#convict!joel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stylesispunk · 5 months ago

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"You're the loss of my life" | part 2.

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part one here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers. In the aftermath, some scars hadn't healed. w.c: 12,9k (longest piece of writing I've ever written) warning: some fluff, angst HEAVY angst, mentions of dead, mentions of blood. Some events of the game will be mentioned here but they are not the same. Please forgive any grammar mistakes, since this one is so long I didn't check on everything. Paragraphs in cursive contain flashbacks. a/n: Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to part 1, I Swear I can't put into words how wonderful was to read all your comments and thoughts. This part ended up being totally different from what I started writing but is already here, please feel free to comment or share your thoughts with me, I'm really excited to read what you think! Happy reading p.s, there is a a/n at the end :)

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You hadn’t counted the hours, nor the seconds after it happened. The pictures of blood and yelp were the only things ringing in your ears as a solemn sound taunting your worst nightmares, which became real.

Your face was dry from the salty tears dripping from your eyes

“It’s done.” Tommy said, tone somber as they look on his eyes.

Neither you or Joel spoke. He was still, 5 ft away from you, his arms red from the blood drying on his skin.

Sarah’s blood.

Your painful sob broke the stillness that was suffocating you three in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped out by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall on your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped your arms around you

Your painful sob broke the stillness that suffocated the three of you, in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped apart by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall to your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped his arms around you, trying to offer some semblance of comfort in a world that had suddenly become so cruel and unforgiving.

Joel remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the ground, his mind seemingly a million miles away. The weight of his grief was a palpable thing, a dark cloud that hung over him, suffocating and relentless.

As Tommy held you, you looked over at Joel, searching for some sign that he was still there, that he was still the man you had loved and married. But all you saw was a broken shell, a man consumed by his own despair.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “We need to be strong. For Sarah. For each other.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze never leaving the ground. The silence stretched on, a heavy, oppressive thing that threatened to crush you both.

Tommy tightened his grip around you, his own grief evident in the lines of his face. “We’ll get through this,” he said softly, though his voice lacked conviction. “We have to.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure you believed him. The world had become a dark and terrifying place, and you didn’t know how to find the light again.

But as you looked at Joel, you knew that you couldn’t give up. You couldn’t let Sarah’s death be the end of everything. You had to find a way to keep going, to find a reason to keep fighting.

For her. For Joel. For yourself.

And so, as you knelt there in the grass, your heart heavy with grief, you made a silent vow. You would survive. You would find a way to live in this new, terrifying world.

Because you had to. Because there was no other choice.

Another night had enveloped the sky, the darkness a heavy blanket that seemed to press down on you from all sides. You had fallen asleep—or at least that’s what Joel and Tommy thought—as you lay curled up under a thin blanket near the dying embers of the campfire. The exhaustion from the day’s events had left you physically drained, but your mind remained restless, haunted by the images of Sarah and the relentless march of time.

The quiet murmur of Joel and Tommy’s conversation floated over to you, their voices low and filled with an unspoken tension. You kept your eyes closed, not wanting to intrude, but unable to help listening in.

“I just don’t know how to move on,” Joel’s voice was a strained whisper, thick with pain. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. I hear her voice.”

Tommy’s response was equally quiet, a comforting murmur in the darkness. “We’ll get through this, Joel. It’s hard, I know, but we’ll find a way.”

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke again, the words tearing at your heart. “I should have saved her, Tommy. I should have done something.”

“You did everything you could,” Tommy insisted, his voice firm. “There was nothing more you could have done.”

Joel’s reply was almost inaudible, a broken confession that sent a chill down your spine. “If she hadn’t been there...if I hadn’t had to worry about her...maybe I could have saved Sarah.”

He was talking about you.

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Joel’s words hanging heavily in the air. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as you lay there, paralyzed by the enormity of what you had just heard.

Tommy’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it, a protective anger that surprised you. “You don’t mean that, Joel. You can’t blame her for what happened. It’s not fair.”

Joel’s sigh was a long, drawn-out sound, filled with resignation and regret. “I know it’s not fair. But I can’t help it, Tommy. I look at her, and all I see is what I lost. All I feel is this...anger. And I hate myself for it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. The pain of Joel’s words was a sharp, physical ache, a knife twisting in your gut. The man you loved, the man you had always relied on, felt you were a burden, a reason for his greatest loss.

Tommy’s voice softened, a gentle plea. “You need to talk to her, Joel. You both need each other now more than ever. Don’t let this tear you apart.”

There was a long pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can, Tommy. I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

The tears finally escaped, silent trails down your cheeks as you lay there, feeling more alone than you ever had. The love you had once shared with Joel felt like a distant memory, a fragile thing that had shattered under the weight of your loss.

The next morning dawned bleak and gray, the sky a canvas of muted clouds. You woke early, the remnants of Joel and Tommy's conversation from the night before echoing in your mind. The pain and betrayal still stung, a constant reminder of how much had changed in such a short time. You quietly gathered your things, making sure not to wake them as you slipped away from the camp.

You needed time alone, a chance to clear your head and process the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. The forest surrounding the camp was thick and dark, a labyrinth of trees and shadows that offered a temporary escape from the crushing reality of your grief.

Hours passed as you wandered aimlessly, the solitude a bitter comfort. You tried to make sense of Joel's words, to understand the depth of his pain and the burden of his guilt. But the hurt was too fresh, too raw, and all you could feel was the aching void where your heart used to be.

When you finally returned to the camp, Joel was waiting for you, his expression a storm of worry and anger. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. "You can't just walk off like that!"

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling beneath the surface. But the words wouldn't come. You felt too empty, too drained to respond. The memory of his confession hung between you like a dark cloud, a silent reminder of the chasm that had opened up between you.

Joel's anger faltered as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding. He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Please, don't do that again. I can't... I can't lose you too."

Still, you remained silent, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him how much his words had hurt, how deeply they had cut you. But the pain was too great, the wound too fresh.

Seeing your silence, Joel's face crumpled, the anger giving way to a deep, abiding sorrow. He reached out, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

You stood there, enveloped in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. But the sadness was a heavy weight in your chest, a barrier that kept you from fully returning his embrace. The words he had spoken the night before replayed in your mind, a constant reminder of the distance that now lay between you.

For the sake of your marriage, for the fragile hope that someday things might be different, you decided to pretend. To bury the hurt and the anger deep inside, to put on a brave face and move forward as best you could.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Joel with tear-filled eyes. "Let's just... let's just try to get through this," you said softly, your voice trembling. "One day at a time."

Joel nodded, his expression a mix of relief and regret. "One day at a time," he echoed, his grip tightening around you as if afraid to let go.

Four months had gone by in mere seconds. The story you and Joel carefully built waltzed into flames, and you didn’t look back after that house was set on fire. You had made your point clear, and you kept an oath in your words. You avoided Joel and forced yourself to pretend he didn’t exist. He became just a stranger you once shared your bare soul and body with.

It was not easy. Not for you, not for him. Your feelings were far from being buried, but in the midst of chaos, you couldn’t allow yourself to die from his words. A man falling out of love with you wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to you.

During the time your garden dried of thirst, a new arrival to Jackson caught your attention. A man. Dr. Matt Carter was a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man with a gentle demeanor and a wealth of medical knowledge. His arrival brought fresh air to the whole community. With his skills and charm, you found yourself drawn to his quiet compassion for others, as if this reeked world hadn’t corrupted him into becoming just a gosht of what he once was.

And you found yourself looking for that.

You and Matt had spent time together, sharing stories, sharing time, and the scars that had wounded both of your hearts. He lost his family during the first days of the outbreak, and you had lost yours somehow. His presence brought warmth to your soul; there was a tentative connection born from respect and understanding, hitting you like a wave.

And as if you were falling for another man, Joel watched from afar; his expression remained unreadable every time he had a glimpse of you in town. The sight of you smiling, genuinely smiling after everything he had put you through, stirred something within him—a mix of longing and regret that he had taken you for granted.

He had taken you for granted. He realized that now was far too late. His actions and choices had driven a wedge between you, and now he was paying the price. You had moved on; you had found someone who could offer you the warmth and kindness he had failed to provide. And he was left with the ashes of a life he had burned down with his own hands.

Ellie had become distant, her eyes reflecting a hurt and disappointment that cut Joel to the core. She no longer sought his guidance or comfort, retreating into her world, leaving him more isolated than ever. And Sophie... Oh god, Joel couldn't even bear to stomach her. The guilt and shame were too overwhelming, a constant reminder of his betrayal, but as he followed the figment of his worst intentions inside his head, he ended up in the same bed with her almost every night.

Every night, the guilt clawed at him as he sought solace in Sophie's arms, trying to escape the suffocating regret that consumed him. He hated himself for it, for betraying you even further, but he was trapped in a cycle of self-destruction that he couldn't seem to break free from.

One night, after another argument with Ellie that ended with her storming off, Joel found himself once again in Sophie's bed. The familiarity of her touch did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Instead, it only deepened the chasm of regret and self-loathing that threatened to swallow him whole.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his choices pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep hurting you, hurting himself, and destroying everything that had once been good in his life.

He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Sophie, and dressed quickly. He needed to clear his head to find some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of his emotions. He wandered the dark streets of Jackson, the cold night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it.

His thoughts were a tangled mess of regret and longing, and he found himself standing outside your house, the warm glow of the lights inside casting a soft halo around the doorway. He could see you through the window, laughing with Matt, and the sight of your happiness was like a knife to his heart.

He turned away, unable to bear it, and walked aimlessly until he found himself at the edge of the community, where the world beyond Jackson's walls loomed dark and foreboding. He sat down on a bench, his head in his hands, and let the tears fall.

"Hey."

Joel looked up to see Tommy approaching, his expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "What are you doing out here, Joel?" Tommy asked, sitting down beside him.

Joel shook his head, unable to find the words to explain the turmoil inside him. "I can't keep doing this, Tommy," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion. "I can't keep hurting everyone."

Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "You gotta find a way to make things right, Joel. For yourself and for them."

Joel nodded, but the path to redemption felt impossible to navigate. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted.

"Start by being honest," Tommy said gently. "With yourself and with them. It's the only way you're going to find any kind of peace."

Joel sighed, knowing Tommy was right, but the thought of facing you, of admitting everything, filled him with a deep sense of dread. Still, he knew he couldn't keep running from his mistakes. He had to face them head-on, no matter how painful it might be.

The morning air was crisp and cool as Joel and Tommy walked toward the communal dining hall. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden glow over the town of Jackson. Joel's mind was heavy with the conversation from the night before, but he knew Tommy was right. He had to start making things right, even if it felt impossible.

As they entered the dining hall, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and a cooked breakfast greeted them. The room was filled with the chatter of early risers, everyone eager to start their day. Joel's eyes scanned the room, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw you.

You were standing by the serving area, helping with the morning tasks. Your smile was warm as you handed a plate to one of the residents, your laughter ringing out softly. It was a sound Joel hadn't heard in a long time, and it struck him with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.

Tommy nudged Joel gently. "She's been helping out in the mornings," he explained quietly. "Trying to stay busy, I think."

Joel nodded, his gaze fixed on you. He hadn't seen you like this in months—so alive and vibrant—and it filled him with a mix of longing and regret. He wanted to go over to you to talk, but the weight of his mistakes held him back.

"Come on," Tommy said, leading him to an empty table. They sat down, and Tommy grabbed two mugs of coffee from a passing tray, handing one to Joel. "You should talk to her," he urged, his voice low and earnest. "It's not going to get any easier."

Joel watched as you handed out another plate, your smile lighting up the room. Just as he mustered the courage to stand up and walk over to you, Matt appeared at your side. The doctor wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple, a gesture so intimate and familiar that it made Joel's heart ache.

He froze, his intentions crumbling. The warmth and ease between you and Matt were unmistakable, a stark contrast to the cold distance that had grown between you and Joel. Tommy, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor, followed his gaze and sighed.

Joel didn’t know, but your heart felt heavy at the sight of him, weighed down by a complicated mix of emotions. Seeing him standing there, so vulnerable and sincere, had stirred something inside you that you had tried to bury for months.

You tried to focus back on Matt, his kind eyes filled with spark. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly, his hand gently touching your arm.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah.”

Matt gave you a reassuring smile. "Take your time," he said. "I'm here if you need to talk."

You appreciated his support, but your thoughts were consumed by Joel. Despite everything that had happened, the sight of him standing there, so lost and full of regret, tugged at your heartstrings. You remembered the man he used to be man you had fallen in love with.

As you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, your gaze kept drifting back to Joel. He was sitting with Tommy, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. The sight of him like that broke your heart all over again. You could see the pain etched into his features, the remorse and longing that mirrored your own feelings.

The memories of your life together flooded back—moments of joy, field dreams, and quiet nights. It was hard to reconcile those memories with the man who had hurt you so deeply. Yet, despite everything, a part of you still cared for him and still wanted to believe that there was a chance for redemption.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Four more months passed; that meant you and Joel hadn’t spoken to each other in eight months, and that was everything you could think about. The silence between you had become a constant, oppressive presence in your life. Despite your best efforts to move on, Joel's absence was a gaping wound that refused to heal. During this time, your relationship with Matt has grown closer. He had become a steady presence in your life, offering you kindness and understanding in a world that often felt devoid of both.

So, as these months went by, doubts began to creep into your mind. Every time you were with Matt, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The shadow of your past with Joel loomed large, casting a pall over your attempts to forge a new chance.

Winter was fast approaching, and Jackson was bustling with preparations for the colder months. That night, the town had organized a party. The community gathered in the large hall, the warmth of the fire and the sound of music creating a temporary respite from the harsh reality outside.

You were with Matt, trying to enjoy the festivities, but the weight of your unresolved feelings made it difficult to fully immerse yourself in the celebration. You found yourself glancing around, half-expecting to see Joel in the crowd, even though you knew it was unlikely.

Matt noticed your distraction and leaned in closer, his brow furrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but tinged with worry.

You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm just thinking about everything that's happened."

Matt's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I know it's been tough, but we're here now. Together."

"I appreciate you spending time with me," Matt said, his eyes warm and sincere. "It's been easy adjusting to everything here, but your company has made it even easier."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad we met, Matt. You've been a great help to all of us, and it's nice to have someone to talk to."

You squeezed his hand, appreciating his support, but the doubt still lingered. As the night wore on, you tried to push your feelings aside and focus on the present, but it was a losing battle.

Later in the evening, you and Matt found a quieter corner of the hall. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. "I've been meaning to talk to you," he began, his voice serious.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the conversation you knew was coming.

"I care about you a lot," Matt continued, "and I want to take this relationship to the next level. But I need to know if you're truly ready for that."

Your heart clenched at his words. You wanted to be ready to move forward and leave the past behind, but doubt gnawed at you. "Matt, I don't know if I can," you admitted, your voice trembling. "There's so much I haven't dealt with, and I don't want to hurt you."

Matt's expression hardened, and he pulled his hand away. "I can't keep waiting forever," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I've been patient, but it feels like you're still holding onto something—or someone."

The truth of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been holding onto Joel, to the memories and the pain. You couldn't deny it any longer. "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't ignore my feelings."

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand, but I can't keep doing this. I need someone who is all in, not someone who's still tied to their past, nor someone who wants to sleep with me."

Before you could respond, he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone in the corner of the hall. The weight of your unresolved feelings and the consequences of your indecision pressed down on you, and you felt more lost than ever.

You stood up, needing some fresh air, and walked out of the hall. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself and took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts.

The night was clear, the stars twinkling above you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the full weight of your emotions. You knew you couldn't keep running from the past, but facing it felt like an insurmountable task.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder where Joel was and if he was struggling with the same unresolved feelings that haunted you.

Because you thought he deserved it.

The dim light from the streetlamp outside your window casts long shadows across the room, its faint glow barely illuminating the small apartment. You had fallen into a restless sleep, your dreams plagued by memories of the past and fears of the future. The mattress beneath you was thin and uncomfortable, and the scratchy blanket offered little warmth against the cold reality of the world outside.

The sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist jolted you awake. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you were disoriented, caught between the remnants of a dream and the harshness of reality. You tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary, but then you recognized the familiar touch and the scent that belonged to Joel.

"It's just me," he whispered, his voice rough and weary. The tension in your body eased slightly, but the unease remained.

"Where were you?" You asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the worry evident in your tone. "It's past 2 AM."

Joel sighed, his breath warm against the back of his neck. "Out scavenging," he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We needed more supplies, and I couldn't sleep."

You turned to face him, your eyes searching for his in the dim light. The lines of worry and fatigue etched into his face were more pronounced, a testament to the weight he carried on his shoulders. "You can't keep doing this, Joel," you said softly, your hand resting on his cheek. "You need to rest too."

"I know," he admitted, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. "I just... I can't stop thinking about everything. About Sarah, about you, about how we're going to survive."

Your heart ached at his words. The pain of loss and the burden of survival were constant companions in your lives. "We'll get through this," you said, your voice filled with a determination that belied your own fears. "Together."

Joel's eyes opened, and he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But I'm so damn grateful you're here."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We're in this together," you repeated, your voice firm. "No matter what."

You had never told him you had heard the words.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate intensity, as if he feared losing you too. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest; the shared rhythm was a reminder that, despite everything, you were still alive and still fighting.

As you lay there in the darkness, holding each other close, the world outside the tiny apartment seemed to fade away.

You stood there, staring up at the night sky, lost in your thoughts. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you welcomed the sharpness. It kept you grounded and reminded you that you were still here, still feeling, even if every emotion seemed to tear at you from the inside.

A voice broke through your reverie, soft but unmistakable. "It's a clear night, right?"

Startled, you turned to see Joel standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the moonlight, and his eyes held a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own.

After eight months, you were there face-to-face.

"Joel," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged slightly, the motion almost imperceptible. "I needed some air. I saw you out here. I thought maybe you could use some company."

You looked back up at the sky, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm not sure I can handle this conversation right now."

Joel took a step closer, his presence both comforting and suffocating at the same time. "I don't want to push you," he said softly. "I just felt like you might need someone to talk to."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet night. "Talk? What is there to say, Joel? Everything's so messed up."

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I know. I never wanted things to end up like this. I messed up more than I can ever make right."

You shook your head, feeling the sting of tears again. “You ruin everything.”

No more words came out of his mouth, and you closed your eyes, hoping he would leave you alone.

"How long?" Joel asked finally, his voice breaking the silence. "How long have you been with the doctor?”

You looked at him, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. "We're just friends, Joel. He helps me cope with everything. But it's not what you think."

Joel's shoulders slumped, relief mingling with the guilt in his eyes. "I don't know what I think anymore," he admitted. "I just know that I can't keep pretending like this doesn't hurt. Seeing you with him reminds me of what I lost. What I threw away."

