

"I'm thinking about it." Joel admits.

"Alright." Bill says, looking uncomfortable.

"Is the offer still up without Tess?" Joel insists, his tone still unreadable, but calm.

Bill shakes his head. "I don't know." He says, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "I thought you were with Tess, and... With my daughter at home..."

"I know." Joel agrees. He knows.

He knows the feeling of never trusting anyone enough to let them alone with his daughter.

And he feels like he broke Bill's trust, like he did the one thing he couldn't.

And he feels bad, he feels like curling into a ball, like telling Bill the truth so he punches him until he forgets what he's done with you. Because that's what he'd do to the man that dared to touch his Sarah.

After a few seconds your dad sighs. "I'm sorry but this changes everything. I thought you two would stay, stay with her after Frank and I—" he cuts himself when his voice starts cracking.

"No, it's okay. I get it." Joel says, and Bill looks at him.

"I'm not saying you can't stay. I just... I need to think about it first. Need to talk to her and Frank, see how they feel about it." Bill says honestly, his mind racing as he tries to follow Frank's request to be nicer to Joel.

"Sure." Joel nods, looking out the window and commiting to silence until they get to their destination.

...

No long after, they see the stores in the distance, the streets around them dirty, empty and quiet, a sense of uneasiness on the air, the certainty that danger hides in the shadows.

"We should continue by feet. At least if something happens we don't lose the truck." Joel suggests, and Bill nods, slowing the car, looking for a place to hide it.

They leave the truck and walk silently until the first store.

"I left this here." Joel says, touching a red wooden panel that's partially blocking the main door, a subtle mark perfectly aligned from the door to the panel. "To see if anyone would touch it." He adds, and Bill looks at him. "No one did." He finishes, and they walk in.

"What's in this one?" Bill asks, looking around, his rifle in hand, and Joel takes a note out of his back pocket, reading him the list he's made.

They take everything out of the stores, working together and fast so they can get out of there as quickly as possible.

When there's just one store left, Joel goes to it while Bill brings the truck closer to where they've placed everything.

...

Bill's struggling to place some heavy tools on the back of his truck when a gunshot near him makes him jump. He draws his gun and turns around, almost stepping on a dead stalker's body that's unexpectedly close to him and the truck.

He looks in the stores direction, his heart racing. He finds Joel holding his shotgun, a simultaneously worried and relieved expression in his face as his shoulders fall back down.

An infected, mere inches away from him. And he didn't notice it, he didn't even hear it. If Joel weren't there with him, looking at him... he could be dead right now. He would be dead right now.

It numbs him for a while. He leans on the truck, catching his breath and trying to calm himself.

Joel comes close and touches his shoulder firmly.

"Are you ok?" He asks, and your dad nods, his eyes wide and scared as he looks at Joel. "Did it touch you?" Joel asks, looking at Bill's arms.

"No." Your dad responds shaking his head, his voice weak. He clears his throat before continuing. "No, it didn't. You shot it before it got too close." He says nodding, his tone grateful.

"Yeah, but I almost didn't." Joel says in a warning tone. "I shot it as soon as I turned to look at you. Didn't you hear it coming close to you?" Joel asks, a clear worry in his eyes.

"Thank you." Your father says dryly, more like he's asking Joel to drop it than actually thanking him.

Joel nods, respecting Bill and giving him space, taking a step back and pulling the infected body away from the truck so they can keep packing up.

...

They finish what they had to do in silence, Bill always looking behind his shoulders and Joel always checking on him.

Seeing how startled ana scared Bill still was, Joel insisted on driving them back home, and so they did in silence, both with their heads full of worries, all of them related to you.

They arrive and park the truck in front of the garage, unloading the truck. Not a word spoken about what happened.

"Hey, boys!' Frank enthusiastically greets the two tired men, and Joel turns instantly, expecting to see you. But he turns back around as soon as he sees that Frank's by himself, offering him a small smile.

"Hey." They say together, and Frank tilts his head at how weird them both seem.

"Is everything alright? You've found everything, did something happen?" He asks, and Bill looks at Joel, who's focused on unloading the truck and not getting in between them.

If Bill doesn't say anything about what happened, he won't either.

"Yeah, alright." Bill dismisses Frank, putting on a smile to mask any tension. "We've brought your paint! We can start working on the houses, the boutique!" He says, and Frank finds his sudden enthusiasm in renovating the facades suspicious.

"Joel?" Frank calls, looking past Bill, and Joel closes his eyes, taking a subtle deep breath before turning around.

"Frank." He nods.

"What the fuck happened?" He asks. "I thought you two would arrive at least happy that you came back home safe, happy to have found everything you were looking for." He says, frustrated.

"We are." Joel says. "But it's not like going shopping. You see things you didn't wanna see, you're tense and worried all the time." He says, not giving space for further questioning, and Frank lowers his guard, looking almost embarrassed by his impatience.

"Ugh, you're right, I'm sorry. My head's full, I'm..." He looks at Joel and cuts himself, turning to Bill, touching his arm. " Sorry, love, why don't we go inside, we can unload the truck later." He tells Bill, who nods and turns to Joel, an appreciative look in his eyes.

"Leave it, Joel. Go get some rest, we'll do this later. I'm gonna take a shower, you should do the same." He says, and Joel follows them inside the house.

You've finished washing the underwear Joel's brought you. He told you to wash them thoroughly, and so you did, carefully washing each piece, looking at them, imagining what you'd look like with them on.

The thought of wearing such revealing pieces, of being so exposed to him — all while he'd probably still be fully clothed — makes you feel your insides warm up.

You run two fingers through your folds and moan at how wet you are. At how wet just thinking about him got you. You run circles around your clit, slow, light and controlled at first, then deeper and stronger as you get closer — just like he taught you.

But your arm gets tired before you get anywhere, and you moan in frustration.

So you remove the small shower head from it's hose and partially block the water flow, directing the pressured water to your clit, moaning with the sensation. And your mind goes right back to Joel.

His broad back, his warm chest, his rough hands running up and down your sides. The soft skin of his cock pressing against your clit, the praisings he whispered on your ears while he touched you.

How softly and gently he talked to you while making you cum, how good and overwhelming it feels to experience pleasure with someone else.

To experience pleasure with him.

You're holding back your moans as well as you can when you hear footsteps coming closer to your bathroom door, and you freeze, your heart slamming against your chest.

"Baby?" You hear Joel's soft voice calling, and your fingers instantly return their needy circles.

