ghostfanwriter

[ghostfanwriter]

🎀🧰 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟖 🧰🎀

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🎀 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Again!Reader

🧰 Setting: Lincoln. It is 2023 but Joel, Frank and Bill are as young as they were when they met in episode 3.

🎀 Synopsis: Your suffering was too much for your father to handle, so he decides to make you happy again.

🧰 Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut (no details for spoilers but... It's mouths everywhere and very graphic descriptions), softdom!Joel, Joel talking her through, a few descriptions of reader's hair being long.

🎀 Word count: Sixteen thousand....? (I wish I was joking, it is actually 16.5k, I can't control myself)

🧰 A/n: Finally it is here and finally you can read it and I'm sorry it took me so long, (also sorry it is so long and wordy) but I hope you cry and smile a lot!!! Thank you all so much for the support with this series all this time. I don't deserve you 🩷 I'm really happy with it and really proud of it. I hope it meets your expectations and I hope you feel it is a good way to give closure to the last chapter.

Comments, reblogs and all that sweet love are as always so, so appreciated. It makes my day to read all the kind and sweet ways in which you all relate to this story and how it resonates with all of you 🩷🧰🎀

"Does she need anything?" Joel asks, almost panting as he ran to the radio. Whatever it is. Your dad just has to say it and he's gonna go after it for you.

He hates every second it takes Bill to respond.

It is another sunny yet slightly chilly afternoon, the leaves in the trees begining to fall as summer comes to an end.

You're on your porch, practicing the part you remember of the song Joel told you he used to play for Sarah, when someone walks close to you. You look behind your shoulder, finding Frank with a wide smile on his face.

"Hi, dad... Is everything ok?" You ask, smiling softly at him, a smile that — as usually now — doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"I got you a gift." He says, and you carefully put the guitar beside your chair, looking curiously at your father. He hands you a medium sized canvas, and your temples tense when you see it.

The view from your bedroom window, except this time the weather isn't the focus of it, nor the reason why he painted it.

It's the house across the street. With fences around the large and grassy front yard, the sheep, the greenhouse in the back, and a simple, black shilhouete of a tall man. Of him.

You feel a pang of pain looking at the scene you know is never gonna happen. It's not like the painting of a sunny day, that you know will happen again after the rain ceases. It's something you'll never have, something — someone — you want, you need, and you just won't get to experience. Your eyes burn with a mixture of sadness and anger — a feeling you've never felt towards Frank before —, but you hide them from him, a single tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek.

"It's nothing compared to the drawing I did over the photo, but..." You joke, forcing a smile, mentioning the polaroid you took and drew on top of as you quickly dry your tear.

He nudges your arm playfully, sitting on the armrest of the chair you're seated on. "Guess I still have a lot to learn from you." He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Thank you, dad." You say, but you can't shake the confusion as to why your would dad gift you this.

So you could see it everyday as a reminder of what you could've had? Of what you're never gonna have?

About a week after you've hung that painting up on your bedroom wall — which is what you fall asleep to every night now, hoping to dream with it, with him—, you notice your dad working again on Sarah's painting.

"Why are you finishing it? It's too big for him to take it back with him." You say almost bitterly as you enter your dad's studio, startling him.

"Oh... I thought you were helping your dad in the garage." He takes a second before answering, seemingly nervous to see you. "You know I don't like unfinished work." He tries to sound nonchalant, a typical Frank smile on his lips. "Also maybe you could take a photo of it and gift it to him. Well... give, uhm, give it to Tess so she can give it to him." He corrects himself, his smile faltering. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that." Frank says, his face lightening up again with a smile packed with... Anticipation?

A glint of hope ignites inside you, combusting inside your chest, suddenly too big to fit inside you, but you kill it as quickly as it's born.

He's not coming back, don't nurture those roots any more.

"Alright." You sigh, your voice restrained. "Do you have anything here to throw away? Dad's gonna burn a few things from the garage, there's too much accumulating." You say.

Since the bonfire never happened — there wasn't really a mood for it —, the unusable wood and inflammable material started to pile up even more then they already were.

"A bonfire?" Frank's face twists with a mischievous smile, and you can't help but giggle.

"Not that dad will ever admit it." You smile softly, and he cheers.

He gives you a few broken or moldy frames, and you take them back to the middle of the street in front of your house, assembling them with the rest of the disposable wood your dad is gonna burn.

You sigh at the thought that this should've happened over two months ago. That Joel was supposed to help, to be there with you. To enjoy the bonfire, to play his guitar, to hold you afterwards...

Stop it. You promised you wouldn't cry over it.

You look at the house across the street and let out another sigh before drying a few tears from your cheeks and going to the garage to help your dad bring the rest of the things outside.

For the next two days your dad refuses to light up the bonfire, for whatever reason he didn't wanna tell you, and you didn't give it much thought.

"I think it's gonna rain." He said exasperatedly as an excuse while he covered the pile with a tarp, and you just went with it, despite the clear sky.

But today he came from a run for supplies with an urge to do it, and while he unpacked his truck, Frank took you inside to prepare a few pretty platters with some snacks for you all to eat at the bonfire.

"Now let's go get you ready." Frank says after you're done.

Your dad can't help but be performatic.

"Get ready?" You ask, confused, looking down at your baggy shirt and shorts, clothes you'd only ever wear on your period or when the weather was gloomy, and that since Joel went away became your everyday choices.

"Yes, sweetheart. Get ready. Take a shower, put on a nice dress, fix your hair and put some makeup on." Frank's face lightens up with his own words.

"You're still not over your doll phase, I see." You joke. Your dad always loved to dress you up.

You'd hop into the shower and come back to see your bed covered in different clothing options, and you were always amazed by how well he learned to do complex hairstyles just from teen and vintage magazines Bill found while outside. He'd dress you up in different outfits and you'd walk down the stairs in every single one of them while Bill judged them all.

Your family's very own little fashion show.

Needless to say, Bill always loved you in every single one of them, and your childhood is full of fond memories like that.

"I have a perfect doll at home, of course I'm gonna wanna dress her up." He kisses your temple.

"I don't... I'm not feeling it, dad. I'm sorry." You say quietly, looking down while you clean the counters, feeling bad for letting your father down on such a sweet tradition of the two of you, that always turns whatever you're doing into a special event.

And you can't help but remember how he helped you get ready the day Joel and Tess first arrived. How he said if they were to see you for some reason, you should be as pretty as you could. It makes you remember how Joel looked at you, how he smiled at you, how he said you were everything he thought he'd never see again.

"Hey, look at me." Frank says almost sternly, calling your attention, and you look up at him, your eyes watering already. "Darling... I want my daughter back!" He says, almost whining, frustration mixed with sadness making his voice shaky and his eyes watery.

"Dad..." You cry quietly, feeling bad. You know he is right. You can barely recognize yourself. But you feel powerless, you've just convinced yourself that there's no point.

He is not here to see your dresses, to smell your perfume, to praise your soft skin and hair. He's not here to see your smile.

"Honey, you gotta take care of yourself for you, even if he's not here anymore." Your dad can definitely read your mind. "Just like you always did. I want my sunny, giggly and happy girl back. I want you smiling, laughing, being silly. I want you in summer dresses and with your hair shinning, lipgloss on and smelling like our garden." He says, caressing your hair. "I know how happy all that makes you."

"I do miss it." You admit, with a pout and a smile, taking his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his and swinging your hands gently.

"Then c'mon, my silly doll. Let's get ready. Try to have fun. Even if it lasts for just a little bit." He smiles. "Then tomorrow we try again, fresh." He says, guiding you upstairs to your bedroom.

Frank went pale when he saw the pairs of lingerie Joel got you, but you told him what happened the night you put them on — that last night, and how Joel told you to get changed — and he sighed, telling you to put on a more... Simple one. You choose a romantic white and embroidered set.

You take a slow and warm shower, and leave the bathroom smelling like berries and roses, dressed in your lingerie and a robe. You walk out of your bathroom to find the dress Joel picked for you that day, carefully placed on the center of your bed, your dad smiling softly at you, his hand on his right cheek.

The dress is short, made of a light blue fabric with some small white and yellow daisies embroidered on the neckline, that has a lettuce trim. It has thin tie-up spaghetti straps and a defined waistline. It's supposed to hug your back and waist while having a more loose grip around your chest and thighs.

"He did choose the right one." Frank almost whispers, looking at you and then the dress.

"He did." You smile softly, your eyes watering just from thinking about that day as you run your fingers through the delicate embroidered flowers.

"Do you wanna wear it?" Your dad suggests, his eyes glimmering with both excitement and the glowy, warm dance of the flames of the bonfire — that Bill lit up while you showered — bouncing on the walls around your room.

"I don't know, dad..." You whisper, your sight blurry because of all the tears.

"You should wear the one the chose." Frank lifts your face. "It's a sweet memory you have with him." He dries the tears that roll down your cheeks.

You smile weakly, remembering him sitting down on your bathroom floor, his legs spread while he fixed your cabinet, talking about the QZ and thoughtfully helping you pick a dress even though he clearly had more important things to do.

You nod and Frank helps you in it, telling you how pretty you look while he ties the straps up your shoulders, before browsing through a few vintage catalogs after a simple and romantic hairstyle.

You sit in front of the mirror so he can start curling and doing your hair, and for the first time since Joel left, you have a sincere smile on your face. You've missed this, these simple moments with your dad, doing your hair, dressing up, talking about nothing, making up gossip (usually about your poor dad Bill) like you're in a beauty salon — or at least how Frank described women's beauty salons to be in the past.

After an hour of playful; "I heard Bill hasn't cut his hair in like... Three years" and "Oh, but they say he's so lovely under all that beard and grumpiness", your dad finishes up, his eyes watering as he takes a step back to take you in.

The romantic dress, your delicate white shoe and sheer socks, your soft hair cascading down your shoulders, with two delicate and small white ribbons on the back — a new addition he saw in a beauty catalog and begged Bill to find when your poor dad went out to look for supplies—, your rosey cheeks — courtesy of the beetroot blush —and glossy lips.

"You're perfect, my dove. You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen." Frank says, his voice tangled with emotion, and you smile.

"Got your good genetics." You joke, and he chuckles.

"I wish, my love." He whispers lovingly, running a hand on your hair. "But even though my blood doesn't run in your veins..." He starts, his voice thick and uncharacteristically serious as he takes your hands in his. "I guess all the time we've spent together passed some of my good looks to you." He jokes, and you laugh, giving him a hug.

"I love you, daddy." You say, and he tightens his embrace, his eyebrows furrowing at the sweet name.

"Long time since you last called me that." He smiles, his tears — that he tried so hard to hold back — now flowing freely down his cheeks.

"And now I love you even more than the last time I said it." You smile even wider, and you two only let go when you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door.

"You're gorgeous, honeybun." Bill says from the doorway, his eyes red and watery, his expression soft and tender as he looks at you.

"I'm starting to think you two are gonna throw me in the fire as an offering." You say playfully, wondering why they're being so affectionate about the bonfire.

Maybe...

No. You're just hurting yourself.

"Well, now that you mentioned it... That's not a bad idea." Bill chuckles softly. "I think the Gods would love you. Probably the best offering they've ever had. We'd have good crops and healthy animals for the rest of our lives." He says, playfully looking at Frank, and you remember how Joel used to call you angel, the memory of his low and husky voice in your ear making your eyes wetter.

Bill nods at Frank, who nods back. "I'll be by the fire." Frank says, kissing your forehead one last time before holding your chin. "My pretty girl." He smiles at you, leaving your bedroom, drying his face with his sleeves before touching Bill's shoulder and giving him a peck on the lips as he passes by him on the doorway, whispering something to him.

Bill steps closer to you, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them, his eyes lovingly roaming around your face. "You are my daughter." He starts, his voice proud and shaking. He has never let you doubt that you're his child, even if you don't share the same blood. "And you know I'd do anything to see you safe and happy. Anything. Even if it doesn't make me happy." He says, his eyes reddening, and you tilt your head, softly squeezing and caressing his hands, soothing him.

"Daddy..." You say softly, your heart aching.

"But that's not possible because if you're happy I'm also happy." He smiles, his voice barely coming out. "There's no scenario I can imagine in which you are happy and safe — his voice breaks — and I'm not happy for seeing you happy and safe." He says, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I love you more than anything, my love. You're the best and most important thing this life has ever given me, and I only am the man I am today because I've had you with me all those years." He says between tears, and you tenderly dry his face with your thumbs.

"And I couldn't ever ask for a better family. A better father. I know all you do is to protect me. Even if it hurts at times." You say softly, finally coming to peace with what Joel asked you.

How could you ever hate your father for doing that he thinks is best for you? For trying to protect you?

"I want you to forgive me." He whispers, his head tilted down and his eyes looking up at you. "Forgive me for not allowing you to experience love." He cries, and your heart breaks along with his voice.

"Daddy." You cry, squeezing his hands. "You love me so much, you show it to me everyday. I know love. I know your love, dad's love... And for a while I knew Joel's love too." You whisper the last part, but he doesn't react to it.

"I'd be so miserable without you and your father, my love. You two are everything I care about. The only reason I'm still here. The only reason why I've made this place so good and comfortable." He says, his crying intensifying while his trembling hands move to tenderly caress your hair.

"And I know I'd be happy as long as I were with the two of you, no matter where we were. Even if we lived in a QZ, in the middle of the woods or anywhere. It's not this place that makes me greatful. It's the both of you." You smile, kissing his wet and salty cheek, and he smiles back.

"Damn good thing we have the fences though, right?" He chuckles playfully, giving you a side look as you kiss him.

"Absolutely." You smile. "The hot water and fruits may also make me love you a little more." You giggle softly, and he chuckles.

"I'm charming like that." He laughs, taking your arm in his. "I love you, I always will. And I love the woman you've become. You're strong, you're beautiful and you deserve all the happiness you can manage to have in what's left of this world." He says, for the first time — except while teaching you how to survive and defend yourself — talking to you like you're an adult.

"I'm only all that because I'm your daughter. Because you raised me." You whisper, your voice full of pride and love. "I love you too." You touch your head to his shoulder tenderly, your love for each other filling the air around you while he holds you for what feels like forever — but still not long enough.

"C'mon, your dad is waiting for us." He says after a while, and he fixes your hair before walking you downstairs, his arm tangled with yours.

He goes slowly, no rush as he sometimes steals glances at you and smiles. You don't understand why, but this moment feels special. If feels like you're gonna remember this feeling forever.

You find the front door open, and he guides you towards it. From inside you see Frank smiling by the bonfire as he looks at you, and you see his lips moving, whispering 'my princess', making you smile back at him.

You walk outside your house with your arms still tangled with your dad's, and as soon as you look at the bonfire...

It can't be.

"You. She needs you." Bill cried on the radio, inviting Joel to come back, to stay with you. To help him make you happy.

You eyes well up instantly, your mouth hanging open and your nose burning with the sudden rush of tears flooding your eyes, and you try to run, but your dad holds you back, taking your face in his hands.

"Honeybun..." His voice is shaking. "You know I love you more than anything in this life, don't you?" He asks and you nod emphatically, repeating 'yes' over and over as tears roll down your cheeks. "Promise me you'll always love me more than anything too?" He asks, his eyes watering as he smiles adoringly down at you.

"I could never love anything more than I love you, daddy." You cry, hugging your dad tight. He kisses the top of your head and gives you a reassuring look.

"I love you." He whispers, releasing your arm. You look at Frank, and he nods, his cheeks wet.

You turn back to the bonfire. To him. And you run.

You run desperately into his arms, open and ready to hold you. His body stumbles back as you jump into his embrace.

God, how you missed his arms, how you missed his smell, his warmth. You can't even speak, letting the tightness of your embrace speak for itself as you grip his shirt and shoulder blades tight and he almost lifts you off the ground, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it against your chest.

"Joel..." You cry in his ear, squeezing him as much as you can to make sure this is real. He is here. With you.

He cries your name back, holding the back of your head and wrapping his other arm protectively and tightly around your waist, his tears wetting your hair. Your hair that he missed so much, with the softness and the scent he craved so much, the scent of your skin, the feel of it, the glow you emanate, that seems to leave your pores and intoxicate him.

He pulls back slightly, his hands holding your waist and cupping your face — that way he always cups your face —, his thumb caressing the delicate skin underneath your eye, his eyes looking adoringly down at you, like you're the most precious, most special and delicate thing left in this planet. Like if you're the sole reason behind his wide smile, that seems to mimic yours. Wider than you've ever seen before.

Your presence gives him an instant sense of peace, a sense of belonging, of purpose. He wants to preserve this. Your wellbeing, your safety, your peace, your smile. Make sure you're well fed, healthy, taken care of. Make sure you're happy and loved.

It makes him want to forget about the old Joel. The sad and bitter, stoic and practical man that wouldn't want to get involved with you under the cowardice of not being good enough for you. He will be good enough. Vulnerable enough, open enough, romantic enough. He will allow himself to love you. He is gonna make damn sure of it everyday, he promises to himself. There won't be one day he won't do everything in his power to make you the happiest woman alive.

The old violent and deadly Joel will be preserved though. Kept quiet in a corner, always vigilant and attentive, ready to surface if he ever has to protect your town, your parents or especially you. Ready to not measure means to keep you safe.

You look behind him and see three big bags on the floor. "Are you... Are you staying?" You ask with a wide and contagious smile, almost out of breath, and he nods, his eyes somehow becoming even softer.

"Only if you want me to." He smiles, like you could ever say no to him, like if you could ever not want him to stay. Ever not want him.

Your smile somehow widens even more and you hug him tight again, like if any inch between you two could perhaps give him a chance to leave again. A chance he'd of course never take, never leave you again, never not have you again.

You enjoy his warmth for a little longer, remembering how soft and comfortable his embrace feels, how his fluffy flannel makes his chest feel like a pillow. How safe and special you feel in his arms. The arms that had no responsibility to love you, to choose you, but that did anyway.

And he holds you close. His strong arms keeping you shielded and protected, warm and safe. He never wants to forget what it feels like to hold you again. His heart seems to find a calmer pace as it feels your own beating against his chest.

A few moments later you remember that Joel isn't the only person last on earth and turn back to your parents, their arms holding each other's, Frank resting his head on Bil shoulder, with a smile that almost matches yours and Joel's, and Bill with a stiff expression that breaks when he sees the pure bliss and joy on your face. Any remnant of doubt or uncertainty leaving his shoulders as he sees the smile and the glow he missed so much these past few months.

You run to them, hugging both at the same time, your face nesting between their shoulders, and they hug you back, protectively wrapping you in their arms. You all share a silent understanding.

This is what life must be. Full of love and trust. Full of people who wouldn't hesitate before doing what's best for one another. Who wouldn't hesitate to protect and care for each other.

"He moves one finger you didn't want him to and you tell me, you hear?" Bill says as you pull back a little, still in their arms.

"Bill..." Frank laughs.

"You raised me, dad. You know I'd kill him myself." You joke, and Bill's eyes glimmer with amusement.

"That's my girl." He laughs proudly. "She's my daughter." He playfully nudges Frank, like it'd be news to him.

"Yeah, it shows." Frank laughs back, and you hug them tight again. "Go stay with him, love. Your dad and I are gonna bring out the food." Frank says, and you nod, walking back to Joel, who once again takes you in his arms, holding you tightly, as if trying to make up for lost time before letting go and sitting down at one of the benches your dad put by the bonfire.

You sit beside him, your body facing him, and he fixes your hair tenderly.

"The ribbons look nice." He compliments, and you smile. He notices the smallest new details about you, and it makes you feel special and pretty.

"Thank you." You purr, feeling your cheeks warmer than before.

"I got you something." He smiles at you, reaching behind himself to pick a bouquet he made with some wild flowers he found on his way back to Lincoln and some craft paper Tess helped him sort out in the QZ. It makes you smile, your eyes welling up.

"Joel... They're beautiful." You manage to say, your voice barely there.

"Some are already dying, but they are the ones closer to the QZ. The closer to you, the brighter they are." He says softly as he fixes the tie-up straps of your dress, and your heart melts. "Just like me." He whispers, his eyes red, and you smile lovingly at him.

You notice there's a paper amidst the flowers, and you take it in your hands, finding it to be a photo of Joel, that's all wrinkled, like he was planning to throw it away.

"When is this from?" You ask curiously, smiling up at him, his cheeks covered by a small blush.

"That's..." He clears his throat. "The photo I took when I got you the polaroid camera, to test it. I took it before eating the food you made me." He chuckles. "I thought it looked terrible, but then I thought you'd kill me if I ever told you it existed and I never gave it to you." He smiles, gently taking your free hand in his.

"I would." You smile, tenderly caressing his cheeks in the photo, feeling his thumb caress the back of your hand.

"Sometimes I'd doubt myself." He whispers, like he's just thinking out loud, his eyes traveling around your face, a small and silly smile on his lips. You frown, tilting your head slightly as you turn to face him. "I'd wonder if you were really like this." He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up even more, in a way only he can make them. "Not even the photo you gave me would convince me that you were this sweet." He says with an adoring smile.

"Do you remember this dress?" You ask quietly, and he gently plays with the fabric covering your thighs.