+++

The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the small window. You and Joel had finally found a place to rest in Jackson, a sanctuary after months of navigating through the states with Ellie. It felt surreal to be in a bed again, to have a roof over your heads and a semblance of normalcy.

You lay beside Joel, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The warmth of his body next to yours was a comfort you had almost forgotten. As you turned to face him, you saw his eyes were open, gazing at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"I can't believe we're here," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

Joel reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Me neither," he replied softly. "Feels like a dream."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "A good dream."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know it's been hard," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everything we've been through... but we're here now. And I want you to know that I love you. Always have, always will."

The words took your breath away. It had been so long since you had heard them, since you had felt the certainty of his love. Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, cupping his face in your hands.

"I love you too, Joel," you whispered, your voice breaking. "More than anything."

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You buried your face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside might have been falling apart, but in that moment, you had each other, and that was enough.

Joel’s words cut through the night air like a blade. “Sophie is pregnant.”

You felt your breath catch, the weight of his revelation sinking in. Anger, hurt, and confusion are all mixed together in a tumultuous storm inside you. “What do you want me to do? To kill him?” you retorted, your voice sharp with sarcasm and pain.

Joel shook his head, his expression somber. “It isn’t mine.”

“Good,” you snapped. “I can't say what kind of mother Sophie will be, but that child doesn't deserve a father like you.”

Joel flinched at your words, the sting of them evident in his eyes.

“How do you know it’s not yours?” you asked.

“Because she is two months old,” Joel said, his voice steady but filled with a weary resignation. “And do you think I would have the strength to be with her after what happened?”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. The weight of the past, the betrayal, and the lingering feelings between you made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like you care about someone’s feelings,” you spat, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Come on,” Joel pleaded, his eyes filled with desperate earnestness. “You should stop being this unfair.”

“Unfair?” You echoed, your voice rising. “You think I’m being unfair? After everything you’ve done?”

Joel took a step closer, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’ve hurt you. But I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to lose you.”

“Then why?” you demanded, tears streaming down your face. “Why did you do it? Why did you throw everything away?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched into his features. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was lost. I was hurting. And I made a terrible mistake. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

He never stopped loving you; he said those words.

You shook your head, and the pain in your chest was almost unbearable. “Loving me wasn’t enough, Joel. It wasn’t enough to keep you from hurting me. And now... now I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crushing him. “I understand,” he said quietly. “But I need you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. To earn your trust back. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You looked at him, the man you had once loved with all your heart, and felt a flicker of the old connection between you. The weight of unspoken words and lingering pain hung in the air between you, and you took a deep breath, needing to finally voice what had been haunting you for so long.

"After Sarah died..." you began, your voice trembling. "I know you spent weeks wishing it would have been me instead of her. Don’t try to deny it. I heard you the night after. You and Tommy were talking, and he was telling you not to push me away, and you said, "

"She was our daughter," Joel interrupted, his eyes glistening with tears as he realized how horrible he had been to you. "You know what it felt like to lose her."

"I know," you replied, your voice soft but steady. "It would make you feel better to know I did it too, but that's the difference between us. I would never wish that because you mean everything to me, and without Sarah, I needed you to keep going."

Joel's expression crumbled, the weight of your words breaking through the walls he had built around his heart. He took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached out to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I was so lost in my grief that I couldn't see how much you were hurting too. I pushed you away when I should have held you closer."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and regret there. It was a glimpse of the man you had once loved—the man you had hoped he could be again.

"I needed you, Joel," you said, your voice breaking. "I needed you to be there for me, but you shut me out. And then... then you betrayed me in the worst possible way."

Joel nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I know. And I can't change what I've done. But I want to make things right, if you'll let me. I want to be the man you deserve—the man who can be there for you like I should have been. All over man”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words settling over you.

Joel's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours with a mix of sorrow and understanding. "I was scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of reopening old wounds, scared of facing my own guilt and grief, I thought if I buried it deep enough, it would eventually fade away. But I was wrong."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, the pain of years of unspoken grief rising to the surface. "I was scared too," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of facing the reality of what we had lost together."

As Joel's words hung heavy in the air, you felt a surge of anger and betrayal rising within you. "You're going to talk about her now?" You spat, your voice tinged with bitterness. "You never mentioned her because you felt it was better to pretend, she didn't exist?"

Joel recoiled at the accusation, his eyes filled with pain. "You don't get to tell me how I should feel," he protested, his voice shaking with emotion. "I loved her too, you know. Losing her was... it was the hardest thing I've ever been through. Because when I saved you, she died,"

"So, letting my baby die was your revenge?"

"It was my baby too," Joel insisted, his voice pleading. "I would have given anything to save him; you know that."

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. "You're..." you started, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain and anger. "I fucking despise you, Joel," you finally spat, the words heavy with the weight of your broken heart. "Fuck you, fuck Sophie, fuck everything that..."

But before you could finish, Joel's voice cut through the chaos, soft and filled with longing. "I miss you," he whispered, his words echoing in the space between you.

"You have to," you replied bitterly, your heart aching with the rawness of your emotions. "When did you stop loving me?"

"I love you," Joel said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You sighed, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. "When did you fall out of love with me?" you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I never did," Joel confessed, his eyes locking with yours. "You're the love of my life. I would marry you in all the universes."

"But?" you pressed, your heart clenching with the fear of his answer.

"But every time I look at you, I see my baby girl in your eyes,” Joel faltered, his voice trailing off.

"You could have told me,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I don't forgive you, Joel. I loved the old you, I was in love with that man. I had a beautiful girl with him, and they both died that night."

"Stop talking like I don't exist anymore," Joel pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion.

"You don't," you replied, your voice hollow with grief. "The Joel Miller I loved would never do what you did."

As the truth of your words settled over you both, you felt the weight of your shared grief and regret pressing down on your shoulders. But somewhere deep inside, you knew that the man you had loved still lived, intertwined with the veins of your soul, forever a part of you.

You walked away from him.

As the days passed by, the encounter with Joel lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you had tried to bury. The pain, anger, and lingering love for the man he once was weighed heavily on you, despite your attempts to move forward. You found yourself distracted, your thoughts often drifting back to that night and the raw honesty of his words.

Joel, too, was affected by the confrontation. He became more withdrawn, his guilt and regret casting a shadow over his every action. You could see the torment in his eyes whenever your paths crossed in Jackson, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds that had yet to heal.

One cold winter morning, you were busy with your usual tasks, trying to keep your mind occupied. The biting wind swept through the town, and you pulled your coat tighter around you as you made your way through the streets. As you approached the central square, you noticed a commotion near the gates.

Ellie had arrived, her face flushed with anger. She stormed through the gates, her eyes blazing with fury. Concerned, you approached her, hoping to understand what had happened.

"Ellie, what's wrong?" you asked gently, trying to catch her attention.

She glared at you; her anger palpable. "Fuck you," she snapped, her voice filled with a bitterness that cut through you.

Taken aback by her hostility, you stepped back, watching as she continued her march towards the center of Jackson. You followed her with your eyes, your concern growing. It was then that you saw Joel arriving from the opposite direction, his expression tense and troubled.

Joel's eyes found yours across the space, and in that moment, you realized that something she had found out the truth. The weight of his gaze and the anger in Ellie's demeanor pointed to a revelation that had shaken them both to the core.

The air felt fresh against the skin of your face, but for a reason you couldn’t kept going, you paralyzed as you saw Ellie’s back from behind as she kept making her way towards Jackson in complete silence.

You and Joel had sworn everything he had said was true. You had made a choice for her and th guilt began to creep within you.

Joel noticed your distress, and walk backwards until he was in front of you “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I can’t keep this secret” you told him.

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked into your eyes. "I need you to be strong," he said softly. "For her. For us. We'll protect her from this, together. We can't ever tell her the truth," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She can't know what really happened with the Fireflies."

You stood beside him, the enormity of his words settling over you. "I know," you replied, your voice heavy with resignation. "But it's going to be hard to keep it from her, Joel. She deserves to know the truth."

Joel turned to face you; his eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "I need you to promise me. For her sake. For all our sakes."

You met his gaze, seeing the anguish and fear in his eyes. You understood the stakes, the delicate balance that needed to be maintained to protect Ellie. With a heavy heart, you nodded.

"I promise," you said softly. "We'll keep the secret."

Joel exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," he murmured. "I know it's not fair to ask this of you, but I couldn't bear to lose her. Not after everything."

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering what comfort you could. "We'll protect her, Joel. Together."

Joel's expression softened. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

Ellie’s words stung, but your concern for her outweighed the hurt. Determined to understand what had set her off, you followed her through the bustling streets of Jackson. The winter air was crisp, and your breath was visible as you quickened your pace to keep up with her.

“Ellie, please,” you called after her, but she didn’t slow down. Her steps were fueled by anger and pain, and you knew something significant must have happened.

She finally stopped near the edge of the settlement, in a secluded spot away from prying eyes. You approached her cautiously, giving her space but making it clear you weren’t going anywhere.

“What happened?” You asked, your voice gentle but firm.

Ellie spun around to face you, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and betrayal. “You and Joel think you can just lie to me? About everything?”

Your heart sank. The truth had come out. “Ellie, I—”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, her voice trembling. “Don’t try to explain it away. I know what happened. I know what he did and what you both did.”

The weight of her accusation hung in the air, and you felt the full force of your guilt crashing down on you. “We were trying to protect you,” you said quietly. “We thought it was the only way.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, but her anger didn’t waver. “You had no right to make that choice for me,” she spat. “I deserved to know the truth. I deserved to make my own decisions.”

You took a step closer, your own eyes misting with tears. “I’m sorry, Ellie. We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Ellie shook her head, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You know, you both deserve each other,” she said, her voice breaking. “That baby you lost didn’t deserve a liar mother.”

Ellie’s words cut deeper than any blade. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the pain of her accusation mingling with the agony of your loss. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to respond.

“Ellie, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that.”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps behind you. Joel had followed, his face etched with worry and regret. “Ellie,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“Save it, Joel,” she said, her voice cold. “I don’t want to hear any more lies.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, his eyes pleading as he looked at her. “Ellie, please. We did what we thought was best. We were trying to protect you.”

Ellie’s anger flared again, and she took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. “Protect me? By lying to me? By taking away my choice.”

Joel’s expression crumbled, and he glanced at you, his eyes filled with desperation. “We were wrong,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We were wrong to keep the truth from you. But we did it out of love. Out of fear of losing you.”

Ellie’s gaze flickered between you and Joel, her emotions a storm of betrayal and hurt. “I need time,” she said finally, her voice cracking. “I need to think.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Joel. The guilt and regret in his eyes were too much to bear. You took a step back, then another, putting distance between you and the man who had once been your anchor. The man who had become a stranger through a web of lies and broken promises.

“Wait!” Joel called out, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t go.”

But you couldn’t stay. Not now. Not with everything crashing down around you. You turned away, your heart heavy with grief and sorrow, and walked away from Joel, leaving him standing alone in the snow.

As you made your way through the town, the cold wind stinging your cheeks, you couldn’t help but replay the events in your mind. The pain in Ellie’s eyes, the desperation in Joel’s voice, and the unbearable weight of your own guilt. You had thought you were protecting her, but in doing so, you had shattered the trust that had once held you all together.

The night was cold, a sharp wind slicing through the darkness as the three of you huddled around the crackling fire. The journey to the hospital had been long and arduous, each day blurring into the next as you traversed through abandoned towns and treacherous terrain. But tonight, there was a strange sense of peace among you.

You rested your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours, a welcome contrast to the biting cold. Ellie sat across from you, poking at the fire with a stick, her face illuminated by the dancing flames.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting," Ellie joked, a playful smirk on her lips as she watched the two of you. "Get a room, seriously."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. Joel's arm tightened around you, a subtle yet comforting gesture. "Jealous much?" you teased back, meeting Ellie's eyes with a grin.

"Yeah, right," Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "As if I'd want to cuddle up to Joel."

"Hey now," Joel interjected, his voice carrying a mock tone of hurt. "I'm plenty cuddly."

Ellie laughed, the sound infectious and genuine, filling the night with a rare sense of normalcy. It was moments like these that made the hardships of your journey bearable, the little pockets of happiness that you all clung to.

As the laughter died down, a comfortable silence settled over the three of you. You closed your eyes, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of Joel's chest beneath your head, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby.

"We're becoming a little family, aren't we?" you mused on Joel’s chest just for him to listen.

"Joel."

He turned back at the sound of your voice, the familiar timbre soothing his demons as only you could tame them. How could he have messed up all he had with you?

You hadn't wanted to talk to him in so long that he felt he could cry just from hearing his name slip from your lips.

"Hey," he stuttered.

"I-" you started, struggling to find the words to begin a conversation with the man you had once shared your bare soul and body with. Carefully, you stepped onto the porch of the house you had once shared, your legs trembling. "I....- knew... well. Ellie found out the truth," you said, standing next to him, barely touching his shoulder with yours.

"She hates me," Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"She doesn't," you declared firmly. "She's mad at me too, but she doesn't really hate you or me."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he said, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I don't," you declared, your tone steady. "I don't feel anything for you, but I won't blame you for what you did."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the connection you once shared. "I don't know how to make things right," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You can’t.” You declared, “At least, not for now. You need to let her alone for a while.”

Joel nodded, his expression a mixture of resignation and longing. "I know," he said softly. "I just... I want to fix things, but I don't know where to start."

You met his gaze, seeing the turmoil in his eyes mirrored in your own. "Sometimes, the best thing we can do is give each other space," you said, your voice gentle yet firm. "Let Ellie process everything in her own time. And in the meantime, we need to figure out how to move forward."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't even know if she'll ever forgive me," he admitted, his voice heavy with doubt.

"You can't control how she feels," you reminded him, your words laced with empathy. "All you can do is show her that you're truly sorry and that you're willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

Joel's gaze softened, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, the weight of his words carrying the weight of his remorse. "For not giving up on me."

You gave him a small, sad smile.

Joel swore he could die just to repair what he had done to you, just for having you this close to him. If one thing had been different, what would it be like now?

The innocence of a first kiss doesn't compare to the stolen glances between two people who once knew everything about each other. And when you said so, you meant him.

He knew you; he drew a constellation in your arms, but he didn't allow you to catch a glimpse of himself in you.

You were a thing—a disposable one.

But he was everything, caring while being careless.

He was human; he loved you, but he was a man.

One who didn't know how to love after humanity had taken everything from him.

"Ellie." You said, looking at her sitting outside your house.

"Why the hell were you talking to him?" she asked, bitterness on her tongue.

"Because I knew you talked" you replied

"Yes, but I don't want you to talk to him"

"I was just checking on him" you defended yourself from her accusations.

"Why? Why do you care about him?

"Ellie-“

"No! He makes you cry every time he is near you, I don't want that.'

"I was part of the lie too and I'm sorry but if you would be here now, I wouldn’t be alive

"I don't hate you. I'm sad you did it, but you didn't make that choice for me. Joel did, he is the one to blame.

"Don't even defend him," Ellie snapped, her frustration boiling over. "I swear, I'll get mad at you for that."

You fell silent, the weight of Ellie's words settling over you like a heavy shroud. In that moment, you realized just how much pain and anger Joel's actions had caused, not just for Ellie, but for you too. And as you looked at her sitting outside your house, you knew that navigating this tangled web of emotions was going to be harder than you ever imagined.

As winter settled over Jackson, the town transformed into a snow-covered wonderland, blanketed in pristine white. The days grew shorter, the air colder, and the residents bundled up in layers of warm clothing as they went about their daily routines.

In the weeks that followed Ellie's revelation, tensions remained high among the residents. The fallout from the truth about the Fireflies cast a long shadow over the community, leaving everyone grappling with their own feelings of guilt and betrayal.

For you, the days passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. You found solace in the routine of daily life, throwing yourself into your work and trying to push aside the weight of your own guilt and regret.

As New Year's Eve approached, the town began to buzz with anticipation. Despite the somber mood that hung over Jackson, there was still a sense of hope and renewal in the air. The residents came together to celebrate the passing of another year, eager to leave the pain and heartache of the past behind them.

The streets were decorated with twinkling lights and festive decorations, and the sound of laughter and music filled the air.

The New Year's party was in full swing, with laughter and music filling the air. The community of Jackson was determined to celebrate and to find moments of joy despite the darkness that surrounded them. You were there, mingling and trying to put on a brave face, when suddenly you heard Ellie's voice rise above the din.

The room fell silent after that, all eyes turning towards the confrontation. Joel stood there, looking wounded and weary, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Ellie's words. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

You felt a pang of sympathy for Joel, despite everything that had happened between you. After a moment's hesitation, you followed him outside, needing to see if he was okay.

You found him on the porch of what was once the house you both shared, sitting on the steps with his guitar in his lap. His fingers plucked at the strings absently, creating a soft, melancholic tune. He looked up, startled, as you approached, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

"I didn't expect to come out here," you admitted, taking a seat beside him. "But I heard what happened inside. Are you okay?"

Joel let out a heavy sigh, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "Just another fight with Ellie," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "It seems like all we do lately is fight."

You nodded, understanding all too well the strain that grief and guilt could place on relationships. "It's hard," you said softly. "On all of us."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. "I never meant to hurt you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Any of you."

"I know," you said, your voice just as quiet. "But that doesn't change what happened."

Joel nodded; his expression hurt. "I don't know how to fix this," he admitted. "I don't know how to make things right."

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the only sound was the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the love and pain that still lingered between you.

"Maybe some things can't be fixed," you said finally, your voice trembling. "Maybe we just have to find a way to live with the pieces."

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with deep, abiding sorrow. "I'm willing to try," he said softly. "If you'll let me."

"I never thought I would see you with a guitar again," you said, ignoring his words and the way your heart constricted against your ribs at the reminiscence of the man you loved, back when Joel was full of life and hope.

Joel glanced down at the guitar in his lap, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess some habits die hard," he murmured, his fingers resuming their gentle strumming. The soft melody hung in the air, a haunting reminder of a time when things were simpler, when love and music filled your lives instead of pain and regret.

You watched him for a moment, the familiar chords stirring memories that you had tried so hard to bury. "Do you remember the first song you played for me?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel nodded, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory. "Of course I do. 'Can't Help Falling in Love.' You said it was your favorite."

"It still is," you admitted, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Even now."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound being the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a shared sense of nostalgia and longing.

Joel finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. "I miss those days," he said quietly.

"So do I," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "But we can't go back, Joel. We can only move forward."

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "But I wish I could make things right between us."

You looked away, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "Some things can't be fixed, Joel," you said softly. "Some wounds are too deep."

Joel's fingers stilled on the guitar strings, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "For everything."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "I know you are," you said finally. "But sorry isn't enough to change what happened. It isn't enough to heal the hurt."

"I know," he said again, his voice filled with sorrow.

You smiled softly, a memory from the past momentarily lifting the weight on your heart. "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with Sarah back then?"