"Joel..." You moan in response, seeing his shadow under the door. He starts moving the doorknob, but suddenly rushes away from the door.

You imagine him walking in, the face he would've made when he saw you like this, how wet you are for him, how ready you are for him, how much you want him inside you, how he could just do it right there...

How tired he probably is, how much you just want to make him feel better and appreciated for everything he's doing for all of you, how you just want him inside your mouth...

You cum, his name choked on your throat as your legs stiffen, your walls convulsing desperately around nothing, and you do your best to not scream nor fall down on the slippery floor.

...

As he goes up stairs to his bedroom, he stops before your bedroom door. No sounds from your dads. He goes into your bedroom, following the steam coming from your bathroom. He stops right in front of the door, your low hums and moans making him close his eyes.

It brings him back to that other night, feeling you underneath his body, your skin so soft and warm, the citric and flowery smell of your neck, the way your hands are still learning how to behave, where to touch him, how to scratch his skin, how to run your fingers through his hair, how your tongue is still learning to explore his mouth, how goddamn curious and eager you are to learn how to share intimacy with him. How responsive you are to his touches.

"Baby?" He softly calls you, his brain painting the torturous and irresistible picture of what you're doing in there.

"Joel..." You moan back, and the sound makes him grunt under his breath, turning the doorknob.

But before he opens the door, he hears a squeak coming from the stairs, and rushes out of your bedroom, closing the door and quickly making his way down the hallway to his own bedroom.

"Joel?" Bill calls as soon as Joel reaches his bedroom door, his heart is beating so fast he's certain your dad can hear it.

"Hey." He responds, turning around and trying to hide his heavy breathing.

"What happened today... We're gonna keep it down. They don't need to know." Bill says. "Ever." He emphasizes.

"They won't hear it from me." Joel agrees, and Bill awkwardly stands there, like he's gathering the courage to speak.

"And I'm sorry I said you weren't invited to move in by yourself. You are. Not just because you saved me... but because I'm getting old. I didn't even hear the damn thing coming near me." He says in a hushed whisper, his voice getting caught in his throat. "They can't even dream that it happened. And I need someone to look after them when I can't anymore. Someone to look after her." He says firmly.

"I think you've taught her enough to handle herself." Joel reassures him.

"She's never been in real danger, Joel." Your dad chuckles. "She's a good hunter, a good shooter, she's good in body combat. She helped me take those raiders down, but she doesn't know how this world works." Bill sighs, letting his worries out for the first time.

"To be fair, no one knows." Joel shrugs, seeing the worry and protectiveness in Bill's eyes. "And she's not a child, Bill. You've taught her enough for her to look after herself." Joel insists, trying to ease some of your dad's distress.

"She's safe as long as she's in here, Joel." Bill sighs. "But I'd like to know that there's someone here with her. Someone I know can keep her safe. And after today... I know you can." He says, his heart swelling just to imagine you being all alone. "She looks like an adult but... She's just a child, Joel. She only knows me and Frank, life inside these fences..." Bill says, and Joel's heart sinks.

For the first time he's talking to your dad about you, and for the first time he's seeing you under Bill's light. He's seeing you as a secluded, inexperienced and naive twenty three year old girl who never had the chance to mature normally, who fell for the first unknown man she ever saw.

The realization sours his expression, it makes him not trust himself, not wanna stay, it makes him wish Bill got upstairs quicker and caught him in your bedroom. It makes him feel sick to remember the things he's done to you, how at the time it felt like intimacy and love, when in reality he should've taken things much... much slower with you.

When his mind goes to Sarah his eyes start to well up, and he's unable to respond to your dad, who silently watches his inner turmoil.

"I don't want you to feel like you owe me this, Joel. You don't. You could have just let me die back there and come back here with a tragic story to tell them. I'm the one in debt with you, but I'm willing to trust you to take care of things, if you choose to stay. I'll talk to her and Frank. You already have my yes." Your dad finishes, sinking Joel further into his misery.

"Thank you, I'll think about what you said." Joel manages to say, nodding and turning back to his bedroom. "Oh." His voice breaks when he turns back to your dad. "The guns are downstairs, on the dinner table." He says, not able to look Bill in the eyes.

"Oh yeah, sure, hum... thank you. But I was thinking you could keep them? At least until tomorrow." He says.

"Why?" Joel asks, his eyes meeting Bill's.

"Well, the last time I went hunting was before you arrived, and there's not a lot left for all of us. So I was thinking we could go hunting tomorrow morning." Bill invites him, the shyest smile appearing on his face. "I mean, I know you got an hell of an aim." He chuckles softly.

"Yeah, sure." Joel agrees, ready to help. "We'll go." He offers your dad a faint smile before going into his bedroom.

He goes to his bathroom, removing his clothes while he thinks about your dad's proposal.

This is what he wanted. To stay. To stay with you. He doesn't see it as a burden, no. He has Bill's green light to move in, to be part of your life. But he knows he only has it because your dad doesn't know about anything.

The fact that he invited him to move in just proves how oblivious Bill is to everything that's happened between you two. How well you kept it a secret, after all.

But he also knows that it only has to be a secret because he moved too fast. Because he couldn't battle his own desires, and now he can't tell your dad the truth without breaking his trust completely.

He turns on the shower, hoping the warm water will help clear his mind.

When you're done showering you hang your new lingerie around your bathroom and lock the door, knowing it's the only room in the house your dad doesn't have the key to.

You go downstairs to Frank's studio, where he's using the last few minutes of sunlight to work on the base for Sarah's painting.

"It looks amazing already." You smile, kissing the top of his head.

You sit outside his studio, taking the guitar, and you notice him looking at you with a smile.

You start playing the guitar, confidently touching the strings when you see Joel walking in, his hair slicked back, it's wetness shinning under the sunset light.

He sits besides you and starts laughing softly.

"What?" You laugh back. "Is it too horrible?"

"No — laughs — no, baby, it's not." He says, barely holding his smile, even after letting the nickname slip. "It's just a bit... out of tune." He says softly, choking back his laughter.

"Oh, THANK GOD!" Frank playfully yells.

"Dad!" You yell back, laughing, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Oh, my dove, I'm so sorry, but it was a tough afternoon." He says laughing, and Joel looks back at you, his eyes scrunching with his smile.

"Can I?" Joel asks softly, asking for the guitar.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Or my dad might throw himself into the fence or a trap." You playfully pretend to be sad.