"I knew you'd look perfect on it." He smiles. "It's like it was made for you." He says.

"Just like I was made for you." You whisper back, a shameless smile on your lips.

His eyes are wet as he looks at you. "I missed you." He whispers, his lower lip trembling.

"I missed you too." You whisper back, resting the bouquet on your lap and cupping his face, bringing his forehead to touch yours.

He nuzzles your nose, fighting back the instinct to lean forward for a kiss.

"Guess we're doing it... The little ranch." He says instead, sniffing softly and beckoning to the house across the street, a single tear falling from his cheek onto yours.

"Am I still invited to move in with you?" You laugh softly, caressing his stubble, and he responds the laughter.

"Meh... We'll see how it goes." He playfully shrugs with a smile. "I wouldn't wanna do it without you. You're the most important part of any of my plans." He whispers, his tone soft and serious as he squeezes your hand and turns it to kiss the delicate skin of your palm. "We're gonna stay with your parents while I renovate our house — our house... — and then when it is perfect, we're gonna move in. We're gonna be patient until then." He says, and you frown. You know exactly what he means.

"Joel..." You half whine. Why does he has to be such a good man?

"I know, baby. But that's not what I want from you. And I promised your father I'd have everything settled before I touched you. So both of you know I want this." He sounds sincere, so sincere, so honest, it breaks your heart. "All of this. And mostly you." He smiles.

You've been through it, but your stomach freezes at the thought of your dad and Joel talking about whether the two of you did... That.

"Did he ask you if we had s-...?" You ask, your voice small and mortified, your always sweet eyes wide open.

"We didn't use the words themselves." He quickly says when he sees the panic in your eyes, caressing your hand soothingly. "But I assured him we haven't... Actually done it yet." He says. "And he made me vow to keep it that way until I'm settled here."

Your dads return before you can respond, with trays of kebabs, some savory oat muffins you made earlier that day, fruits and a few drinks.

You all start eating, and you notice how hungry Joel seems, how he eats like he's hiding his real hunger, and it breaks your heart. But as you cook him another kebab over the bonfire flame, you get a glimpse of what life's gonna look like from now on. Taking care of him, making sure he never has to go for a day without being well fed and loved.

"Only thing missing here is some s'mores." He chuckles, looking down at you with a full mouth and a silly smile.

"Oh, I've never had those...!" You gasp, almost whine, your eyes shining with the idea of it.

"They're amazing, you would've loved them." He smiles, cleaning a few crumbs on your cheeks.

You and Frank talk and have fun while Joel and Bill mostly just watch, both still testing the waters with each other. Bill tries to read Joel, noticing how his eyes shine when he looks at you and how happy you seem with him, how close together the two of you are sitting, with your thighs glued to each other's; and Joel tries to not be too invasive or physical for Bill's liking, even though he wants nothing more than to keep you close and his arms around you for good measure.

Bill eventually joins in the conversation, asking Joel about the path from the QZ to Lincoln. About what he saw, if he noticed anything different or concerning. Joel explains how he covered his trail and describes his encounters with the dead and the infected, and you worriedly try to check his arms under his flannel, making him laugh softly at your worry, reassuring you he's fine.

···

After you're all full, Frank asks your help to bring the dishes back inside, and you follow him. After you set everything in the sink he tells you to leave it to clean the next morning and takes you to his studio, where he hands you the finished painting of Sarah.

"He gave you flowers, right? Go give him your gift." He smiles at you, and you smile back.

You walk outside the house with the canvas behind your back, and you spot Joel and your dad talking to each other. There aren't any big smiles yet, but it's happened before, so you hope it's gonna happen again.

You go to them, turning the canvas towards him, and his eyes swell as soon as he sees it, his eyebrows moving and his lips quivering.

Frank captured Sarah perfectly. Her soft eyes, her hair, her freckles and dimples. Her silly smile is almost as bright as the real thing used to be. He can't help but caress the canvas, like he could feel the soft skin of her cheeks.

Joel cries like he's seeing his girl again, like she's there with them, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a breeze pass by him when he saw the painting. Like she's by his side, present, approving of his much longed and deserved happiness. Like she's smiling from wherever she is, finally resting now that he has all this. Now that he has a safe and loving environment for himself. Now that he has you, like she knows you're gonna take care and love her father.

He hugs you, no words needed to express his gratefulness, how much he loved it.

"It's perfect. It's her. My babygirl." He manages to say between tears anyway, and when you pull back, Bill walks closer to Joel, looking at the painting, his own eyes watering.

"I know you're gonna be everything my daughter needs, Joel." He says. "Because you are a father too." His voice breaks. "You know exactly how much she means to me. I... I Promise I'll do my best to rebuild my trust in you. For her. We're gonna make this work." He whispers, and Joel nods, a determined look in his eyes. He knows it's not easy for Bill, and he wants to earn his respect once again. "And besides... She's my daughter. I know she'd deal with you before I had to step in." He chuckles, and Joel laughs.

"I know she would." Joel agrees, his eyes watering as he looks at you.

"You take good care of my little girl. You make her happy. You keep her safe. You keep that gorgeous smile on her face." He says, turning back to point at you and your wide smile, tears pouring from his eyes. "And we ain't ever gonna have a problem again." He tells Joel, who once again nods, offering his hand for your dad to shake.

He's not good at being vulnerable around others, but he hopes that's another feeling you might restore in him.

"That's everything I'll ever do." Joel says, and they shake hands, a mutual feeling of respect and trust being established between the two men. When Frank joins them, Joel offers his hand for him to shake.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not Bill!" Frank laughs, pulling Joel into a hug that he happily responds to, feeling grateful for Frank's trust in him this whole time, and for the portrait he's still holding.

"Thank you, Frank." He whispers as they hug. "For trusting me even when I didn't deserve your trust. And for giving my girl back to me." He says, his eyes once again down to Sarah's painting.

"It was an honor to paint her." Frank smiles. "And she's not the only girl I manage to get back to you." He smiles back at you. "You take good care of my baby. Her father is a psycho, you know that." He jokes, and Joel chuckles.

"We all are to protect who we love." He nods, the old Joel speaking. Lethal when it comes to protecting you.

"You're part of our family now. Thank you for making our daughter so happy." Frank says, nudging Bill for him to say something.

"Yeah, yeah. Family." He says, his voice dry and choked in his throat. "We'll do our best to make her happy." He says, and Joel nods.

They all turn to look at you, and you feel like you could burst with love and happiness. Your parents and the man you love. All going out of their way to make you safe and happy.

"Love! Photos!" Frank tells you excitedly, and you run inside to get your camera.

"Frank..." Bill mumbles, but Frank shushes him.

"Bill today is a special day for our daughter." He says, his voice firm. "We are taking photos." He fixes Bill's hair tenderly, Joel smiling as he watches the two of them.

No wonder you're so special. Being raised by these two.

You come back with the camera Joel got you, and you first take a photo of the three of them together. Frank standing in between as they all give you their best smiles.

Then Joel takes a picture of you and your dads, smiling to himself at your bright smile.

"It looks perfect." He smiles, and Frank takes the camera from him.

"Go on, love. You two. Get the flowers, where are the flowers?" He says, and you and Joel pose together, his arm around your waist while you're wrapped around him, holding your bouquet, a happy and loving smile on your lips, and a wide one on his. "Beautiful. Now a kiss!" Frank says, and Bill shifts on his feet.

Joel is a little hesitant, but you gently cradle his face and touch your lips to his for the very first time since he went away, wanting to save the real kiss for when it's just the two of you. His arms tighten around you, and your dad cheers.

"Beautiful!" He says, showing you the photo.

"Our second first kiss." You smile, looking at the photo, then at Joel.

"You haven't kissed yet?" Frank gasps, and you shake your head. "Oh, and I got it on camera! That's so precious, my love." Frank says lovingly, and Bill smiles as he looks at the photo as well, your smile even as your lips are pressing against Joel's leave no room for him to doubt just how happy you're gonna be with him.

After a few more conversations and photos you all decide to get some rest. Your parents kiss the top of your head and go to their bedroom, Bill glancing at Joel one last before going inside, nodding at him.

All of the dishes are forgotten in the sink. "A tomorrow morning problem!", like Frank said earlier. And the bonfire, still burning its last flames, to be dismantled and cleaned the next morning as well.

You help Joel put his bags and the painting in the living room, only his backpack on him as the two of you go upstairs, holding hands, a peaceful sense of belonging consuming him as he thinks about how this is his life now. About how you don't have to hide, to lie, to suppress your feelings or worry about not having each other the next day.

And he doesn't have to worry about trust or boundaries. They're all set, and he wants more than anything to prove to your dads that he's not just after good food and a safe and comfortable bed with a pretty girl laying on it. He wants you. Happy and safe, his.

···

You reach your bedroom and open the door for him to walk in. He closes his eyes and smiles when the sweet, floral and citric scent he missed so much enters his nose.

He sets his backpack down and looks at you while you carefully place the bouquet on your dresser and fix your hair in your mirror.

"I forgot how good your bedroom smells." He smiles, walking behind you and looking lovingly at your reflection on the mirror, placing his hands on your waist. You turn around, wrapping your arms around his waist, inhaling his own scent.

"You smell good, too." You whisper, snuggling your cheek to his chest, indulging in his comforting warmth, in his presence, in his smell, the gentle rhythm of his heart, the rumble of his breathing.

"Your dad told me to shower when I got here." He chuckles, pulling you out of your trance as his hands trace gentle circles on your back.

"He made me get all dressed up." You giggle softly, certain that it was Frank that told him to shower, and he gently releases his grip on you, lifting your chin with his thumb so you look up at him.

"You're beautiful, my angel." He whispers.

The warm and now softer glow from the bonfire below your window casts a beautiful and intimate light on both of you, outlining Joel's face perfectly. All of his features; his big and sculpted nose, his big and soft brown eyes, his pouty lips, his cheekbones and jawline. His hair, that's still a bit wet near the roots, yet already fluffy and messy on its — now slightly longer — curls, his stubble — the tiny little white hairs starting to flourish —. Everything perfectly layed out for your eyes, making you remember exactly why the thoughts of him made you so breathless.

And when your eyes land back on his, you notice their softness towards you. A softness they only acquire when looking at you. A softness that seems to draw your eyes lower, to his lips, that makes you lick your own, anticipating feeling his touch again, his warmth... his taste.

Like you've rehearsed it, at the same time that you get on your tiptoes, he slowly leans down, gently cradling your face and touching his lips to yours. Intoxicating you with his hot breath against your nose, breathing the same breaths as the warm air that leaves his lungs fills your own, his gentle yet firm hands on your lower back and cheek, the roughness of his fingers on your skin, the softness of his wet lips caressing yours.

Feeling his beard tingle your face again makes you melt into his arms, it makes you melt and it makes you moan softly into his mouth, making him hold you tighter and gently tug on your hair, deepening the kiss even more and grunting as he tastes what he's missed for so long. The sweetness he thought he'd never have in his hands again.

Your tongues dance together in a passionate and intense display of intimacy. Intimacy that you've learned not long ago, that he taught you all about. An intimacy that makes him feel like you've known each other your whole lives, like your love follows you way before this life and these bodies. Like your souls have been longing to be reunited for much longer than just a few months.

You tug at his jacket, wanting to squeeze him, to make sure he's real and all yours, to try and make him feel just how much you've missed him, to have him as close as possible to you.

"Baby... We talked about this." He pulls back to whisper breathlessly over you lips when you start pressing your body against his, the kiss going from slow and romantic to hungry and needy, the sensations traveling from your tongue directly to form a pool between your legs.

"Please, Joel. I need you." You moan, burying your face on his neck, kissing the warm skin there.

"Baby..." He tries to protest, feeling that same vulnerability you always erupt inside him.

"We don't have to do anything we haven't done yet." You purr, looking up at him. "Please, Joel. I thought about you every single night." You say, and you see his nostrils widening, his chest expanding and his jaw clenching as you confess to have done what he also did.

Every single night after the first few weeks, when pain and guilt started to give space to the longing and need to be together again. Nights where he laid on his side and held himself tight, imagining what you'd feel like, remembering how warm your skin felt against his, how good you smelled, how much he missed your nails on his back, your fingers curling on his hair, your lips burning his skin, your warm and wet flesh around his fingers. Nights where he held your photo to smell the - fainter by the day - perfume you sprayed on it and to look at your sweet smile, remembering how your face contorted and how you cried his name, the sound still echoing in his mind.

"You're gonna kill me." He whispers, pulling away, leaving you whimpering softly as he walks towards your window, resting his hands on the bottom of the frame, looking at the house across the street. The one he chose to live in with you. To make yours.

You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head against his back. "It's ok." You whisper, feeling his back expand with his heavy breathing. "I can wait. I like that you want to wait." You say against his back, your hands caressing his stomach and chest, and after a few moments, he turns around, facing you, his eyes scanning your face.

"Did you tell the truth?" He asks, his voice low and quiet. "Did you think about me like that?"

"I did." You confess again, feeling your cheeks warm up as your gaze drops to his old and dirty boots and your delicate shoes and white sheer socks.

"Then why do you need my help, angel?" He asks with a soft smile, almost a smirk, gently cupping your face and pulling it up so you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheeks.

"Because I couldn't... do it without you." You purr, leaning into his touch until he removes his hand, making you whimper as he once again walks away from you. "Joel..." You whisper, watching him.

He hears it and chuckles softly before sitting on the edge of your bed and looking at you. His gaze just like you remembered it. Hungry and lustful but somehow still soft and lovingly, his dark eyes glistening with the flames of the bonfire that are weakly dancing around your room. The intensity of his gaze makes you shift on your feet while you wait for him to say something, your fingers nervously curling around one another.

He pats his lap, calling your attention. "Come here, angel." He calls, his voice as soft and demanding as always, and before you even process it, your legs are obediently walking towards him, earning an approving smile. "Good. Come here." He instructs again, this time pulling gently on your waist for you to sit across his lap.

"I missed the way you talk to me." You confess in a whisper.

"You did?" He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear while his eyes roam around your face, a silly smile on his lips.

You nod, your eyes catching his gaze as you just stare at each other in silence for a bit.

"I like the way you tell me what to do." You purr, your shaky voice betraying how nervous you are to be so close to him again.

"And I love how you trust me..." He responds quietly, like he's just thinking out loud. "... How responsive you are to me." He whispers.

You look up at him, your eyes glistening behind a thin layer of blissful tears. "Responsive?" You ask softly, and he smiles.

"You'll see what I mean." He reassures you, carefully grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling it above your other shoulder so he can kiss the soft and sensitive skin of your perfumed neck, earning a breathy gasp and a pleased frown from you. In response, he nibs and sucks on it, squeezing your thigh gently, his hands caressing your skin, going underneath your dress to caress the soft spot where your thighs and your hips connect.

"Joel..." You whisper, trying to give him better access and simultaneously wrap your arms around him so you can touch him back.

He places both hands on your waist and gently pushes you off his lap, and you're quick to turn and straddle him, just like you did that first night on your armchair, your hands going under his arms to tug at his shoulder blades while his go to your waist and hips, holding you firmly - squeezing you so good - and tugging at the soft fabric of your dress while his lips trail wet kisses from your neck to you shoulders as his rough fingers gently undo the straps of your dress, kissing his way back from your shoulders to your jaw, and from your jaw to your already open and inviting lips.

You moan into the kiss, his hot breath caressing your skin and his beard burning you and making you lean even closer to him.

He grunts as you tug on his hair, your hips instinctively rolling against his, and he starts pulling your dress up your thighs with the back of his fingers, caressing and kneading the tender skin of your thighs as he reveals them, his worn out and barely-there nails greedily digging in the soft skin of your hips and bottom in an eager attempt to make up for the time apart, to remember and to feel everything he thought about every single night, to never again forget how you feel like under his touch.

He continues pulling your dress up, and you help him by lifting your arms, allowing him to fully reveal your soft and perfect - somehow even better than he remembered - curves, your delicate white set of lace bra and panties... And he goes numb, his eyes locked on your body and his lips apart, his hands moving up your waist, his thumbs caressing your breasts and rolling around your clothed nipples, his chest moving deeply as he tries to catch his breath, lost in the sight of you.

"I missed you so much, my angel." He whispers, his gaze making its way back to your own, his eyes soft and watery, filled with unspoken words of love and passion, with the longing of all those weeks apart, all those nights where he'd have done anything to be by your side.

All the times he caught himself looking into nothingness, lost in thoughts about you, about how you must've been and how much he wished to be doing the same nothing, staring into the same nothingness, but with you. How much he missed all of you. Every single smile, breath and noise you make. Every wrinkle in the corners of your eyes when you smile, every mark, spot and stretch, everything you'd be insecure about if you've grown in a regular setting. Things he'd never change about you.

He couldn't think of a single thing to change about you to make you more special, more perfect for him.

"I thought about you all day long. And you came back to me." You whisper back, your eyes not as shy as his, your tears flowing freely down your cheeks and onto your neck, inspiring some of his own to make the same path, rolling down his cheeks and soaking his beard. "When my dad was dressing me up... I kept thinking that maybe..." You begin crying softly. "That maybe it was because you'd come back. But... Thinking about it, after so long... It hurt... And I kept burying these feelings down but..." You smile brightly up at him, your eyes leaking blissful tears. "But you came back for me."

"I'd always come back for you." He says with a smile, his voice thick as he once again wraps his arms protectively around you, cradling your face against his chest. "I'd never not come back for you. Even if not now... I'd come back for you one day. I'd never let you be alone, my baby." He promises as he holds you behind your right knee and the nape of your neck, standing up with you in his strong arms and effortlessly fliping you over so you're lying on your back, on the edge of your bed.

"I wanna be yours. For the rest of my life." You say, caressing his hair with both hands as he kisses the now salty skin of your neck and collarbones.

"One day." He promises against your skin before looking into your eyes, his face hovering torturingly close to yours. "The day our - our - house is ready for us. That day; or whatever day after that, when you're ready for me..." He says, his voice softer than the dandelions your father planted near your garden, the dandelions that for so many sunsets heard the name 'Joel' as you exhaustively called and cried for him, with the hope that that day he'd finally come back through those gates. "That day I'll make you mine." He whispers before kissing your lips again, a short kiss before his lips move to your cheeks, where he continues. "That day I'll show you what it feels like to be mine. What it feels like to be a woman." He whispers before kissing, biting and sucking on your neck, right where he knows your vein is.

"Joel..." You moan again, squeezing his bicep through his flannel.

"I'll show you what it's like to be my woman." He whispers, his voice now lower and raspier, huskier. "I'll show you what it's like to belong to a man. To belong to me." He promises, his eyes soft and filled with a possessive passion for you.

He kisses your lips again, a short and wet peck that makes you moan for more, tugging at his hair and looking down when he draws a wet path of kisses down your throat... your collarbones... your chest... his wet and warm lips kissing the outline of your bra before engulfing your clothed left nipple in his warm lips, a sensation that makes you ache between your legs and your back arch up into his touch.

You whimper when he lets go, but as soon as you open your eyes, he's leaning in for another kiss, his hands leaving your waist and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and reveal more of you to his sore — hungrier by the second — eyes.

"Ahnn..." You moan, your back arching higher against his body when he takes your bare nipple in his mouth, the wetness and warmth of his mouth making your legs move in response to the growing warmth and wetness between them, your toes tugging at the sheets.

"You're so fucking soft, baby." He mumbles against your skin, his eyes closed as he rolls your nipple around his tongue, suckling on it.

"Joel... It... So... Good..." You moan nothings into the air, recalling the first and last time he did this to you, how good it feels to have him so close, how special you feel with how he takes his time with you, how he doesn't make you feel like this is about pleasing him, but showing you how much he can pleasure you too.

"I'll make you feel so good, my baby." He says before kissing the lower side of your breast, then your waist, stomach, your bellybutton... Then the skin above the hem of your panties, his hands reaching underneath you and holding and kneading your bottom as he kisses along the whole waistband of your panties, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers tangle on the delicate and thin fabric.

"I know you will." You whisper, making his eyes harden with lust before softening at the sight of your sweet smile. He stands up by the bed and gently pulls your panties down your legs, upwards his chest, and he smells it, closing his eyes and growling at your scent. He places both of your feet on his chest, caressing your legs as he admires the woman — the angel — underneath him.

Seeing you fully exposed to him for the second time, this time knowing he's not betraying your dad's trust, that he's doing it the right way... It makes him forget how to breathe, his hands caressing your thighs, his eyes travelling around your body, pure love and desire burning in their softness. It makes him allow himself to fully drink you in and shamelessly indulge in just how perfect you are, in how every curve of your body seems to have been sculpted in his dreams. Like you were really made just for him, exactly how he wants and needs you.

"You're perfect." He whispers in awe, more like just an observation for himself as he kisses your ankles — with those cute fucking socks — and then his way up your legs, simultaneously lowering himself back between them, kneeling on the floor at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to the edge. "Mine." He says when his lips reach the inner sides of your knees, his hands squeezing the front of your thighs, his arms under your thighs. "Perfect for me. All for me." He possessively squeezes your thighs as he kisses their inner skin, making you moan when he parts your legs, the air once again leaving his lungs to be filled only with the awe of you.