Joel's eyes softened, and he returned your smile, the sadness in his gaze briefly replaced by warmth. "How could I forget? You were glowing. It was the happiest I'd ever seen you."

You chuckled at the bittersweet sound. "You were so stunned, you just sat there for a minute, speechless. I thought you were upset."

Joel shook his head, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "I wasn't upset. I was overwhelmed. It was like everything I'd ever wanted was finally coming true."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the shared memory bridging the chasm that had grown between you. The night air was cool, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves nearby.

"I miss those days too," you admitted softly. "When life was simple, and our biggest worries were about making ends meet, not surviving day to day,"

Joel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We can't go back to those days, but maybe... maybe we can find a way to move forward."

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes touching a chord within you. "It's going to take time, Joel. And a lot of effort."

"I know," he replied, his voice steady. "But I'm willing to try. For us, and for Ellie."

The mention of Ellie brought a fresh wave of emotion. "She's been through so much," you said, your voice thick with concern. "We need to be strong for her."

Joel's fingers resumed their gentle strumming, the soft melody filling the night air once more. "We will be.”

Your heart began to beat faster—a heavy, suffocating rhythm that filled your chest. For a moment, it felt as if the man you once knew, the man you had loved with all your heart, was sitting right there beside you. In that instant, there was no cheating, no dead baby, and no outbreak. Just you and Joel, the way it used to be.

He looked at you with those soft brown eyes of his, eyes that once held nothing but love and hope. The same eyes that had crinkled at the corners when he smiled had looked at you with such adoration and warmth.

Joel's fingers, calloused yet gentle, reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was so light and tender that you almost didn't feel it. But the gesture—the simple, familiar intimacy of it—made your breath catch in your throat.

"Do you ever think about what could have been?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

Joel's eyes held yours, and for a moment, you saw the depth of his sorrow and regret. "Every day," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I think about it every day."

The weight of his words settled over you, mingling with your own grief and longing. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had grown between you, but the wounds were still too raw, too fresh.

"I'm sorry for everything," he continued, his voice breaking. "For all the pain I've caused you."

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. "Stop saying that," you whispered. "I know you are."

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the past had dissolved, leaving only the two of you, bound by the love you had once shared. The guitar's soft melody wrapped around you, a bittersweet echo of the happiness you had known.

But reality, harsh and unrelenting, lingered at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of the chasm that still separated you. The pain, the betrayal, the loss—they were all still there, lurking in the shadows.

Joel's hand lingered on your cheek, his touch a gentle reminder of what you had once had, and what you had lost. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, even as your heart ached with the knowledge that it could never truly be the same.

Joel leaned in; his intentions clear in the way his eyes searched yours. But as his lips neared yours, you instinctively moved your head, redirecting his kiss to your cheek. His lips lingered there for a few seconds, warm and soft against your skin, a hesitant caress that spoke of longing and regret.

The unexpected intimacy of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and for those few lingering seconds, you let yourself feel the connection, the love that still lingered between you despite everything that had happened.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You looked at him, your own emotions a tangled mess. "I don't want to lose you either," you admitted, your voice trembling.

"Hey," Ellie said, her voice breaking the fragile silence. "Am I interrupting something?"

Joel pulled back slightly, his expression shifting from the raw vulnerability he'd shown to a more guarded demeanor. "No, Ellie," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "We were just talking."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Talking, huh? It looked like more than just talking."

You stood up, brushing away the remnants of tears from your cheeks. "It's okay, Ellie," you said, trying to sound reassuring. "We were just... sorting things out."

Ellie crossed her arms, her gaze still flicking between the two of you. "Well, whatever. I just came out to get some fresh air. That party is too loud."

Joel gave her a small, understanding nod. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "Sometimes you need a break from all the noise."

Ellie looked at you, her expression softening slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked, her concern evident.

You managed a small smile, though it felt strained. "I'm getting there," you replied. "One step at a time."

Ellie nodded, seeming to accept your answer. “Can I talk to Joel?” she asked, looking for an answer

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The tension between Ellie and Joel was palpable, and you couldn't help but worry about what their conversation might entail.

The knock on your door startled you awake, pulling you from the restless sleep that had plagued you for hours. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stumbled to the door, heart pounding with uncertainty.

When you opened it, Joel stood on the other side, his expression hesitant yet hopeful. His presence filled the doorway, casting a shadow over the threshold.

"Joel," you said, your voice a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Hey," he murmured, his gaze searching yours. "I... I couldn't sleep. Can we talk?"

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to face him again after everything that had happened. But the sincerity in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself nodding, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel's words trailed off as he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, stirring emotions you had tried to bury deep within.

Before you could protest or pull away, his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and regret, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

For a moment, you were lost in the sensation of his lips against yours, the familiarity of his touch washing over you like a wave. Memories of happier times flooded your mind, threatening to overwhelm you with their intensity.

But as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, leaving you breathless and confused. You pulled away, staring at Joel in shock, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"Joel, what are you doing?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of emotions.

Joel's expression was pained as he stepped back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know what came over me."

You shook your head, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "We can't do this, Joel," you said firmly, though your heart ached at the words.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with regret. "I just... I needed to see you. To talk to you. To try to make things right."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's too late for that," you said softly, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I just had this feeling and I couldn’t sleep." Joel met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. "I just don't know if I can do this without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice stirring something deep within you. But you knew that giving in to him now would only lead to more heartache in the long run.

"I need space, Joel," you said, your voice firm but gentle. “Go to sleep, please”

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping further in defeat. “Have a good night, and happy new year” he said, smiling.

“Happy new year.”

As the next day progressed,

you went about your tasks, trying to focus on the bustling activity in Jackson. The town seemed livelier than usual, with people coming and going, laughter filling the air. But something felt off, a nagging sense of unease that lingered at the edges of your consciousness.

Hours passed, and you realized you hadn't seen Joel, Tommy, or Ellie all day. At first, you brushed it off, thinking they might be busy with their own tasks or simply taking some time for themselves. But as the day wore on and the sun began to dip below the horizon, that nagging feeling grew stronger.

You tried to push aside your growing unease, focusing on your tasks with renewed determination. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

Finally, unable to ignore your instincts any longer, you set out to find out what had happened to Joel, Tommy, and Ellie. You searched the town, asking anyone you came across if they had seen them, but no one had any answers.

As the evening wore on and darkness descended upon Jackson, your anxiety reached a fever pitch. The streets grew quiet, the bustling activity of earlier replaced by an eerie stillness. And still, there was no sign of Joel, Tommy, or Ellie.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

As you approached Ellie, Dina, Tommy, and the rest of the group, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Ellie was hurt, her face twisted with grief and anguish, while Dina followed closely behind, offering what comfort she could. Tommy and the others looked devastated, but it was Tommy's expression that caught your attention. When his eyes met yours, he broke down, the weight of his grief too much to bear.

"Ellie? What's wrong?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"He's..." Ellie began, her voice choked with emotion.

"Tommy?" you turned to him, hoping for some clarity.

"Joel died," Tommy finally managed to say, his voice breaking with the weight of his words.

Your heart stopped, the world around you fading into a blur as the reality of his words sank in. Joel, the man you had loved and lost so many times over, was gone. The ghost of your Joel had died, and now you had lost him physically as well.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to process the enormity of the loss. Joel, who had been a constant presence in your life, was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

You reached out to Ellie, offering whatever comfort you could, but inside, you felt as though a part of you had died along with Joel.

Joel was gone, and with him, a piece of your heart had died too.

You stood in Joel's house, surrounded by the remnants of his life. Every corner held a memory, every object a reminder of the man he had been. It was both comforting and agonizing, a bittersweet symphony of grief and love.

With trembling hands, you began to search through his belongings, desperate to find something that would make you feel less worse, if only for a moment. You opened drawers and cabinets, sifted through papers and trinkets, but nothing seemed to ease the ache in your heart.

when you stepped inside his bedroom, his presence hit you like a wave, so inoffensive yet so violent, strong, with the force to make you fall on your bum and being trapped by its force.

You felt a lump, the air in your lungs hot stuck and you couldn't help but gasp. You sat on the unmade bed, looking around, caressing the sheets as if him would step for his door and say sorry for what he did.

The room smelled like him, a wooed incandescent essence you would never forget.

When you lifted your eyes to the bed table, there were two frames. A picture of him and Sarah, and your heart stopped for a moment, thinking they were together now. The second held a photo of the two of you, taken on your wedding day, your smiles bright and hopeful.

Tears filled your eyes as you gazed at the images, the pain of loss washing over you anew.

You turned to see Tommy standing in the doorway, his expression mirroring your own somber sadness.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. "I thought I'd find you here."

You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of grief pressed down on you.

Tommy stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. "It's hard to believe he's gone," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, trying to keep his composure.

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your loss. "Yeah," you managed, your voice hoarse with emotion. "It doesn't feel real."

Tommy wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as you wept. His shoulder was a sturdy anchor, absorbing the weight of your sorrow.

"I know it feels like that," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the truth. "I just... I can't shake this feeling that I could have done something differently," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion.

Tommy gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You did everything you could," he said firmly. "Don't blame yourself for his mistakes."

You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his words. In that moment, you knew that no matter how much you mourned Joel's loss, you would always have Tommy by your side, a beacon of light in the darkness of your grief.

"you're the only one left I have from that life"

"You're mine." He smiled as his eyes glistened "you're my sister and the best one Joel brought home'

You chuckled, trying not to break down into pieces in front of him. "I-he was the love of my life'

Tommy's expression softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I know," he said gently, his voice carrying the weight of shared loss.

All the memories you once braid alongside with Joel, engulfed in fire.

With Tommy's comforting presence beside you, you found the courage to speak the words that had been weighing heavily on your heart.

"It takes a lot of strength to do this, but... I forgive you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, as your gaze to the photograph of Joel, his image frozen in time, a reminder of the man you had loved and lost. The ache in your chest persisted, but alongside it was a sense of release, a small flicker of peace amidst the storm of emotions.

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the bustling suburban neighborhood. Children playing in the streets, and the sound of cars and laughing filled the air.

As you walk down the sidewalk, you see a house that you recognize instantly. The house you and Joel shared, the place where so many memories were made. Your heart aches with a longing so intense it nearly takes your breath away.

Pushing open the front door, you step inside and are greeted by the comforting vanilla smell of home. You hear voices coming from the kitchen and follow the sound, your steps quickened with anticipation.

When you reached the kitchen, you saw Joel standing at the stove, cooking breakfast with a smile on his face. He looked younger, his hair missed the grey you got used to, and Sarah was sitting at the table, her eyes sparkling with joy as she was talking with Joel. The sight of them together, so alive and happy, brought tears to your eyes.

Joel looked up and saw you standing in the doorway. "Hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with warmth and love. "You're just in time for breakfast."

Sarah turns in her chair and grins at you. "Morning, Mom! Dad's making our favorite pancakes!"

The flood of emotions was overwhelming you couldn’t even breath. You took a step forward, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to find your voice. "Joel, Sarah," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Joel's smile faded the minute he saw the tears in your eyes. He stepped away from the stove and came to you, concern etched across his features. "What's wrong, honey?" he asks, his hands gently cupping your face. "Why are you crying?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You reached out and pull both Joel and Sarah into a tight embrace, holding them as if they might disappear at any moment. "I missed you so much," you sob, your heart breaking with the realization that this moment, as perfect as it is, can't last.

Joel looked at you, his brow furrowed with worry. "Missed us? What are you talking about? We're right here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, trying to memorize every detail of his face. "I know," you whispered.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, her voice soft and soothing. "It's okay, Mom. We're here now."

+++

a/n: I know that you possibly waited for another ending, but my mind ended up in different places. So, just to clarify I could never forgive the words or actions Joel did in this story but since the story was tragic, I tried to portray what it was like for them to navigate a world that went into pieces after the outbreak and how they lost themselves in it, how the reader despise what he did but still had that love for him in her because sometimes, evern when we get hurt by someone we may have a bad habit to reach out that person, and finally, I thought the dream was a tragic way to end the story, with the reader having her moment with the Joel and Sarah since she knew that she and the Joel she was in love with died that night too. However, he would end up dead from beginning so, sorry. I also added the new year eve party because you know how the spirits are during those days, like the hope and renewal that joel was waiting for but the reader no. I don't know if I did a good job, but still, bye, thanks for coming here 💌

I tagged everyone who asked for part ii and some who read part one, sorry if I forgot someone, or if you want to be removed, you can tell me.

tags: @immyowndefender @persephone-girl @elliaze @ninasully @whirlwindrider29 @missladym1981 @negansbestie @hobiebrowns-wife @zpandaqueen @ilovetaquitosmmmm @midnightbabylon @southernbe @joeldjarin @hiroikegawa @nothingbutaspeckofdust

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thewordypeach · 2 years ago

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Milk

Milk (Cream)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, fingering, slight orgasm count, oral fixation??, titty sucking (lactation kink), fingering, implied breeding kink?!? summary: Joel doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done. author's note: i should be studying for my finals next week but joel miller sucking titties is obviously more important, and i just couldn't help myself! i just had to write it!!! the result? it's hot. maybe too hot - can you handle it? i know i couldn't. xoxo the wordy peach <3

“Only nine weeks left!” Ellie says excitedly, peering at your protruding stomach with wide eyes of wonderment. She can’t wait to meet her little sister or brother, and each week since announcing your pregnancy, Ellie crosses off a week in her little calendar.

Fondly, you smile at her. She’s been your saving grace during this pregnancy - distracting you with every question possible. She even managed to get it out of you when you and Joel convinced the damn thing (“It was that night at the stables, wasn’t it?”)

“Nine weeks,” She repeats with a confident nod; she glances at you, a single eyebrow raised, “Have you looked at the list of names I gave you?”

You let out a chuckle, nodding, “Yes, Ellie - I look at it every night,”

Her eyes widen, “Every night?”

“Every damn night,” Joel grumbles as he walks into the room. He’s exhausted from the extra shifts he’s been putting in because he wants time off for the baby. With tired, bleary eyes, Joel looks at Ellie, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She glares at him, points directly at your belly, and speaks with conviction, “Well, technically, I am in health class, and if I have to learn about procreation, Joel, I want her to teach me,"

Exasperated, Joel sighs. He shakes his head with frustration, and briefly, you can see the hint of annoyance on his tired face. He looks at Ellie with his eyebrows knitted together - she knows better than to argue with him. She purses her lips into a thin line and begins gathering school supplies. Ellie ignores Joel and starts idly chatting about her day and her plans.

She’s looking forward to the new reading assignment and asking if you’ll help her later with something. You rub your belly and nod, “Of course, Ellie - you know where I’ll be,”

A flicker of concern mixed with panic crosses her face. She glances at you; you know she’s asking if you’ll really be here when she returns. Ellie confirms, a slight wavering in her voice, “You’ll be here, right?”

You feel a pang of empathy for her. The world you live in is uncertain - even here, in Jackson, there’s no guarantee of safety. You understand her fear, and reassuringly, you tell her, “Yes, Ellie - I’ll be home all day,”

She nods, and her shoulder’s visibly relax at your confirmation. But before leaving, Ellie just has to turn to Joel and says, “She isn’t feeling good today, so don’t be a dick - or else I will know, and you’ll have to deal with me,”

As Joel sips his water, Ellie shoots him a stern look. Despite what your partner likes to think, you both know Ellie is in charge. Her gaze holds a silent warning, and you stifle a chuckle, watching as she finally leaves the house. Once the door is closed, silence falls between you and Joel. It’s tense; his eyes penetrate you, noting your skin's paleness and its sickly sheen of sweat. Usually you’re glowing -

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks in that demanding tone of his.

You sigh, shaking your head, “It’s nothing,”

“Babe,” Joel warns, and you hear him shuffling over before the chair next to you pulls out, and he’s sitting there. He places a hand on your thigh and repeats his question more gently this time.

“I’m…” You think about the right words, carefully selecting them, “Uncomfortable,”

Confessing this to your partner is almost embarrassing. Maybe it’s his rough exterior that makes you feel like this. Joel, who is waiting patiently, peers at you. His eyes soften, and he looks at you with such tenderness. You’ve been missing these moments because he’s never home anymore.

He presses, “C’mon, darlin'… tell me what’s wrong,”

Your cheeks flush pink, and after a minute or two, you admit: “My boobs hurt,”

Joel gives you an incredulous look, and his cheeks blush too. His gaze turns to your breasts - even he can’t deny how much they’ve grown in the past few weeks. Joel knows they’re swollen with milk for the incoming baby, but he doesn’t understand how uncomfortable you are. He probably never will because, biologically, he’s a man.

He watches as you reach up, adjusting your tits, groaning out a slew of complaints: “My nipples are so fucking sensitive and hard all the goddamn time! I feel like I’m in that stupid Austin Power movie with the fembots and their machine gun titties,” Joel knows the movie you are referring to, and he can’t help but chuckle and hearing this makes your eyes narrow at him.

“Are you seriously fucking laughing at me, Joel?” Your voice is emotional, and you attempt to stand, but it’s useless. Your stupid round belly makes it impossible to do anything, and sadness floods your hormonal body. You whine, “I am so fat -”

Joel shakes his head, watching as your face goes through several emotions simultaneously. There’s not much he can do, but he does reassure you that you are not fat - “You are pregnant,”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You grumble, arms crossing over your chest. You wince because you’re nipples feel like they’re on fire, and you feel like they’re about to burst at any second. You wiggle uncomfortably and pout at Joel. He’s thinking of ways to help and can only think of a single thing that might help but is hesitant about bringing it up.

“What if…” He trails off, swallowing the dry lump growing in his throat, “What if I help… relieve some of that pressure?”

Your eyebrows furrow together, confused. “How?”

“Umm,” He glances around. He knows it’s just the two of you, but he wants to make sure because he’s about to suggest something crazy. His voice drops an octave, suggesting, “I can milk you,”

Your jaw slacks, and you hiss, “Like a cow?”

“N-no!” Joel sputters, hands waving aimlessly around, but it dawns on him it’s exactly like that, and sheepishly, he says: “Okay, yeah… it might be similar to that,”

“Joel,” Your voice wavers, hot tears swell in your eyes. You feel stupid! And your emotions won’t stop. You know he’s just trying to help, but dammit! Joel just called you a cow - “I can’t believe you think I’m a cow,”

Joel gives you an apologetic look. He’s sympathetic to your situation; he knows you don’t mean to be this hormonal, and he knows it’s his child doing this to you. He places a hand on your belly and gently rubs the fabric of his stretched-out shirt (the only one that fits!). He leans over, “Darlin’… you’re not a cow. You’re growing a baby. And I think, from what I read, that your milk ducts need to be expressed,”

“What does that mean? Expressed? Are you going to suck the milk out, Joel?”