"Uh! I never said that out loud!" Frank gasps, defending himself, sounding overly offended, and you shoot him a playfully angry look.

You hand Joel the guitar, and he starts adjusting the things at the top of it while you curiously watch it over his shoulder.

"This is where you tune it." He says, quickly taking his eyes off the instrument and looking back at you, your faces accidentally almost touching.

"And how do I know it's good enough?" You ask, pulling back a bit.

"When it's not sounding like that anymore." Frank says, his voice cut by his own laughter.

"DAaAD!" You yell again, laughing, feeling your cheeks in fire.

"Frank leave her alone!" Bill says when he passes by, sounding like a dad scolding his child for messing with their sibling.

"You don't even know what's going on!" Frank protests.

"Well, I know you're bothering her." Bill says, giving you a gentle kiss at the top of your head before leaving, his smile clear in his voice.

"I'm sorry, love, I'll stop." Frank tells you, getting up and coming to kiss the top of your head too before following Bill. "I always knew she was your favorite." He playfully tells Bill.

"You'll get the hang of it with time." Joel says, gaining back your attention after your parents disappear. "But also... It won't sound as bad as it did just now." He laughs, and you playfully kick his leg.

"Stop it." You laugh, looking at the small book he got you, searching for the part about getting the guitar ready.

He finishes adjusting it and starts playing a slow and mellow melody, and you recognize it as the one of the songs you played on the piano the first night he's spent with you.

"You already knew it?" You ask, looking at him with a smile.

"It keeps playing in my mind. Everytime I think about that night." He whispers with an even softer smile, and you shy away from his eyes. "Did we ever... Cross a line, you think?" He asks softly, his gaze falling, and you look back at him, frowning.

"Why?" You ask, confused.

"Do you think?" He insists, his tone serious.

"No. We only did what we both wanted to do. No lines to be crossed." You reassure him confidently.

"You promise you'll say if we ever do?" He asks, his eyes reddening.

"I promise." You respond with an empathetic smile. "But I know you won't ever make me feel bad." You whisper tenderly next to his ear, touching your cheek to his shoulder.

"Thank you." He smiles at you, pressing his head tenderly against yours. "I wanna show you a song." He says, changing the chords he's playing on the guitar.

An even mellower and softer melody occupies the room, his fingers skillfully working through the chords. He closes his eyes and you see a tear falling down his cheek.

You gently wipe it away. "What's so special about this one?" You whisper softly.

"I used to play it for Sarah." He says, his eyes still closed. "She loved it... She was almost learning it when..." He stops himself, his voice breaking, and you caress his back.

"It's ok." You whisper. "It's ok if you want to cry about it, I'm here with you." You say softly, and he looks at you, his eyes wet and a faint but honest smile in his lips.

He continues playing the melody, and you quietly start humming it. "She also liked to hum along with it... She said it helped her memorize the chords." He says, looking down at you, his smile slightly wider.

You stop humming instantly, your eyes wide. "I'm sorry... I... I didn't know." You say, feeling bad for invading their memory.

"No, it's fine. She'd love to sing along to it with you." He says, his voice lower and deeper, emotion dripping from it.

You smile. "Thank you, I know we'd have a lot of fun together. The three of us." You say, your eyes locked on his, and they water even more at your words.

"We would." He smiles softly. "She'd love you." He says, his voice shaking with the thought of having you and Sarah by his side. Of experiencing all those loves at the same time, the paternal love he has for her and the romantic, passionate love he feels for you.

You take your camera, standing in front of him and taking a picture of him playing the guitar.

"Stop that." He chuckles.

"But you look so good playing it." You playfully defend yourself, looking at the photo and smiling.

"You know, there's one thing your dad never got you, and it shows." He says, and you tilt your head. "Glasses." He laughs.

"Oh, yeah, so I could see your beauty even better." You smile, sitting back by his side, scooting closer to him and turning the camera to the two of you. "C'mon, say cheese." You smile widely, taking the picture.

Your face softens when you see the photo: You're with your wide and typical smile, and Joel's looking adoringly down at you, his eyes scrunched and a silly smile on his lips.

You look up at him, hoping he can see in your eyes all of the things you're still not sure you can tell him. Hoping he can read and understand all the feelings you're still learning how to feel, all the new and overwhelming sensations he's bringing into your life.

And he hopes you can see the little beam of light your presence brings to him. How you're the only one that got close to making him feel happy again.

The only one that makes him believe that he can genuinely feel happy and fulfilled again.

...

Not long after he followed Bill, Frank calls the two of you to have dinner, and you sit across from each other at the table.

You all eat while talking about all the renovations you're gonna do on the facades, on your house. It feels good to see your dads excited again, to see the smile on Joel's face.

And you think to yourself that this is what life should feel like. This is what it will feel like, after you and Joel talk to your dad and he lets Joel stay.

This.

The happy and satisfied smiles of your parents, Joel's feet caressing yours under the table. Soon Joel shamelessly displaying his affection to you.

You're meant to feel all these loves, from your parents and your lover. And hopefully you're on the right way to have them.

After dinner you say goodnight to your parents and discreetly call Joel to your bedroom.

"Baby?" He calls you a few minutes later, after locking the door, confused by not seeing you in your bed. You open your bathroom door, wearing a lingerie set he got you and a thin, silky robe that hugs your body perfectly.

"Hi, Joel." You smile, walking towards him, feeling confident and womanly in the outfit, especially with the way his eyes are roaming around your figure, his chest raising and falling heavily.

But when you reach him he looks at your face and his eyebrows glue together.

"Baby... Take this off." He says, his voice low and husky. And you undo the robe's tie, but he holds your hand. "No, baby... Get changed. In the bathroom. Put your pajamas on." He says, kissing your forehead and going to sit on your bed.

"Ok." You agree, confused, going to your bathroom and putting your pajamas on. A set with a t-shirt and pants.

You get changed and come back to bed, sitting by his side. "You didn't like it?" You ask, feeling insecure after his reaction.

"No! No, baby, it's not that, I... I loved it, you looked beautiful." He smiles weakly at you. And you notice a glint in his eyes that's only ever there when you talk about Sarah.

"Are you alright?" You whisper, scooting closer to him, your hand going to his lower back.

He nods.

"Have you tried any of the clothes I brought you?" He changes the subject, turning a little so he's almost facing you and tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear.