With the scent of you, the wetness and the color, the softness and the taste... Dammit, he can't wait to finally actually taste you, to finally feel your tender and warm flesh against his lips, your wetness coating his lips and tongue, your muscles contracting underneath and around his tongue.

"I shaved for you again." You purr, removing him from his daydreams, invitingly spreading your legs wider for him, shamelessly offering all of you for him. In a way you'd only ever do for him, even if he never came back and someone else did. "I did all this time... Hoping you'd come back." And you did it, longing to see the same darkness in his eyes you saw the first time you said those words. The same darkness you're seeing right now.

"I'd have loved you either way, angel." He whispers, kissing your mount. "A real man doesn't care about that, baby. Certainly not in a sweet girl like you. But I do appreciate the view." He growls before kissing the skin where your thighs connect to your core, earning a surprised and sweet gasp from you. "I can't think of a thing that'd make me not want you." He whispers, kissing your folds before tasting you.

"Ahhnn..." You moan softly, almost laughing with bliss at the feeling of his tongue licking along your slit, diving onto your clit, swirling around the small nub. "Joel... Hmmm..." You moan, your eyes already closed and your breathing already heavy.

"I haven't even started yet, baby. And that's what I mean with responsive..." He smirks before exploring every corner and fold of you with his tongue, his beard deliciously scratching and bruising your skin. "You're so fucking responsive to me, to the smallest little touches."

You try to spread your legs even further for him, eager to give him as much as possible, and he notices your struggle with the need to give him more and to soothe yourself somehow, your hands desperately gripping the sheets, your whole body already overwhelmed by him and the foreign and delicious sensation of his mouth on you. He lifts your legs, touching your knees to your chest.

"Hold your legs for me, angel, please." He asks softly, and you hug your knees, one in each arm, your legs fully spread and your core in full display for his hungry eyes, leaking with need for more, the sheets connected to you by a thin streak of your leaking juices. He presses both his thumbs on each one of your lips, watching as the arousal seems to leak out of your core as he presses against your flesh, his eyes darkening and becoming hazed as he anticipates watching you come apart for him again.

Vulnerable, responsive and shameless, just like he remembers your outbursts to be like. Your eyes closed shut or looking desperately into his own, your lips curled downwards in whimpers and cries, your hands squeezing him.

"I'mma need you to be real quiet for me, alright, baby? Only for my ears." He whispers, looking up at you, and you nod. "Can you do that for me, angel?" He asks softly.

You nod, words are way past your brain's capacity now.

"Words, my sweet girl." He squeezes your thighs. "Use your pretty words for me."

"Yes." You say in a breathless whisper, your whole body is shaking in anticipation.

"That's my good girl." He praises before parting your folds with his thumbs. He grunts at the view and buries his lips underneath yours, his beard scratching you, only adding to the feeling as he sucks on every bit of flesh, slurping in your juices and pressing his tongue against your aching and pulsing entrance, circling it and teasing pushing in.

"Joel!" You urgently beg for more, your voice quiet and small. You need more. You feel like you're so close already, his teasing and the way he's almost worshipping you making your body run to the edge. Already so close from falling that you want to hold back just to feel this for longer. "Joel, I... I can't hold it!" You purr in delicious agony, begging for both his mercy and more of his touch.

"Let go for me, princess. We've got all night to recover and do it again." He says huskily before once again parting your inner folds with his thumbs, admiring your tightness. "You're gonna feel so good around me, baby." He licks the exposed entrance, indulging in the wetness and warmth of your aching body. His tongue lapping on the pool that's formed inside you.

"More, Joel. More, please." You plead, hugging your knees closer to you in a desperate attempt to soothe your even more desperate body.

He responds by taking your clit in his mouth, licking the bud and pushing the hood back with his tongue, the feeling of his soft and warm tongue on your most sensitive spot making your body jolt with a literal spark of electricity that runs through your flesh, the feeling making you desperate with need, like if you're coming already under his tongue, your eyes snap open.

You gasp as he does it again, your eyes now closing shut. He smirks and lets the hood cover your clit again before he begins sucking on it, the feeling burning, itching and aching, all at the same time as your legs tremble desperately against your chest, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your mouth open in a silent scream as you lose complete control, your body tensing up, your juices flowing freely from you to your sheets, and your mind going blank, not a single thought or feeling that isn't the overwhelming pleasure he's giving you crossing your mind.

Only him, his tongue, his hands holding you, his fingers digging into your flesh to hold you in place, his scent, his warm breath against your tenderness, his eyes watching you crumble. You feel an agonizing pleasure washing over you, your body melting underneath his touch.

You come back from your high with tears falling down your cheeks, your legs sore and shaking, your breathing heavy and your throat dry, a sticky pool on the sheets underneath you and Joel gently kissing your folds, trying to help you come down and gather some of the leaking juices that you've just released.

"Joel..." You try to whisper, but the sound half dies on your tongue, the sweetness and need still making their way to his ears, and he smiles up at you, once again kissing his way up from your folds to you mount, through your stomach till your breasts, stopping by your nipple before reaching your collarbones, then your neck... Your throat and jaw, then kissing a tight trail until he reaches the corner of your lips.

"You did so good, my baby." He praises, his voice filled with pride. "So intense but so quiet and sweet for me." He whispers, touching his forehead to yours, and you smile, your cheeks warming up even more.

"Can you do this to me again?" You whisper sweetly, an undeniable amount of innocence and love in your request, making him chuckle.

"Everyday if you want me to, my angel." He smiles, kissing your forehead. "I'd never deny tasting you, making you crumble like that." He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips, your taste mingled with his own making you moan and tug at his curls, needing more, all of him.

"I wanna make you crumble too." You say breathlessly when he pulls back, and he smiles softly.

"Baby..." He starts, and you know that tone.

"Please, Joel!" You furrow your eyebrows. "Please, it's not fair you do it to me and I don't do it for you too." You purr. "I want to do it for you." You reassure him with a smile.

Your eagerness to please him... Something most women did everything in their power to not do... Fuck. He's one lucky son of a bitch.

"Baby... Me doing it to you is one thing... But... You don't have to do the same. We can try something we've already done before." He says, and the honesty, patience and respect in his voice makes you want to ravish him. To make him feel so good for making you feel so comfortable and safe, that he's gonna forget his own name.

"The more you tell me I don't have to... The more I'll wanna do it." You smile, a hint of mischief and innocent curiosity to know what it feels like to finally taste him, to really have him in your mouth, his breathing heavy, his face contorting, his fingers on your hair... "Please." You purr, using the face that gets you everything you want.

And he knows it damn well. He knows you always get what you want. And tonight is not gonna be the first time he says no to you.

"Still trying to kill me, I see." He smiles, kissing you again, his hand once again traveling down your body, gently pinching your nipple and rolling it in between his thumb and index fingers until you whimper in response, then making a ticklish trail down your waist and hips, finding your core again, spreading your folds and pushing the tip of his middle finger inside your - even tighter after your orgasm - entrance. "So fucking tight, baby... Gonna squeeze me so fucking good." He growls against your lips before pushing the finger fully in, curling his finger to masterfully hit your sweetest spot with a precision that not even you have yet.

"Oh... Joel!" You moan, your eyes closed and your eyebrows furrowed as he continuously presses the right button inside you. "Joel?!" You say, your eyes snapping open and confused by the intense and sudden sensation, the feeling increased, as intense as it always is after an orgasm. "Joel I..." You struggle, your face contorted in a perfect display of the blissfulness he's washing your body and soul with.

"Keep saying my name, my sweet girl." He kisses your lips gently before going down and burying his face back between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth, creating a mind numbing sensation as his finger still pumps your favorite spot.

"Joooel!" You cry out, forgetting to be silent, your upper body jolting up.

"Shhhh... No, baby... Be good for me, c'mon. Not so loud." He frowns before diving back in, his lips glistening with you. Your eyes roll back as your hips eagerly move against his face, making him grunt and squeeze your thigh with his free hand. "That's it..." He encourages, and you move even more intensely, your hands tugging at his curls, the sheets and anything at your reach as you feel another soul crushing orgasm building deep, deeper than ever before, inside your core.

"Jooooel!" You cry out again, more quietly this time, only for his ears, your voice strangled.

"Good girl." He praises. "Give it to me, angel. I know how much you love my attention, baby... And you're doing a really good job for me, so quiet and good for me..." He says before sucking your clit back into his mouth and inserting another thick finger in your tight insides, thrusting them in and out gently and pressing your sweetest spot between thrusts.

"Aaaah!" You whimper before it hits you suddenly and you're gone. Mind blank, legs shaking, body convulsing and hands almost painfully tugging at his hair as you have the orgasm of your life.

He groans when he feels your fingers pulling on his curls and your clit throbbing underneath his tongue, his eyes fixated on your pretty face all twisted and scrunched in almost painful pleasure as he breaks you apart. His fingers getting soaked inside you, your walls gripping him so tightly he can't even pump his fingers, just continuously pressing against your sweetest spot until you finally begin to come down.

"Joel! Joel! God! Joel!" You desperately pull him up onto you, holding tightly onto him, kissing his lips with more need and passion than ever before, tears flowing out of your eyes not only because of the overwhelming feelings he just made you feel, but mostly because you still can't process this is real.

You're not dreaming. This is not one of those dreams. He's here. With you. In your bed. His fingers inside you. He's finally yours again.

"Shhh... It's ok. I got you." He whispers when he breathlessly pulls back, kissing your neck, giving you time to recover and catch your breath.

"Joel..." You whimper against his neck.

"I'm right here, darling. You did so good for me again, my baby." He soothingly caresses your hair. "You always do..." He kisses your shoulder.

"That..." You say breathlessly. "I want you to do that again." You say, giggling a silly giggle as your brain starts to regain its shape.

He chuckles, pepering tender kisses all over your shoulder, collarbones, neck and jaw.

"I'm still gonna make you feel even better than that, baby." He whispers in your ears, his breath tickling your neck, making you laugh and get covered in goosebumps. "Over and over again. Until you get tired of me." He promises.

"Then you won't ever stop." You purr back, caressing his beard and his cheek tenderly, enjoying the feeling of having him in your arms again.

"We've got the rest of our lives for that." He smiles, leaning in for a sweet and slow kiss, his weight pushing you deeper onto the mattress, making you moan and pull him even lower onto you, your hands on his back, tugging at his shirt and squeezing his muscles.

"Can I do it now?" You break the kiss when you feel his bulge pressing against your thigh.

"Angel..." He says softly, kissing your jaw.

"Please, Joel... Just a little bit... I wanna see you again... I thought so much about holding you again..." You whisper, your hand moving down his stomach, testing his resistance.

He presses his thumb against your lower lip as is trying to shush you, pressing against it, caressing it. You don't hesitate in kissing it and licking it gently, swirling your tongue around his digit, and he presses his thumb against your tongue, pushing it inside your mouth. You invitingly part your lips and suckle around his thumb, swirling your tongue around it, watching his face; his eyelids heavy, his lips parted and his breathing heavy. He pulls his thumb back, a thin thread of saliva connecting his thumb to your pink and wet lips.

"Fuck..." He growls breathlessly. He just really can't say no to you. He sits down beside you, patting the mattress between his legs. "Come here, baby." His raspy voice calls, and you don't hesitate, quickly dropping to the floor between his legs. "Listen!" He warns softly before you reach for his belt, and you retract your hands, his hand gripping your chin firmly. "No mouth unless I say so." He sternly says, his mind reeling on the sight of your pink and wet lips around his thumb.

"Joel...!" You whine, frowning in frustration, sitting back on your heels, your hands resting on your thighs. He only looks down at you, his eyes serious and stern.

"No mouth or nothing at all." He says, and you frown.

"Alright." You mumble, making him smile.

"There's my good girl." He says, running his thumb on your cheek before placing his hands beside him to support himself. "Take my pants off, baby." He instructs softly.

You decide to first untie his boots, carefully removing them from his tired and calloused feet, hearing him groan in relief. You remove his socks too before undoing his zíper, your fingers curling underneath the waistband of his jeans and boxers down his legs before looking back up at his cock.

His throbbing, hard and aching cock. Aching for you. For more of you than he'd admit right now. For all of you.

You smile up at him, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles down at you.

"Go on, baby. It's yours." He says, his voice affected by lust and affection as he gives himself to you.

"It's mine?" You whisper, shooting him a tender and playful smile as you loosely wrap your fingers around him, frowning when you feel how hard and warm he is, how tender his skin is despite how really hard he is in his center. Just like you remembered.

God, you missed him.

His pink and glistening tip, his thick and towering length, his vein that travels from his base all the way to his tip, his foreskin involving his tip, his balls heavy with everything you can't wait to begin craving.

"All yours, baby. It likes you. Missed you." He smiles down at you, and you can feel your cheeks a little warmer.

"I like it too. Missed it too." You whisper before stroking him slowly and gently, getting used again to how he feels in your hands.

"I can tell, baby..." He whispers, looking down at you. "Remember how you did it that time in the bathroom?" He asks softly, gently fixing your hair behind your shoulders.

"Uhum". You nod.

"Good. Do it just like that. Slow at first, then faster." He instructs softly, and you smile up at him.

You grip him a bit tighter and move your hand slowly, making him grunt. You watch how his foreskin moves along with your hands, covering and uncovering his tip, his precum pooling in his tip as he allows himself to be consumed by your touch. Your soft hands, your curious gaze and touch, how happy he is to have you again, to know you're his. To do this... And to see you everyday, to take care of you everyday, to kiss and hug you everyday. He moans and cups your cheek, tilting your face up as he leans in, his stomach pressing against your hand as he kisses you again. His lips desperate to never again forget what you taste like.

"You're so beautiful, my angel... You're so, so perfect for me." He says, his eyes travelling around your sweet and flustered face. "It's like you were made for me. Just for me, just so I could find you one day." He whispers.

The thought of being his, of your whole body belonging to him, your whole purpose to please and make him happy is more overwhelming than it should be, and it makes you purr in response. "Maybe I was." You say, making him smile and kiss your forehead before leaning back to give your hands more room to work.

"Maybe you were." He whispers tenderly.

You continue your steady movements, your eyes curiously watching him, and you feel your hands wet. You see his precum leaking out of him and you smear it all over his length, making him grunt as your hands slide easily along him, a wet sound filing your ears, making you lick your lips.

"Joel... Since it is mine...?" You ask sweetly, ready to beg for it if he says no.

"Guess I did say it." He sighs while he sits back. He's not strong enough for this. "It's yous, darling... You can do whatever you want with it." He gently pushes your hair behind your shoulders again, his cock throbbing with the ideas he knows you might have.

"I promise you wont regret it." You smile and lean in, smelling him curiously before gently kissing his very tip, your lips just ghostingly grazing his sensitive skin. He lets out a shaky breath when your warm breath hits his sensitive flesh, his eyelids fluttering closed.

"I know I won't, baby... I know I won't." He grunts quietly.

"Hmmm... Tastes like you." You purr, smiling up at him, your hand never stopping its slow and steady, tight pace on him.

"And is that good?" He chuckles softly.

"Uhum..." You lick it, earning a grunt from him. "Delicious." You purr before a long and firm swirl of your tongue around his head. "Hmmmm... Very, very delicious." You moan, twirling your tongue around him again, feeling how soft and wet the flesh of his tip is. Doing it just like that night, when he breathlessly called your name and let you taste him for the first time. "Better than I remembered."

"God... That's... Jesus, angel... Don't tease me like that..." He groans, and you frown.

"I'm not teasing you." You say, licking him again.

"But you are." He pants.

"I just like kissing it." You whisper with a sly smile, and he frowns.

"Yeah, baby. I... God, I like it too. But I need more, I've waited long enough." He growls, trying to keep himself together, his body desperate for more.

"Teach me how to give you more." You whisper.

Jesus Christ.

"Suck on it, baby. Go slow, not too deep. Do it like you were doing with your tongue, but sucking on it at the same time." He instructs breathlessly.

"Ok." You say before wrapping your soft lips around his throbbing tip again, this time sucking and licking simultaneously, earring a grunt.

"Good, just like that." He praises. "Don't forget your hand." He says, gently wrapping his large ones around yours, and you begin moving it up and down his length, moving your wrists at slightly different paces to increase his sensations. "Good job... Fuck... Just like that." He moans, his hands moving along with yours, their warmth reassuring and comforting.

You continue giving him more, gently suckling on his tip, enjoying the feeling of it against your lips and tongue, the curves of the underside of it, the warmth and taste, how wet and how soft it feels. You lock your lips around it and swirl your tongue around the head, and he moans when the underside of your tongue slides over his aching tip.

"Holy shit... Baby..." He pants, trying not to stop your exploration, even though he wants nothing more than to hold your head and relieve himself. Instead, he looks down at you, reminding himself that it is you, your mouth, your first time doing it, and his hand tenderly tangle on your hair as you continue getting to know him once again.

The feeling of his hand in your hair is soothing and reassuring. It makes you go deeper, taking him halfway through and sucking with your whole mouth, closing your eyes at the feeling of him inside your mouth, your tongue sliding along his underside, exploring a vein that's pulsing against your touch.

"Oh, baby... Fuck, that's it." He moans breathlessly in response, his hand unconciously tugging gently at your hair. "Try hollowing your cheeks now." He commands with a smooth voice.

You do it and as he occupies your whole mouth, for a sweet moment it's almost like the rest of him is gone. All but his cock in your mouth and his hand in your hair. The feeling of his warm, tender and hard flesh in your mouth is foreign yet familiar, like you've imagined it for so long that it's like you've always had it. Like you were always meant to have him.

"You're doing so good, baby... So fucking good for me." He praises, looking adoringly down at you, his face slightly flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He looks Godly, he looks happy and satisfied, and it makes you want to take him in even deeper, to please him even more, so you do, your eyes locked on his.

The sounds he makes in response and the way his face contorted when he hit the back of your throat made you wanna take even more of him, let him fill your mouth. And the way he pulled on your hair and growled when you did it made you wanna do it again, and again, and again...

"Baby...! Fuck...!" He grunts, his voice strangled, unable to tell you to slow down, his chest and stomach rising and falling heavily with every movement of your mouth on him. The sight of how you were affecting him made you hungry for more, it made you want to take him even deeper and even harder, so you go, and you accidentally gag around him, your vision going pitch black for a second.

His hands tighten around yours, pulling himself out of your mouth as you gasp for air. He looks down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pierced together in concern.

"Angel, hey, baby." He says softly, calling you by your name as well, holding your shoulders to keep you back, and you sit on your heels, looking up at him with red and watery eyes. "Hey, look at me, don't do that, darling." He says, shaking his head while cupping your face and using his thumb to gently clean the precum and saliva dripping down your chin.

"But I wanted to..." You purr, looking up at him, your cheeks burning at your own eagerness. "Did I hurt you?" You ask, your eyes wide with the innocent worry.

He chuckles in response, his gorgeous face lightening up. "You didn't hurt me, baby, no." He fixes your hair. "But you're not ready for that yet. You're learning and you gotta go slow." He explains softly, kissing your forehead.

"Slowly. Alright." You agree before reaching back for him, stroking him slowly and tight.

"See? That feels good already, baby... As long as it's you doing it... It'll always feel good enough." He kisses your swollen lips tenderly. "No going too deep for now, alright? Or I won't let you do it anymore." He smiles softly despite his warning.

"Uhum." You nod before leaning back in, stroking him and cupping his balls.

"Oh... Careful with those, baby..." He says softly, an you gently soften your grip, just rolling them around in your hand.

"Does it feel good when I touch them?" You whisper, and he frowns at the question.

"Yes... Yes, baby. It feels really good when you touch them." He breathes, his voice restrained. "It'd feel really good if you sucked on them too." He pants, giving in to his desires. "Nice and gentle." He instructs.

You smile and take one of them in your mouth, making him hiss, his hand returning to your hair. You suck gently on it, rolling it around your tongue and feeling how it feels underneath the skin, how squishy it feels, how you can feel their outline underneath the stretchy and cool skin. He grunts and moans in response, unable to hide how your curious exploration affects him anymore.

You kiss your way up from his balls to his cock, licking and sucking gently on his base, your hand working near his tip as you place open mouthed kisses along his length.

"Baby... God..." He pants, the way you're so curious to tasting and exploring him makes him feel like he's about to lose his mind and his self-control. "Lick it for me, baby. Suck on it." He groans.

You listen and slide your parted lips up his side, your tongue drawing a wet line across him, making him buckle his hips involuntarily. You begin moving the same way up and down, parted lips and tongue tasting him while your lips suck along his length, paying special attention near his tip.

You suck his tip into your mouth before sliding your lips down, his tip pressing onto the side of your cheek and popping off with a wet "bop" that makes him moan.

"Fuck, that feels so good, baby." He chuckles, caught off guard, and you notice how much he enjoyed it, so you do it again, taking his tip in your mouth an sliding your lips sidesways towards his base, his tip once again pressing against your cheek before popping off, making him pull at your hair.