Joel's cheeks redden, and the sultry tone in your voice surprises him. He thinks he has imagined it, but then, Joel sees how your eyes darken into a lustful frequency. He reads your message loud and clear.

Without hesitation, Joel captures your jaw between his rough fingers and kisses you. It’s sweet. Gentle. Exactly what you need to forget your frustration with him. But of course, you want more. You deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across Joel’s lower lip and dipping your tongue into his mouth. Ever so slightly, he groans. He loves it when your forward.

You’re leaning over, as far as you can with your belly, and place your hands onto Joel’s jean-clad thighs. You must hold onto something for balance because your stupid belly messes with your center of gravity. You have yet to get used to it. You’re trying to climb into Joel’s lap, but it’s useless. You’re struggling to lift your body into his, and you pull back, huffing in frustration.

“This stupid belly!” You mutter while rubbing it. Joel finds your annoyance cute, and despite his best effort, Joel’s cock is already stirring inside his pants. It’s been a while since you two had sex, and today is the day that he’s going to fuck you after weeks of hiatus.

“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Joel coos and helps you stand. Your belly knocks into his, and it makes him smile. His teeth flash, and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He can’t believe he’s going to be a father again. He can’t wait to meet his little one. But, for now, Joel must give you some relief because it is his fault that you’re in this position. He’s the one who kept pumping his seed into your womb.

Joel knew the consequences of not using a condom, and here he is - reaping what he sowed. He begins leading you to the bedroom, insisting, “Let me take care of you,”

“We shouldn’t - I have to meet Maria in an hour, and it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to waddle there,”

Joel ignores you, pulling your body into the room and shutting the door swiftly behind you. He doesn’t need prying eyes on what he’s about to do. Joel starts by showering your jaw and neck with kisses, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before tugging it off. He nearly gasps from seeing your breasts, practically spilling out of the tiny bra that once fit your tits so perfectly.

You feel Joel devouring your body, noting how his hungry eyes stare at your chest. You mutter, “They’re massive, aren’t they?”

“They’re perfect, babe,” Joel nods and wraps an arm around your body. With a single finger, he unlatches your bra, and your tits spring free as the garment falls to the ground. A groan of surprise escapes Joel’s throat, and his hard cock strains against his zipper. He marvels at your milky skin, strewn with veins and stretch marks. He reaches and cups them, his fingers ghosting over your nipples, which are a deeper colour than before. Even in these short weeks, your body has made changes he wasn’t even aware of.

You hiss, “Joel,” but your eyes close because the relief of him holding your breasts has taken the strain off your back. He blows a soft gust at your left side and watches as your face twists into discomfort.

“Shit, darlin’… are they really that sensitive?”

You whimper, “Yeah - they’re that sensitive,”

“If it hurts, tell me to stop,” Joel instructs before he lowers his mouth to your breast. He kisses the skin, and you melt beneath the attention. When Joel swipes his tongue across the rock-hard nipple, you bite back the yelp that threatens to come out and instead focus on how Joel gingerly kneads the pillowy flesh that drapes from your chest. He’s listening to you, waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t. You’re bearing the torment he's putting you through because you know it will feel good at some point. And eventually, it does.

It’s undeniable: Joel’s hands on your breasts feel amazing, and his warm mouth working on your right nipple is starting to create wetness between your thighs. As his fingers continue, you notice a new sensation in your breast that makes you squirm. At that moment, you feel a release as something emerges from your nipple and shoots into Joel’s mouth. You gasp and watch as he finally yields, pulling away from your body. You see the slightest evidence of white dew on his lower lip, and when you look down at your nipple, it's leaking with the same substance. You are shocked, unsure of what to do.

“Does that feel better, darlin’?” Joel hums. Hastily, you nod and swallow dryly. It does feel better, but you need more relief.

You gaze at Joel, eyelids cutely fluttering at him. You sheepishly ask, “What about the other side?”

Joel just smiles and helps you onto the bed. He places two extra pillows behind your back, ensuring you’re comfy before he settles down. He raises his head again, latching his mouth onto your other breast. Once more, the feeling is overwhelming. Almost too much to bear. You grit through the discomfort, relenting to the sensation of Joel’s mouth and hand as he works. Soon enough, another squirt of hidden cream comes forth.

It has you moaning this time, and you bask in the momentary relief. And instead of leaving your breast unattended, your hands thread through Joel’s dishevelled hair, and you keep him there. Breathlessly, you demand, “Don’t stop,” He listens and continues to work your breasts until your moans are frantic and your thighs continuously flex. Your arousal has grown to great heights, and an aching desire radiates in your core for the first time in a long time.

You reach down, fingers dipping into your sweatpants - again, it’s the only thing that fits - and notice how soaked your panties are. Of course, these days, it's a common occurrence. Pregnancy has your body changing in ways you didn’t even consider. Some of them are shocking, and some of them are annoying. Since the first trimester, the idea of sex repulses you. And it made you feel guilty because you live to please Joel. But your lovely partner doesn’t mind; he’s just been taking longer showers, which has been pissing Ellie off because there’s often no hot water left for her -

Joel notices your hand sliding into your pants and wants some of that action too. He takes one hand and places it on top of yours. Sharply, you inhale. You love how Joel is guiding your hand to his will. With his skillful touch, it doesn’t take long to reach the peak, turning you into a groaning mess as waves of pleasure swell and roll across your body. You notice how your belly quivers with delight too.

As you descend from the peak, you let Joel go. He lifts his head and wipes his milk-laced mouth before kissing you on the lips. You taste yourself. It’s sweet and creamy, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. As Joel’s tongue explores your mouth, you relish the feeling because it’s been too long. You missed his passion, and you missed him ravishing your body.

“Joel, I need you,” You whine through kisses as your hands wander up and down his back, attempting to undress him. He moves, and his shirt and pants are on the ground within seconds. With no underwear in sight, your eyes lock onto his dick, hanging freely. The presence of it never fails to make you drool.

Despite his quick movements to undress, Joel takes a slower approach with you and leisurely removes your sweatpants. His hands work with delicate precision, especially when he’s around your stomach. It’s incredibly frustrating for you, and you’re huffing in annoyance. It’s never been like this before. He’s always so rough, taking on a lusty savageness, and Joel would be inside by now. However, he’s still working off your panties.

“Joel,” You whimper. Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you don’t know how much more you can take. You need his cock, and you don’t care if something goes wrong. Months of built-up horniness are making you reckless. You beg, “Please just fuck me already,”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re dark with desire. As he places his body between your thighs, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Joel anticipates your reply - stupid belly - and hushes you before it can come out: “It’s not stupid - it’s love,”

“Love?” You whisper, confused. It’s not common, and Joel has only used it once. Morning sickness took over, and you were throwing up for weeks. Ellie and Joel thought you were dying. And, of course, for a little while, you believed them. It wasn’t until Maria asked when your last period did you clue in. And when you relayed that message to Joel, his grumpy face went unusually slack before joy took over. He swept you into his arms, kissed you, and said:

“I love you,” He repeats while wrapping a hand around his cock, lowering it to your glistening, swollen exterior. Expertly, he glides the crown of his cock up and down, watching as your juices coat it. You moan because your pussy is so unbelievably sensitive that another climax is blooming in your core. Joel finds himself commenting: “Goddamn… Your cunt is soaking wet,”

You squirm, hips wiggling as you spread your thighs further apart. You hate begging for it, but your cunt yearns for fulfillment. “Please!”

Joel presses his big, round tip against your tight entrance. You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing down at the penetration point, but your belly is in the way. You can’t see what’s happening but don’t have to because you suddenly feel his cock pushing through. At first, your velvet channel is resistant, but that doesn’t deter Joel.

As your walls grip his cock, coating it in a creamy warmth, Joel tosses his head back and sighs with satisfaction. It’s been so long. His hand has nothing on your pussy. Joel delves his cock as deep as possible, and you can feel it practically bulging inside your stomach. And when Joel places his hands on either side of your protruding belly, your impending orgasm rips through.

“Mmm, cumming already,” Your pussy convulses and clenches as a powerful wave of immeasurable pleasure crashes. White, hot flashes across your vision, sweeping you into a moment of intensity. Joel admires as your body undulates beneath him, studying as your belly ripples. He knows the pregnancy is the reason for your quick orgasms, and he wonders how many he can get out before he cums.

With a mission in mind, Joel lets you come back down before he starts to rock his hips back and forth. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with a third orgasm. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets below. You barely have time to catch your breath before Joel ups his pace, and he excitedly speers your pussy with youthful energy.

Hypnotically, Joel watches as your tits bounce with each thrust, and soon enough, his fingers are back on them. He squeezes and kneads until the milk sprays out with a such force that it sprinkles across your chest and coats his hands. A feral growl escapes from your mouth, “Joel,”

Your vision swirls, and your body shivers with ecstasy as a fourth orgasm rolls through. You gasp, sucking in as much air as you can. You look at Joel, marveling at his skin's sheer layer of sweat. He has a look of concentration on his face, and you know he must be close. You encourage him to cum, repeatedly.

But before he can, a fifth and final climax hits your body. It has you swearing and calling Joel names, “You fucking bastard,” as your pussy floods and swells around his cock. By this point, there’s a growing puddle beneath your ass, and Joel’s cock is exploring your molten wetness with ease. His flesh claps against yours and echos across the room. His groans are uncontrollable now, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to hold back.

The effort is futile, and he slams into your body, forgetting about being gentle. A stern look of arousal etches upon his face, and a deep, low guttural grunt spills from his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to warn you because his cock surges with a thick, plentiful rope of his cum, and floods your cunt with a warm stickiness. His hands are back and resting against your belly. Joel juts his hips forward, pushing a second load of cum deep into your cunt. He doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlof smut #joel miller kinks #thewordypeach #thewordypeachwrites #wpw #milk #fanfic #smut

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sanarsi · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1

Threesome

QZ!Joel Miller x f!Reader x QZ!Tess

Gif credits @pedropcl

Summary: You have no way to pay for the goods. Tess finds a way for you to pay, Joel joins with pleasure. Warnings: +18, MDNI, threesome, dubcon kinda, pussy eating, fingering, dom!Tess, unprotected PIV, slapping, insults, dom!Joel, cursing, sex for stuff situation, rough sex Wordcount: 1,6k An: Hi babes! So here we are, welcome to this year's Kinktober. This is my first time so please be understanding of my shitty writing. I tried, but you know, when you try, it never works out the way you want it to. Anyway, I hope you have fun and we have a great time together this month :) shot approved by @yori-mik so it passed the horniness test

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

Your visits to Joel's apartment stopped surprising anyone. You needed things that only he could provide you with.

He and Tess.

And you honestly had to admit that you preferred doing business with him instead of her. Tess scared you much more than Joel.

With him, you could always come to some kind of agreement, even when you had no way of paying him, but with her? You could only pray that she wouldn't stab you in the throat, which you doing at this very moment.

"Fucking unbelievable!" she shouted again, making you curl up even more in your chair. "What the fuck you thinkin’ you are?"

She came closer to you, searching for your terrified gaze. You could have sworn that making eye contact with her was like a death sentence.

"I—"

"What? Don't you know that to get the goods you must have cards?" she asked with sarcasm that clenched all your insides. "You little piece of shit, why the fuck are you wastin’ our time?"

"Tess calm down."

"No, Joel." She looked at him, silencing him with just her gaze. Apparently even he was afraid of her when she was angry and you didn't blame him at all. "Now we'll teach you why it's not worth fuckin’ us over."

After those words, you felt her hand on your neck and with a groan of pain you gave in to her. She forced you to stand up and pulled you towards the bed. You fell onto the mattress with a squeal when she pushed you hard. You were afraid of turning around to face her, preferring to lie unconsciously and listen to various rustles and steps.

"Tess, are you serious?" he asked without conviction, standing by her side.

"What? Don't you want to feel a young pussy again?" You shivered when you heard her words and from the tone in which she said it, you knew you were screwed. "I bet she'll do anything to get the stuff. Right?"

The last words were directed at you and even though you could barely catch your breath and wanted to run away, you knew how much you needed these things.

Without overanalyzing the whole situation, you nodded weakly. "Yes."

"See?"

There was silence and you were sure that Joel was trying to convince himself to this idea. He was different than Tess, you noticed that from the very beginning.

"Look, think about it and join us."

The mattress next to you gave way and after a moment you could feel a slap on the ass. You jumped on the spot, scared at the sudden touch and automatically looked to the side.

Tess sat with her back against the wall and nodded encouragingly in your direction. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

You immediately crawled towards her.

She was waiting, naked from the waist down, her legs spread, giving you a perfect view of her cunt.

Your heart stopped in your throat and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. You couldn't remember the last time you had sex, let alone done something like this.

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who was standing like a statue by the bed and just watching. And maybe he was still fighting with himself, but just by his look you knew what this sight was doing to his mind.

Tess grabbed your face, digging her fingers into your cheeks and forcing you to look at her. "My pussy is here, so get to work."

With trembling hands you grabbed her hips and positioned yourself between her legs. You took a deep breath before sinking into her core and running your tongue between her slit. Her scent and taste engulfed your senses as you slowly began to caress her.

First you started to tease her hole, gently dipping the tip of your tongue inside, which elicited her first gasp. "Get to it. I'm not a virgin," she growled impatiently.

So, following her instructions, you made a few circles around her clit and then sucked on her. You managed to coax a moan out of her as you played with her sensitive spot. You spared no effort or teeth, and from what you heard, she didn't mind.

You threw yourself fully into your task, wanting to please her as best you could, and you were doing quite well until Joel's touch threw you off your rhythm. His fingers slid under your pants and in one movement he slid them, along with your panties, down your hips.

You gasped at the sudden contact of your heated skin with the cold air. You forced yourself to keep working, but your thoughts were focused only on the way the mattress dipped behind you and his thighs met yours as he positioned himself between your legs.

“Fuck.” His quiet growl made you shiver. It didn’t take long to feel his fingers on your hole, slowly spreading your juices throughout your pussy. ”So pretty.”

Your moan disappeared into Tess' body, making her shiver under your tongue. You tried to ignore the sound of him unzipping his fly and sliding down his jeans, but with each passing second it was getting harder and harder.

You held on in anticipation of what was to come as if you were at least waiting for your execution.

"She looks like she's never had a cock before," he said, slightly surprised but clearly excited by the vision of your tight hole.

"Bet she's never had one like yours." The pride in her voice made another growl escape his lips.

You dug your fingers deeper into her flesh as you felt him position himself at your entrance, his hand resting on your lower back. Without resistance, you arched more, just like he wanted you to, and moaned as he lowered his tip inside you. He gasped loudly, feeling how tight you were, and slowly began to push deeper, wanting to feel you all around him.

You pressed yourself harder into the woman's cunt to drown out the next sounds of pleasure that wanted to escape from you when Joel crashed his hips into yours. Tess gasped loudly and pressed herself closer to your tongue. You tried to make your movements precise to give her the greatest pleasure, to make her proud of you. But all it took was for Joel to grab your sides tightly and move his hips back just a few inches just to thrust hard into you, to make you lose the last of your ability to think.

Then it was a race against time.

On one side was her, whimpering softly at the sight of her man fucking you with concentration. On the other side was him, growling every time he entered you so deep that he hit your cervix painfully. And in the middle was you, moaning tearfully with each of his thrusts that left you stunned, while trying to force your mouth to do something other than scream.

"I don't feel like you really want these things," Tess snapped, forcing you to focus on your role in all of this. You weren't here for pleasure, you were here because of your own stupidity.

Your lack of reaction was met with a painful slap to your ass from Joel. "She said somethin’."

You understood almost immediately what was expected of you. You slid your hand over her skin, right between her legs, and slowly pushed two fingers inside her, earning a moan from her in response. This only turned Joel on more, and he began to fuck you so hard that the only sound around was the sound of your bodies slapping against each other.

You sucked on her clit like a thirsty one and synchronized the movements of your fingers to Joel's one. Their moans began to drive you crazy, which caused tension to build in your lower abdomen.

"That little brat wants to come," he gasped in amusement, feeling you throb harder and harder around his cock.

But Tess was already too euphoric to respond to his words, more concerned with chasing her own orgasm.

"You want to cream on my cock?" he asked, but all he got in response was an agonized groan that mingled with the older woman's. "Fuck yeah, you do," he growled, slapping your ass again as he sped up his thrusts into you.

Tess was first, squeezing your fingers and throbbing in your mouth as waves of pleasure washed over her. You were right behind her, trembling and squeezing his cock so hard he hissed in pain. You prolonged her pleasure and Joel prolonged yours before he suddenly pulled out of you and after a few loud growls, he came, flooding your ass and back with hot cum.

The room finally fell silent, interrupted by your panting as each of you came down from your peak. It was only when the emotions began to subside that you realized the position you were in and what you had just done.

"That was pretty good." Joel spoke first before he got off the bed with a quiet groan and pulled his pants up. "But not enough to get all the stuff." That sentence caught your attention.

You looked at him not even knowing what to say. After all that, you have to argue about the goods? Hell no.

"What?" You glanced at Tess in panic, but she clearly didn't give a shit about the whole situation, so you turned back to Joel, who was fixing his hair.

He looked at you without a shred of sympathy. "You'll get half. For another, you'll have to try harder."

Still in post-orgasmic shock, you blinked a few times, realizing what today's situation had started.

You were fucked.

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

#sanarsi kinktober 2024 #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel x tess x reader #joel x tess x you #joel miller smut #tess tlou smut #tess smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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fanfictilltheend · 1 year ago

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@bobgirllll asked for another snippet of my VERY DARK (not an understatement -- the entire story explores violence, cycles of abuse, trauma, murder, daddy issues, family issues, domestic violence, child abuse) Stepdad!Mechanic!Ex-Convict!Joel no outbreak, slowburn story.

First part of the story

Basically for context: this is backstory to joel and Y/N's relationship and second part of the story. He knows her for most of her childhood but NOTHING unsavory happens until she is of age!!!!!!! This is how he meets her.

Warnings: Abusive sibling, kids fighting roughly, implied past domestic abuse from a parent, a kid screaming curse words, sarah mentions, afab!you, small amount of blood from injuries, me just writing a self-indulgent intense family drama!!

IF ANY OF THIS make you UNCOMFORTABLE, please click AWAY! YOU are the CURATOR of your ONLINE EXPERIENCE ❤️

It’s Joel’s day off and he’s sitting on the couch in his new home. His back hurts, but that’s nothing new. He’s got an excellent view of their nice, big backyard with a wooden fence. The kind of home he would have liked to have given Sarah. He sighs. Technically, nothing is wrong.

Then he sees it. It takes him a second to realize what is going on. It’s a whirlwind. He sees the back gate open and two tumbling forms fall over the threshold onto the manicured grass. One form is bigger, a boy of about twelve or thirteen beating the shit out of a much smaller form, fists flying. The other form is a little girl, no more than eight, defending herself like her life depends on it. Perhaps it does with the way he’s going at her.