"Not yet. They're still wet." You say, gently brushing away some food crumbs from his shirt, making his heart soften a bit because of how tender and small the gesture is.

This is what he loves about you. Your small and caring gestures that remind him that you're there, that you care for him. Like how you always softly pinch his arm or his side whenever you walk past him.

Reminding him he has you now.

"Did you like the new clothes?" He smiles, cupping your face, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"Uhum. I loved them." You smile sweetly, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes and just feeling his touch for a few seconds. "Joel?" You whisper, your eyes still closed.

"Hmm?" He responds gently, his soft gaze locked on your face.

"Can we lay down a bit?" You ask, feeling your cheeks warm up under his touch, and you find a silly smile on his lips when you open your eyes.

"Alright." He agrees softly. "Just for a bit. I gotta wake up early tomorrow." He says before kicking his boots away and laying on your bed. You crawl on top of him, laying on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You two just lay together for a few minutes, allowing your breathings to sync and enjoying each other's warmth, all of your hands busy tenderly caressing each other's skin.

You love this. You love having someone to hold, someone to hold you. You used to always snuggle with your dads, but eventually you'd all go to bed and you'd stay alone, somehow never feeling warm even with layers and layers of blankets suffocating you. You love having Joel like this.

And Joel loves it too. To have someone to silently share this much with, to feel this comfortable and this vulnerable with. Someone to look after, to protect, to make him feel like he's not just waiting for time to pass, but that he has a reason to continue. A reason to leave the QZ, a reason to try again and do things right, to talk to your dad the next morning, explain to him that he has feelings for you, but that he wants him to know it all before moving forward, before accepting to move in. Before touching you again.

A reason to try and make it work, even though his chances are almost nonexistent.

"What are you gonna do tomorrow morning?" You curiously ask.

"Huh?" He asks, furrowing his brows.

"You said you can't stay for too long because you gotta wake up early." You explain, playing mindlessly with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh, yeah. Your dad called me to go hunting tomorrow morning." He says, a small smile on his lips.

"Really?" You ask. Your dad takes hunting very seriously, and he'd never take someone he doesn't trust with him.

"Uhum." He says. "At first light."

"How can you always wake up in time? I can never do it, he always has to wake me up when we go hunting." You say, and he pulls your hair away from the side of your face, gently caressing it and your scalp.

"You get used to it eventually. And I never sleep well anyway, so I'm always just half asleep. The sun comes in and it wakes me up." He explains.

"Well, but you used to always be late." You almost giggle and he looks down at you, frowning. "You got a watch for your birthday." You explain, smiling, and he looks at it.

"Yeah." He chuckles. "I actually already had it, Sarah just fixed it for me." He smiles. "I was always home later than I said I'd be." He says, his smile souring. "I... I'd never spend enough time with her, I'd always leave the house early with her, when she went to school, and come back much later than her." He says.

"But you were working, weren't you?" You ask, confused by his guilty tone.

"I was." He says. "But... It's ok, I don't wanna talk about it." He smiles softly.

"Are you sure? It feels like you never talk about her." You say gently, trying not to push his boundaries.

"Talking ain't gonna bring her back, baby. It's just gonna remind me of everything I did wrong to her." He says, a hint of bitterness and shame in his voice.

"Don't you wanna talk about all the good things you did to her?" You suggest, noticing how much he has bottled up about his life before the outbreak. About how much he seems to focus on what he did wrong, what he lost.

"The only good things I did for her was love her like I've never loved anyone before and provide for her." He says. "And not even the providing part I did right."

"What do you mean?" You ask, looking up at him, your stomach touching his as you gently caress his hair, your chin resting on his chest.

"She asked me for two things on my birthday. Three actually. Pancakes for breakfast, and I forgot to buy the pancake mix. A cake, and I forgot to buy it. And for me to come home early, and work kept me busy until late." He says, his eyes focused on the roof. "Those were the three last things she ever asked me for, and I didn't do any of them." You see his eyes glisten.

"But you didn't do any of them on purpose. And you didn't know it was your last day with her." You comfort him. "And if you think about it... You were protecting her in a way." You say, and he looks down at you, puzzled. "The fungus got spread through flour and sugar, didn't it? The pancake mix and the cake could've been contaminated." You say, and he frowns, looking back up.

Then he chuckles, his eyes welling up.

"I've never looked at it that way." He says, and you smile, believing that he's happy with the new perspective. "I was better at protecting her by accident than when I actually needed to." He says, a single tear falling from his eye.

"Why?" You whisper, your smile melting, and he frowns, all the thoughts, guilt and shame he's felt all day bubbling up along with the all the feelings he carries from Sarah's death.

"I... I couldn't move, I... I shouldn't have..." He starts, tears starting to flow down his cheeks, his chest moving frantically with his crying, his body shaking, his eyes wide and fixated on a single spot on the ceiling. "I told him... I... But she wasn't infected." He stutters between heavy breaths.

You get off him, lying sideways by his side and pulling his head to your chest, hugging him.

"Hey... Let's take it slow... Don't do this to yourself." You say softly, trying to soothe him, running your hands through his hair and caressing his back.

He snuggles close to you, his head pressed against your chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you, like he's found the comfort he so desperately needed.

You stay silent until his breathing steadies, shushing and tenderly keeping him tightly into your arms.

"She..." He starts after a few minutes. "She hurt her ankle when we were running away from an infected. I... I told the guard she was hurt, but not infected. She wasn't infected." He says, drenching your pajamas shirt, and your own eyes start watering. "I shouldn't have said she was hurt... I... The way I was holding her, I was almost using her a shield." He says, his voice barely intelligible as his grip on you tightens almost painfully.

"But you weren't doing it on purpose, Joel. You'd never do that." You reassure him, seeing the guilt and shame he feels from it.

"I was better at getting her killed than at killing myself." He cries, and you caress his hair, noticing the scar on his forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Joel." You really are. It hurts to imagine how much he's suffered. The scar you're caressing in his forehead proof of just how much.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me, angel." He says, almost bitterly, and you brush it off, knowing this is a complex topic for him.

"Joel... — deep breath — I don't understand all the feelings I feel for you yet. A lot of them are still so new to me." You say. "But I feel so much for you. And I am sorry for you. You didn't deserve to go through any of this." You say, gently but firmly, making it clear to him that you're not gonna let him push you away.

And there goes his walls again.

The walls he built so fast and spent so long fortifying, the walls you somehow crumble so easily, so effortlessly. He still doesn't understand it; how you can do it every time, how easily you can make him open up to you.