You moan and suck his head back inside your mouth, whimpering around him, your mouth eager to make him feel good and get the same reactions and sounds out of him as you grow more confident with your touch.

You look up at him, watching how you're affecting him, his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips parted, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed.

The sight is too Godly to resist, so while you suck and Bob your head hungrily around him, you let your hands wander up his stomach and chest, your fingers clawing on his shirt and trying to tug at his skin. Instinctively, he leans back, giving you more room to explore his body as his eyes open to look down at you and his fingers draw soothing and tender circles in your scalp, just above the nape of your neck.

Your hands reach underneath his shirt, touching his sturdy and large torso, gripping his skin and moaning at how good he feels under your fingers. How good his belly feels to hold onto.

He takes one of your hands and squeezes it, his eyes closed in bliss, his eyebrows furrowing every time you swallow what's building up in your mouth and squeeze him a bit in against your lips.

"You're perfect, baby... You're doing it so good for me... Making me feel so good..." He praises, and the confirmation that you're making him feel good ignites the same need that you had before, making you want to go deeper, harder, faster and make his eyes roll back the same way he makes yours. "Let some leak down and use it to move your hands." He instructs, and you let some of his precum and your drool wet his cock.

"So messy..." You mumble around him, looking up at him, and he chuckles.

"Messy is good when you're doing this, baby. Messy feels very good." He explains.

"Hmmmmm..." You moan around him, taking your hands back to his cock and twisting your wrists, his foreskin moving under your wet palms and fingertips as the friction of your hands along with your mouth tightly enclosing around his tip make his hips buckle up, a hiss leaving his lips.

"Fuck... You... You figured all that rest yourself, baby?" He grunts, trying to hold his sensations back and let you enjoy yourself as he shifts his hips, trying to regain some control.

"Uhum." You nod around him, your tongue twirling on his sensitive and leaking tip as you caress him with the underside of your tongue, seeking the same reactions.

"Holy shit. Baby... I'm... Trying but... You're... Fuck... You're gonna have to stop." He pants, the desperation in his voice as he tries to hold back and last more almost making you laugh.

The sight of this big and strong man crumbling under your touch is new and exciting, making you feel powerful and...

Like a woman...?

The realization that his pleasure, his release is under your mercy makes you slow down and harden your movements, exactly like you do to yourself to prolong the feeling of being on the edge.

"Baby... God..." He looks for divine mercy, his eyes locked on the roof as you test his boundaries and limits, as you see how far you can take him before he loses control. "Please, my baby... Just... I need it. I need you." He pants, his eyes now glued to yours, the vulnerability and the honesty with which he gives himself to you makes you fasten your tongue around his tip and stroke him tighter, slowly increasing your hands speed. "Arrnh!" He groans. "Yes, baby, just like that, feels so fucking good."

His response makes you grow more confident, closing your eyes and doing what instinctively feels right to you. Hands tighter and faster with each stroke, lips wrapped underneath his head and tongue twirling and moving up and down, pushing against his urethra.

"Aaaargh! Baby... Pull back... Pull back, fuck..." You hear him grunting almost like he's in pain, and as you open your eyes, the sight makes you moan.

His hair disheveled, his gorgeous face scrunched and pained, his teeth clenched together, his eyes heavy and dark, his neck red, that one vein one second away from exploding. You continue, doing what you think is gonna make him feel even better, hollowing your mouth and suckling on his tip, just like he taught you, and his mouth falls open with a silent gasp, his eyes scrunched together.

"Baby... Pull... Back..." His stern voice sounds more like a pleading as he tries to get you to back off so he can finally let go, but instead, you begin sucking even harder around his tip, almost like you're trying to drink from him.

And he can't hold back anymore. He snaps, his hand tugging hard on your hair, so hard you whimper and furrow your brows, making him tug at your sheets instead, his grip so tight that his knuckles turn white and he pulls the sheets from underneath the mattress, his hips buckling up against his will, pushing more of himself into your mouth as you greedily lock your lips around him and drink every last drop that he gives you, sucking and stroking him progressively more gently and slowly as he comes down from his high.

"Aaaaah!" He pants and gasps for air when you let go of his still semi hard but utterly worn out cock, his arms threatening to give up underneath him as he looks down at you, his eyes hazed and filled with satisfaction and awe. "Baby that was... Amazing... You did so good, my baby, such a good fucking girl for me." He praises, too weak to do much more, and you smile up at him, proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

You climb up his body, and he lays back down, his hands on your waist and hips as you lay your naked body on top of his clothed torso, looking up at his blissful face. All of his wrinkles and the usual stressed frown between his eyebrows gone with the attention you just gave him, his eyes closed and his lips parted as he catches his breath.

"I told you you wouldn't regret it." You whisper, kissing his jaw.

"Regret it? Fuck... Baby... I... Why do you think I've never let you do this before?" He chuckles.

"Why?" You ask playfully, playing with the buttons of his flannel.

"Because I knew you'd make me feel so good, baby." He smiles. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. But I'm also not about to start questioning it and make God realize he sent you to the wrong motherfucker and take you away from me again." He chuckles.

You giggle and snuggle closer to him, letting go of your weight and feeling his body moving with his heavy breathing, the movement soothing you, like you're swimming in a sea of Joel Miller.

"Joel...?" You say quietly as you two just breathe and enjoy the warmth of one another.

"Yes, baby?" He whispers back, his hands caressing your back and holding you close.

"We need to take a shower... And put some clothes on." You say softly, lifting yourself and looking down at him, his face relaxed and almost silly, his eyes as soft and happy as always when they're looking at you.

"Guess we do." He smiles, pulling you down for a kiss, tongue tracing your lips before you grant him entrance and he deepens the kiss with renewed passion and tenderness. "I love you." He whispers against your lips, the words rolling easily from his lips, as if he's said them multiple times when you weren't there to hear it.

You pull back, looking into his eyes as he smiles at you. "I love you too." You whisper, your eyes welling up. "I love you, Joel." You repeat, smiling widely, and he flips you both around, his body hovering above yours.

"I love you, my precious angel... And finally you're with me to hear me say it." His eyes water. "I said it so many times... Looking at the picture you gave me... With that pretty smile... I couldn't stop thinking about you." He says, his voice loving and vulnerable.

"I waited for you to come back. Every single day, until yesterday..." Your voice breaks. "... I spent the sunsets looking at the gates, hoping I'd see you walk in again." You cry softly. "And I'd keep doing it. Eery single day... I'd always wait for you." You purr, and he cups your cheek that way, his thumb caressing the soft skin underneath your eyes as his other fingers wrap around your ear, his gaze loving and tender.

"And I always asked Frank about you. When he was the one on the radio I'd always sneak in and ask about you. I always made Tess ask about you. She said you were always on your porch," He smiles. "looking beyond the gates, trying to see me... I felt so bad, baby." He cries, looking down at you, his lips trembling.

There's the vulnerability that only shows up when you're around.

"Joel..." You whisper, cradling his face, trying to soothe him.

"You didn't deserve to go through any of that... Any of that." He says, his eyes closed in shame.

"Joel... Baby... Look at me, please." You purr sweetly, gently squeezing his face so he looks at you. "I'll tell you what I told my dad." You sigh to calm yourself down before speaking. "I only hurt the way I did for you because I love you. Because you mean so much to me. And I don't regret a thing. Not even the pain I felt. Because now that I have you... The pain is gone, and I know what I feel for you is real, because the pain I felt was real. And I'll never feel that pain again as long as I have you." You say tenderly, and he kisses you again, his mouth silently pouring all the pretty words he can't formulate to express just how much he loves you, just how much he feels for you as he finally allows the roots and branches inside his chest to grow and flourish, to set themselves now that he knows you're his forever, and he can almost feel his chest expanding just to fit all these new feelings you're sowing on his heart.

"You're my everything." He whispers lovingly. "You make me happy in a way I thought I'd never be again. In a way I know I don't deserve to be." He says weakly. "But you make me feel like I'm worthy of it." He cries. "Because if such a sweet and special angel like you can see through me, can love me... Then I'll try everyday to be the man you deserve." He says, and you smile.

"You already are the man I deserve, Joel. You're the man I want. The man I love. And I'm so glad you were the one to visit us. I'm so glad you found me." You say lovingly, and he kisses you again, his hands squeezing and caressing your soft skin as he tries to convince himself that he's not dreaming with you again.

"I wanna hold you all night long." He whispers against you lips.

"You can hold me under a warm shower first." You whisper, smiling, and he smiles back, getting off the bed and pulling you up to your feet as well.

You gently undo the buttons of his shirt and pull if off him, seeing his strong and sturdy torso again, remembering how good he looked that day, the water droplets glistening in his chest and stomach. You slowly run your hands up his arms, kissing the little "v" shape between his collarbones, and he groans softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

"Angel..." He whispers, gently tangling his hand on the hair on the back of your head and making you look up at him. "We've got the rest of our lives for that..." He kisses you gently, just a peck before he guides you to your bathroom, turning the shower on to let it warm up and watching you stand in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror as you remove the ribbons from your hair.

He comes behind you, wrapping his big arms around your naked body and pressing his own skin against your back, just kissing your shoulder and caressing your stomach and your sides, his touch gentle but still possessive.

"It's gonna be good, I think." You smile, looking at his reflection in the mirror, caressing his arms.

"What's gonna be good?" He smiles, looking at your reflection, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Spending the rest of our lives together." You say lovingly, and he chuckles.

"I couldn't make better plans myself." He kisses your neck before pulling back to check the water. "Come on. It's nice." He smiles at you, offering his hand, so you tie your hair up and join him.

He envelops you in his embrace, the warm and soothing water calming your muscles and soothing your mind as he gently washes your body, holding you with your back close to his chest, his touch feather light, careful around your most sensitive areas, and still your body jolts slightly when you feel his rough fingers.

Then you wash him too. His back, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his legs. He only doesn't let you wash his cock "To avoid not going straight to bed." According to him.

He wraps you in your towel and grabs one for himself. You both walk back into your room, and you put on a pair of pink pajamas with red hearts. He dresses something out of his backpack, just a plain t-shirt and some boxers.

You lay down and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest and caressing your hair.

"Promise I won't just wake up tomorrow and this is gonna have been a dream?" You whisper, and he smiles.

"Only if you promise me I won't wake up in the QZ without you again." He says.

"I promise." You whisper. "You're not going anywhere, and even if you went, I'd go with you... You're mine." You smile against his lips.

"I'd never take you out of here, my angel..." He says lovingly. "But I promise I'd always find my way back to you."

You kiss him again, a more simple and intimate kiss, the type of kiss that says a lot without doing much, and he holds you close with his large and warm hand on the nape of your neck, not wanting to lose your warmth just yet.

"I love you, Joel." You whisper again. You're never gonna get tired of repeating it.

"I love you, my angel... my baby... my..." He finishes with your name, his voice as soft as ever, and you nestle even closer to him, feeling safe, loved and happy in the arms of the man you longed for so many nights. Indulging in the warmth you missed so much, a warmth that no blanket could replicate as you shivered, falling asleep with his name on your lips and your eyes wet.

"Goodnight, Joel." You whisper against his chest.

"Goodnight, my angel." He whispers back, kissing your forehead and sighing in happiness. His chest full again for the first time in... Twenty years.

Finally!!!

Finally I was happy and proud of this, and finally it is yours! I'm once again so, so happy and so grateful for each and every single one of you who supported me through this year and a bit that I'm around here. This story is over a year old, which just comes to show how patient you all are and how much we love Joel Miller 🤧

I'm really honoured and happy to have received every message, every comment, every like and every reblog in this series. I hold it really kind to my heart (I wish I could show it to my friends) and having you to share it with means the world to me.

I love you all and I hope this met your expectations 🩷

See ya 🩷🎀

Tags:

[ghostfanwriter]

Hiiiii! I hope you’re thriving rn and experiencing only pleasant things ❤️ I just wanted to check in since it’s been a while but this is in no way an attempt to get an explanation or to force you to come back (or even respond at all). I really love you’re fics and I think you’re extremely talented! Dirty Hands is my fave fic out there and I’m so greateful to you for writing it! You should feel so proud of yourself for your works and creativity. Many people loved them but what’s most important is that you loved them as well! I hope you’re ok and I’m sending you peace and love 😘

- 🐰

It seriously aches so bad when one of you sends me a message about how much you miss my stories... But in a good way, I promise!!! 😭🩷

I've been struggling with a few personal issues, stuff like changing jobs (looking for one, fingers crossed 🤞🏻) and my mental health for the past few months. Mentally it's been a little dreading, with depression and anxiety, but I'm working hard to make progress and having you all checking in (so many of you sent me messages, ily all so much 😭) makes it all so much better and makes me feel really special and loved.

Anxiety made writing hard, though. I love Dirty Hands with all my heart and the idea of writing something for it that wasn't as good as I hoped made me run away from it and let it sit back in my drafts for months. I've made progress and have been writing more lately, but again, I put a lot of pressure on myself to make it as good as I can.

But having you all asking about it and saying so many kind things about my stories makes me melt and quite literally, wanna cry. It shows me that, even if in this microcosm of Tumblr, my stories have meaning to someone. And reading comments, reblogs and messages about it always makes my day just a little bit brighter.

All that to say... I am writing, and I know you're all super kind and overly patient with me, but I'm feeling better now, and I'm ready to trust myself again and get back to writing.

Hopefully the eighth part of Dirty Hands will be coming this weekend, and I'll try to also (as I do some reading to prevent plot holes) edit and fix some stuff on the previous parts. So I'll be reblogging them as I edit 🫶🏻

Maybe this whole sentimental journey doesn't make sense to some of you, "Dude it's literally just fanfiction!". But you all are just so kind and so extremely sweet that I can't help but really see each and every single one of you as my friends, who are always there to cheer me up when I post something. So thank you all, really. You have no idea how actually meaningful (and quite lifesaving) it is to read your words of encouragement, I can really feel the love from here 🥹

Becoming a writer is a big, huge dream of mine, and having my little friends from over here being so nice gives me the courage I need to pursue it professionally 🩷

I love you all and I can't wait to share more with you, see you soon!

Love, Ghost 🩷🫶🏻

[ghostfanwriter]

For some reason I'm feeling nervous to post fics lately, and maybe others need to hear this too...

I'm trying to remind myself:

I write for me.

I wrote this fic for myself to enjoy

If nobody likes it that's okay

This was an idea my own brain imagined!

This is supposed to be fun

This is a hobby

I'm not being paid or judged on quality

This is self-indulgent fun

The fact that I wrote anything at all is impressive and amazing

Those that do read it are wonderful and I love them

[ghostfanwriter]

Your reblog made me read this again and realize how much I miss writing them 😔🤧

🎂🩷 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 🩷🎂

Part two →

🩷 Pairing: Single dad, young Joel Miller x Baker! Reader

🎂 Setting: No outbreak AU. Joel's in his mid-thirties, and reader's on her mid/late twenties.

🩷 Synopsis: Like a sending from heaven, Joel Miller comes in to buy a birthday cake in your bakery. Sure, late night renovations won't lead to anything, right?

🎂 Features: Flirting, Joel blushing, reader being on her knees for him already, the girls being the sweetest, Joel being a super hot, super stressed, dad.

🩷 Word Count: Around 2.3k.

🎂 About this: This is the introduction to how they've met. I keep coming hack to this story whenever Dirty Hands gets tricky, it's my little comfort baby.

🩷 Author's Note: I have no idea how much a cake costs in the US, so help a girl out and just leave it alone if it 's too - way too - off. Hope you like it 🩷

The clock shows 6:20pm, your bakery — supposedly — closes at 6:30pm.

You finish serving the last table — that seems to have no hurry to leave — and go back behind your counter, watching your step to avoid the missing tile behind your cakes' display.

It's almost closing time and all your prayers are concentrated on asking for this couple to leave as soon as possible, as you still have to clean, prepare your doughs for tomorrow and close everything before finally going home.

And after a whole day of working — mostly alone — on your bakery, all you want is to get some rest.

You're on your computer looking up flooring options, and your search is interrupted by a man walking in, his large frame stopping in front of your cakes and carefully looking at all of them, his eyes focused on the options.

"Hi, good evening!" You greet him, getting up, your smile widening as you take him in. Large shoulders, fluffy hair, big eyes, sculpted nose.

He's wearing a blue jacket, his sunglasses are, for some reason, still on his head, and he has his backpack on his back.

"Hey, good evening." He greets you, his voice deep and soft, his eyes still glued to the cakes on your display. Frowning when he sees a particularly pretty one.

"Can I help you?" You ask sweetly, and he looks up at you for the first time, smiling back at you, cursing himself for taking so long to look at you.

"I'm sorry, I was just looking at them, they're all so pretty." He says, embarrassed by how he didn't even aknowledge you when he entered your store.

"No it's fine, I'll take it as a compliment." You say, laughing.

"It's not like they're the only thing worth looking at here. But they sure catch your attention." He says, watching your face, and you feel your cheeks on fire, your eyes almost watering at how flustered the man's got you.

"Thank you." You manage to say, your voice slightly smaller, and he looks back at the cakes.

"What flavor is this pink one?" He asks, and you bend over the display to look at it.

"Hmm, that's a pink velvet! With a custard and fresh strawberries filing." You say, and he frowns. The cake is covered in white and pink frosting, decorated with fresh strawberries.

"Oof, that sounds amazing." He says, and you smile.

"It's one of my favorites." You admit.

"Well, then I'll take it, please." He says, laughing.

"Alright. Is it a gift?" You ask, reaching for the packagings, and he shakes his head.

"No, no. It's for me." He says, and you grab a regular box.

"Well, you do like cake then, huh?" You joke as you take the cake to pack it, and he laughs at it.

"I do, yeah. But this one's for my birthday." He says, laughing, and you smile at him.

"Oh, why didn't you just say it?" You ask. "Happy birthday! Did you know we have a special discount for people's birthdays?"

"Uh, you do? Well... but I don't really want to show you my ID. Don't like to think about the number there, you know?" He laughs, his pretty eyes scrunching at his own words.

"How about I take your word?" You suggest, and he smiles. "I mean, you're either telling me the truth or you really like cake. Or you're just hungry, I mean, your job looks like really heavy work." You say, mentioning his clothes, covered in concrete and paint.

"Those would be three checks. I do love cake, and I am starving because of work. But it is also my birthday." He says.

"Well, then you do deserve the discount." You say, closing the bag. "It'll be 22 dollars." You say.

"Alright." He says, reaching for his wallet on the front pocket of his worn out jeans. "Here." He hands you 30 dollars, and you grab his change.

"Here you go." You hand it to him.

"Oh, no. Keep the change, please." He says.

"No, c'mon. Birthday discount, remember?" You say, almost pouting.

"Here says the cake costs almost 35 dollars." He says, leaning to read the price tag on the display, scrunching his eyes so the numbers become clear. "You were generous enough with your discount." He adds, grabbing the bag.

"Because it's your birthday discount!" You say playfully, extending your arm further, and he pushes your hand away.

"I said keep it." He says firmly, making you flinch, your breathing getting stuck in your throat. "How about I take the discount and you take the change as a tip for you?" He suggests, and you smile. "Keep it." He insists, smiling.

"Thank you." You say, putting the change back, a shy and uncontrollable smile stuck on your face.

"Thank you." He says, looking at you, his eyes somehow even softer. "'Till next time." He says, and you take a deep breath as he turns around.

"Hey, sorry?" You call, and he turns back — a bit eagerly, you could swear —, looking at you, a smile on his lips.

"Yeah."

"You do work in construction, right?" You ask. "I mean, your clothes and all."

"Well, they don't let me lie." He jokes. "I'm a contractor. Was just working across the street." He explains.

"Do you work with renovations? Like, changing floorings, fixing drywalls, changing lights and custumized furniture?" You ask.

"I do, yeah. I have a company, actually. I work for myself." He says. "Although furniture isn't exactly my field. But I know some good people who do it, I can give you their number." He offers.

"Yeah, I'd love that." You say, and he puts the cake back on top of your counter, reaching for his wallet.

"Here." He hands you two cards. "This one's mine, this one's a guy that builds all sorts of furniture. Almost all kinds of materials, I work with him all the time, you can trust him." He says.

"Joel Miller?" You ask smiling, looking at him, his cheeks reddening when he hears you say his name.

It sounds so goddamn sweet on your lips.

"Yeah." He says. "You just give me a call and I come over to talk, see what you wanna do, no commitment."

"Sure! I just want to renovate the floorings, fix some broken stuff." You say. "I'll call you before the weekend so we can talk better." You promise.

"Great. Can't wait to hear from you." He says, grabbing his cake again. "See you." He says, turning around, and you wave goodbye, but he turns as soon as he reaches the door. "Will you call from this number?" He asks, pointing at the number printed on the bag.

"Yeah, that's my professional number." You say, smiling.

"Alright. Just so when you call I know it's you." He says. "Make sure I won't miss it." He adds, smiling.

"Thank you." You smile back.

"Well, now I'll go. See ya." He says, this time actually leaving the store.

You watch as he gets into a black truck, and almost jumps when he looks at you, giving you a little wave — that you're eager to mimick — as he starts his car, driving away.