This must be the son, Aiden, and the daughter, Y/N.

He’s a good boy, really, but he has anger issues sometimes. He’s been through a lot. That’s what Erica said, but Joel does not see a good boy. He sees a bully. A disproportionately violent one at that. Nothing that tiny girl could have possibly done could warrant the brutality he sees before him.

Anger is something else Joel knows intimately, and that is what he greets when he runs outside to end the fray.

“Stop that!” he roars, pulling Aiden off of Y/N.

“Who the fuck are you!?” the boy screams, fury and hatred radiating off of his entire being.

He continues thrashing and punching at nothing as Joel restrains him.

“I’m gonna kill her!” he screams, his eyes bulging.

“What the hell happened?” Joel growls, still holding onto the livid boy–verging on young man.

“She ripped up my paper!” he bellows. “For no fucking reason! I worked hard on it!”

“It was a lie,” she says with so much conviction Joel almost flinches.

He looks down at the little girl, her nose bleeding, her right eye turning purple. She has tears streaked down her face, but she is not crying. Her shirt is ripped. The first thing he thinks of when he sees her is Sarah. Of course it’s Sarah, how could he not think of her? But this little girl is different, has a different look in her eye. This look is much harder and feels like she’s lived a thousand lifetimes. He thanks god Sarah never looked that way, but somehow he wants to hear about everything this little girl has experienced. Something twangs in Joel’s chest that he has not felt in what feels like an eternity.

“It was not a lie, you stupid bitch whore!” Aiden shouts angrily, still fighting back against Joel’s unrelenting grip. “Take that back!”

“No, you take it back! Dad is not a hero. You could’ve picked anyone to write about and you choose him? After everything he’s done?” she screams herself.

The sound of her voice is powerful but desperate. Joel feels himself needing to know more and bury himself deep inside her experiences.

“SHUT UP!” Aiden yells, finally ceasing his movements. A tear falls from his cheek.

“If I let you go, will you stop whooping your sister?” Joel snaps firmly.

“Get away from me, you stupid cuck!” Aiden curses, turning his energy to Joel. “Who the hell are you to me? Fuck you! I’m out of here!”

He wriggles out of Joel’s grasp and Joel lets him go and Aiden storms back out the rear gate, slamming it behind him.

“You alright?” he asks Y/N.

Joel crawls over on his knees, still upright, closer to her.

“Had worse,” she shrugs, running a hand through her messed-up hair.

She wipes the tears and blood from her cheeks.

Joel shudders to imagine what she means.

“He always like that?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “So you Mom’s new boyfriend?”

“Something like that,” he nods back.”’M Joel. Joel Miller.”

“I’m Y/N,” she says a bit mournfully. “Here,” she continues suddenly, reaching out a small hand to his cheek. She wipes blood (hers) gently off his stubbly face. “Didn’t mean to get ya dirty.”

Joel is nothing short of touched. He wasn’t even aware he could still have such a feeling. His cheeks go rosy pink. His heart pulses. He stares at her delicate hands and notices a long, thin scar on her left middle finger.

“‘S no trouble, sweetheart,” he hears himself reassuring her. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Could even mend your shirt if ya want. Know how to sew and all.”

He reaches out a large hand, but she flinches at the sudden movement. A dull ache wells up in Joel’s chest.

“Not gonna hurt you, honey. Swear it.”

He wants with every fiber of his being for her to believe him, for it to be true.

She takes his hand.

Comments/thoughts/likes/reblogs welcome!!!

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joelsrose · 1 day ago

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Guns and Roses: Chapter 10

I KNOW I POSTED LAST NIGHT BUT I COULDN'T STOP MYSELF - HERE ENOYYY EEEEEEKKK

TW: VIOLENCE ANGST PUNCHING BRUISING

masterlist

“That guy’s a fucking asshole,” Caleb muttered as you walked in from dinner. You barely glanced his way, too emotionally drained to unpack the night’s events. The weight of it pressed down on you as you stood by the nightstand, brushing your hair in silent, rhythmic strokes, hoping the familiar motion might somehow clear the ache in your chest.

But even now, you could still feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on your face, his touch lingering as though he’d never really pulled away. He had been close—closer than you’d prepared for—and in that charged moment, you felt an undeniable pull, an ache that seemed to pulse through you, quietly urging him to close the distance. His lips, soft and pink, flashed in your mind like an oasis you hadn’t dared to reach, a forbidden place you’d denied yourself.

A wave of regret washed over you as you remembered the way he’d paused, held back, waiting for the smallest signal from you. You hadn’t given it, hadn’t let him know. And now, here in the quiet of this room, the memory of his nearness was all you had, and you couldn’t help but wish you’d crossed that line.

When you didn’t respond, Caleb lowered the book he’d been reading, placing it flat on his chest, his gaze heavy as he studied you through the mirror. The silence between you was thick, pressing down on you with an unspoken weight that made your hands falter as they brushed over your hair.

"Did you two ever…?" he asked finally, the question hanging in the air.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze for a moment before looking away. "No. We didn’t…never." The words were out quickly. You focused on your reflection, refusing to let your eyes drift back to his, hoping he wouldn’t see the flicker of hesitation that even you could feel deep down.

"Good." His reply was soft, almost a sigh, but it held a note of finality, a quiet relief he wanted to believe.

And it wasn’t a lie. You hadn’t crossed that line with Joel—not in the way Caleb feared. But there was something there, something you couldn’t name or give shape to, something that felt almost tangible in the way it filled every moment you shared with him. It was more than physical; it was a pull, a quiet force that you’d been holding back from fully understanding.

The memory of Joel’s expression tonight crept into your mind—how he’d looked at you with that pained intensity as you told him it was too late, that you were marrying Caleb. You’d said it with such conviction, surprising even yourself. The words had sounded so solid, so sure. But beneath that certainty was a war raging, a clash between the promise you’d made and the longing you still felt, a pull rooted so deeply in your gut it left an ache.

And now, in the stillness of this room, with Caleb’s expectant silence pressing against you, you wondered if that ache would ever truly fade—or if it was something you’d carry, a quiet, constant reminder of the path you hadn’t taken.

It wasn’t fair to Caleb. Every time he reached for your hand or pressed his lips to yours, you felt a pang of guilt, knowing he deserved someone who loved him without reservations, without ghosts lingering in her mind.

He deserved someone who wouldn’t drift away in thought at the feel of his hand, someone who didn’t close her eyes and wonder what it might be like if it were someone else.

You could feel the warmth of his affection, the weight of his love, and yet here you were, holding pieces of yourself back, leaving parts of your heart that he would never reach.

As you slipped into bed, Caleb broke the silence again, his voice hesitant but with a hint of determination. “I was thinking…maybe we could bring the wedding forward. Why wait?” His eyes searched yours, hopeful, trying to find some reflection of his own certainty. But you kept your gaze on the ceiling, your mind somewhere distant.

A part of you wanted to say yes—not out of some sweeping, undeniable love, but out of a quiet desperation for stability, a need to root yourself in something certain, someone who could finally drown out the constant hum of Joel in your mind.

You hoped that by making those vows, sealing your commitment in words as binding as they were final, you might stitch a clean line across the tangled feelings you held for him, quieting them to a faint, harmless echo.

But as the words hovered on the edge of your tongue, a knot of unease twisted deep in your gut, a silent protest rising within you, unyielding and impossible to ignore.

"…Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’m tired." You rolled over onto your side, putting a small but needed distance between you.

“Alright. Goodnight,” he murmured softly, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder.

It should have felt comforting, grounding—something to pull you closer to the life you’d chosen.

But as he settled beside you, you lay there, eyes shut, wishing to feel something, anything at all.

•••

Days passed, and somehow it felt even worse knowing that Joel was somewhere in town, close but entirely out of reach. The weight of it settled in your chest—a hollow ache that you knew you had no right to feel. After all, you’d been the one to tell him it was too late, that you had chosen a different path.

But really, what choice had there been?

Life with Joel had always been a storm, unpredictable and wild, leaving you to gather the scattered pieces of yourself whenever he was gone.

As you moved through your days, running errands, keeping busy with mundane tasks—picking up supplies, stopping by the market, helping Maria with the garden—you found yourself glancing up each time you heard footsteps, your heart giving a hopeful leap before reason set in. Every time the doorbell chimed at the general store or someone rounded a corner on the main street, you’d scan their face, just in case it might be him. You told yourself it was foolish, that you shouldn’t expect him, but the habit was unbreakable.

Each disappointment left a quiet bruise. The truth was, you felt lost, untethered, like you were moving without a map. You were standing at a crossroads, one side offering you the safe, steady life you thought you wanted, and the other pulling you toward a need you barely understood, a pull so strong it scared the light right out of you.

Later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden haze over everything it touched, the world seemed to glow in quiet reverence. Long shadows stretched across the ground, and the leaves caught the fading light, turning them into flickering embers of orange and red. It was a rare, perfect moment, as if the day itself was holding its breath.

“Hey, Ellie,” you called softly, spotting her standing at the edge of the porch. She stood with her gaze lowered, her shoulders tight, her usual spark dimmed and subdued. When she looked up, there was a heaviness in her eyes, a weight she carried with a quiet resilience that made your heart ache. You could see it—the struggle she didn’t want anyone else to notice, the weariness she’d tried so hard to hide.

"Did you want to come in?" you offered, gesturing toward the door.

She shook her head quickly. "No…out here’s fine."

You nodded, leaning against the railing, giving her space. She shifted on her feet, hands shoved deep in her pockets, a trace of hesitation flickering across her face.

"I wanted to…say sorry about dinner," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was really fucking stupid of me.”

You offered her a gentle smile. "Hey, don’t worry about it. Really."

But you could see the regret in her eyes, a silent apology lingering there. Without thinking, you opened your arms, and after a moment’s hesitation, she stepped forward, letting you pull her into a hug. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, and as she leaned into you, you felt her release a small, shuddering sigh, like she’d been holding her breath under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes met yours with an unusual intensity. "Has Joel…spoken to you?" she asked, her voice careful, like she was treading on fragile ground.

You nodded, averting your gaze, not quite sure where this was headed. "Yeah…we’ve spoken a little. Why?" Your tone came out a little guarded, betraying the unease stirring within you—you hadn’t expected her to bring him up.

Ellie hesitated, a look of vulnerability flickering in her eyes. "Did he…explain everything?"

You exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the admission settle over you. “Honestly? I was so angry, I didn’t really give him a chance to explain.” Running your fingers through your hair, you let out a weary sigh. “And…I’m not even sure it would change anything.”

She paused, her eyes searching your face, a flicker of disappointment shadowing her expression. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, choosing her words carefully.

Finally, with a surprising gravity, she looked directly at you and asked, “Do you love him?”

"What?" you whispered, caught off guard.

“Do you love Joel?” she repeated, her gaze unwavering. “Because if you do, it matters.”

You were about to respond, ready to deflect, but Ellie didn’t give you the chance. In a quiet, deliberate motion, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing an unmistakable bite mark—jagged, the edges tinged with an unnatural red, yet somehow healed into a scar that seemed etched into her very soul. Your heart stopped, your breath caught as you stared at it, struggling to comprehend a reality you’d never imagined possible.

“I’m immune,” she said, her voice steady, though it carried an ache that had clearly weighed on her for a long time.

The world seemed to narrow to that bite, to the raw truth it held. Immune. The word echoed in your mind, almost too big to grasp, reshaping everything you thought you knew. That scar wasn’t just a mark—it was a revelation, a silent testament to survival against the impossible.

“I got bitten, years ago,” she began, her voice even and steady, each word carefully controlled, like she’d repeated this story to herself so many times that the shock of it had dulled, fading into a familiar ache. “And…I didn’t turn.” She paused, letting the weight of those words settle between you, their meaning unfathomable.

“Before we left, I was on patrol,” she continued, her gaze distant, focused somewhere beyond the room. “Those raiders—they knew about me. They were after me, after what I am. They want a cure, and to them, I’m the key. That’s why I had to leave Jackson, why I had to disappear.” She swallowed, a shadow flickering across her face. “They’d kill me to get what they wanted.”

She turned back to you, her eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity. “Joel left because he was protecting me,” she said, her voice soft but unwavering. The words seemed to carry a depth of gratitude, pain, and loyalty that went beyond anything she’d ever let show before.

Her words sank into you like stones, heavy and undeniable, pulling you into the depths of everything she’d endured. For a brief moment, she looked scared, as if expecting you to recoil, to look at her with fear in your eyes. But all you could see was this girl—this brave, burdened girl who had lost so much and carried this unimaginable weight alone.

“Oh, Ellie…” you whispered, pulling her into a hug, holding her tightly, hoping it might lessen the weight she carried, even if just for a moment.

She mumbled against your shoulder, her voice muffled but tinged with her usual dry humor, “Are we just gonna hug all day?”

“Yes,” you replied softly, your arms wrapped around her. “Yes, we are.”

With Ellie against your chest, you found yourself lost in thought. Joel hadn’t abandoned you out of indifference; he had shouldered the enormous weight of keeping Ellie safe, protecting a secret that was far bigger than either of you. You thought about all he’d lost, the sacrifices he’d made, and the toll it had taken on him—the way it had hollowed him out, leaving a shell of the man you once knew.

A pang of guilt twisted within you, regret pooling in your chest as you realized how quickly you’d dismissed him, how you hadn’t given him the chance to bare his soul, to explain the truth he’d been carrying alone for so long.

Last night, he had practically begged for that chance, and you had turned away.

You pulled back, subtly brushing a tear from your eye, but Ellie noticed. She looked at you, her voice soft, gentle, as if she understood just how deep this conversation was cutting. “So…it’s not his fault. If you love him…please, don’t let this be the reason you don’t.”

A pang of guilt twisted in your chest, sharpening the ache that had already settled there. “Ellie, I…I spent a year thinking you two were dead. He could’ve left a note…anything.” The hurt slipped out, raw and honest, surprising even you.

Ellie snorted, a wry smile breaking through the tension. “Yeah, well, Joel’s a fucking idiot sometimes. But he’s your idiot, y’know? And if you feel even a tiny bit of what he does for you, then you’ve gotta let that Caleb guy go.”

You blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “Ellie!”

“I’m serious!” she threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice taking on that familiar blunt edge. “Jesus, I feel like a damn couples counselor here, but come on. Think about it. Really think about it.”

Her words lingered in the air as she turned to leave, cutting straight to the heart of your indecision, leaving you with no easy escape. You could only give her a silent nod, your mind louder than it had been in a long time.

•••

It was your birthday.

Once, this day had been filled with meaning—sun-soaked afternoons at the beach, laughter stretching into late nights, bouquets of flowers from a boyfriend who felt like he knew you better than anyone. Back then, it was a day to celebrate, a marker of joy. But now, it felt different, a quiet reminder of time passing, of things that had faded and slipped away.

You groaned as the blinds opened, spilling bright, uninvited light across the room, tugging you from the last, lingering fragments of a dream. Caleb leaned over, pressing soft kisses across your face, each one gentle and warm.

But somehow, the touch felt…misplaced, like an ill-fitting piece in a puzzle. Your mind betrayed you, drifting to thoughts of Joel—to the imagined sensation of his rough beard brushing against your cheek, the warmth of his presence unmistakable, something that lingered even in his absence.

"Good morning, baby. Happy birthday," Caleb murmured, his voice warm, affectionate, grounding.

You forced a smile, whispering, “Morning,” while your thoughts drifted somewhere else.

Caleb clapped his hands together, the sound bright and eager. "Alright! Get up, get dressed. I’ve got a surprise for you," he announced, his excitement almost childlike, lighting up the room.

You groaned, rolling your eyes playfully. “You know I hate surprises.”

But that was a lie, wasn’t it? You remembered the time Joel had taken you to the farm, how he’d planned every detail with an unexpected tenderness. And that other time he’d led you out under the vast night sky, revealing that he’d named a star after you, his shoulders brushing against yours.

The man had literally gifted you a piece of the heavens, and that memory burned brighter than anything else.

•••

You got dressed, brushing off Caleb’s playful protests as he tried to convince you to let him blindfold you. “Come on, just this once!” he begged, grinning as the two of you strolled side by side down the street. But you could already guess where he was leading you.

Maria’s house.

Sure enough, as you reached her porch, he made one final attempt. “Okay, let me put it on now, just so they think we walked the whole way like this.”

“Fine,” you relented, laughing as you let him tie the scarf over your eyes. His laughter mixed with yours as he guided you up the steps and inside.

The warmth of Maria’s house wrapped around you instantly, filled with the familiar scents of home-cooked food and fresh coffee. You could hear rustling, hushed whispers, and the occasional stifled giggle—a poor attempt at hiding what was clearly waiting for you. But it brought a genuine smile to your face, their clumsy enthusiasm both endearing and comforting.

“Alright, take it off now,” Caleb whispered, barely containing his excitement.

As he slipped the scarf from your eyes, a chorus of voices filled the room. “Surprise!”

You blinked, taken aback even though you’d guessed it. Around you stood everyone who mattered—Maria, Ellie, Tommy, each face smiling with warmth and sincerity. You took it all in, grateful for each of them. But as your eyes swept across the room, you felt a small, inexplicable pang in your chest.

Joel wasn’t there.

Of course he wouldn’t be. You’d been the one to end things, to say it was too late. He had no reason to show up, no reason to pretend it didn’t still hurt. And yet, the emptiness of his absence gnawed at you, a hollow ache you hadn’t expected, a vacancy that cast a subtle shadow over the gathering.

For a moment, you almost laughed at yourself, at how foolish it was to feel his absence so sharply amidst people who loved you.

Maria’s hug grounded you, pulling you back into the moment. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a gentle warmth that seeped into your heart.

“Happy birthday, sunshine!” Tommy chimed in, his baby balanced on one hip, his grin wide and teasing. “You’re getting old!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Not as old as you, Tommy.”

Ellie was next, bounding over with her usual mischievous smirk. “Happy birthday! Don’t worry, I didn’t get you anything lame,” she added, with a wink that drew a laugh from you.

You glanced around, noticing the mismatched wrapping paper on a small pile of gifts, streamers drooping from the ceiling, looking like they’d survived a few birthdays already.

Somehow, the makeshift charm of it all was perfect. “Guys…you didn’t have to do all this,” you said, a hint of emotion tightening your voice.

Tommy grinned, nodding at Caleb. “All your man’s idea. He wanted to make this one special.”

You looked over at Caleb, his face beaming with pride and affection. “Thank you,” you murmured, giving him a soft kiss, hoping the gesture might quiet the conflicted feelings bubbling up beneath the surface.

“Alright, enough of that,” Caleb said, clapping his hands with a grin. “Let’s get to the presents!” He gently steered you toward the center of the living room, where the small pile of gifts awaited, each one carrying a personal touch from those who cared about you.