How he, that's so used to provide and protect everyone, also has the need to feel protected, to feel safe in someone's arms. In your arms.

"She was lucky to have you." You reassure him softly, caressing his hair, looking into his vulnerable and big brown eyes.

"No, she wasn't." He says, looking away from you, burying his face on your chest shamefully.

"She was." You insist.

"I couldn't even protect her... How could she be lucky?" He almost snarls, his tone new to you, making you flinch, his eyes cold and blank all over again.

Breath, take it slow, it's not personal. He's just not used to talk about this.

"She had you, and now I have you too, and I'm lucky to have you." You say, trying to keep your tone soft and gentle.

"You're not lucky to have me, baby." He says, his crying becoming more heartfelt, more intense.

"Of course I am, Joel... You make me feel special, and good. In a way I've never felt before. My dads love me, but they're supposed to. Not you. You decided to love me. You didn't have to." You smile down at him, tenderly wiping his tears away while a few of your own stream down your cheeks.

"No, baby, no." He says, shaking his head. "You're... I should never have done any of the things I did to you." He cries, his tone shameful and apologetic.

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying not to get hurt by the regret in his words.

"Baby you're... You're a kid... I shouldn't have even looked at you the way I did." He says. "You're younger than Sarah would be today—" His crying cuts his words.

"No, Joel, no.... don't do this to me, please." You cry, for the first time being affected by his words. "You're the first person I've ever met that treated me like an adult. I don't want you to talk to me like I'm a child." You say, begging him to see you as a woman, not as a sheltered and defenseless girl.

"I should have taken it slow... I shouldn't have lied to your parents, I... I can't even look at Bill. I feel like I've crossed the one line I couldn't." He says.

"Joel, if it depended on my dad I'd never do anything. I wouldn't even leave this house! He gets worried when I go to the crops by myself, and I never leave these fences." You say. "You never did anything I didn't want you to do." You reassure him.

"But what if you don't know what you want, baby?" He asks, hugging you tighter. "What if you only see me the way you do because I was the first man to walk through those gates?" He asks you, letting his fears and guilt take over.

"Joel, you make me happy... You make me happy in a way I haven't felt in a long time." I cry. "My life was just do my chores, cook and... And nothing else. You make me want to do more, you make me want to take care of you, to get out of my bed. You're good for me." You say. "I've never felt this way." You say, honesty coating your words.

"And you make me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again, baby. You make me feel like I'm not just waiting for my time to come... Like I have a purpose again. I wanna keep you happy, safe, taken care of." He smiles, squeezing you even tighter. "I wanna go out and look for the things you want, I wanna hunt so I know you're well fed, I wanna hold you at night so I know you've slept well..." He says, his eyes once again soft and warm, a vulnerability you've never seen in them before.

"I want you to stay here, Joel. With me." You whisper, tears flowing down your cheeks.

"You know I can't sleep here, baby." He smiles gently.

"No... I don't mean just right now. I mean... Stay here with me." You say. "I know it's selfish, but I want you to stay." You cry.

"Baby..." He says, unsure if he should tell you about the conversation he had with your dad.

"I know... I know. Just stay here right now, for a little bit more." You not wanting to think about the day he has to go back to the QZ.

He smiles, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

"Of course, baby. I'll stay for a bit." He says, snuggling against your chest, and you caress his hair, soothing him.

"Thank you for letting me in." You whisper.

"You gave me no choice." He smiles. "You made it impossible to not wanna let you in, baby." He whispers back.

"I'm sorry, then." You giggle, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Thank you for being so... You." He smiles, his gaze going from your eyes to your lips, and you kiss his lips lightly, moaning when he licks them, deepening the kiss.

He chuckles and pulls back, his thumb caressing your back.

"We're gonna do this right this time." He says firmly yet gently. "I'm gonna talk to your dad. We're gonna go on a hunt early tomorrow, and I'm gonna talk to him."

"You are?" You ask, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice and eyes.

"I will. At least if he kills me I'm gonna be far from here and you won't see it." He chuckles, and you laugh.

"Oh, God, don't even joke with that." You laugh, a genuine concern behind your smile as you hug him tighter.

"We're gonna do it right." He reaffirms. "We're not gonna do anything else until your dad knows about us." He says. "But you gotta promise me you're gonna keep what already happened between us a secret." He says, looking deep into your eyes.

"I promise." You smile. "It's gonna be like nothing happened."

"My good girl." He smiles, kissing your neck, his right hand squeezing your hip teasingly.

"Hmmm... Joel..." You moan at his words and his touch. "Don't make this harder than it has to be." You say, your hips instinctively rolling against him.

"Alright." He agrees, his hand going back to your upper back, pressing you against him. "I mean it. We're gonna go slow, make this special to you." He smiles.

"You already make everything special." You smile, pulling his hair back and touching your lips to his forehead, gently caressing his scalp with your whole hand and your fingers.

You two lay into each other's embrace. Uncertainty and concern battling with excitement and hope for what's to come, for how your dad's gonna react, for what life's gonna be like with each other.

And under each other's warmth you both fall asleep. Your best sleep in long time. Joel's most peaceful night since... ever.

A comfortable slumber that's interrupted only by Joel's heavy breathing underneath you and a warm sunlight coating your bedroom.

A shadow suddenly blocks the sunlight, and you sleepily open your eyes, seeing what... Or who... Is blocking it.

Fuck.

I'm so sorry for this, besties. The next chapter is the last official one for this series, the bomb is ticking.

Please don't forget to tell me your thoughts, the second most fun after writing is reading what y'all have to say about it.

Ily, have the best day 🩷🩷🫶🏻

[cowgurrrl]

Getting Older

Author’s note: FUCK IT WE’RE TALKING ABOUT TOMMY’Y GRIEF

Summary: "I love my little brother so much. I wish I could take back the years I spent treating him like I didn't." aka Joel and Tommy Talk [1.5k]

Warnings: discussions of deployment/Army, mentions of Sarah and Tess, pregnancy, deceased parent, learning to love someone even when you can't recognize them anymore

The brothers had been avoiding the topic pretty much since Joel learned of Maria. They were close once. Of course, they were. Joel let Tommy live in his home, work with him, and help him raise his daughter once he came back from Afghanistan. When the nightmares got bad, Joel was there in his stoic, big brother way to ask about therapists and support groups for veterans. When Joel didn't have enough money to buy Sarah a bike for her birthday despite scraping together pennies and dimes for months, Tommy miraculously came up with it after a few rounds of Texas Hold' Em at the local bar. They were a team. Had been since their mom died. 