Your cheeks hurt as you can't control your smile. A beautiful, kind and funny man just walked in, bought a pink cake — with no problem with the color —, maybe flirted with you and now you have his number? And he said he'll make sure he won't miss your call?

God bless the couple that made you stay open for a little longer.

And just as you think of them, they come towards you to pay, thanking you for the food and complimenting your pastries. You thank them — although it's not just for the nice words — and close soon after they leave.

You put all the chairs up, clean the floors and go to the kitchen, where you prepare some of your dough for the next day.

Now you're even more excited to start the renovations around your bakery.

The next day you try to focus on your chores and not call him, and he spends the whole day rushing to his phone and sighing when he picks it up and sees it's not you.

The day after that you can't help it anymore, though.

Not only because you're dying to see the man again — and make sure he wasn't just a mirage your tired brain came up with to distract you from how tired you were that day —, but also because you couldn't stand anymore having to ditch loose flooring pieces, the broken doors of your balconies, the dying ceiling lights.

So you take a deep breath, almost shaking as you leave your mixer mixing your brownie batter and go to the open patio to call him.

His phone rings while he gives Ellie, his toddler, her breakfast — or tries to, anyway.

"Ellie, baby, c'mon, help daddy, your sister's gonna be late for school."

"No!" She laughed, amused with her dad's suffering. He lets his head fall down, defeated.

"Alright, then you're going to daycare with just apple juice on your tummy, because we really need to leave now." He says, and she cheers. "Sarah, honey, are you ready?" He asks his four-year old when she comes downstairs, and she nods enthusiastically.

"Yes, daddy! Can we go now? I don't wanna be late, Mrs. Roberts gives a star for who arrives early." She says. "And I haven't gotten one in over two days!" She says, frustrated.

"Did you brush your teeth?" He asks her while he starts washing the dishes.

"Yes! Of course I did." She says, her tone not even convincing herself.

"Let me check." He says, leaning down, and her eyes widen. "C'mon, come here." He calls, beckoning for her to come close to him, and she sighs.

"I'll go brush them now." She says, defeated. "But then we're leaving!" She yells the last part as she runs upstairs.

He finishes the dishes and cleans Ellie, removing her from her highchair. Just when he's about to take her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, his phone rings, and he sits Ellie on the table to see who's calling him.

He sees the unsaved number and remembers it faintly from your bakery bag, so he looks around, trying to see if he can find it.

"Ellie, don't move, alright, baby?" He tells her, who doesn't even aknowledge him, too busy playing with her toys.

He lets go of her and opens the cabinet where he keeps his plastic bags, looking for the pink one from your bakery. He finds it and sees the number is indeed yours.

"Fuck." He curses quietly. "Tommy!" He yells, calling for his brother. "Come here, I need to pick up the phone, quick." He screams, and Tommy shows up almost immediately.

"Hey." His brother says, clearly just out of bed.

"Watch Ellie, don't let Sarah come after me." He says, walking to his backyard.

He doesn't like his clients knowing how agitated and insane his personal life can be with two small kids and no one around to help. So he always tries to make work calls as quiet as he can.

"Hi!" He says, almost too excited as he picks up the phone, thanking God he made it in time.

"Hi! Joel?" You ask, and he smiles when he hears your voice.

"Yeah, it's me." He says, and you can almost hear the smile on his lips.

"Oh, hey. I'm from the bakery where you bought that pink cake?" You ask, and he takes a second to respond, trying to not make it obvious that he's spent the previous day running to his phone, hoping to hear from you.

"Oh, yeah, I remember! You said you wanted new floorings and furniture, right?" He asks, shooting Tommy a look when he grabs Sarah last minute so she doesn't go after him.

"Yeah, that's me!" You say, feeling awkward. Trying to remind yourself that it's just a professional call, and you don't have to be so nervous. "Could you come over? As soon as you can? I wanted to talk about the renovations." You say, and he nods, only after a second realizing that you can't see him, feeling stupid.

It's just a work call, for God's sake, chill out, Joel Miller.

"Sure, I can be over today, does that work for you? Maybe after you close, or maybe tomorrow before you're open?" He suggests, trying not to sound too eager.

As silly as it sounds, you can't help but think about how you're dressed, what your hair looks like. You stop in front of a window, checking yourself, and only when you make sure you won't die if he sees what you look like today, you can confirm.

"Today would be great! I'm closing at six-thirty, so you could come over at seven, if that's ok? So I can clean a bit before we can talk."

"Sounds great. I'll be there." He agrees.

"Alright, see you then." You say, your beating faster than it has in a long time.

"See ya." He says, running back inside.

"Sure that was a work call?" Tommy teases him, and Joel shoots him a look.

"Daddy, c'mon!" Sarah says, pulling his arm as soon as he closes the backdoor.

"Come here." He kneels down with one knee, holding her shoulders. "Let me check." He says, and she laughs as she blows his face, a tutti-frutti smell invading his nose. "Great, baby, thank you." He says, kissing the top of her head.

"Can we go now? I don't wanna be late." She asks, sounding almost sad.

"We're going, honey. Let's go." He says, picking Ellie and her backpack up, grabbing Tommy's shoulder. "Listen, I need you to go see the Gellers tonight, I have something else." He says, and his brother sighs.

"C'mon, man, not the fucking Gellers." He begs.

"Gellers. You. Tonight. 8pm. Don't mess it up, Tommy!" He yells, leaving the house. "Girls, say bye to uncle Tommy."

"Bye uncle Tommy!" They both say, waving him goodbye.

"Bye, girls! Be good, huh?" He says, and Joel closes the door.

...

Joel never missed having a mom for the girls. No matter how tired and overwhelmed he may get taking care of them by himself — mostly, at least. He could never risk adding someone to the equation and getting his girls hurt in the process.

"Daddy?" Sarah says when he comes back to the car after dropping Ellie at daycare.

"Yes, baby." He says sweetly, turning back to look at her.

"Your shirt's inside out." She says, laughing, and he looks down at himself. He grabs the steering wheel and dramatically drops his head on it, making her laugh even harder.

Having someone to share this life with would be nice, though.

Soo, what do you think?

Your thoughts are so, so important, please let me know if you liked it! I hope you did, can't wait to give you the rest of their story 🩷🫶🏻

My Masterlist 🩷

[ghostfanwriter]

And to think he's touching himself?? Just kill me already, I'm begging you at this point 😔

Dr Miller - Part 2 - Telehealth Appointment

Part 2 of the Dr Miller series. You have a phone appointment, in between your in person appointments with Dr Miller. He’s calling to see how you’re feeling and what he can do to help.

Part 1

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Medical Kink. Non-con/Dub-con. Dom/sub. Dom Joel. Innocence. Sexual Inexperience. Praise Kink. Doctor/Patient. Power Imbalance. Orgasm Control. Ruined Orgasm. Talking you through it. (Not quite) Phone Sex. F Masturbation. Sex Toys. Dominance. Aftercare. Bathroom Control. Depraved yet delightful. Filth.

Word count: ~2.7k

You’re sitting in your bedroom, waiting for the phone to ring. Your anxiety is peaking. Dr Miller is calling you for your telehealth appointment.

As you wait for his call, you think back to your appointment the other day. It did not go how you expected it to go, but then again, you hadn’t really thought about what to expect before turning up. But what you know now is that you’re very keen to chat with Dr Miller again. You wish it was an in-person appointment, but he made you feel so good, you’ll take whatever he’s offering.

Your phone buzzes.

You quickly pick it up, fumbling in anticipation that it drops onto your mattress. You pick it back up, swiping it open and putting it on speaker.

“Hello?” You ask, tentatively.

“Hello,” you hear the dulcet tones of Dr Miller call down the line, saying your name to check with whom he was speaking.

“Ye-.. yes, hello, Dr Miller,” you stammer.

“How are you doin’ sweetheart?” He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Um, I’m good Dr Miller. I mean, well, yes, I’m okay,” you quietly slap your palm to your forehead, realising he is your doctor. He doesn’t want polite small talk. He wants the truth.

“Okay, good… good. Let’s get started, shall we?”

You nod your head before realising he can’t see you and you mumble, “Yes, Dr Miller.”

“Good girl,” he says, almost under his breath. “Have you been doing the treatments I prescribed?” His voice asks, stern, jumping straight into it.

“Um… well, I’ve been trying them. I.. uh, I sent through some videos, earlier in the week?” Your voice inflects at the end, not really wanting to discuss the videos you sent Dr Miller. Videos of you masturbating, to unsatisfactory, non-completions.

“Hmmm… yeah sweetheart, I got them. I can see you’re still struggling when you’re by yourself, hmm?” He asks, his voice deep and setting off a low vibration through your whole body.

“Mmhmm…” you agree, breathing heavily.

“Have you managed to make yourself cum?” He asks, his voice sounds, almost frustrated.

“Um, I don’t… I think… I don’t think I have,” you huff out. “I’ve been trying, I swear Dr Miller. I just… can’t…” Your voice is shy, stammering all over the phone. You feel like Dr Miller is disappointed in you and you feel bad.

“Hmmm…” he breathes out. The line is silent for a second.

“I can see our next appointment isn’t for a few days. We made such good progress at your first appointment, it would be dangerous to leave it so long between… release.”

“Um… okay,” you stammer, wondering where he’s going with this.

“I want to try something. Do you want to go ahead?” He asks, almost like he’s giving you a chance to back out, despite not actually telling you what he’s planning to do to you over the phone.

“Ohhh…kay,” you breathe out.

You hear him make a noise that sounds like he’s angry.

“Say, ‘Yes, I want to continue, Dr Miller,” he directs you, the order shooting straight to your throbbing clit, and you can tell where this telehealth phone appointment is going.

“Ye-… yes, Dr Miller. I want to continue. Please,” you add on for good measure.

“Good girl,” he breathes down the line.

“Is your phone on speaker?” He asks.

“Mmmhmm…” you murmur.

“Good. Get some toys out - your little rabbit clit vibrator and a dildo. Nothing too thick or long, but just… enough. Then, I want you to strip naked and lie on the bed, on your back,” he orders, a little mysteriously and you’re wondering why he wants you to use a small dildo.

“Let me know when you’re lying on the bed, sweetheart,” he says to you.

You quickly gather the items and lie down on the bed.

“Uh, Dr Miller… I’m ready,” you call out, your voice a little loud.

“Okay, thank you, darlin’. Okay, I’m gonna give you some directions and you’re gonna do your best to follow them, okay?” His tone is so certain, so assured, you can’t help but want to listen to him.

“Mmhmm..,” you murmurs.

“I want you to take the little clit vibrator and rub it all over your body. Start at your breasts, sweetheart. Turn it on and let it vibrate all over your breasts, your nipples…” he trails off.

“Hnnn…” you moan as you click it on and do what he says. Your breathing hitches as the vibrations shoot straight to your core, your hips bucking the air.

“That’s it… good girl. Setting yourself up, teasing, a little foreplay, can help set the scene and get you nice and relaxed for… what comes later,” he almost whispers the last part, and it sounds so seductive to your ears.

“Okay, honey, after you’ve spent a bit of time on your breasts, run the little vibe down over your stomach, nice and light, there ya go… good girl,” he praises you as he hears your soft moans through the phone.

“You down at your cunt, yet, sweetheart?” He asks, the vulgar description causing you to choke on your spit.

“Uh, huh…” you mumble.

“Good, okay, don’t put it on your clit yet, sweetheart. Work it up. Run it over your lips, dipping down into your slit, on the inside of your thighs. Work yourself up to it, yeah?” He sounds like he’s straight up talking dirty to you, but you shake your head, remembering that Dr Miller is a professional. He’s doing what he needs to.

You whimper at the ministrations but do as he says, no matter how much you want to just place it on your clit and attempt to force your orgasm out.

“Hmm… there you go, sweetheart, good girl….” He soothes. “Bring your other hand up and roll your nipples. Squeeze ‘em. Make yourself feel good, sweet girl,” he says soothingly.

“Mm… hmm… ohhh…..” you whimper.

“Okay honey, I want you to bring the little clit vibrator down and place it on your clit for me. Can you do that, sweetheart?” He asks, innocently.

Your breath hitches again and you moan out a ‘yes’.

“Okay… there you go, lightly touch your clit, just gentle taps, sweetheart. Oh, that’s it honey, there it is,” he gasps when he hears your moans increase. “But don’t hold it there, sweetheart. Nuh-uh, not yet.”

His words are disguised as orders, and that’s all your brain can think about. You obey, tapping your clit lightly and moving the vibe around.

“Oh.. oh… hnnn…” you cry.

“You still with me?” He asks, sharply.

“Ye… yes, Dr Miller… hnnnnn….” You moan.

“Okay, good girl. Now I want you to take the dildo and start slowly inserting it inside your cunt.”

You still can’t get used to his vulgar description of your anatomy and it causes you to moan loudly and cry out, “Hmmm… yes, Sirrr….”

You aren’t sure, but you think you hear him chuckle down the line.

“How’s it going in, sweetheart? Tight?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you moan out, persisting none the less.

“Probably should have started with some fingers, but I know that’s not enough for you, darlin,” his southern drawl trawls down the line.

“Ohhhhh…. God…nnnn…” you cry out.

“How far in is it?” He asks, composed as ever.

“Al… almost… there…” you gasp out, pushing it the last inch in, groaning at the full feeling.

“Okay, sweetheart, good work. I want you to remove the vibe from your clit. Leave the dildo in there for a minute and clench around it.”

Your cunt voluntarily does at his words, almost like a reflex.

He’s silent on the phone as you clench. Your chest rising and falling breath hitching. Little moans of pleasure leaving your throat every few seconds.

He talks you through it.

“That’s is honey, squeeze it tight.”

Your breath hitches, but you do as he says.

“Gooooood girl, stretch your cunt out.”

You moan at his words.

“Tight, in’t? That’s good, sweetheart, real good.”

You let out little whimpers as you hold the dildo inside, walls squeezing.

“Okay, honey, now I want you to start thrusting the dildo in. Can you do that for me? In and out, there ya go…” he murmurs as you begin thrusting the giant fake cock in and out of your pussy. You’re dripping, absolutely soaked and find the dildo is hitting that lovely spongy spot inside you.

“You wet, darlin’? I can hear you through the phone…” he chuckles.

“Hnn…ohhh… hnnn…” you moan, pumping faster and faster.

“Okay now, honey, I want you to take your little clit vibrator, and place it back on your clit. Turn it on, lowest setting.” He must hear the click in the background because he says, “There ya go, good girl. Press it down, make your little clit feel good,” he coos.

“Oh… hnnn… yes… please… Dr Miller….” You whimper as you press down on your clit and thrust in with the dildo.

“You close, sweetheart?” He asks.

“Uh-huh… ohhhh…. Hnnnn… yes… clos-…close….” One word responses are all you can give at this point.

“Okay, honey, that’s it, keep going, you keep going, even when it feels like you won’t make it,” his kind words, delivered through a stark tone, make you feel warm and tingly in a completely different way to earlier.

“Oh yes… please… Dr Miller….” You cry out.

“That’s it, darlin’. Keep that pressure on your little clit, push down, hit that spot. You still thrusting that big dildo in your cunt, honey? Hmmm? Keep fuckin’ yourself with that big cock,” he orders and you shake at his words. His voice is rumbling, but you think you can hear his breath hitch and you wonder, just for a second, if he’s touching himself too.

“Oh… please.. I’m.. close… I’m so… hnnnn… please… I.. can… Dr Miller….” You moan, trying to ask for permission, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to do that.

“You asking me for permission? Oh sweetheart, what a good little girl you are. O’ course you can cum. You cum when you need to darlin’. Go on, be a good girl, cum for me,” he orders.

His sweet, yet dominant tone, the order, pushes you so close to the edge, you speed up your thrusts and push harder down on your clit. You’re right on the precipice, so close to feeling the damn burst, crying out as you feel the tightness in your lower stomach, your toes curling…

“Ohhh… hnnn…. Fuuuuckkkk… ahhhhhh…. Ohhh…” you cry, legs spasming as you remove the clit vibrator and drop your hand from the dildo, essentially interrupting your orgasm, just as it was about to explode.

Your whimpers reach Dr Miller through the phone.

“Oh, honey, you couldn’t get there? Oh sweetheart, that’s okay… shhh…. I know how hard you tired, darlin’. Shhh…” he soothes you and you’re crying now but for a completely different reason - your ruined orgasm. Ruined by you.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you just lay there, breathe in and out for me. There ya go, in… and out… In… and out… that’s it… shhhh, you did so well, honey, I know it’s hard.”

His kind words are sweet, but you’re incredibly frustrated now, having worked yourself up, but not been able to get there.

Dr Miller is quiet on the phone as you come down from your ruined high. When your little whimpers even out a bit, he speaks.

“Sweetheart, you there? Can you sit up a bit for me?” He asks, his tone gentle, like he’s trying to not spook you.

“Uh-huh…” you say, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Okay, darling, good girl. Now, I’m sorry you couldn’t quite get there. I can see we’re gonna need to do a lot of work. In fact, I’m gonna make some room in my schedule and I want you to come see me in my office tomorrow. Can you do 4 o’clock?” He asks and you sniffle, nodding and murmuring a soft, ‘yes’.

“Okay, good girl, I’ll make sure we get right onto that first thing tomorrow. Make you feel all better, yeah?” You can hear his smile down the phone line.

“But for now, I need you to do a few things for me, honey, okay. I need to make sure you’re okay. So I’m gonna stay on the line with you for a little bit longer, okay?”

“Mmhmm… yes, Dr Miller… thank you,” you say, grateful for his caring nature.

“Okay, well first, I need you to go to the bathroom. I know you didn’t quite get there tonight, but you still need to make sure you’re clean and keep clear of any infections. I want you to go into your bathroom and relieve yourself on the toilet,” he orders.

You whimper at little at his instructions, embarrassed that he is basically ordering you to go pee, but you know he’s right, and not only cause he’s a doctor. You throw your phone down on your bed, gathering your toys and make your way to the bathroom when you hear,

“Are you walking away from me, sweetheart?“ Dr Miller’s voice booms through the phone’s speaker, stopping you in your tracks.

“Um… I just… I’m gonna go pee…” you tell him.

“Take. The Phone. With You.” He orders, his voice slow, measured. You gulp, but do as he says, juggling all the items into your bathroom.

You walk in, placing the phone on the sink counter and dumping the toys in the actual sink. You flop down on the toilet and begin to pee, hoping to get it over and done with, so you quickly finish, wiping yourself and flushing the toilet so Dr Miller knows you’re finished.

“You finished, sweetheart? Good girl. Empty yourself out, that ‘a girl. Now I want you to get a warm washcloth and wipe between your legs. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?” You feel a silly smile come over your face at that particular pet name.

“Mmhmm…” you moan as you turn the tap on, letting the water warm up. You grab a washcloth, drenching it in water and wipe your aching cunt. Despite the interrupted orgasm, you’re feeling pretty good. Dr Miller’s tone and his presence, even just through the phone, has a really calming effect on you.

“You finished cleaning yourself up, sweetheart?” You hear him ask through the speaker.

“Uh-huh,” you say, swallowing.

“Okay, good girl. Next, I want you to get a big glass, fill it up and have a big drink for me, sweetheart,” he instructs, softly, firmly. You nod your head, not even realising he can’t actually see you and take the glass you leave on your sink for brushing your teeth. You fill it up and gulp it down greedily, not realising how thirsty you were.

“That’s it sweetheart, good girl. Drink up. Such a good girl f’ me…” he says as you refill the glass and drink more water.

“Um.. okay… I’m done,” you tell him as you place the glass back on the counter.

“Okay, thank you sweetheart. Thank you for listening to me,” his voice is smooth, back to the cool, calm and collected professional from the beginning of the call and it has you trembling in place.

You breathe in and out a few more times, sniffling a little, waiting for his next instructions.

“Okay, honey, well, if you’re feeling okay, I’m going to end this call alright? But don’t worry, I’m gonna see you tomorrow, and we’re gonna figure this out. Help you get past this, alright, honey?”

“Yes, Dr Miller. Uh… thank you, I really appreciate it,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity is coming through in your tone.

“Of course, honey, happy to help. We’ll go through the videos you sent me, too. See you tomorrow,” he says, as he ends the call.

You look at your reflection in the mirror, huffing out your breath as you realise just how tired you are. You quickly brush your teeth, rinse, clean, and dry your toys, and then fall into your bed, into a deep, deep sleep, despite your pent up frustrations, dreaming of when you’d see Dr Miller tomorrow.

~~~

Part 1

Part 3

Masterlist

~~~

Tagging people who may have missed the first one, and like both the first and second ones 😏

@xdaddysprincessxx @cavillscurls @toxicanonymity @thesimulationswarm @javiscigarette @palioom @fettuccin-e @janaispunk @chloeangelic @oonajaeadira @ghostfanwriter @legendary-pink-dot @beardedjoel @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @whiskeynwriting @wannab-urs @morallyinept @nosesitter @chaotic-mystery @thesimulationswarm @kewwrites @beefrobeefcal @walkintotheriveranddisappear @gemmahale @casa-boiardi @sheepdogchick3 @dogwoodofficial @wintrwinchestr @katiexpunk @girlrotdecay @corrodedcherries @jennaispunk @romana-after-dark @pastawench @yorksgirl @alcaecho

[ghostfanwriter]

Oh, boy... He's so soft and so demanding and when he kisses the side of her mouth I... I'm afraid the next time I have to see a doctor and if I embarrass myself it's gonna be YOUR FAULT 🫠

This is too fucking good, Jesus 🤧🩷

Dr Miller

You visit Dr Miller for a sexual health wellbeing checkup. Luckily that’s his area of expertise.