You settled onto the floor, surrounded by colorful packages, each one wrapped with care. Caleb handed you the first gift, and you carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a beautifully scented candle—a blend of lavender and cedar, one of Lydia’s creations from her little workshop on the edge of Jackson.

“Oh, I love this! Who’s it from?” you asked, holding up the candle and breathing in the familiar scent.

“Uh-uh,” Tommy chimed in, grinning from the couch as he crossed his arms. “You gotta guess—makes it more fun.”

You smiled, glancing around the room, already having an idea. “Maria. She knows I’m obsessed with this scent.”

“Guilty,” Maria laughed, raising her hand with a playful shrug. “Thought it’d be perfect for you.”

Next, you picked up a small, oddly shaped package wrapped in newspaper with tape clumsily slapped on every edge. Inside was a mug, boldly painted with “#1 Old Person” in bright letters, complete with a cartoon of a grumpy face and a cane.

You raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. “Let me guess…Ellie?”

Ellie groaned, crossing her arms. “What? I thought it was perfect!” she said, though her grin was unmistakable. “I mean, you’re getting up there, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, holding the mug up to show everyone. “This is…incredibly accurate. Thanks, Ellie,” you said, trying to look serious as you held back a smile.

Ellie shrugged, her smirk widening. “Just keeping you humble.”

Tommy’s gift came next, wrapped in an old flannel shirt and tied with a strip of leather. You unwrapped it to reveal a sturdy, worn pocketknife, the blade engraved with delicate etchings of mountains and pine trees, like the landscapes around Jackson. It had clearly seen its share of use but had been cleaned and polished until it gleamed.

“Thought you could use a reliable blade,” Tommy said with a grin, leaning back with that familiar glint of pride. “Got a lot of history in that one. Used to belong to one of the rangers around here, way back when.”

You turned it over in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness of the handle that felt perfectly worn to fit. It wasn’t just practical; it felt like a piece of the land, of all the paths you’d come to know.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you said, meeting his gaze. “It’s…perfect. Really.”

Soon, only two small packages remained beside you. You looked around, eyebrows raised, wondering who might’ve gone out of their way to get you two gifts. You picked up the first one, turning it over in your hands, curiosity prickling at you.

The package was wrapped with a care and precision that immediately drew your attention. It was covered in a soft, natural brown paper, the kind that felt textured under your fingertips, like it had been chosen intentionally. A delicate rope ribbon was tied around the top, carefully knotted and finished with a small, neat bow—a touch that made it feel personal, thoughtful, like someone had taken their time to make this moment feel special.

You slowly undid the ribbon, your fingers grazing over the rough twine as you pulled back the paper. Inside was a packet of rose seeds, their delicate promise of life and color held in each tiny seed. The simple, quiet beauty of it took you by surprise, and your heart swelled, a rush of unexpected joy flooding through you.

Seeds like this were rare, a near-impossible find. You’d managed to cultivate a few hardy plants in your garden, but roses—roses were a dream you’d given up on long ago. Caleb must have gone out of his way, venturing further on patrol, searching specifically for these, knowing how much they’d mean to you.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, wrapping your arms around him, the weight of the gesture sinking in.

In this moment, everything felt right—solid and certain, grounded in this small but powerful act of care. For the first time, you felt a sense of calm about your future with him, a glimmer of peace in the middle of all the chaos.

“Caleb, this is incredible—how did you even find these?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder.

But as you looked up at Caleb, a strange, pained expression crossed his face. His eyes flickered, a brief moment of something almost like discomfort, his smile fading as he seemed to brace himself.

He looked queasy, unsteady, as if something within him had just cracked. “Uh…that’s not from me,” he murmured, his voice sounding hollow, almost broken. He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

The words sank in slowly, and you felt yourself pull back, the warmth of the moment slipping away as confusion took its place. The room fell into a tense, awkward silence, a stillness that felt like it stretched forever. You glanced around, searching for answers in the faces around you, but all you found was the same look of surprise and discomfort reflected back at you.

Then, with a crushing inevitability, it hit you.

Joel. It was Joel.

The truth settled over you like a weight, dragging you down as the air seemed to still around you. The seeds—the rare, impossible seeds, the effort someone would have gone to just to find them, to make them yours. It had Joel written in every detail, every small, unspoken gesture meant to convey what words never could. The realization clawed at you, turning what had been a moment of pure joy into something complicated, something unbearably tender and painful all at once.

Your fingers tightened around the packet, the tiny seeds now feeling impossibly heavy in your hands, as if they held all the things left unsaid between you.

You didn’t dare look up, didn’t want to see the pity or confusion on anyone’s face, least of all Caleb’s. The warmth of his love, the comfort you had just found, suddenly felt fragile, slipping through your fingers as your heart twisted with the undeniable truth that, despite everything, Joel had left his mark on you, deep and unshakeable.

•••

You sat with Maria on the couch, the gentle hum of conversation around you fading as Tommy, Ellie, and Caleb headed outside to set up a fire pit. Their voices blended into low laughter and the crackle of kindling, a comforting sound that drifted back to the house.

Caleb had gifted you a leather-bound journal, its pages blank and waiting, a thoughtful gesture, especially since yours had nearly run out of space. Yet, somehow, the gift felt strangely hollow, unable to fill the silence left behind by everything else you couldn’t voice.

Maria’s voice cut softly through your thoughts. “He’s on patrol,” she said, her tone quiet but knowing, as if she understood more than she let on.

You looked at her, catching her gaze, something flickering there that made you feel seen in a way you weren’t ready for.

She nodded gently. “He wanted to come,” she continued, “but he couldn’t miss his shift.”

“Oh.” You tried to keep your voice even, unaffected, but you felt an unbidden rush of relief mingling with a strange disappointment.

Why did knowing he wanted to be here, but couldn’t, make your chest tighten? Why did it bring that bittersweet feeling creeping in, like a sigh you couldn’t let go of?

He would have been here if he could.

“But he’ll be there tonight,” Maria added, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, her tone light but carrying a hint of something unspoken.

“Tonight?” You glanced at her, feeling a sudden stir of curiosity tangled with a wary edge. “What do you mean?”

Maria raised her eyebrows, her expression feigning innocence but laced with amusement. “Ah, Caleb and his damn surprises. Guess he didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head, an odd mix of dread and excitement swirling in your chest, tightening like a knot. The idea of seeing Joel—of being in the same room after the weight of today’s revelations—left your mind in a quiet spin.

“We’re all heading to the Tipsy Bison tonight,” she said, giving your knee a reassuring pat. “Figured we’d celebrate properly, give you a chance to unwind.”

“Sounds…nice,” you murmured, managing a small smile.

Maria leaned closer, a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, I have another gift for you…but I didn’t want to show Caleb up. Though, I think that ship might’ve already sailed.”

“Maria!” you protested, but you couldn’t help laughing with her.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, her chuckles spilling over as she led you upstairs. “Sorry, that was mean.” She caught her breath, grinning. “But still—you’re gonna love this.”

“You’re such an ass,” you teased, nudging her as you followed her into her room.

“Here it is,” she said, reaching into her closet.

There it hung - a dress crafted by Maria, a vision of elegance and simplicity. Made from a soft, creamy fabric, it hugged the body in all the right places, flowing naturally down to a midi length that grazed just below the knees. The neckline was a gentle scoop, the capped sleeves curved gracefully over the shoulders, lending the dress a vintage charm.

Scattered across the dress were small, floral cutouts, almost like dainty stars punctuating the fabric, allowing subtle glimpses of skin beneath. The fabric managed to be both demure and alluring, with a timeless, almost ethereal quality, as if it belonged to another era yet felt perfectly suited for the present.

It was a dress that could turn heads in any room—simple, beautiful, and quietly captivating.

You stared, momentarily speechless. “Maria…this is stunning.”

She smiled, giving you a nudge. “I thought you might like it. Figured it was time you had something as beautiful as you are.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you ran a hand over the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric beneath your fingertips. “I’ll wear it tonight,” you said softly, a touch of excitement sparking within you.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves, the unmistakable butterflies in your stomach—a feeling you hadn’t encountered in a while. It was both thrilling and unnerving, like something had shifted inside you, but you couldn’t quite name it.

As you walked toward the Tipsy Bison, your mind wandered to Joel. You pictured him leaning against the bar, his usual presence a quiet, magnetic force.

Would he say hello? Would he give you space, giving no more than a polite nod? Would he even bother to acknowledge you?

As you made your way through the crowd at the bar, the subtle signs of birthday decorations became apparent—scavenged balloons in soft pastel shades, a few whispers of “Happy birthday” as you passed familiar faces. Caleb’s hand rested lightly on your lower back, a small but constant touch that didn’t go unnoticed.

When Caleb saw you come down the stairs from Maria’s room, wearing that dress, his breath caught in his throat. You were a vision in cream, the soft fabric catching the dim light of the bar, and for a split second, he thought about you standing at the altar, ready to take his last name, ready to belong to him completely.

"Let’s get the birthday girl a fucking drink!" Tommy exclaimed, his voice already tinged with the warmth of a few drinks, clearly eager to get the night started.

"Cheers to another year older and wiser!" he added, lifting his glass high with a grin.

"Cheers," you echoed, raising your glass, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders as you took in the faces around you. The warmth of the room, the laughter, and the clinking of glasses felt almost surreal.

You found yourself scanning the room, searching for Joel, an unspoken urgency tightening in your chest. Where was he?

“Looking for someone?” Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned, feeling a flicker of disappointment you couldn’t quite hide.

“Oh, there you are,” you replied, forcing a smile, but the words felt hollow, empty. The brightness in his eyes didn’t reach you, and for a brief, guilty moment, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your heart that only one person seemed to fill.

“Let’s dance,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you onto the dance floor. His touch was warm, but there was something detached in the way he held you, something that didn’t settle right in your chest.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, as you began to sway to the soft thrum of music in the background.

“Thank you,” you replied, your words automatic as your gaze flickered toward the door of the Tipsy Bison, your heart still fluttering with anticipation.

You tried to focus on the rhythm of your movements, the way the soft music swirled around you, but your mind kept drifting, restless.

A voice summoned Caleb away, murmuring something about a cake you weren’t supposed to know about. He shook his head, clearly frustrated that the moment had to end. "I'll be right back," he promised, his gaze lingering.

You chuckled softly, not wanting to make it harder for him to leave. “It’s fine, really. Go on—I’ll find Maria in the meantime.”

You turned to find her and Tommy somewhere in the crowd, but then you felt it—the pull. A visceral, gut-wrenching tug that stole the breath from your lungs, like some magnetic force had wrapped itself around your very core.

It was something primal, something undeniable, surging through you like lightning, an irresistible draw toward the one person you hadn’t been able to shake from your heart, not even for a moment.

He was here.

You gasped quietly, the sound caught somewhere between a breath and a whisper as you turned. And there he was.

Joel.

Your heart thundered wildly, drowning out every other sound as you took him in. He looked achingly handsome, cleaned up in a way you’d never seen—his beard trimmed to perfection, each hair deliberate yet effortlessly rugged. He wore a dark button-up that fit him with an almost devastating precision, every line and curve of him highlighted, yet softened by the shirt’s deep hue. His hair was slicked back, adding a polish to his usual rough edges.

His gaze swept the room, searching, until it found you. And when his eyes landed on you, a subtle shift crossed his face—a flicker of uncertainty melting into something so tender, so open it felt like a gift.

A slow, guarded smile broke across his lips, the kind of smile that felt rare and carefully offered. And despite yourself, you mirrored it, warmth spreading through your chest, leaving you breathless, your heart catching as you looked back at him.

He started toward you, his steps almost tentative, as if each one took more courage than the last. There was something shy in the way he approached, and it was so painfully sweet that it left a hollow ache, a dizzying rush, a feeling you couldn’t name but felt in every fiber of your being.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug that felt like it wrapped around every inch of you, enveloping you in a warmth that made the world fall away.

His arms were strong, steady, and as he held you, you felt your knees weaken, the weight of his presence overwhelming yet grounding. You clung to him, not daring to move, as if letting go would break whatever fragile spell had pulled him here, to you, in this moment.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the words barely making it past the thundering pulse in your ears. It felt like your heart had taken up residence in your throat, every beat a reminder of how real he was, how close.

“I, uh…” He trailed off, his voice catching, and for a heartbeat, you saw him—truly saw him—vulnerable, a hint of hesitation softening the hard lines of his face. “I wanted to come by earlier, but I got caught up on patrol.”

“Maria told me,” you replied, your words spilling out before you could even think, laced with a breathlessness you couldn’t hide.

He nodded, a flicker of something almost bashful passing over his face, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to hold back. There was a gentleness in his expression, a quiet depth that made your chest ache, that left you wanting to memorize every line, every flicker of his gaze.

“Did you…did you get my gift?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. That roughness in his tone, usually so sure, now carried a raw, unguarded edge, and in that single question, you could feel the weight of every unspoken word between you—tender and vulnerable, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded, your smile deepening. “It was perfect,” you murmured, warmth flooding your chest as you thought of the rose seeds he’d chosen, each one a promise, a quiet gift just for you.

A genuine smile broke across his face, softening those guarded lines, and you realized how long it had been since you’d seen him like this—unguarded, open. “Good,” he said, almost tenderly. “For your garden.”

His gaze traveled over you, lingering in a way that made your heart pound. “That’s… a hell of a dress” he murmured, his voice low, eyes tracing every line and curve, his stare lingering on you as if he was seeing you for the first time, taking in every detail.

A blush crept up your cheeks under the weight of his attention, a rush of warmth that spread through you, leaving you both exposed and exhilarated. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, a fire you couldn’t look away from, and yet…you didn’t want to.

“Thanks… Maria made it,” you replied, voice softer than you meant, struggling to find your footing under his gaze.

He nodded, his gaze flickering briefly around the room, watching the couples swaying together in soft rhythms on the dance floor. There was a pause—a flicker of something in his expression, something that felt like hesitation, vulnerability even. Then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, he asked, “May I?”

This was dangerous, reckless—you shouldn’t, you thought. Not with your fiancé just a few feet away, busy in the kitchen preparing your birthday cake.

But something in you betrayed that logic, and after a heartbeat, you nodded, surrendering. His hand slipped around yours, warm and steady, and he led you onto the dance floor. The moment felt surreal, as if the world had slipped into a different time and space where only the two of you existed.

Everything around you dissolved—the lights, the murmurs of other people, even the steady hum of music. All that was left was him, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you in gentle steps that felt too right, too natural, like you had always been meant to move this way together. The rhythm of the song was a soft thrum in the background, intimate and unhurried, but it was his presence that overpowered it, anchoring you, drawing you closer.

With each step, every subtle shift, you felt yourself spiraling deeper into his orbit, as if the universe had tilted just to place you here, in this fragile, fleeting moment. And for now, just this once, you let yourself be swept away, the rest of the world dissolving like a forgotten dream.

The soft fairy lights strung across the Tipsy Bison cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating his eyes until they looked like molten honey—rich, deep, filled with secrets and stories you’d give anything to know. Those eyes were the kind that made the air hitch in your lungs, made you feel as if you were the only person in his world.

And under his gaze, you almost believed it.

Your hands intertwined perfectly, his fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt like a homecoming, as though they’d always been meant to find solace there. His other hand settled low on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle, rhythmic circles against you, a touch so grounding yet tender it sent a warmth spreading through you. His movements guided you in a slow, unhurried sway, the two of you falling effortlessly into a rhythm that matched the music’s soft, steady beat.

“Where… where’d you find the seeds?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant, eyes searching his face, trying to catch every flicker of expression.

“When Ellie and I were… uh, gone,” he began, his voice steady yet laced with something raw, something fragile. He looked down, his gaze drifting to the floor before meeting yours again. “Found ’em and thought of you. Kept ’em, just in case I ever…” He trailed off, the unfinished words hanging heavily between you, laden with all the things he’d never said, all the things that had gone unspoken but never unfelt.

The space around you thickened, the weight of his thoughtfulness settling into every unspoken inch between you. He hadn’t merely thought of you in passing—he’d carried you with him, held onto this small piece of hope, even when it seemed like whatever you had was just a distant memory, too far gone to ever reach again.

“Oh.” The word slipped from your lips, barely above a whisper, your heart thundering in your chest as you absorbed everything his quiet confession held. You looked up at him, feeling the impact of everything you’d just learned, the depths he’d gone to, the things he’d kept close.

“Ellie told me.”

You felt him still, his hand pressing a little firmer against your hip, grounding himself in the moment. “She did?” His voice was barely audible, tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite name—relief? Regret? A complicated blend of both.

“Yeah,” you replied, voice trembling. “She told me everything… about her bite, about why you left.”

When he finally looked back at you, there was a glimmer of something vulnerable in his eyes—a quiet, almost desperate hope that made your chest ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Joel?” The question slipped out, your voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy enough to linger in the air. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Or… at least leave a note?”

The sounds around you faded, the music dimming to nothing as his expression shifted, his gaze dropping. He seemed to struggle, the silence stretching out between you until it felt like it could crack under the weight of everything unsaid.

Finally, he spoke, his voice rough and raw. “I know,” he muttered, barely above a whisper, each word weighed down with regret. “I know it was…fucking stupid. Should’ve told you, should’ve explained. There’s no excuse—I should’ve just…should’ve told you, I think.” He paused, swallowing hard, his gaze dropping as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “I was scared, and I know that sounds like a damn pathetic excuse, but… it’s the truth.”

He took a shaky breath, as if gathering the courage to continue. “I thought if I just… left quietly, it wouldn’t feel so real. But saying goodbye… I couldn’t face it. Couldn’t face you.” His voice wavered, a crack of vulnerability slipping through. “And now I’d do anything to go back, to change it all. Anything.”

There was a painful honesty in his tone, an ache that seemed to reach down to his very core. His shoulders tensed, his jaw set with the weight of guilt he’d been carrying, a guilt that had carved itself deep into him.

You could see it in the way his gaze wavered, as if he couldn’t quite meet your eyes, as if he was bracing himself for whatever judgment you might cast. In that moment, he was laid bare, stripped of his usual guarded strength, showing you the bruises he kept hidden—the hurt he’d caused himself by walking away.

You stayed silent, the words tangled up in your chest, knotted and aching, fighting to break free.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, carrying a weight that felt almost too heavy to bear. The words hung in the air, soft yet resonant, filled with regret, with longing, with an ache you hadn’t realized was still so raw.

He looked at you, his eyes widening just slightly, a glimmer of something fragile lighting in his gaze. “You… did?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant, like he didn’t dare believe it, yet there was a quiet desperation in his expression—a need to hear it, to let himself hope, even if it was dangerous. The look he gave you made the air feel heavier, thick with all the emotions you’d been holding back.