But twenty years of a world ruled by fungus is enough to break any bond. The first few weeks in Jackson are rough. Not only are Joel and Ellie recovering from their journey, but Jackson offered up a whole new world of pain that Joel didn't even know existed. Kids Sarah's age running around without a care in the world. His baby brother suddenly no longer a baby anymore but a husband and a father-to-be. The little graveyard a little further away with lovingly etched headstones that make his stomach turn when he thinks about the river his little girl died next to. Couples walking the street hand-in-hand, and he knows Tess hated PDA, but maybe she would've made an exception. You don't realize how big a bed can be when it's suddenly empty for the first time in a decade. They struggle. All of them. There is no one in this little fucked up family that goes untouched by the hurt. 

It takes a month before Joel invites Tommy and Maria over to their house for dinner. Joel does his best to make a niceish dinner and even buys freshly cut flowers from the market. Ellie teases him about it, and he teases her back, but deep down, he just wants everything to be okay again. Normal. Tommy and Maria arrive with a wave of polite smiles and offerings of help, which Joel refuses like any good host. He finishes dinner while Ellie tells her aunt and uncle about school and her new friends. It's quaint when they sit down at the table together. If you squint, you could almost believe this is how it's always been. 

They shoot the shit and tell stories and enjoy the meal Joel lovingly made for them. Joel even asks about the pregnancy, which makes his insides clench like a vice grip, but he doesn't let it show. Maria gives surface details: how far along she is, how she's feeling, how the nursery's coming along. He's silently grateful they don't talk about names or clothes. He'd always saved Sarah's baby clothes in little boxes in the attic. "Just in case," he told himself. Whether it was in the event of a sibling for Sarah or a cousin, he never got to find out. Now he wonders what became of the boxes of pastel pinks and yellows somewhere in Austin. 

When Maria yawns and announces she's tired, Tommy offers to take her home. She refuses and looks at Ellie. "I've got some more clothes for you back at the house. Wanna come look at them with me?" She asks. Ellie looks to Joel for permission or maybe reassurance that she's safe to go with Maria. He nods and picks up her empty plate. "You better get a move on." He urges, and just like that, they're out the door and talking like they've known each other forever. Joel and Tommy collect the dirty plates and wash them in the sink side by side, a tradition their mother instilled in them so young they can barely remember a time when they didn't do it. Tommy's the first one to break the silence.

"She's a good kid." He says, testing the waters, and Joel nods. 

"Most of the time," Joel says, laughing to himself. "She's nothin' like Sarah." It's the first time they've talked about her. Really talked about her for a long time. Tommy freezes like he's trying to figure out what to say or do, but Joel continues. "They're both smart and funny and strong. I think they woulda even been friends. But Ellie…" he trails off. "Ellie's just different. A pain in the ass, sure, but different." He shrugs as he puts a cup face down to dry on the towel next to the sink. "And your little one'll be different, too."

"Joel-" 

"I know you're gonna wanna compare them to Sarah 'cause that's what I did, but it don't work like that. Every kid's different. You just gotta figure out how. You gotta give 'em a chance to show you who they are." He continues. Tommy knows not to interrupt him when he gets on a soapbox like this. So, just like he did when they were kids, he stays quiet and follows his big brother's lead. "I'm happy for you. I really am, and not 'cause I'm forcin' it or anything. I always knew you were gonna be a good dad, and I know it now."

"But?" Tommy asks, and Joel shakes his head. 

"No 'but.' I'm just thinkin'." 

"'Bout what?"

"Your wife kinda scares me," Joel admits, making Tommy laugh. The sound is reminiscent of summer days spent roughhousing in the backyard or playing with little green Army men in the kitchen while their big chocolate lab, Arlo, lay on the cool tile nearby. 

"Yeah, me too," Tommy says, and now it's Joel's turn for childhood giggling. When the laughter dies down, Joel turns and looks at his brother fully. If he looks past the beard and the long hair, he can almost see the eighteen-year-old he dropped off at boot camp all those years ago. It pushes on an ache in his heart, and maybe that's what prompts him to finally say what he's been dodging this whole time.

"I wish I was there," he mumbles. "Your wedding." The weight of the admission hits Tommy square in the shoulders, and he clears his throat. 

"Me too." 

"Was it… I mean, was it nice? Did you get all fancy or anythin'?" He asks, and Tommy chuckles. 

"Yeah, it was nice. Borrowed a suit that was a little too big, and Maria wore a dress that was a little too old, and we got married down at the courthouse few years ago. I've got a few pictures if you wanna see 'em." Tommy smiles, and Joel does too, and for a second, they're not men beaten down by wars and death. They're two little boys with missing teeth and red popsicle staining their mouths. 

"That's nice," Joel nods. "You deserve nice. I want you to have nice. Always did." The words drown out the dripping sink and the wind blowing through the trees and shaking leaves against the windowpanes. They land somewhere deep in Tommy's stomach, where he stored all emotion and grief down after that September night when he dragged Joel away from Sarah because he was being a "fuckin' idiot." They don't fully relieve him of what he feels is his share of the blame for how things happened, for what happened to Sarah, but they made it a little less heavy. Tommy didn't realize tears had sprung to his eyes until Joel sucked his teeth and pulled him into his chest like he did when Tommy scraped his knees, falling off his bike in second grade. 

"I love you. I'm sorry I acted like I didn't for so long." Joel whispers, his own tears threatening his lash line, and Tommy tightly wraps his arms around his big brother. 

"Love you too," Tommy says, removing a stone from the pile on Joel's shoulders. "Thanks for comin' back for me."

"I'll always come back for you. You're my brother."

Not a soldier. Not a hunter, a raider, or a smuggler. Not even a patrolman. A brother. It's been a long time since Thomas Miller has been allowed to only be a brother. He thinks he likes it. He thinks he can get used to it. He thinks there will never be a day after this one where he doesn't include brother in his list of titles because, for once, he's proud to be Joel's brother, and he will be until the day he dies. 