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Medical kink. Dom/sub. Dom Joel Miller. Innocence. Sexual inexperience. Praise kink. Overstimulation. Multiple Orgasms. Power imbalance. Doctor/patient.

Word count: ~3.6k

“Hello, I’m Dr Joel Miller. What brings you to me today?”

Dr Miller sits in his desk chair, turned to face you. His white doctor’s coat is taut against his muscular arms and chest and his thick thighs are spread open, invitingly, in his chair. He exudes calmness, confidence, and experience.

“Um, hi, Dr Miller,” you begin, shyly. “I was um, referred to you to help me with some uh… intimacy problems.” You mumble your words, unable to make eye contact with the handsome doctor.

“I see, and what sort of intimacy issues are you experiencing?”

Dr Miller looks at you directly, calmly, giving you no room to hide your embarrassment. You feel your cheeks heating a little.

“Well… I mean, I don’t really know. I um… ahh” you trail off, embarrassed to even be here.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay. But you obviously made an appointment to talk about it, right?”

Dr Miller’s voice is authoritative, yet reassuring. Your heart flutters a little in your chest.

“Why don’t we start with a basic exam?” He asks, hoping to get you feeling a bit more comfortable.

You nod your head, yes, that sounds good.

He stands and motions for you to move over to the exam table. You hop up on it, legs swinging over the side.

“First, let’s get your vitals.”

Dr Miller moves into your personal space and starts feeling your neck and glands. He moves his hand to your jaw, applying pressure so your mouth drops open.

“Say ‘Ahhhh’,” he says, demonstrating by poking out his tongue.

You poke out your tongue and say “Ahhhhhhhhhh.”

Dr Miller’s eyes are dark as he looks into your throat.

He mumbles under his breath and shakes his head a little before bringing his stethoscope to your back to listen to your chest.

“All good, sweetheart,” he says as he comes to stand in front of you.

“Okay, darling, now I need you to remove all your clothes and then stand in front of me.”

You gulp at his sudden, domineering direction and slowly undress in front of him, avoiding eye contact.

"That’s it, good girl," Dr Miller murmurs. You feel yourself flush with a pleasant tingle. “Let’s continue."

He motions to the examination table. "Now, lie down on the exam table. I need to take a closer look."

You walk over to the table and lie down on your back. When you look up, Dr Miller is hovering over you.

"I'm going to start the next part of the exam now, okay sweetheart," he says in a commanding, yet gentle voice. You feel a twinge of excitement.

He moves his hands back up to your neck and throat. He forces your jaw open again with his hands and this time pushes his fingers inside your mouth. You gag at the intrusion.

"Hmmm," he says as he removes his fingers from your mouth and opens it again, peering down your throat. "Do you smoke?" he asks.

“Umm… no, I don’t smoke,” you stammer out, still gagging from his fingers being in your throat.

“Good girl,” he praises, though you're unsure if it's to do with your lack of smoking or your allowing the intrusion in your throat.

He continues his exam, moving down your body. His firm hands assuredly moving over your breasts. He spends what seems like minutes massaging, gripping, rubbing and squeezing your breasts. He pinches and rolls your nipples, murmuring what sounds like approval as he does. You squeeze your thighs together as you feel the wetness pool there due to his touch.

“Hmmm, good girl, very good,” he murmurs quietly.

Dr Miller is definitely enjoying examining you. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice.

His hands are everywhere, touching, massaging, rubbing your skin.

He moves his hands lower, exploring all over your stomach. You start to tense as he moves not only his hands, but his face lower towards your mound.

You knew that this was inevitable, given that you came to see a sexual health doctor, but you’re just not ready.

Sensing your apprehension, Dr Miller rests his hands gently on your stomach.

“Let’s pause here for a minute,” he says as he hands you a flimsy paper gown to wrap around yourself and helps you sit up on the exam table.

He stands between your legs and adjusts the gown on your body. He places his strong hands on your thighs and looks into your eyes.

“Okay sweetheart, so far your physical exam is all good. Natural responses, everything healthy. But I noticed, the closer I got to your cunt,” you inhale a quick breath at his use of the vulgar word to describe your anatomy, “you started tensing up. You gonna be a good girl and tell me what’s really brought you here?”

You open and close your mouth a few times, blush rising on your cheeks.

You bite the bullet and spit it out.

Sort of.

“Um, well.. I just, I’ve never… I mean, I find it difficult.. being intimate and… I just… I’ve never done anything….” You trail off, hoping he isn’t going to make you expand.

Dr Miller slowly nods, "I see." He is very attentive and listens patiently as you speak. You look down, feeling embarrassed. His warm hands on your thighs help calm your nerves.

"So, have you been sexually active before and just not very successful, or,” Dr Miller pauses before continuing, “are you a virgin?"

Dr Miller asks as though it's the most ordinary question in the world. His gaze is warm and compassionate as he studies you with his sharp eyes.

“Um… I mean, I guess I’m technically/i> a virgin. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone else before, but… I mean…”

You look down, feeling embarrassed again. Dr Miller reaches up and places a reassuring hand on your chin.

"You mean what, sweetheart?" His voice calm as he asks. He looks at you with his solemn eyes, hoping to ease your hesitation to speak.

“Well, I mean, I’ve had orgasms… I think. Like, I… kind of.. take care of it myself,” you gesture vaguely to the side, avoiding eye contact, keeping your voice small.

Dr Miller nods, "That's perfectly normal. Most people masturbate, you know. How often do you do this?"

Dr Miller doesn't seem bothered by your answer, just making conversation, trying to put you at ease.

You feel yourself start to ease up a little, feeling more comfortable around Dr Miller.

“It depends, I guess. Sometimes I feel super… horny,” you say before you can even realise what you’ve said, but you glance at Dr Miller and he still has that same, reassuring look on his face, so you continue. “Um, and… I’ll… masturbate for hours in a day and other times… I guess I could go weeks without it. Though lately…”

"Lately…" Dr Miller prompts you to continue, sounding attentive to every word. "Lately it's increased?" he asks.

You nod, shyly, avoiding his eye contact.

“And what I used to do… or like use… isn’t cutting it anymore,” you breathe out that last part.

"I see," Dr Miller says calmly, "And you're finding it harder and harder to achieve that... desired result?"

"Yes, exactly. I can't seem to get there anymore. I mean, some parts feel better than, um, others, but I can't… achieve that final result." You trail off, using his words, looking down, embarrassed to be talking to the doctor about this. He seems so calm and collected.

A slight smile appears on Dr Miller's face as he watches your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm," he says, almost to himself, "that's interesting." Again he seems almost proud you're sharing such intimate details with him.

"What are some of the areas that you feel the best?" Dr Miller asks. His voice is so warm and caring.

“The best?” You question, “Do you mean like when I… touch myself, or use my toys?”

"Yes," Dr Miller says quietly. "The best areas when doing that." He moves closer to you, caging you against the examination table with both of his big, strong forearms either side of your hips.

You inhale, at his close presence, but also at his question. “Um, I guess… the thing that really.. gets me off” you chuckle a little saying that out loud, “is when I touch my clit. Or use a little toy on my clit.”

As you’ve been talking, Dr Miller has been absent-mindedly stroking his strong hands up and down your thighs and it feels so good.

"Mmmmmm," Dr Miller says, with that same soft voice as he nods in appreciation of what you have told him. He continues caressing your thighs and you begin to feel very warm beneath his touch. It's almost too much for you to handle and you begin to squirm a little.

"And what does this little toy look like, sweetheart?” He asks, holding eye contact steady.

“Um.. I don’t know but it has like two little rabbit ear things that vibrate and I can just push it down on that spot and it feels really good.”

Dr Miller hums and pushes himself off of your thighs. You whine at the loss of his strong, warm body as he turns his back to you, moving to a cabinet.

After searching around for a little while he turns back to you, holding a small pink toy with little rabbit ears in front of him.

“Does this look familiar?” He smirks at you, walking back to crowd you.

"Mmmmmmmm," you purr unconsciously as you watch Dr Miller move. Your lower body, already very sensitive, gets even more sensitive as he returns.

You look at the small rabbit ears vibrator in his hands, "Yes," you say, "Mmmmmmm, that's the one."

Dr Miller smiles, seemingly knowing what he's doing as he circles his hands back to your thighs, "You have good taste in toys, sweetheart." His tone is calm and soothing.

“But Dr Miller,” you start, a pout forming at your words. “I’ve been using that and it’s not working for me anymore. I can’t orgasm with it.”

"I understand," Dr Miller says, speaking with a professional voice, "but I think I have an idea of why."

He looks at you, his eyes looking right into yours, "Would you like to hear my theory, sweetheart?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper.

Dr Miller speaks slowly, as if he’s sharing a secret. "I think the problem isn't with the vibe, darling,” he coos as he gently cups your chin with his palm. “I think, it's with the fact that it’s you trying to make yourself cum. I think if I were to use the toy on your clit, I could make you cum.”

Dr Miller steps closer, his strong hands reaching for your thighs again.

Your mouth goes dry at his suggestion.

“Oh… kay” you say slowly. “If you think that might help, then, I think we should try it.”

"Good,” he responds, with a perfunctory nod of his head. “I thought you might be open to the idea." He smiles and his tone is so warm and reassuring that it makes it easy for you to trust him.

"Mmmm, it's going to be fine," you hear Dr Miller murmur as his warm hands work their way up your thighs. He leans in, brushing your ear with his lips before whispering, "We'll get you there, sweetheart."

“Now, I’m going to need to get in between your thighs, darling,” he says as he spreads your legs.

“And this gown is just getting in the way now, isn’t it?” He chuckles as he pulls it off you, leaving you naked in front of him again.

“Okay sweet girl, feeling ok?” He brings a soft hand up to caress your cheek and looks carefully at you.

With his other hand, you hear him switch the toy on and the office is filled with a low buzzing sound.

Keep his eyes on you, he lowers the toy to your lap and pushes it in between your legs. He immediately locates your clit and pushes the vibrator directly onto it, making small circles, on the lowest setting.

You gasp and jolt from the pressure.

“Ohhh… hmmmm,” you cry out.

"Good girl," Dr Miller whispers as he watches you respond to the toy.

You bite your lip, your eyes hooded over as you breathe in and out, slowly. Dr Miller carefully pushes the toy between your legs, his touch firm and steady. He looks at you, his eyes scanning you for any responses.

He watches you breathe, his smile turning into a soft, contented expression. "You're doing great, sweetheart."

You arch your back and gasp a few more times, feeling the sensation increasing.

"Mmmmmm, o-ohhhhhhh" you moan, breathing heavily through your nose. "This feeling..." you murmur before your voice trails off.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “That’s it, keep breathing through it,” he says as you hear a few little clicks and he increases the speed on the vibrator.

You bite your lip and start moaning.

Dr Miller watches you closely.

It’s starting to feel quite intense and you’re shaking more. Dr Miller brings his spare hand to wrap around your waist, holding you steady while he continues his ministrations.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for me right now. How do you feel?” He asks.

“Unhhhhnnn, so good, Dr Miller, ahh this is… oooff,” you mumble as he moves the toy into a specific spot that has you seeing stars. Before you realise it, your orgasm has you shaking violently in his arms, you feel your pussy gushing while he maintains the pressure of the vibe on your clit, working your through your orgasm. He presses his strong thighs against yours, holding you there, making you take it.

“Ohhh… hnnnnn, Dr Miller, thank you… that was so good… I haven’t been able to do that for a… ah.. hnnn long time,” you stutter out as he never lets up the relentless pressure on your clit.

“That’s it, good girl,” he praises. “I knew we’d be able to get this sorted.”

Your body heaves every so often spasming with his ministrations. You begin to lower your hands to your lap, to attempt to stop him when he says,

“No, no little girl. We need to keep going. I need to make sure that wasn’t just a fluke. It could be a one off. I don’t want to send you home and not have fully fixed your problem. We keep going.”

He slaps your hands away and brings his big, strong grip up and around your body, pulling you up and squishing your breasts against his body as he manoeuvres you in front of him. He leans back on the exam table and you’re now almost sitting/i> in his lap, legs spread over his thick thighs, your arms leaning back on the table just for something to grip on to. You can feel how big and hard he is behind you.

“Okay sweetheart, that’s it, you’re doing great. I need to keep going to make sure we’ve fixed this here.”

He turns the vibe up to the next level and pushes it back into your clit. You move your hips up and down in his lap, needing more, something, anything. You can feel his cock hardening behind you, wishing he would take it out and actually use that instead of the vibrator.

He keeps pulsing the vibrator on and around your clit. Your cunt is practically swimming in your spend. You hope he will move the vibe down a bit or use his fingers, or another toy. You are feeling so overwhelmed, but also very needy.

As if he can read your thoughts, he asks, “Do you need something else, little girl? Something more?”

“Hgnnnnhhhh, yes, please, Doctor, I need… more.”

Dr Miller smirks as he hears you ask, "Hmmmmmm. Very well then, sweet girl."

He continues his assault on your clit with the vibe and brings his other hand down to your aching cunt. He swirls the copious amount of liquid down there around your tender lips, slowly dipping his fingers in, just a little.

“Have you ever had anything in here before, sweetheart?” He probes.

“Hnnnmmmnh, uh, yeah,” you mumble.

“Tell me what you’ve had in your cunt, sweetheart,” he demands. Again, the vulgar phrasing causing your cunt to tighten.

“Just… just my fingers, Dr Miller. Hnnngh, oh, my fingers, and some toys.”

You see Dr Miller smile in delight at your answer, "Mmmmm, good girl," he says, "That's very... interesting. Some toys, huh? Well, I’m a little preoccupied here right now and can’t reach any of my other toys, so you’re just gonna have to make do with my fingers, alright darling?”

He smirks down at you, the relentless buzzing of the vibrator filling the air. Your poor little clit is feeling very raw and overstimulated, but he doesn’t ever move the vibe away from you.

Clicking it up to the next level, he brings one finger to your clenching hole and pushes in. Despite the lubrication, you’re pretty tight and Dr Miller moans as he pushes his digit all the way in.

His fingers are so long, much longer than yours and he reaches a place that you’ve only been able to reach with toys.

“Good girl, that’s it, taking my finger so well.” He gently kisses your temple as he plays with your pussy.

He pushes another finger in alongside the first and the pressure is intense. The vibe continues on your clit and with one particularly forceful push of the vibe along with his two fingers scraping and pushing inside you, you arch your back and stretch your legs, cumming in Dr Miller’s lap.

“Oh… yes, good girl… that’s it, good girl,” he praises, slowing his fingers and lowering the strength of the vibe, but not completely removing it.

“Oh please, Dr Miller… I can’t.. it’s too much.. aghmnnnnnhhhhh please, stop.”

He looks down at you, smiling gently and moves the vibe in slow circles over your clit. He waits until your eyes meet his and brings his fingers that were inside you up to his mouth, sensuously sucking your juices off his fingers.

“Mmmmm,” he moans, “Delicious.”

He smirks at your widened-eyes and clicks the vibrator up to the highest setting, grounding it harshly into your clit.

The sudden change along with his filthy actions have you cumming again juices pouring out of your cunt, spasming around nothing.

Your body shakes, learning back against Dr Miller as he holds you tightly, gently stroking up and down your arms and sides.

“Good girl, you did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says softly. He finally turns the vibrator off and places it on the exam table next to him.

You start to calm down, only shaking every two or three breaths and Dr Miller leans in and kisses the side of your mouth.

“How are you feeling, honey?” He smiles at you.

You can’t help but grin back. “Ahhhhnnnhh, I feel great, Dr Miller. Thank you.”

He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Well, glad I could be of service,” he says as he gently pushes you up and off him. He stands, and helps you back up to sit at the exam table.

“Wait here, darling, I’m gonna clean you up now, and then we’ll talk about your next appointments.”

He walks over to the little sink on the wall as you smile goofily to yourself, thinking about your next appointments.

Dr Miller comes back with a warm washcloth and spreads your thighs.

You're still panting, your legs feel weak and your whole body is tingling with desire.

Dr Miller smiles at you as he moves between your legs. "So, I think we need to make regular appointments to get on top of this."

You swallow hard and nod, "Yes, please, Dr Miller. I want you to help me with my… problem, please.”

He chuckles darkly.

“Well, based on my assessment today, you’re going to need many appointments to ensure this doesn’t become a bigger issue. We’re going to need to explore different toys, different types of penetration, check you for overstimulation overload, and so much more.”

You nod vigorously while he gently cleans you up.

Once he’s done, he gestures for you to get redressed.

“In the meantime,” he starts, “I’m going to prescribe some at home treatments for you. These will involve using your toys and your fingers, until we figure out more specifically what you need. We may need to do some telehealth appointments in between your coming in here, okay sweetheart?” He asks as he sits at his desk and furiously writes on his pad.

"Yes, absolutely," you say eagerly. Every part of you is tingling after what you just experienced.

You finish getting dressed and wait for him to finish writing out your treatment plan and setting your next few appointments.

“Okay sweetheart,” he says handing you a piece of paper. “Now here are your exercises to try at home. I suggest you also record yourself completing the exercises, that way we can review them to make sure you’re doing them correctly.”

You flush at the thought of not only recording yourself masturbating, but Dr Miller watching it with you and critiquing you.

“Yes, Doctor,” you nod demurely.

“Okay, well I’m so glad we could start to get this sorted for you, Darling. You should have come to see me sooner. It’s not good a pretty young thing like you not getting what you need.”

You nod your head, "I understand, Doctor, thank you."

Dr Miller smiles warmly at you. "I’m here for you, sweetheart. It's my job to help you, and we’re gonna figure this out and make sure you’re feeling all better and healthy, yeah?"

You smile up at him, nodding your head.

Dr Miller hands you a piece of paper, seemingly your checklist and exercises. "Don't forget to record your exercises," he says with a sly grin, "I'll see you next week."