“Of course I did,” you replied, meeting his gaze and feeling your heart twist at the vulnerability in his face. “You took care of me in ways I didn’t even realize until you were gone.” Your voice dropped, and you looked down, feeling your chest tighten. “I—I couldn’t sleep for months without you there beside me. Didn’t want to admit it, but… it felt like I was drowning without you.”

He looked at you now like you were the answer to something he’d been searching for, as if those words had bridged a chasm he’d thought was too wide to ever cross.

The confession slipped out, raw and unguarded, before you could even think to hold it back. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you were better off without him, telling yourself that you’d moved on, that you didn’t need him.

But the truth was, you hadn’t been whole since he left. Each night, lying alone in the vast emptiness of your bed, it felt as though some vital piece of you was missing, like a wound that refused to heal.

“I thought about you every day,” he murmured, his voice thick, laced with a depth of emotion that made your chest ache. The words lingered between you, heavy with the weight of everything he’d kept buried.

In his eyes, you could see it—the regret, the longing, the silent, unyielding truth he’d been carrying alone. And in that moment, he wasn’t hiding anymore; he was letting himself be seen, stripped of all pretense, finally letting you see the vulnerability he’d kept locked away.

His hand slid down to your hip, then rose slowly, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away, before settling on your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a touch so light it felt like it might disappear if you blinked.

It was intoxicating—not the whiskey, but the overwhelming gravity of him, the way his mere presence made you feel more alive, more vulnerable, than you’d ever thought possible.

Only he could do this—make you feel utterly exposed and entirely safe, with just the whisper of his fingers against your skin.

His thumb drifted down, grazing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, his gaze following the movement with a fierce, aching intensity, as though he were memorizing every detail, committing the sensation to memory. “To think,” he murmured, his voice a rough blend of regret and yearning, “I never got to kiss these lips.”

“Joel…” The whisper slipped from your lips, trembling, as if your own voice could barely contain the weight of his name. The ground beneath you felt like it was crumbling, the world narrowing to this one breathless moment. Your knees weakened, a quiet surrender overtaking you, and for the first time, you felt helplessly, beautifully powerless, lost in the ache between his fingertips and his gaze.

You felt his hand slip to the back of your neck, steadying you as he drew you closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, the solid strength of him grounding you in a way that nothing else could. He gave you a sad smile, one that broke something inside you, because it was tinged with so much sorrow it never quite reached his eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice soft, a little rough, almost like a plea. His hand slid up, guiding you until your head rested against his chest, your ear pressed to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “Just… let me hold you,” he whispered, his words thick with an ache he couldn’t hide. “Please… don’t say anything.”

You nodded, sensing the unspoken fear in his eyes—the fear that you might tell him to stop, to pull back, to shatter this fragile closeness he so desperately clung to.

In his arms, you felt something deeper than comfort; it was a sense of belonging, a promise wrapped in the warmth of his hold, a silent assurance that, for this brief moment, everything was as it should be. And yet, somewhere beneath that warmth, there was an ache—a quiet sadness that made it feel like both a beginning and an ending, like a promise and a goodbye, woven together in the quiet, unspoken understanding that neither of you dared to break.

What you didn’t see was Caleb, emerging from the kitchen with a smile that radiated warmth and excitement. His eyes sparkled with the joy of seeing you again, eager to sweep you back into the celebration, to lose himself in the laughter and dance that had defined the night. But as his gaze landed on you and Joel—your hand pressed against Joel’s chest, his arm wrapped around you, the two of you standing impossibly close—Caleb froze.

In an instant, the warmth in his chest turned cold, hardening into a knot of dread that twisted painfully, souring the joy he’d felt only moments before. He saw the way your hand lingered on Joel’s chest, how Joel looked at you with an intensity Caleb could never ignore—a look filled with longing, regret, a depth that seemed to cut straight through him.

Caleb’s chest tightened, his pulse pounding as he took in the scene before him. Here was the man who felt like a shadow over everything Caleb dreamed of—a silent barrier between you and the life he wanted to build, a man who symbolized not just an obstacle, but a threat to the future Caleb had envisioned with you.

•••

A cough broke the silence, slicing through the tension like a blade. Caleb stood in front of you, his expression tightly controlled, but the pain in his eyes spoke louder than words. He wasn’t the kind of man to yell or make a scene, but the quiet devastation in his gaze twisted something deep inside you.

“Mind if I steal my girl for a second?” he said, his voice tight, each word laced with barely contained frustration.

Joel’s shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of resignation crossing his face as he gave a silent nod. He met your eyes one last time, an unspoken regret hanging there, before he backed away, disappearing into the crowd.

You turned to Caleb, forcing a small, uneasy smile, hoping he wouldn’t bring up what he’d just seen. But he didn’t return your smile. Instead, he swallowed, his jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a hurt that made it hard to meet his gaze.

“What the hell was that?” he asked quietly, his voice carrying a restrained intensity, the simmering anger unmistakable.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, but even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow.

“Don’t.” His tone was sharper than you’d ever heard it, a warning edged with pain. “Don’t lie to me. Not now—not when we’re supposed to be getting married in a month.”

“We were just dancing, Caleb,” you insisted, but the words felt feeble, barely convincing even to yourself.

“Stop,” he said, his voice rising slightly, drawing a few glances from the people nearby. His face twisted with a mixture of hurt and frustration, his control slipping. “Don’t act like I didn’t see what was going on. You think I can’t see it? The way you looked at him?”

He took a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he continued, “I need you to be honest with me, because I can’t do this if there’s any part of you that’s still holding onto him.”

“Can we talk about this later?” you pleaded, feeling the weight of curious eyes around you, your voice a quiet entreaty.

“No.” Caleb’s response was immediate, his frustration evident. “We’re talking about this now.”

“Caleb,” you whispered, glancing around at the people watching, feeling exposed. “Please, not here. Not in front of everyone.”

“I don’t care who’s watching,” he said, his voice lower but unyielding. “I deserve to know what’s going on between you two—right now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy and Maria edging closer, their faces etched with concern as they observed the tension building between you and Caleb. Their presence only added to the weight pressing down on you, the intensity of the moment nearly suffocating.

Caleb’s gaze shifted, his frustration boiling over. “Where the hell is he?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tight.

As if summoned by the charged air, Joel appeared beside you, his expression calm but his gaze sharp as he looked at Caleb. “No reason to be raising your voice at the lady,” he said, his tone low, but the quiet warning was unmistakable.

Caleb’s face hardened, a bitter sneer twisting his mouth. “I need to talk to you, asshole,” he said, voice taut with anger as he took a step closer to Joel.

“Caleb,” you began, your voice pleading, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were locked on Joel, the rage barely contained.

“Go ahead,” Joel said coolly, crossing his arms as he met Caleb’s glare head-on, unflinching.

Caleb’s shoulders tensed as he moved even closer, his voice low, but the intensity behind it was unmistakable. “You need to back off. I don’t know what the hell you two had going on, but she’s my fiancée. And I don’t want to see you anywhere near her again.”

Joel’s gaze narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Don’t think that’s your call to make.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Caleb shot back, his voice rising enough to draw more attention, the frustration and hurt evident in his tone.

“Caleb, please,” you whispered, voice cracking, tears welling in your eyes. But he didn’t look at you—his gaze was fixed on Joel, anger and frustration hardening his features. Joel’s eyes, however, were on you, searching, his silent question clear: Are you okay?

“Caleb,” Joel said, his tone even, unshaken, “this isn’t the time. It’s her birthday.”

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, his eyes flashing. “Now you’re acting like you know what’s best for her?” He shook his head, his voice a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “I can’t believe you. You waltz back into her life, and suddenly you’re the one who understands her?”

Joel held his ground, his expression steady. “I’m not pretending to know everything,” he replied quietly. “But I know that right now, she doesn’t need this.”

Caleb clenched his fists, glancing at you, then back at Joel, his voice rising. “And what she needs is you?”

“Caleb, stop,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, but the urgency in it held him in place.

“This isn’t the right time to talk about this,” Joel said, his voice low as he began to turn away, but not before casting a lingering glance your way—a quiet, unspoken reassurance.

But Caleb wasn’t done. “Hey! You don’t get to walk away from me, asshole.” He reached out, his hand gripping Joel’s shoulder, pulling him back with enough force to turn him around to face him directly.

Before you even registered what was happening, Caleb’s fist flew forward, connecting with Joel’s jaw with a force that sent a shockwave through the crowd around you. The impact echoed, silencing the murmur of voices as people turned to stare, wide-eyed.

Joel staggered back, momentarily dazed, his hand rising instinctively to his jaw. But then he steadied himself, his gaze hardening as he looked back at Caleb, a dark determination in his eyes.

“Caleb!” you gasped, stepping forward, but the tension between them was thick, raw, and unyielding, as though neither could hear you. Caleb’s chest heaved with anger, his fists still clenched, and Joel stood his ground, his posture unshaken, his gaze steady, daring Caleb to make the next move.

The silence around you was deafening, everyone waiting to see what would happen next, and you felt a mix of fear and desperation, knowing that whatever came next could change everything.

Joel turned to leave again, clearly trying to defuse the situation, but Caleb wasn’t finished. He grabbed Joel’s arm, yanking him back once more. This time, Joel had reached his limit. In one swift movement, he gripped Caleb��s shoulders firmly, pulling him close enough to speak low, his voice a quiet storm.

“Enough,” Joel hissed, his words sharp and precise, barely contained as he struggled to keep control. His grip on Caleb was firm, a grounding hold that left no room for further argument. There was a finality in his tone, a command that dared Caleb to defy him.

“You got a problem with me, you come to me,” Joel said, his voice low and steady. “Like a man. You don’t ruin her night.”

For a moment, Caleb faltered, his breath coming in heavy, uneven waves as he stared back at Joel, the weight of his words settling over him. The two of them stood in a silent standoff, the tension between them almost palpable, crackling with unspoken resentment and restraint. But Joel’s control—his refusal to let this spiral—spoke louder than any fight could have. His priority was clear, and it wasn’t himself.

As he slowly released his grip, he cast a look back in your direction, his gaze softening for just a heartbeat, a fleeting vulnerability crossing his expression.

You thought it was over.

You thought the tension had finally dissolved, that the confrontation would end with Joel’s final, steady words. But just as Joel began to turn away, you saw a flash of movement—Caleb, his face twisted with embarrassment and anger, lunging forward, fists clenched.

Before you could think, you moved instinctively, stepping between them. “Caleb, stop!” you cried, reaching out, but in the flurry, Caleb’s fist, meant for Joel, swung wildly in the chaos—and in an instant, pain exploded across your eye as his knuckles connected with you instead. You staggered back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, clutching your face as the room spun in shock.

Caleb’s fist connected with your eye in a swift, unintended blow, and a sharp, blinding pain surged through you, leaving your vision faltering as the shock of it set in. You stumbled back, your hand instinctively flying to your face as the world spun, your eye already throbbing, the pain deep and immediate.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Caleb stammered, his face pale as he stared at you, horror and guilt flashing across his features. He reached out, hands trembling as he tried to come closer. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to—”

But the words hung there, hollow and helpless, unable to undo the pain or the impact. His eyes were wide, pleading, as though he wished he could take back the last few seconds, erase what had just happened. The shock in his expression, the way he hesitated, spoke to the gravity of the mistake he’d made—a line crossed, one that couldn’t be undone.

Before he could get any closer, Tommy stepped between you, his voice low and firm. “Step back. Right now.”

Caleb’s hands froze mid-air, his face twisted in a mixture of panic and regret. “I didn’t know—I wasn’t aiming for her. It was an accident, I swear!”

“Now,” Tommy repeated, his tone brooking no argument, his steady gaze pinning Caleb in place. The room had fallen into a tense silence, all eyes on the unfolding scene, the weight of what had just happened settling over everyone.

Joel was by your side in an instant, his hand gentle yet firm as it cradled your face, his thumb brushing tenderly just below your eye, which was already starting to swell and bruise. His gaze was frantic, worry etched into every line of his face as he took in the injury, his jaw tightening, eyes flicking with barely restrained anger.

“Hey, darling,” he murmured, his voice soft, steady. “You’re alright. I’m here—I’m right here.”

But the pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed you, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I need to get out of here, Joel,” you managed, your voice breaking as tears slipped down your cheeks. “Please… I can’t be here.”

Without hesitation, Joel slipped his arm around you, his touch solid and reassuring as he led you away, his presence a shield against the stares and murmurs surrounding you. He held you close, his own voice low and steady as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Just breathe. We’re getting out of here, right now.”

Joel guided you home, the short walk feeling like miles with the throbbing pain in your eye. As soon as you reached the door, he had Ellie sprint to his place to grab some painkillers he kept stashed away for his back, the kind tucked into his drawer just for emergencies.

Now, he had you settled on your couch, his presence anchoring you as he sat as close as he could, his fingers brushing carefully beneath your swollen eye, his touch feather-light. His face was etched with worry, a raw, almost desperate guilt darkening his expression. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough with regret. He looked like he’d take the pain on himself if he could.

“It’s not your fault,” you managed, choking on the words as quiet sobs broke through, your breath catching with each one. “I don’t even know why I stepped forward—I just… I didn’t want him to hit you again.”

He stilled, his gaze softening as he reached up to gently wipe away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” he whispered, the endearment filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “I can’t stand seein’ you like this, hurtin’ like this.”

He looked around, his concern shifting to impatience. “Where the hell is Ellie?” he muttered, glancing toward the door as though he could summon her with sheer will, his urgency clear—he couldn’t bear to see you in pain one second longer than necessary.

And though the ache in your eye throbbed, his touch, his presence, and the warmth in his voice softened the edges, leaving you with the feeling that, as long as he was here, you’d be alright.

Just then, Ellie burst in, breathless and wide-eyed, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief as she took in the scene. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed, eyes darting between you and Joel. “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her off, his tone firm but gentle as he motioned to the bottle in her hand. “Give me those, and grab some water from the kitchen, would ya?”

Without hesitation, Ellie handed over the painkillers, her gaze lingering on you with concern before she hurried into the kitchen. Joel opened the bottle, easing you upright with one hand, his touch warm and steady.

“Here, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet tenderness as he held the glass to you and placed a pill in your hand. “Take this—it’ll help.”

You took the pill, letting his words and touch ground you as you sipped the water he offered. The throbbing pain dulled just slightly in the warmth of his care, and as you met his gaze, you saw something there—an unspoken promise, a reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Ellie dropped onto the other couch, her brows knit in worry as she took in your bruised face. “That’s a nasty black eye,” she muttered, her voice caught between worry and a strange sort of awe.

“Ellie,” Joel’s voice held a gentle but unmistakable warning. “Go on home. It’s past your bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “It’s only ten!” she protested, but the look he gave her softened her defiance. With a huff, she stood up, glancing back at you with genuine concern.

“Hey… I hope you feel better soon,” she said, her voice quieter, sincere. She hesitated, her gaze flicking to Joel before she added, “And, uh—Joel’ll take care of you. You’re in good hands.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, the warmth of her concern and Joel’s steady presence easing some of the ache. Ellie nodded, satisfied, and slipped out the door, leaving you alone with Joel in the soft quiet, the sense of safety he radiated settling around you like a blanket.

The pain had started to dull, though your vision remained blurred, Joel’s figure splitting slightly into a hazy double image as he leaned in close, his hand resting steady and grounding on your shoulder.

“You alright? Warm enough?” he asked, his voice gentle but thick with concern, his eyes scanning your face as if he could will the pain away.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine, Joel,” you managed, offering a faint, wavering smile. “Thank you for getting me out of there. I… I’ve never seen him like that—so angry.”

Joel’s expression shifted, his jaw setting as something dark and fierce flickered in his gaze. He shook his head, his mouth tightening, frustration etched into every line of his face. “He had no right,” he muttered, his voice low, barely restrained. “Of all damn nights—on your birthday, no less. That asshole…” His words trailed off, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, as though he was holding back an urge to storm out and finish what had been started.

“You know you deserve better than that, right?” Joel’s voice was soft but firm, his gaze steady as he looked at you, waiting for the words to sink in. “I would never… I can’t imagine ever doing that to you.”

There was an honesty in his tone, a quiet conviction that made your chest tighten. His hand lingered on your shoulder, warm and grounding, and the way he looked at you—as if you were someone precious, someone worth protecting—stirred something deep within you, a feeling you’d buried for too long.

For a moment, the pain in your eye, the embarrassment of the night, all of it faded under the weight of his words, his presence.

“I know you wouldn’t,” you murmured, your voice barely holding steady as you let out a shaky breath. Slowly, you lifted your hand, your fingers grazing the angle of his jaw where Caleb’s punch had left a faint bruise, half-hidden beneath the roughness of his beard. Your touch was soft, tentative, tracing the bruise with a gentleness that seemed to make him wince, though he didn’t pull away. His gaze stayed locked on yours, unwavering, intense, as though he was absorbing every part of this moment.

“Bet I look awful,” you tried to joke, a faint laugh escaping, but the self-consciousness gnawed at you, awareness flooding in as you thought of the swelling around your eye, the bruises marking your skin. Embarrassment washed over you, and you began to pull your hand back, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his steady gaze.

But Joel’s hand moved swiftly, catching yours, his fingers curling around yours, holding your hand against his cheek. “Don’t,” he whispered, his voice low and warm, a quiet command wrapped in tenderness.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a look so unguarded, so filled with admiration, it left you breathless. “You’re beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that. Even now… you’re still the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”

His words settled around you, filling the space between you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely holding steady as you looked up at him, feeling every part of you drawn to him, helpless to resist. “Kiss me.”

Something flickered in his eyes—a mixture of longing and relief, like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. In an instant, the space between you disappeared. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his breath warm against your lips, hovering for a heartbeat, letting every ounce of tension swell until it felt like you might break from it.

Then he kissed you, his lips claimed yours with a fervor that took your breath away, the kiss deep and consuming, as if he were pouring years of waiting, of unspoken feelings, into this single, electric moment.

His hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his other arm tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heartbeat, wild and fierce, mirroring your own, a rhythm that seemed to fill every inch of you.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving over yours with an intensity that left you dizzy, the world blurring until nothing else existed but the heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms, the way he held you as if he’d finally found what he’d been searching for.

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as he pulled you impossibly closer, the space between you vanishing entirely.

When he finally drew back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathless, he didn’t let go. His hand lingered, fingers grazing your jaw, his eyes searching yours, a quiet intensity in them that made your pulse race all over again.

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oceandolores · 3 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 3

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦"

summary: After the incident, where past traumas resurface and threaten to unravel your fragile sense of security, Joel steps in as a protector. His presence becomes a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 3

masterlist of the series!

Previous | chapter 2

Next | chapter 4

The night when Jamie took your virginity by force felt like the moment the light within you was extinguished. It was as if the divine spark that once illuminated your soul was snuffed out, leaving behind a darkness that clung to you like a second skin. The purity you had cherished as a good Christian girl was shattered, and in its place, you felt an overwhelming sense of dirtiness. It was as if you had been marked, branded with an invisible scarlet letter that only you could see, yet you believed everyone else could see it too.