When they were little, and they used to fight over stupid things like bikes and what music to play in the car, their mama would look at them in the rearview mirror and raise her eyebrows in the exact way Joel is prone to doing and shake her head. "Now you two better settle it 'fore I settle it for you," she'd scold. "Y'all are gonna have to learn to live with one another 'cause I'm not gonna have all this fightin' all the time. Y'all are brothers, and that's gotta count for something." Tommy thinks he can hear his mother's voice in his head as they cry together for the first time in decades. He thinks she'd be happy with the way they turned out. He thinks she'd be proud of them for coming back together in this way.

They're brothers, after all. That's gotta count for something. 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[yanderes-galore]

Oh . My bad, I apologize.

Maybe then just Platonic Yandere!Joel Miller?

It's alright ^^ I hope you still like the concept! I have not finished The Last of Us Part 1 yet so I kept it general.

He is genuinely dad material.

Minor The Last of Us Part 1 spoilers

Yandere! Platonic! Joel Miller Concept

(The Last of Us Part 1 - Game)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective dad Joel, Slight trust issues, Paranoia, He's overprotective of you and Ellie, Murder, Violent, Fear of losing a child, Joel's still sort of grieving.

The dynamic between Joel and darling in this would be like how he is with Ellie.

Even at the age of 18 you're still inexperienced with how the world works now.

Joel has almost seen all this dangerous world has to offer.

He's killed, he's stolen, he's developed a reputation in this world filled with hunters and human fungus.

He used to be such a caring father...

Now Joel's been bred into a monster.

Joel could've met you some time after when he had found Ellie.

By this point he's still trying to get used to essentially parenting Ellie.

The moment he finds you he dreads parenting another...

Sure, you're a young adult and can care for yourself for the most part...

Yet you're clumsy and your skills aren't perfected.

It'll take time before Joel fully accepts you into the little pair he has.

He already thinks keeping Ellie around puts him in danger already.

Despite his hesitance to aiding you, Ellie seems to trust you enough.

Joel's trust for you only grows when you prove you can provide and take care of yourself.

Essentially, prove you won't get everyone killed and he adopts you into the group.

It's just Joel and his two kids now.

Joel begins to see you and Ellie as his new family in this twisted world.

After all... he hasn't got much left in this world after the death of Sarah and Tess.

When Joel starts to accept you as a companion you'll start noticing his odd behavior.

Joel acts like a caring and overprotective dad towards you.

He does everything he can to keep you and Ellie safe.

Joel doesn't flinch at the idea of violence or murder to keep you safe.

Ellie can vouch that Joel has bashed in the skulls of zombies and hunters alike to protect her.

The same would be for you, too.

Something you'll notice is Joel will treat you like you can't take care of yourself at times.

He ends you treating you like you're younger than you are.

Probably due to taking care of Sarah and Ellie.

This leads to arguments between you and Joel.

Often you'll end up yelling at each other for one thing or another.

He blames you still sort of being a teen.

Despite this Joel still tries to be like a dad to you.

Ellie sees you like an older sibling in the group and doesn't like it when Joel starts fights with you.

He claims his motives are to protect you.

Yet it comes off as suffocating due to him having a fear of losing you.

There's so much danger in this infected world.

You could get shot by hunter groups... or be infected by cordyceps spores....

Joel doesn't like the idea of losing you once he's attached to you.

Which is exactly why he was scared to be attached to you in the first place.

Even if you've seen the murder and violence Joel commits to protect you and Ellie, he hates it when you see it.

Joel tends to put you in charge of Ellie while he deals with the danger.

Joel shows he cares for the both of you during downtime.

When you're hiding in an abandoned house to rest, Joel pulls you into his chest and hugs you.

Sometimes Ellie joins while Joel just... holds you to his body.

He wonders if Sarah would've acted like you when she got older.

A lot of Joel's platonic yandere behavior is due to him losing Sarah.

He can't bare to lose another child, especially since he technically has two now.

There's always a nagging voice within Joel while he survives alongside you and Ellie.

It mocks him when walking through spore clouds with his mask on...

It lectures him whenever he defends you from hunters...

The voice tells him he isn't capable enough to defend you or Ellie.

It tells him he'll fail.

Joel's determined to prove his anxiety wrong...

He'll be a good dad to you both and protect you... even if it means you'll despise him in the process. Nothing's going to come between him and his new family.

[jessicawhitlys]

5.Trying to keep quiet + tessjoel pls pls plssss

"Baby, you gotta keep quiet," Joel grunts in Tess's ear as he slips his hand over his wife's mouth, thrusting into her from behind.

They'd tumbled into bed after everyone else was asleep, staying up to finish a movie, glad that his parents had handled bedtime for the girls, and perhaps it had been the wine, perhaps the alone time- but they'd been peeling each other's clothes off the moment the door to the bedroom was shut.

"Gonna wake the girls," he groans as her inner muscles flutter around him before clamping down, and she bites at his hand. The room next door housed both their daughters, aged three and thirteen months, and neither wanted them awake, given how hard it was to get them back to sleep.

They were spending the week at his parents for Sarah's third birthday, and Elena and Fred were pulling out all the stops for their first grandbaby's birthday week. Which meant they happily took the bedtime shift, much to Tess and Joel's delight.

"I'm more worried- fuck, Joel- worried about your dad hearing us. Again," Tess pants, tightening around him and digging her nails into the back of his hand where he gripped her hip tightly. Joel dug his head between her shoulder blades, groaning lowly.

"Christ, darlin', don't remind me," he says, pulling a snorting laugh from his wife as he thrusts his hips into her, hitting a spot that has her moaning once more. "You close?"

She nods, eyes sinking shut, and it doesn't take much to have her coming in shallow pants, dragging him over the edge with her as he spilled inside her. A large palm came up to cup her breast, squeezing firmly, and Tess shuddered against Joel, pleasure causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh.

Once they're cleaned up and dressed in pjs, they snuggled together under the covers and Joel planted a kiss to Tess's shoulder.

"I think Ellie's awake," she murmured, listening to the wall. "I can hear her gigglin' in there. She might need'ta nurse a bit to get back to sleep."

"Hm, ain't got the goods for that, darlin'," he replies, and Tess flips him off.

"Keep the bed warm for me, cowboy," she says, pecking his lips, and Joel snuggles into his pillow.

"Always, honey."

[superpaperrobloxhcs]

kills you with banland headcanon (i dont understand this game. actually)

the way time in banland passes is... unnatural to say the least. If your a prisoner or being held there you never age physically. (ronzanda and tretone tess and whoever else was stuck there? yea they didnt age all that much/ really really slowly).