You blush at his words, "Mmmmm, yes, okay, see you next week, Dr Miller."

~~~

Part 2

Masterlist

[ghostfanwriter]

The formatting of this one is so messy, but I fucking love this story. Joel all sick and horny and worried about reader and them showering together and...

To make you feel better 🧽💖

A smutty fic where Joel is sick, and you do your best to help him feel better.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem! Reader.

Setting: Jackson.

🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖

What I listened to while writing this:

💖Kali Uchis - Angel

🧽Kali Uchis - Telepatía (fucking vibes these two)

💖Sabrina Carpenter - Nonsense (because this song is partially about being cockdumb and you can't convince me otherwise. It doesn't pass the vibe check for this, but I listened to it anyway)

🧽Lana del Rey - Ultraviolence (I don't know exactly why, but Ultraviolence just makes me dizzy thinking about Joel. Listen to it watching the interrogation or hospital scenes and tell me I'm fucking wrong.)

Author's note: do yourself a favor and listen to Angel and Telepatía when reading this. Damn they fit the vibe. I had this story cooking on my brain for a long time now, and finally managed to get it out. It's dirty, but it's passionate and I hope you like it 💖. Also, I mention how they met here, and I have this idea where Frank and Bill had a daughter, maybe she arrived with Frank, and reader is her, but I don't know. I have another idea that fits right there and may write it eventually. Let me know what you think ✨

Word count: I think it's around 2.5k.

Warnings: Smut; 18+ only please; p in v, oral sex (male receiving), mention of Joel being sick, no physical description of reader, a bit of fluff there too.

Tell me if I missed something, please ✨

Good reading 🧽💖

🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖

🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖

You leave Ellie on her doorstep and hurry to the house you share with Joel. Your cheeks are burning from the cold and you can barely feel your fingers, even inside Joel's thick gloves that he insisted you would wear outside.

You enter your house, remove a layer of clothes and rush to the guest bedroom. It took a lot - a lot - of persistance to convince him to stay downstairs. He was weak and you didn't want him going up and down the stairs everytime he needed to eat during the three days you went away.

You find him asleep, and if you're being honest, your heart sinks seeing him just laying there. Joel was getting old and, although you knew he would probably die before you, avoiding the thought was one of your main focuses right now.

Sitting at the edge of the bed slowly not to wake him up, you just admire him for a second. The wrinkles forming around his eyes, the little pout on his lips, his brows missing their deep frown. Seeing him in such a vulnerable position felt like a privilege, one that only you and Ellie had. He was soft and open with the two of you, unlike with everyone else, that sees him as a grumpy and even dangerous old man.

Dangerous, you couldn't lie. He is.

But you've seen his wrath. And you know it is only directed towards the people who threatened the ones important to him. You met him when he and Tess started going to your parents house, and with time your relationship develop to what it is today. You've never seen him offer any danger to anyone close to him.

You stroked your hands up his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt, and noticing that he's still a little hot. He hums on his sleep and you try to wake him up. "Joel", you call in a tender whisper. He hums again and wakes up when your hand touches his cheek.

"Hi baby, how are you feeling?" His eyes take a second to focus and process it's you. He is awake on a snap, eyes wide looking at you. A tired and soft smile on his face and a hand on your thigh.

"You ok?" His stare is a bit confusing. You're not sure he is totally there with you, so you keep staring at him.

"Yeah, better now. Missed you." He finally says, like he's out of a spell. "I missed you too." You lean down to kiss him, and he lets you. Your soft and cold lips making him groan and shiver at the same time. His hand pressed harder on your thigh.

"You're still hot, aren't you? Did you shower today?" Caressing your thigh, he takes a while to respond. "Haven't since you left." You stayed out for three days, and Joel kind of got used to not showering often, so you always reminded him to shower at least once a day.

"So gross." You say with a laugh, and he gives you the best, strongest laugh he can. "I'm going to take one, why don't you come with me?" You say leaning down to kiss him again. Running your hands through his hair, you say "Wash this hair, huh? Come with me."

You help him up and you go to the bathroom. You help him undress first. He's a lot better than when you left, but he still struggles to bend and remove his shirt and pants.

"C'mon, you go first." You mention him the shower. "I thought we were showering together." You smile. "We are. But you can't stay out in the cold, so go while I undress."

He goes under the hot water, groaning at how good it feels. You quickly remove your neverending layers of clothes. Getting behind him, felling his body warmer with the added heat of the water.

You rest your cheek on his back for a second, hugging him from behind and just enjoying his presence for a moment. His hands come over yours, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You eventually start showering. He washes your hair, tenderness and love on his touch, massaging and caressing your head as he feels you relax under his touch. Fingers moving slowly and intently, like he was making sure you were really with him, and not outside, by yourself, without him to make sure you were okay.

You washed him, carefully soaping every inch of skin you saw, taking in every muscle and scar he has on his body, leaving an eventual kiss and squeeze along the way. He was with his back turned to you when you were finishing with his hair, and you lowered your hands to finish washing his front. When you reached his stomach, you felt the muscles there contract, and you soon saw why.

He had a hard, pulsing erection formed. It was fully there and God, you missed him.

He had been sick for almost a week and insisted you would keep a bit of a distance not to get sick. You missed his touch, his weight on top of you, his smell invading your nose, his sweat mixing with yours, his sounds, his tastes. You missed him fully, in a way that blurred your mind for a second.

You were brought back to reality when he groaned loudly, your hand firmly stroking him, up and down, slow and savoured movements. Like if going any harder or faster could break him. "Is this okay?" You ask, stopping to wait for his response.

A hand met your lower back, and his head rested lazily back on your shoulder. You got back to your motion, eventually going harder or faster, but keeping an overall steady and passionate rhythm.

Burying your face on his back, you were enjoying this as much as he was. "You always talk about how I'm always ready for you." You say in a whisper. He hums. You didn't lie. Joel was big on his praising game. Always telling how good you were doing and how good you felt.

"But you've never let me down neither." You said with a particularly tight movement of your hands around his tip and then his length.

Then you could swear, even if you felt like your ears were lying to you, that you heard him moan. A different, almost rare sound from him.

He always grunted and groaned, sounds you were deliciously familiar with, that you took as incentive to take him in deeper, or to cum around him again, or to work your tongue around his head one more time.

But a moan was different. It was him being vulnerable and showing his appreciation for what you were doing. His, other times, vocal lips, only spilling honesty right now.

The shower was slippery and Joel too weak to do anything in there. So you stopped your hands, running them up his stomach and kissing his back.

"Let's go to bed, don't want to end all the water, do we?" You said, turning him and receiving openly the kiss he leans down to press on your lips.

You dry his hair and his body, telling him to go to bed. You pat yourself dry and follow him, watching him while he looks at you, appreciating every curve and line your body had.

You lie over him, straddling his hips, his cock warm under your clit. Leaning down to kiss him, you slowly roll your hips, his hands coming to your ass, giving you a strong and deep squeeze.

"Wanna make you feel good, you've been feeling bad for a long time now." You whisper on his good ear when going down to kiss his neck. He hums in response and you start trailing kisses down his chest, then his stomach, and finally, around his cock.

You kiss his base, balls, head and the very tip with open and wet lips. Every inch of him receiving the love you want to give him.

You suck his balls first, softly and slowly. His hand comes to your hair, not pushing or applying any pressure. Just resting there and caressing you the same way he did when washing your hair.

You then lick a zigzag up his length, untill you reach the tip, that you roll your tongue around, slurping on his precum and enjoying the soft and warm felling of his skin when you put it inside your mouth.

You slowly take him inside, letting your droll wet the next inch before sucking him in. "Gonna fucking kill me, angel." He breathes low and you half chuckle, taking the hint and going a bit faster.

Your hand is cupping and rolling carefully his balls, when his breath starts to get quicker. You suck him a bit harder one last time, sucking in your cheeks to feel him fully inside your mouth.

Then you let go. With a wet and loud sound, your lips are open, a thick streak of saliva and precum keeping your lips and his tip connected. You swallow it and go back to straddling him, once again kissing your way back up.

His hands come to your face and he kisses you deeply, passionately. It's a slow and savoured kiss. The kind to make you wish to stop time and just live in for a bit. His warmth and smell sending you deeper into him, he's all that exists right now, and you couldn't imagine a better plane of existence.

You align yourself with his cock, rubbing his tip up and down your folds, circling him around your clit and just putting his head in first. Slowly, you move your hips up and down, just the tip going in and out of you.

His hands come down to your thighs and you break the kiss, holding yourself up to look into his eyes when you fully sink on him. His eyes falter for a second, his lips part and the fucking moan is there again. Blessing your ears and making you mimick his sound. A stretched, nasty and honest sound leaving your own lips.

The kind of moan that has you worried everything with ears could hear.

When you were together you felt like you just wanted to fuse with him. You always hugged him super tight, almost as if trying to merge your bodies and become just one.

Sex was the closest you would ever get to it, and you just loved feeling him inside of you. Just how fucking closer could you be with someone then literally having them inside you?

All these thoughts making you float inside your brain. His warmth, smells, tastes and sounds are everything that you know, and you're more than willing to just swim around the man underneath you.

Your hips instinctively start circling on him. His grip on your hips tightening and helping you move. You start going up and down, watching him while he looks at your body. His eyes deep and tired, but his usual passion and desire making room for themselves on them.

His lips dry and parted, an obscene invitation for you to lean down and lick them, which you're prompt to accept. Keeping your hips movements, circling while going up and down, a clockwork to help him feel every single inch of you, you just let yourself go and fully enjoy the moment.

You kissed again, his name leaving your lips just as much as yours left his. In whispers, whimpers, laughs when you moved just right, and groans that made you see stars.

You went back up, needing him faster and rougher, you support yourself on his chest and just let pleasure guide your movements.

Up and down, circling around. Forward and backwards, rubbing your clit on his cute belly while doing so.

You started to go faster, rougher, jumping higher and trying to ignore the pain on your boobs while you did so.

You tried to hold them with an arm, but Joel didn't like the blocking of his vision, so his hands left your hips and, removing your arm from your boobs, he held them, giving them enough support so they wouldn't hurt, but keeping them fully in sight for him.

You started to feel your orgasm forming and put your left hand besides his head, using your other hand to circle your clit fast and tight. Joel groaned and pulled you high enough that he could take your nipples on his lips.

He sucked hard and...

Oh God.

He just fucking kicked you off the highest cliff possible.

You screamed his name in a way that would absolutely earn you some looks when you step outside your house.

Your body shivered, shook, and moved uncontrollably. His name the only word you could remember, and you felt your pussy literally gushing around his cock.

You lied on top of him for a second. Trying your best to breath again. You were straight up just cockwarming for a bit, while you tried to organize your brain again.

"So fucking pretty, baby. Feel so good around me, squeezing me so well." His words making you clench purposefully around him, wich you kept doing, just pulsing and doing your best to make him feel good while you can't move. "My good... (a clench) Fucking girl."

Oh, to be praised by Joel Miller.

You couldn't help yourself. You needed him with you. And you would do anything to show him how much you wanted it, how much you deserved him with you.

You wanted to make sure he was always happy, always aware that you made him feel better than anyone else.

The fog on your brain started to fade and you slowly returned your movements. At first still laying on top of him, just moving your ass to bring back some friction, and eventually properly moving up and down.

"Circle again baby, like you were doing before. Felt so good." You did as you were told, drawing large and heavy circles with your hips, never letting an inch of him escape from you.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking good for me." His eyes were watching you, the frown back between his eyebrows, but this time motivated only by pleasure. His parted lips letting moans, grunts and deep breaths escape, only moving to repeat your name time after time.

It was all too much for you. You fell down again, taken by the man under you. Only him on your mind, his smile, his hair, his big hands, the sound of his voice.

Your orgasm wasn't just due to the stimulation from this moment. It was because of him.

For him.

It was like your way to pay homage to him, to show him just how much you loved and appreciated him. He was making you cum, not only his cock.

Your jaw was clenched together and your eyes doing their best to keep staring at his. When you were finally over, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm gonna cum, peach. Can't fucking hold it anymore."

You searched for strength on your muscles and got up. Kissing him and quickly reaching for his cock. You grab him and just go right back to it. Taking him as deep as you can, swallowing around his cock to make your throat clench around him, earning a grunt and a hair pull from him.

"Fuck, shit." He's doing his best to last and savour this feeling. His hands squeezing both your hair and the sheets, the veins on his neck about to break his skin and jump out of his body.

"Can't, baby. Gonna f-fucking cum." His warning allowing you to remove a bit of him from your mouth. You suck his head and pump his length, moaning when you feel him twitch inside your mouth.

Joel screams your name and lifts his upper body when he cums inside your mouth. Filling you up more than usually, and oh... You love it, tightening your lips around him to not let any drop escape from you.

"Greedy fucking girl." He says when you remove your full mouth from him, squeezing your lips not to let anything drip. You drink him with the most beautiful facial expression Joel has ever fucking seen, and smile when he laughs lazily at your face.

You look down, noticing there's still some on his cock. You take it back into your mouth and Joel hisses, caressing your hair, once again mimicking the movement from your shower.

Rolling your tongue around his softening tip one last time, you moan and circle it around your lips. Then you lick them and go back up, looking for his lips.

He pulls you down, kissing you in a way he hopes you understand as appreciation.

There you are, laying on top of him, sweating even though you're going through the worst part of winter.

Just you, Joel and your love for each other.

"I love you." You say when breaking the kiss.

"I love you too, more than I could ever explain." His honesty breaks your heart.

You feel the familiar feeling on your guts, the desire to melt into him, to never have to leave this bed again, to never have to experience a second without him.

You lie by his side and rest your head on his shoulder. "Gonna have to take another shower." You say, half laughing, half serious.

"Is it gonna end like the last one? Cause if it is I'm fucking running to the bathroom." He laughs, and you know he means it.

"Gonna be an endless loop, till the end of time." You say and he looks down at you.

"Eternity sounds beautiful by your side." Fuck him, you're so fucking in love.

🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖🧽💖

Can you tell I'm dying over this man? No? Cool.

Nothing to see here.

Feedback, reblogs and cuddles are highly appreciated 👑

Bye besties, see you next time 💖

[ghostfanwriter]

It's the way I'm obsessed with reading your reblogs for me 🤧🩷

🪷

💖 Fluff

❤️‍🔥 Fluff with smut/light smut/not exclusively smut

🔥 Smut

🌵 Angst

🪧 Coming soon

🪷🪷🪷

✨Joel Miller✨

Same Jackson couple:

💦 Where you enjoy kissing Joel a bit too much ❤️‍🔥

Where you ask Joel to spit in your mouth.

🧽 To make you feel better 💖❤️‍🔥

Where Joel is sick, and you do your best to make him feel better.

💫 You focus right here 🔥

Where you give Joel head.

❤️‍🔥 Frustrations 🔥

Where Joel comes home stressed, needing your help.

🍑 The dress 💖🔥

Where you get a dress Joel liked and torture him with it at a solstice party in Jackson.

🔥 To keep your people safe

💖❤️‍🔥🔥

A Raider!Joel Miller x Non-innocent reader two part series.

Joel's group kidnaps you and a few others from your group, and you do your best to keep him happy, and your people safe.

🔥 Safe (Raider!Joel Miller) 🔥

🔥 Safe with him (Raider!Joel Miller) 🔥

🧰 Dirty hands

💖❤️‍🔥🔥

Joel Miller x virgin!Reader

Work in progress

Where Bill adopted reader when she was a baby, days after the outbreak. The only two people she knows are her dads, but Joel Miller ends up being a nice addition to her life. 💖❤️‍🔥🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands 💖❤️‍🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands part two 💖🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands part three - 💖🌵❤️‍🔥🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands part four - 🌵💖❤️‍🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands part five - 🌵💖❤️‍🔥

🧰 Dirty Hands part six 🌵💖

🧰 Dirty Hands part seven 🌵💖

🧰 Dirty Hands part eight final - coming soon 🪧 🌵💖

💐 Single dad

Where the reader meets Joel when he buys his birthday cake on her bakery, and she hires him to do some renovations around the place.

🩷🎂 Part one: Pink Velvet - 💖

✨🥐 Part two: Knead - 💖

Part three - coming soon 🪧

🕜 One shots:

🩷 If we ever broke up, I'd call your dad 🔥

Where Joel's son cheats on you, so you do what you've been dying to: Fuck Joel himself.

🐙 Rough day 🔥

Where Joel, your dad's best friend, catches you masturbating, and knows it'd be too rude to not help you out.

🍓 Strawberries 💖

Where technology got the best of Joel, and he ended up with a ton of strawberries. Now half of them are yours, wether you want them or not.

🪷🪷🪷

✨Dave York✨

🥃 Scotch part one (Dave x Tutor reader) ❤️‍🔥

🍒 Cherry (Dave x Tutor reader) - Part two to Scotch 🥃

☀️ Barbecue (Dave x Tutor reader) 🔥

🧮 A lesson in math (Dave x Tutor reader) Coming soon 🪧

[ghostfanwriter]

Heartbreakingly beautiful is hands down the best compliment I ever got in a story, thank you so much for all the love you've been giving me since the beginning, you're the sweetest 🩷🫶🏻

🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

[ghostfanwriter]

i'm curious 🤔

[ghostfanwriter]

🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

[ghostfanwriter]

it’s canon

[ghostfanwriter]

🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

[ghostfanwriter]

Nothing like someone quoting something 🤧

people who quote lines in the fic comments go to heaven btw. if you care

[ghostfanwriter]

I always wanted to try writing something with reader... Losing control because of Joel's thrusts and... This gave me bad, bad thots 🫠

Cry Harder

Dark!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist (NEW TAG LIST)

A follow up to Keep Cry'n, but you don't need to read it to read this. But you do need to read the warnings lol.

For my event, Dead Dove December which is still open until January 1st, and there's no sign up! Plenty of time to join <3

Summery: While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Non con. Piss kink. Dacryphilia. PIV sex, oral f!recieving. Smoothing via pillow. Threat of murder, threat of necrophilia (Joel's just trying to scare her.) little smacking. Degredation, daddy kink.

Immersabilty: Reader is fem.

1k works

A/N: I'M BACK!!! I'll chat a lil more in the notes at the bottom and be sure to read the housekeeping but thanks for sticking around <3

You don't have to like piss kink but don't make fun of me okay lol

Support writers! Reblog and comment

******************************

“That’s it baby, cry harder”

As if you had much of a choice. Joel had you here for 2 days by this point, and the man was fucking insatiable. He had explained to you, not that you asked, that he goes in and out of “shifts”, essentially. For a few weeks, he raids and stocks up on all he needs. Then, if he’s got somewhere decent to stay, he’ll take a pretty girl for a week or so and just go insane on sex, food, and any drugs or booze he could get. You were well fed at least, and sometimes Joel let you take a few hits of weed or sips of alcohol to numb you, but other than that he wasn’t giving many mercies.

It had been hours at this point, no refractory period except sometimes to go have a smoke, but 5 minutes later he came back hard and thrusting into your swollen lips.

You were exhausted, spread out naked on your back as Joel knelt before you, thrusting. You just wanted it to be over, sobbing into the pillow you pulled over your face.

“Awwww, little babies embarrassed? Wassamatter, little baby, don’t want me to hear you moaning again?” Joel taunted you with a laugh. He liked laughing at you. He did make you moan, that was the embarrassing part. Joel wasn’t necessarily trying to make you cum, but he did get giddy and gleeful when the stretch of his cock was enough to make you orgasm.

You weren’t entirely sure that’s what was happening right now, but something was. “Joel…” You whine into your pillow. “My stomach hurts…”

“Why -thrust- the fuck -thrust- do I care?”

“It feels funny…” You hoped maybe he’d stop if you were sick. Not that he cared about your well being, but rather he wouldn’t want you getting sick all over him. Or maybe he was into that. 

“Just shut the fuck up and -mmmph- just fuck’n take it. Always fuck’n whining like you got a hard job.” Joel smacked a tit, making you whimper and clench down.

Then you realized what the feeling was. “Joel, I gotta- MPH!”

Joel shoved the pillow into your face. “Tired of your fucking voice. ‘Joel I need this, Joel I need that!’” He mocked you in a high pitched voice. “Just shut the fuck up before I smoother you and use your cold pussy instead. Bet the rigor would tight’n you up a bit.”

Fresh tears wet your pillow as you wriggle, trying to keep quiet. You needed to pee. Or maybe you were going to cum. Joel had gotten you pretty drunk this time and his dick jamming into your cervix made everything a little hazy, but you needed to pee, and you needed to pee BAD. Still, the struggle to breath was the first concern. It wasn't cutting off all your hair, but it was getting difficult.

You tried to warm him, but Joel simply kept the pillow over your mouth and he filled you up again and again, thick cock stretching you so far you weren’t sure how you were supposed to be any tighter, but men were never satisfied. The pressure continued to build and suddenly you were very confused; was this an orgasm, pee, or both?

Joel was growing erratic above you, and you wondered if he got off, if this would be it for today. You tried to hold it back, never wanting Joel to have to satisfaction, but the combination of the feeling and Joel in your stomach were too much. Unconsciously, you let go.

Joel stops, not pulling back enough to pull out but enough to see you and you release the warm liquid onto him as you cum. “Oh shit” He chuckles. “Did you squirt?” You remove the pillow the your face to catch him looking at your sore cunt as the liquid isn’t stopping and he realizes what was happening. “Ohhhh fuck!” He says gleefully, thrusting into you with renewed vigor.

“That’s it baby, piss on my cock, ooooooh yes, fuck yes, pee on daddy’s fuck’n cock, mmmmm god, gonna- fuuuuck, gonna cum, gonna cum in daddy’s little piss baby.”

You cover your face with your arms as you crying, sensitive as all hell from cumming hard as you reveal yourself, humiliated but knowing he’s close. Just gotta power through.

Huffing, Joel pressed his hand down on your lower stomach, pushing out more pee as you yelped.

“Goooood DAYUM!” Joel shouts loud in your ear as he cums inside you, filling your tired pussy with his cum.

Joel falls on top of you, laughing, his heavy weight nearly as suffocating as the pillow was. A light cuckold turned louder as he laughed harder and pulled away. As Joel pulled his cock out of your soaked folds, he was all but cackling, derangement in his eyes as he looked at the disaster that was the shitty bed you slept on.

“Such a messy girl…” He eyed your cunt, and you whimper. Joel didn’t go down on you. This was for him to get his dick wet, nothing else…

But soon, his mouth was between your legs, lapping at the mix of cum and piss and sweat between you two, his beard a rubbing irritant against your puffy skin. “Such a pathetic little girl” He muttered between breaths, rutting himself against the bed, and you knew he was hard again. “Fuck’n weird, can’t even keep from making a mess of yourself” He growls, licking you clean. “Fuck’n- ohmygod- fucking disgusting little piss Wh-who-oooooremmmm.” Joel came against the bed, jut as you were about to come again, and pulled away.

You can’t help the way your body wriggles as the “Nooo” You whine, ever so quiet. You hated how much he made you want him sometimes. 

Joel giggles, awfully pleased with himself. “Nah, baby, I’m done with you for now. Maybe next time you’ll learn to appreciate when I give you this cock.” 

Butt naked, Joel exited the room, telling you to clean yourself up. “You smell.”

*************************

TW depression, skip to the bold for romana housekeeping

I havn't posted much outside an occasional Blessed Be the Fruit and if you follow my main, you kno why. This semester has been incredibly hard on me, a genuine deep depression i han't experienced in a long, long time. It was awful. I nearly hospitalized myself a few times and I should have but I am american and not insured. I was not safe, and was a danger to myself.

Yet, somehow, I managed to get my course work done and I finished the semmester on friday ;-; now i have 2 weeks approximately off from work which isnt ideal but hey, traveling and shit. Then for about a month I'll be working back at day care again before coming back for second semmester soooooo im hoping this free time will allow me to catch up on writing and reading

Housekeeping

As linked above, this is for my event dead dove December! It's for the Oscar Isaac/ Pedro Pascal fandom, and we got so many fun entries including lots of Joel, some triple frontier (santi AND frankie) William tell, and soon some Jack from mojave, rydall keener and more!! Would love for you to join me! if you dont wanna write but like dead dove, search #deaddovedecember2023 I didn't realize at the time there was a similar event for the bucky barnes fandom but they have the same hastag, so if you like bucky, check them out too!

Also, i'm gonna be working on a new series once Blessed be the Fruit and a few on my main end, a dark!triple frontier. Check out the coming soon info, and comment if you'd like a tag!

Be sure to join the new tag list, as i changed my tag options just a little!

@m0nster-fvcker @miraclesabound @fandxmslxt69

[ghostfanwriter]

It breaks my heart... But part 7 of dirty hands is now fully written. The good news is I realized it was gonna be way too long, and I had a good hook. So instead of part 7 being the final one, I'm also working (and it's also almost fully written) on part 8!

Friends, I can't wait for you to read them. I put so much heart into them 🤧🩷

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

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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 🩷🩷🫶🏻

[ghostfanwriter]

When I read blackmail I knew I needed more, and when I saw that there was more I... I almost died.

The way Javi is so sexy and Joel is SO dominant, and the way they're so soft and they don't hesitate in stopping if they think they're hurting her and the way they're a little haopy family... Thank you for this story, Milla. I've binged the last three parts, and I know I started my year well with it 💖🫠

4k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Joel Miller Chapt summary: life goes on in the QZ, so does your nights with Joel and Javi Warnings: 18+ mdni. sharing, somnophilia, dvp, dirty talk and heavy degradation (but Joel and Javi are super sweet otherwise, she just wants it), praise kink, size kink, blindfold, rimming, anal, oral (f/m), rough sex, cum eating, creampies a/n: this is it, the final chapter of Blackmail. Thanks for the love on this series. I fell in love with these guys. I hate it when I end a series, so I'm gonna cry in a corner now. @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for everything 💕🫶 Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates Playlist | ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist

Part 3

As Joel had asked you the day before when he came back from Lincoln, you went back to Javi's apartment the next evening. You had cum on their cocks, tongues and fingers so many times that you lost count. They melted you with their praise, sought to please you in every way possible, and as you tried to catch your breath, lying between them on the bed, you were already wondering when they would fuck you again.

Since then, several weeks had passed, and the three of you saw each other so often, that now you knew Javi's body and his reactions, almost as well as Joel's. Sometimes one of them would sit in the chair facing the bed, and watch. There was not an ounce of jealousy or embarrassment. The exchanged stares and the way the bodies shivered were enough to know if the tongue or the fingers sliding over the skin could continue their progression. Everything was smooth between you, including the way they took care of you and fucked you, their four hands sliding over your skin like a perfectly choreographed ballet.

You had slept dozens of nights at Javi's by now. The way he’d taken you in your sleep during the two days Joel had been away, happened countless times again. Joel loved it too, he couldn't get enough of this new, special feeling of sinking into you while you were still sleeping.

You woke up one night, Joel's chest against your back and his cock digging into your pussy which was still full of cum from the night. Javi was licking your clit, your knee resting against his shoulder. You came so quickly, so hard, that Javi rose up hastily to your face, rested his forehead against yours, immediately pressing his cock to your entrance already filled with Joel's cock. You barely had time to say “oh, fuck, what are…” when they looked at each other over your shoulder, and Javi put his hand on Joel’s arm for leverage. You couldn't hold back a moan, saying “oh, god, you're stretching me…” as you felt his cock join Joel's deep inside your pussy, your walls so tight against their shafts.

Joel kissed your neck then nibbled your shoulder, and Javi asked you to look at him every time your eyes began wandering off, his tongue then searched for yours, his other hand holding the back of your head. Their hips were rolling towards you and their hands clung to your waist and hips, the dance of the bodies was natural. Your chest and back were covered in sweat as the minutes passed.

“Hermosa, I want you to do something for us. Will you be a good girl and do as I say?”

“I will, Javi.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and kissed you, praising that you were always so good for them.

“Come on our cocks and make us come by squeezing them. But don’t use your hands.”

“I’m not sure I-”

“You know you can do it, sweetheart,” Joel cut you off. “You came on Javi’s cock like that, when I was in Lincoln. You just need to listen to us and focus on your sensations, alright, darlin’?”

“Ok, ok… I’m gonna try.”

Joel kissed your neck and you grabbed Javi by the shoulders and rested your nose against his. He smelled of cigarettes, whiskey and sex, and you loved all of it. Your right thigh was resting on his waist and your body undulated in time with their coordinated movements. Joel rested his chin on your shoulder. The three of you were so close that you were intoxicated with the sensations you felt, and their moans in your ears.

“Can’t believe you’re taking our two fat cocks so easily, baby. You’re amazing. I love fucking you. It’s so good to share you with Javi.”

You felt your hairs stand up hearing these words. Since you asked Joel to use dirty talk with you, he was now doing it without having to ask him. He was so good at that, always knowing exactly what words to use. You felt your walls begin to contract slightly.

“Shit, you feeling that, Javi?”

“Damn, yeah, Joel… Keep talkin’ to her.”

You were letting them use your body as they wanted, at the pace they wanted, and you trailed along Javi’s cheek with your nose, until you reached his ear. You nibbled on his earlobe, making him groan in turn.

“This little pussy is so tight for our cocks, sweetheart…You're doing so well. Always ready to take them, whenever and wherever we wanna put them. I bet that's all you think about, all damn day: the next time we're gonna fill you up again. You must be wondering which hole we're gonna fuck, which hole we're gonna start with. And whatever it is, you always let us do it, like a perfect fuckdoll.”

You moaned, biting your lip as your eyes locked with Javi’s again. 

“Answer me, sweetheart. Tell me what it feels, to have your husband’s cock, and your lover’s cock, in our pussy? Our pussy, baby. Not yours. Not anymore. You know you’re ours, right?”

He bit your shoulder to let you know he wanted you to answer.

“Yes!! Yes, Joel.”

“Yes, what, sweetheart?” His hands were tight on your hips and he couldn’t help but pick up the pace inside you. The sensations of the two cocks in your pussy made you almost incapable of speaking, or even thinking.

“I’m yours. Both of you. My pussy’s yours.”

“You’re damn right. And what about your other holes, baby?”

“....all yours.”

“Which one are we talkin’ about?”

“Fuck…mouth. My throat.”

He put his hand around your throat and squeezed, making you choke.

“You know I love to watch your throat, when one of our dicks is stuck in it?”

“God…yes…I know, Joel.”

“And are you forgetting something, Hermosa?”

“Shit… yes! My ass.”

“You know, Joel told me how it felt to be buried in this tiny hole, and now my big cock can’t wait for the day when I’ll be balls deep in your tiny asshole. I’m sure you’re desperate for it too, right?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes Javi…Fuck..I can’t wait. Oh fuck Javi!”

“Sorry baby, my cock twitched, thinking about it. Now, tell us whose ass is this, Hermosa?”

“My ass is yours. Both of you.”

“Look at that, Joel. Look at that perfect little slut. Look how much she loves it, how she can take it all.”

“I think our little pussy is gonna milk our cocks soon. I’m sure she wants our load in her, at the same time, while she’s squeezing us.”

You felt your orgasm coming and you dug your nails into Javi’s shoulders, just having the ability to say “Fuck…gonna come,” and you froze on their cocks, your body twitching without you being able to stop it. Without even realizing what was really happening.

“Damn, sweetheart…. oh God…”

They tensed inside you at the same time, and their squirts of cum sent deep in your pussy were the only thing capable of helping you regain your senses.

You let them use your body one last time, while they held onto it, as if they wanted to stay inside you as deeply as possible. When your gasps stopped, you finally removed your nails from Javi’s flesh. You didn’t even realize how deep you had dug them into his skin.

Joel kissed your shoulder, and you felt him release his grip on your hips and slowly pull out, followed right after by Javi.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes Joel, more than ok”, you replied, smiling.

“Damn, that was amazing, Hermosa.” Javi smiled back, brushed your nose with his and kissed it. He put his arm under your head and pulled you closer, your face nuzzling the crook of his neck.

You laid your hands against Javi’s torso, as Joel laid his around your waist. You fell back asleep, their cum starting to leak onto the sheets.

You had gotten to the point where you two were sleeping at Javi’s almost every night. Even when he worked night shifts, you would come to his place after work. Joel would fuck you in his bed, and Javi loved to come home from his shift, the smell of sex filling his bedroom, and he would settle between your legs to fuck you too.

You were never tired of it. Feeling them inside you, one or the other, made you feel more alive than ever. They were your lifeline, in this post-apocalyptic world where everything was gray, restricted, closed, conditioned by the sirens of the QZ. But when you joined them in the evening, life was normal again. Nothing was constrained, only the pleasure of three people counted. Every day you were blessing Joel for being so open minded and loving, as you were blessing Javi for finding his place naturally with you and Joel. 

You woke up and stretched like a cat while they were still asleep. You turned to Joel, and like every time your eyes landed on him, you fell even more in love with him.

Joel was your moral and physical support since the day you met. He was reliable, faithful, honest, responsible. His shoulders and his arms were always there to envelop you when you needed it. During your runs out of the QZ, he had killed countless runners, stalkers, clickers. He had even killed a bloater. He could use all weapons: gun, knife, machete, rifle. Brick. 

He had killed a lot of men too. Anyone who was a threat. 

Once, both of you fell into a trap set by raiders. You thought you saw your last day coming. Or rather, worse, your last day as a free woman. They made no secret of what they were planning to do to you as soon as they brought you back to their camp. Joel slaughtered them, driven mad by what they had said about you. Hazardous and in shock, sitting on the ground, unable to move, you witnessed his violence with relief. He rushed towards you after killing them. His face, his arms, his shirt, were covered in blood. He knelt in front of you and covered you with his jacket, telling you that he was there, that he would never abandon you, and never let anyone hurt you.

Lying in bed, you shivered thinking back about that moment.

Then you turned to Javi.

Like Joel, you hated his attitude when you first met him. So confident, sassy and insolent. You couldn't believe that someone was blackmailing you, could have a hold on Joel like that. Forcing you to give him your body. You didn’t tell Joel, but you felt so nauseous before you first went into Javi’s apartment. And then… you discovered a personality totally different from the one you thought you knew. He was tender, playful, generous and incredibly sensual. Reliable, too. Like Joel.

You thought back to the phrase he had said that day in his apartment, the phrase that had triggered the turn of your relationship, leading you to today. “Wanna join us, Miller?”

Your eyes still fixed on him, you admired his profile. His nose, his mustache, his sharp jaw, his neck. You still didn't know what could have led him to blackmail you. Was it the challenge of facing someone like Joel? The thrill?

It didn't matter now.

When you got home from your shift, Joel and Javi were already at the apartment, drinking whiskey.

“Started without me?”, you asked, hanging up your coat against the door.

“For the first part, yes,” Javi replied, smiling.

"First part?" you asked, taking the glass Joel handed you.

“Don’t be impatient, sweetheart,” Joel added, kissing your forehead after he took you in his arms.

You all finished your glasses, and you couldn't wait to find out what they had planned. Javi stood up and asked you to follow him into the bedroom. He held you there in his arms for a few moments, as you had become accustomed to by now. Your affection was no longer dedicated only to Joel, it was shared with Javi as well. It happened naturally, and Joel was fine with that.

Joel joined you a few minutes later, and they undressed you, as they did so often, taking turns kissing you. Once you were naked, Javi took a scarf out of one of his dresser drawers and covered your eyes.

“We want you to focus only on your emotions, and forget who’s fucking you, or who you are blowing. Is that okay, Hermosa?”

You gave them a big smile, and replied “Yes, sure. I love your idea, guys.”

“Perfect.”

Javi kissed your forehead, took your hand and led you to the bed. You lay there on your back, waiting for what was gonna happen next. You focused on the sounds you heard: clothes being taken off. The first drawer of the dresser - the one where the lube was stored. You already felt your pussy clenching.

Each side of the bed sank under their weight. A hand caressed one of your breasts, and a mouth came to place kisses on your neck. One of them placed his lips around your nipple, and swirled his tongue over it. Their hands roamed your body, and they were right, it made you focus more on your emotions. The bed rose when they both got out before taking place again.

Hands rested on your thighs, and the tip of a cock pressed against your mouth. You parted your thighs and your lips at the same time, letting them dispose of you as they wanted.

The cock sank into your mouth without waiting, and a mouth rested against your pussy, the tongue diving into your core. The tongue gave way to a cock, sinking into you slowly. They took turns regularly, of fucking your mouth and pussy. They praised you with their atta girl, good girl, and you came on a cock, not knowing which one, your clit rubbing against a lower belly. 

Then you felt the atmosphere change. Softness gave way to animality, as moans, growls and a smell of sweat filled the room. They got up from the bed, and the scarf was removed from your eyes. Joel and Javi were standing, naked, on opposite sides of the bed. Their cocks hard, glistening with your saliva and your wetness.

Javi went to sit in the chair facing the bed, and Joel told you to get on all fours. He  caressed your back, from your neck to your waist, and said “You know I love you sweetheart, right?”

“Yes, of course, Joel.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna fuck you like I don't.”

Your eyes widened when you heard him.

He placed a hand on one of your shoulders and his cock at your soaked hole, thrusting in immediately. Even though they had been stretching you since the beginning of the evening, you couldn't hold back a cry when his cock bottomed out. He didn't give you time to regain your senses, both of his hands now clinging to your shoulders and taking leverage roughly. You turned your head towards Javi, who was jerking off. You knew by the way his fingers were holding his cock that he didn't want to cum. Not yet. You wondered how he was going to fuck you.

“You can’t stop looking at Javi, even when my cock is ruining your pussy? Fuckin’ hell. You’re such a whore, baby.”

You turned your head towards the headboard, but Joel grabbed your neck with his hand, forcing you to look back at Javi.

“No no. Wanna look at him? Then look, sweetheart. I want him to see you bite your lip and close your eyes, each time my fat cock sinks into you.”

You moaned as you stared at Javi, Joel's hand still gripping your neck tightly, and Javi's cock twitching, hearing Joel.

“We're gonna have to stop cumming in her pussy soon. Stock of morning after pills is almost out. If she gets pregnant we won't even know who the father is. Because she’s a slut who loves to get filled by our two cocks. But it doesn't matter, she'll swallow our cum and we'll fill that ass.”

His degradation made you lose your mind. This Joel was so different from the other Joel, who was so attentive, caring and gentle. You loved both and needed both, now.

Joel was fucking you hard, and you didn’t know if he had ever fucked you that hard before. His excitement was so animalistic, that you felt even more dominated. He pulled out and you felt the bed dip further as Joel stood on it, then squatted down, gripping your waist before thrusting into you. As if he had felt that you too wanted to feel as animalistic as possible. The position allowed him to fuck you even deeper and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You saw Javi lean back in his chair, saying “Joel, wait”, and Joel stopped.

“No, no! I’m ok…don’t stop please, don’t stop. I know I must look like a wreck but don’t stop please, I’m ok. I’m ok.” 

You didn’t want Joel to stop, thinking it was too much. Too many sensations, too much stimulation. Some pain? But you wanted to keep feeling all this. You wanted to feel alive. And at the same time, your heart melted for Javi, so attentive and caring. You wondered what you had done to deserve those two men. You looked at Javi, and you said again “I’m ok.” Javi nodded towards Joel. Hands tight on your waist, he sank back into you. Then picked up his pace and thrust, now chasing his own pleasure. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you looked at Javi again. Thinking he wasn't done with you, and wondering how he would use you.

“Fuck… gonna fill you up. I…Oh fuck.”

Joel came, buried in your pussy and hands frozen on your waist, saying “good girl… good fuckin’ girl” and he collapsed on his back next to you, before quickly getting up and asking you if you were okay, worrying that he might have gone a little too far, physically or with his words. You leaned towards him and reassured him before kissing him.

Then you looked at Javi.

“Do you think you can take me, Hermosa?”

You nodded.

“I need you to answer me, baby.”

“I can take you, Javi. I’m ok.”

“Back on all fours, then.”

Javi slowly stood up, taking his time to join you.

He knelt behind you and spread your ass with his hands. You thought he was going to eat your ass to prepare it, but to your surprise you felt his mouth rest against your pussy and his tongue roam in your folds. He licked you, as if he was starving, cleaning you of your wetness and Joel’s cum. You had perhaps never felt something so sensual, a man eating you while you were full of another man's cum.

You leaned on your forearms to make it easier for him to access your pussy. He grunted into your folds, and you heard his wrist fuck his cock. His tongue was now going from your hole to your clit, making your pleasure rise.

“Javi… I’m gonna cum again.”

Joel reached up and grabbed your chin. He wanted to watch you cum. He didn’t have to wait for long, spasms were seizing you a few minutes later, Javi’s tongue against your clit and two of his fingers buried in your pussy.

When your shaking stopped, Javi licked his way up to your ass. He pressed the tip of his tongue against it, then swirled it around to soften your ring. Spreading your ass cheeks, he licked it in long strokes, his tongue flat, before getting up and going for the lube. Joel rose up just long enough to spit on your ass, and lay back down next to you.

Javi opened the bottle and applied some lube to your ring, mixing it with Joel’s saliva, inserting one finger, then quickly a second one. He applied some lube on his cock and positioned himself behind you.

“Are you ready for me, Hermosa?”

“Yes, Javi, I am. Do it.”

He pressed against your entrance and pushed lightly. You felt the muscle resist at first, then move aside to allow passage. His tip buried itself and you groaned. He hadn't prepared you completely, aware that tonight you needed to feel things.

You clenched the sheets in your fists, as Javi continued to thrust in. He was taking his time. You knew he wanted to enjoy the feeling of discovering that last place of you that he hadn’t yet possessed. When only his balls remained at your entrance, and when he froze deep, you closed your eyes and gasped, saying “oh my god, Javi…I…fuck you’re so big.”

He spread your ass with his hands, and looked at his cock buried in it. You turned your head towards Joel, his eyes fixed on you, and he said “you’re amazing, baby. We’re so lucky to have you. Aren’t we, Javi?”

“We are, damn…you’re a blessing, Hermosa.”

He pulled back slowly and thrust in again.

“Wait…I wanna cum, with you in my ass Javi. But I need your help Joel, I have no more strength in me to do it by myself.”

“Tell me what ya need, sweetheart.”

“Come lie under me.”

Joel slid under you and you straddled him, Javi still buried inside you. You laid against Joel and started rubbing your clit against his cock. He was only semi-hard, but the pressure was enough for you to feel your orgasm building. Javi's thrusts were still slow and deep, letting you find your own rhythm, to rub your clit against Joel the way you needed it.

“I’m fucking hard again… keep going, sweetheart.”

Your folds were surrounding his cock and your clit was rubbing against it.

“You’re so hot, baby, using me like that. Soon you’re gonna come against my cock, right?”

You nodded in agreement, just before cumming, your clit pressed to his shaft. Exhausted, all your muscles relaxed as you leaned against Joel's chest. Javi sped up his movements slightly, and that triggered Joel's orgasm a few minutes after yours. His cum squirted onto his lower stomach, between your bodies. 

Javi continued to thrust, faster and faster. Your body was just a doll, and you were letting him take what he needed. 

“I've been wanting to fuck your ass for so long. It's even better than I imagined, Hermosa.”

He slowed down, and almost stopped moving. Then he thrust in again, slowly, but powerfully. Beneath you, Joel was stroking your hair, your nose was buried in his neck. You murmured "it's good, Joel. So good." And he replied, "I know, baby. You're doing great. Such a good girl. You take it so good."

You heard Javi moan again, and he said “I’m gonna cum Hermosa…Fuck.”

His hands clinging to your waist, he thrusted one last time and came deep inside your ass. This time you couldn't hold back your tears anymore. Joel grabbed your face in his hands, worried you’d be in pain, and Javi pulled away.

“I’m ok… It was just intense. So intense. I loved it, every second." You kissed Joel and caressed his cheek, smiling. You were exhausted, but you were ok.

You laid down and Javi pressed himself against you, then he brushed your nose with his, and kissed it. You smiled. 

Once again you were lying between them. These two men you loved. You had never told your feelings to Javi but it was burning your lips and devouring your heart. You rose up and sat on your heels, looking at them.

“I love you. Both.” You looked at Javi, and you knew he felt the same, you could read it in his eyes. He nodded and smiled. He knew it wasn't the time to say it back to you, that Joel needed to process what you had just said.

Then you looked at Joel. Worried about what he might think, worried about hurting him, but you couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer.

But once again, Joel amazed you. He smiled, and replied, "I know, sweetheart. Of course you love him. How could you not? I'm happy that Javi’s here to take care of you too, to protect you if needed. And I know your heart is big enough for the both of us.” 

He turned to Javi, then to you, and said “it’s ok. We’ll be ok. The three of us.”

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