If you hang around it too long (pink i as an example) you age slower than if you were anywhere else :)

this is my way of solving the fact that claire doesn't know who ronzanda is despite the fact that she seemed to be fairly feared back in the day (or that couldve been pink i)

oh boy a new headcaAAAUAUAUUGHGUGHGUHGHUGHUGUHGHU IM DEAD

[final-girl96]

Ageless Secrets Chapter Three

May 2010

Yn

Joel and I were on the way to some neighborhood that had the population of two people. I was honestly surprised when Tess asked me to go for her since something came up with another person they trade with. She had been talking to some guy on the radio named Frank. He and his husband Bill lived a few hours away from the Boston QZ by car. I was more surprised when Joel didn't protest about me going with them. He's been ignoring me for damn near a year now.

He only speaks to me in short clipped words. It's been like that since that one night he had come to check in on her and they were drinking and listening to music. Since she was dancing in his lap with his hands on her hips. Tommy had interrupted them when he knocked on the door. After that shit had shifted so damn much. Tommy went off and joined the fireflies. The fireflies were some stupid resistance, they were against FEDRA.

And look, FEDRA fucking sucks. If you're found guilty of anything you're hung in front of everyone. They think they can do and have whatever and whoever they want. I've had the same FEDRA asshole hitting on me every time he sees me since the day we got to the QZ. Joel and Tess kept growing closer and closer; they had more in common. According to Tommy, Joel had lost his daughter, Sarah, on the first day of the outbreak. So they had that in common, losing a child.

They knew each other's pain. They were both hard asses too. Tess spent more time at Joel's place than she did ours. It drove me crazy thinking about what they were doing, even though I didn't want to think about what that could be. I thought maybe Joel had been starting to loosen up more around me that one night. I thought maybe he would get past the age gap when his hands found my hips. I had felt just how much he wanted me before Tommy ruined it all. Now Joel barely looked at me.

I had my headphones on as we walked through the destroyed city, listening to Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Eurythmics. I had the right side pushed back off my ear and had the volume really low so I could still hear. After seven years the city was a total disaster zone. In the beginning when the infected got out of control FEDRA bombed the city to try and help contain them. Builds were leaning to the side, almost touching each other. Part of the streets were completely gone and we had to go around.

I was doing more dancing than walking. I had decided that it was better to just be myself and give very few fucks if any at all. Just because the world changed and Somehow even more shitty than it was before doesn't mean I can't enjoy life. I made sure to watch my steps and where I was going. Made sure that I wasn't too loud. I had a knife and my gun on my belt. We were out of the city; there wasn't anything around us.

I had rewound my tape to play Sweet Dreams over again. It just gave me energy and motivation. I turned the volume up just a little bit; not too loud. I could still hear what was going on around me. I heard Joel let out a frustrated sigh. He was definitely annoyed by my high energy. “Will you knock it the hell off!” He hissed.

I turned around, walking backwards, raised my arms out in front of me and held up both my middle fingers while singing along to the song. “Live a little, Joel! Maybe then you would have such a gigantic tree trunk shoved up your ass!” I gave him a curt smile and turned back around. “You're going to get yourself killed one day!” He said from behind me. I just shrugged, “Everyone dies, Joel!” Just then Pour Some Sugar On Me came on. Of course it did, I had my mixtape I took forever to make in my player.

I pulled my headphones fully on my ears and turned the volume up more. I turned my head to look at Joel and gave him a wicked smile. He had his usual bitch face on. Jaw set and brows narrowed inwards. Then I started to sing. We were in the middle of an empty street so I had all the freedom to dance all I wanted.

I twisted my body, swinging my hips, and running my hands up my sides, barely touching my body with my finger tips. I could hear Joel let out a low growl of annoyance. That only made me smile wider. There was nothing more that I loved doing than pissing him off. He was always so up tight, and although I understood why, I just couldn't stand it. He brought my damn mood down and I just wanted to enjoy life as long as possible.

When we got close to the neighborhood where Frank and Bill lived we stopped at least fifty-feet away. “Damn, a whole town to themselves. And look at this security!” I said. I pulled my headphones down to hang around my neck and turned the music off. A man with a gray beard and dark brown hair came walking towards the gate with a smile on his face. “Joel?” He asked, walking to put the code into the gate. Joel nodded his head, “Yeah, that's me.”

“I'm Frank. I talked to Tess over the radio. You must be her sister, yn. She told me you would be coming instead.” Another man followed behind him going on about, “You can't just assume these people are who they say they are.” Frank just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “This is Bill. Please excuse him, he's not much of a people person.” I hummed, “Sounds like someone I know,” I said, giving Joel a pointed look. Frank opened the gate and let us in.

Frank had showed us around the town while Bill worked on making lunch. “It was so nice meeting someone over the radio. Tess seems really nice. We could use some friends,” Frank said. “Is it just the two of you?” I asked. He nodded with a small hum. “Yeah, Bill took me in a few years ago. I fell into one of his traps.” He smiles fondly at the memory. “Well, this place is fucking amazing. It must be nice not having to have FEDRA telling you what to do all the time. Following your own rules.”

“It can get lonely. But we find things to do. We have the whole town so if there is anything you need just ask and we can trade for it. I'm sure there are things we can get you that you can't get or don't have and vice versa. But how about we head back. I'm sure lunch is ready and Joel, you and Bill can talk.”

We went back to the house where a small round table was set up. Whennwe sat down Bill had his gun out and on the table pointing towards Joel. Joel didn't seem bothered by it at all, he just made eye contact with Bill. “Will you please put that away. Yn and Joel are our guests.” Bill looked over at Frank, who gave him a stern look. Bill let out a heavy sigh and took it off the table. “This is really good. Thank you for having us,” I said to try and lighten the mood. “Thank you, yn.”

When we were getting ready to leave, Frank suggested an idea to me. “I was thinking that we could have a secret code for certain things. “I was thinking we could communicate through music.” I loved that idea, so I agreed right away. “Oh, my gosh, yes! I love music so that's perfect!” I said. Frank smiled and handed me a piece of paper. “I thought we could go with the sixties, seventies, and eighties.”

60s - Nothing New

70s - New Stalk

80s - X

“The sixties will be for if we haven't got anything new, seventies if we do, and the eighties if we're in trouble.” I nodded, taking the piece of paper, folding It, and putting it to the front pocket of my pack. “That's perfect. So easily hidden.” After we said our goodbyes and that we would talk soon, Joel and I headed back to the QZ.