The past two months had been a relentless descent into a personal hell. You had become a ghost of your former self, your once vibrant spirit now a flickering ember. Physically, you were a shadow, your body wasting away as if your soul’s torment had seeped into your flesh. The weight of your violation bore down on you, leaving you with no desire to eat, to engage, to exist. Every day was a struggle against the ever-present feeling of disgust, the conviction that you were tainted beyond redemption.

In the eyes of others, you felt exposed, as if the sin of that night was etched into your very being. It was as if the words “dirty slut” were emblazoned across your skin, a silent condemnation that followed you everywhere. No matter where you went, the eyes of judgment seemed to follow, their silent accusations piercing your already wounded soul.

At school, you had withdrawn into yourself, a stark contrast to the lively girl you once were. You spoke to no one, even when you went to church, you avoiding Ellie, Tommy, and Maria. After class, you would rush home, seeking refuge in the solitude that had become both your sanctuary and your prison. Only Joel knew the truth of what had happened that night, and he had been your anchor in the storm.

After that night, you stayed at Joel’s. He had been nothing but gentle, his touch a stark contrast to the violence you had endured. He cleaned you up, gave you a bath, and ensured your privacy by standing near the tub with the curtain drawn, only intervening if you needed something. The care he showed you was the kind of protection you had longed for all your life. His presence was a balm to your wounded spirit, his protectiveness a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you.

The morning after, you insisted on walking home, despite Joel’s offer to drive you. Your house was nearby, but in your daze, you had forgotten to inform your parents where you had been. As you walked through the front door, your father’s fury was immediate. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice a thunderous roar. "You didn’t tell us you were staying out. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"I stayed at Ellie’s," you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. "If you don’t believe me, you can call Joel."

Without hesitation, your father dialed Joel’s number. You stood there, heart pounding, as Joel answered. "Yes, she stayed with Ellie here last night," Joel confirmed, his voice steady. He kept his promise not to reveal the incident with Jamie, but your father’s anger was far from assuaged.

"Even so," your father raged, "you didn’t inform us. What’s next? You’ll become a whore, wandering the streets? Is that what you want?" His words cut deep, each one a dagger plunging into your already shattered heart. He berated you about the virtues of Christianity, reminding you of the sanctity of purity and obedience.

"You need to understand the importance of your faith," he lectured, his voice a relentless drone. "You must remain pure and obedient, not fall into sin like this."

You stood there, numb, the weight of his words adding to the already unbearable burden on your shoulders. The guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm you. Every word felt like another chain, binding you in your own personal hell.

"Take off your shirt and face the wall," your father ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

With trembling hands, you did as he said, the shirt you borrowed from Ellie slipping to the floor. You turned to the wall, feeling the roughness of the paint against your skin, a stark contrast to the softness you craved. Your father took his belt, the leather a familiar implement of punishment, and began to strike.

Each lash was a searing reminder of your perceived sins, each word of his condemnation a nail in the coffin of your spirit. "This is for your disobedience," he spat, the belt cracking against your skin. "This is for the whore you’re becoming."

You bit back your cries, the tears streaming down your face silently. You were too exhausted to scream, too broken to protest. The pain was overwhelming, but it felt deserved. In your mind, this was God’s punishment for your unholiness, a penance for the dirtiness you couldn’t wash away.

Your mother watched from the doorway, her eyes filled with helplessness. She didn’t intervene, just as she never had. Instead, she retreated to the living room, turning up the volume on the gospel music to drown out the sound of your father’s anger and your silent suffering.

With each strike, you closed your eyes, the pain coursing through you like fire. You envisioned yourself as a fallen angel, wings torn and bloodied, cast out from the grace you once knew. The purity you had cherished was gone, replaced by a deep, unending shame.

When it was over, you collapsed to the floor, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pain. You felt like a martyr, bearing the weight of your father’s righteousness, the gospel music a cruel hymn to your suffering. You were unworthy, unholy, and the punishment was your penance.

As you lay there, tears mingling with the cold floor, you prayed. Not for forgiveness, but for strength. "God, if You’re listening, help me endure this. Help me find a way to survive." Your prayer was a whisper in the storm, a desperate plea from a soul that had known too much darkness.

In that moment, you understood the depth of your isolation. Your purity was gone, your light extinguished, but a spark of defiance remained. You had survived this night, just as you had survived Jamie. And somehow, you would find a way to keep surviving, to reclaim the light that had been stolen from you.

***

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shadows. You moved through the house like a ghost, your presence barely acknowledged by your parents. Your father’s words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of your perceived worthlessness. Every glance in the mirror revealed the invisible brand of shame you felt etched into your skin. You had become a stranger to yourself, lost in a labyrinth of guilt and self-loathing.

At school, you withdrew further into yourself, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Ellie noticed your absence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. The weight of your secret was too heavy to share, the fear of judgment too great. You walked the halls with your head down, each step a reminder of the burden you carried.

A month had gone by, and now it was Sunday. The weight of another church service loomed over you. You had managed to somewhat regain a semblance of normalcy, but the shadows of that night continued to haunt you. Despite the slight improvement, you had been avoiding everyone, including Joel. His calls went unanswered, and you took alternate routes to avoid passing his house. The shame you felt was overwhelming. You had developed feelings for Joel, but you believed he would never want you now that you felt so dirty.

Joel, on the other hand, was deeply worried about you. His concern grew with each passing day. He would occasionally ask Tommy if he had seen you at church, but Tommy’s answers never provided the comfort Joel sought.

The night before Sunday, Joel decided to visit Tommy and Maria with Ellie, hoping to have a casual movie night. He needed an excuse to ask about you without raising suspicions.

As they settled in the living room, Tommy was setting up the movie. Joel took a seat next to him, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. Ellie and Maria were chatting in the kitchen, preparing snacks.

"So, how’ve things been?" Joel asked, trying to keep his tone light. "Busy with the kid, I bet."

Tommy chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, you know how it is. Little one keeps us on our toes. What about you? How's work been?"

"Same old, same old," Joel replied, leaning back in his chair. "Ellie's doing good in school, keeping me busy with all her activities."

Tommy smiled. "That’s good to hear. She’s a great kid."

Joel nodded, then took a deep breath, trying to steer the conversation. "Yeah, speaking of kids... you seen Gibson girl around lately? Maybe at church? Haven't seen her passing by my home."

Tommy frowned, scratching his head. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven't seen her at church either. And she's usually always around."

Joel tried to keep his voice casual, not wanting to raise suspicion. "Right," Joel answered, but his thoughts were far from the conversation at hand. He couldn't shake the image of you from his mind—the pain in your eyes, the way you had avoided him, the way your voice trembled when you last spoke. Every unanswered call, every sight of your empty path gnawed at him, filling him with a deep, gnawing worry.

He replayed that night over and over, the way you had clung to him, the way he had tried to provide comfort without crossing any lines. He had never felt so helpless, so desperate to protect someone, yet so unsure of how to do it. His heart ached with the thought of you suffering alone, believing you were dirty or unworthy.

"Joel?" Tommy's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Joel blinked, realizing he had completely zoned out.

"Huh? What?" Joel said, shaking his head to clear the fog of worry. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Tommy gave him a curious look, tilting his head slightly. "I was asking if you wanted more popcorn, but you seemed a million miles away. Everything alright?"

Joel forced a smile, trying to mask the anxiety that churned within him. "Yeah, sorry just got a lot on my mind. But yeah, more popcorn sounds good."

Tommy didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let it go, standing up to refill the bowl. Joel watched him go, taking the moment to gather himself. He needed to find a way to reach you, to make sure you were alright without raising too much suspicion. The worry gnawed at him, a constant presence in the back of his mind.

As the movie continued, Joel found it hard to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, hoping that you were finding some measure of peace, even as he felt his own slipping further away.

As the sun rose on Sunday, you prepared yourself with a painstaking precision. The morning light seemed to cast an unforgiving glow on your efforts, illuminating every detail of your attire and makeup. You adorned yourself in a soft yellow dress, a stark contrast to the stained white dress you had left behind—a symbol of a past tainted by invisible scars. Your hair was styled meticulously, and a light touch of makeup tried to mask the weariness in your eyes. It was as if you were trying to paint over the shadows that clung to you, hoping that the brightness of the yellow might somehow wash away the stains of your recent past.

Your father was adamant about you joining the service, and the pressure of his expectations weighed heavily on you. The town would be present, as it always was for these occasions, their curious eyes a stark reminder of your recent absence. You could feel their gazes, and you braced yourself for the inevitable scrutiny. The anticipation of stepping into the public eye once more was almost suffocating.

When you arrived at the church, you noticed Tommy and Maria’s car parked nearby, a sight that barely registered in your anxious state. But as you turned, your heart seemed to freeze. There, behind Tommy’s car, was a familiar truck—a vehicle you hadn’t expected to see in such a context. It was Joel’s truck.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Joel had decided to return to church after years of absence. The scene before you was a tableau of mixed emotions: the congregation’s whispers, the look of surprise on Tommy’s face, and your father’s exuberant welcome of Joel. The church buzzed with curiosity, and every eye seemed to turn toward Joel and the unexpected presence he brought with him. Your father’s enthusiasm was palpable as he greeted Joel, his gestures warm and welcoming. Tommy smiled, clearly pleased to see his brother, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming urge to disappear. The thought of facing Joel was almost too much to bear. The last time you had seen him, everything had been different. The thought of him seeing you in your current state, a mix of shame and unresolved feelings, was unbearable. You moved swiftly to avoid his gaze, slipping through the crowd like a wisp of smoke.

Joel's presence was a silent declaration of concern and hope. His return to the church was more than a gesture; it was an effort to reconnect, to understand why you had vanished so abruptly from his life. He couldn’t risk coming to your house and questioning your parents directly, as that would have been too conspicuous. Instead, he chose this public setting, hoping it might offer a chance to see you, to gauge your well-being without drawing undue attention.

Tommy and Ellie had been startled by Joel’s decision to attend church after all these years. To them, it was an unspoken mystery, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit with the past patterns they knew. Tommy’s curiosity was evident, though he kept his questions at bay, respecting Joel’s unspoken wish for discretion.

As the service began, the room was filled with the familiar hymns and prayers. The sounds of the congregation’s voices blended into a backdrop of solemnity and devotion. You sat through the service, your mind a turbulent sea of emotions, while Joel’s presence at the back of the church was a constant, heavy reminder of your own turmoil.

Joel, despite his own feelings of discomfort in this sacred space, kept his gaze low, trying to remain unobtrusive. His concern for you overshadowed the solemnity of the service, his heart aching with the desire to reach out, to offer solace, but restrained by the fear of overstepping. The echoes of the sermon, the rustle of prayer books, and the collective murmur of the congregation seemed distant, as if you were trapped in a bubble of your own distress.

After the Sunday service, the church transformed into a space of community and fellowship. Tables were set up with an array of homemade dishes, and the congregation gathered for a communal meal. The aroma of comfort food filled the air, mingling with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of plates. It was a time for members of the congregation to connect, share news, and strengthen their bonds.

You moved through the gathering with practiced grace, helping your mother and father arrange the food and interact with the attendees. Your smile was a well-practiced mask, concealing the turmoil that churned beneath. You greeted old friends and acquaintances, your responses polite but distant. The effort to maintain this façade was exhausting, but you felt it was necessary to avoid further scrutiny.

As you made your way to the storage room in the church, a quiet refuge away from the bustling hall, you found yourself alone. The clamor of the gathering seemed a world away, and the space was filled with the scent of dust and old paper. You were organizing a stack of donation boxes when you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

Turning around, you saw Joel standing in the doorway. His presence was like a sudden storm cloud on an otherwise clear day—unexpected and overwhelming. He looked at you with a mixture of concern and apprehension, his rugged face lined with worry. The weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and it seemed as though he was struggling to find the right words.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly. He took a hesitant step forward, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The usual gruffness in his tone was softened by the underlying worry.

You shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by his appearance. “Joel,” you managed to reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions welling up inside you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Joel looked around the small room, as if searching for the right way to start the conversation. “Yeah, well,” he began, his gaze falling back on you. “I’ve been—” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been worried about you. Haven’t seen you around much. I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of his genuine concern. Joel was a man of action rather than words, and his struggle to articulate his feelings only highlighted how much he cared. He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours for a sign of how you were really doing.

“Joel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, “did you come to church just for this? I’m fine. Really.”

Joel’s expression softened, but his concern remained palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to reach you, and you’ve been avoidin’ me. It’s not like you to just disappear. I need to know—are you really okay?” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his worry. You looked away, struggling to find the right response. “I’ve just been dealing with things,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I needed some time.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his concern deepening. " You’ve been missin’ from school, from church, from everythin’. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been keepin’ your distance."

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, the truth of your situation pressing heavily on your heart. “I'm fine, Joel” you said, struggling to keep your composure.

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a mixture of frustration and concern etched into his features. “Why’ve you been avoidin’ me?” he asked, his voice a blend of urgency and care. “You can’t keep runnin’ away from this. You keep pushin’ me away.”

You felt a sharp pang of guilt at his words, your heart twisting in your chest. The shame and the weight of your feelings made it difficult to meet his eyes. “I just—” you began, your voice faltering. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to see how... broken I am.”

Joel’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and tenderness. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not broken. You’re still you. You don’t have nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

His words were a balm to your wounded spirit, yet the weight of your shame still felt suffocating. You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “But I’ve changed,” you said, your voice cracking. “I feel like I’m not who I was before. I feel... dirty. Like I’m not even me anymore.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he noticed the tremble in your voice, the tears that began to fall. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold grip of your shame.

As he held you, Joel let his guard down, something he rarely allowed himself to do. The strength in his arms was a shield against the world, a sanctuary where you could momentarily escape the torment you had been living through. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, provided a grounding comfort. This was more than a physical embrace; it was a silent promise of protection, akin to the way he had once shielded Ellie and Sarah.

“It’s alright,” Joel murmured into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not your fault, it's not your fault. Everything's gonna be alright, babygirl."

His words were like a balm to the raw wounds of your spirit, yet the weight of your emotions still felt heavy. You could sense the sincerity in his voice, a quiet strength that contrasted sharply with the tumult of your inner world. In his embrace, you could almost imagine the weight of your shame lifting, if only for a moment.

After a while, you slowly pulled away from Joel’s comforting hold, grateful for his presence. “Thank you, Joel,” you said softly, wiping away the remnants of your tears. Joel, ever the pragmatist, decided to lighten the mood with one of his characteristic jokes.

“You know,” he said with a crooked smile, “cryin’ like that might just mess up your makeup. And we wouldn’t want you lookin’ like a raccoon now, would we?”

His playful jest brought a genuine smile to your face, a rare and fleeting moment of joy. Joel’s eyes softened as he saw you smile, his own expression a mix of relief and affection. “That’s right, like that, doll,” he said, his voice warm.

He gently cupped your face, his rough fingers brushing away the last traces of tears. “You’re stronger than you think. Just gotta give yourself some credit. You ain’t broken, not by a long shot.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approached, and your mother appeared at the doorway of the storage room. Her cheerful voice cut through the tension. “Sweetheart, what’s taking so long? Did you find everything?”

You and Joel quickly pulled away from each other, making a show of straightening up and wiping your faces. “Umm, yes mother, I-I found it,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Your mother’s eyes fell on Joel, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Joel? What are you doing here?”

Joel cleared his throat, trying to mask the unease in his voice. “Hey, Evelyn, I, uh, just looking around the church again. Almost forgot how it looks from the inside, you know? It’s been a while.”

Your mother, ever the bubbly personality, clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s wonderful! We’re so glad to see you back. You know, you should come more often. It’s always nice to have you around. It’s been such a long time!”

Joel nodded, his eyes flicking back to you with a hint of concern. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Just felt like catching up with old times.”

Your mother beamed at Joel, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Well, that’s fantastic. You must join us for some of the refreshments afterward. It’s a potluck today, and there’s plenty of food. Everyone’s been asking about you.”

Joel gave a polite smile, trying to hide his discomfort. “Sure thing. I’ll stick around for a bit.”

As your mother continued to chat with Joel, her cheerful demeanor filling the room with a lightness that contrasted sharply with the earlier tension, you took the opportunity to discreetly collect yourself. You adjusted your dress and smoothed out your makeup, trying to regain your composure.

Joel, noticing the change in your demeanor, shot you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to your mother.

Your mother excuse herself to go out but lookback to you, “Oh, sweetheart, I almost forgot. We need help with the setup for the refreshments,”

You quickly nodded. “Yes, I’ll take care of it, Mama." and she went to outside.

You and Joel moved outside too, where the atmosphere of the church’s potluck was in full swing. The laughter and chatter of the congregation filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked goods and savory dishes. Joel, despite his unease, tried to adapt to the social scene, engaging with the women who flocked to him. He was a striking figure, with his salt-and-pepper beard and intense brown eyes that had a rugged charm to them. The women, clearly drawn to his distinguished appearance and the success he embodied, tried to catch his attention, though Joel’s discomfort was palpable. He offered polite smiles and brief responses, all the while his gaze frequently wandered back to you.

You moved among the congregation, offering refreshments and engaging in small talk, your presence like a breath of fresh air amidst the busier, more boisterous interactions. To Joel, you appeared as a serene vision—an innocent beauty despite everything. There was something ethereal about you, a delicate grace that made you stand out among the crowd. Your yellow dress seemed to shimmer with a soft glow, as if capturing the very essence of spring's first light.

Joel’s eyes lingered on you, the sight of your genuine smile and the way you interacted with others tugging at something deep within him. You were like a lone daisy in a field of wildflowers, untouched by the wilting sun. His admiration for you was undeniable, though it was mingled with concern and protectiveness.

Suddenly, as you were handing out refreshments, he noticed a boy approaching you. He moved with a kind of familiar swagger, and Joel’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized him—Jamie Lee. The sight of Jamie sent a shiver down Joel’s spine, and a protective instinct surged through him. He watched, tense and alert, as Jamie neared you.

Jamie’s presence was like a shadow falling over your radiant light. Joel’s gaze hardened, his focus narrowing. He could see the unease in your posture, the way you instinctively took a step back. The fear in your eyes was palpable, and it made Joel’s fists clench at his sides.

Joel, unable to stand idly by, started making his way towards you. His movements were deliberate and calculated, every step driven by a fierce determination to protect you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before turning back to Jamie. The confrontation had left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you approached him with a cold, composed demeanor.

Jamie, noticing your icy response, shifted uncomfortably. “Hey,” he started, his voice trying to sound casual but laced with an apologetic tone. “I didn’t mean to, you know, I was just—”

"Get off from my face," you said quietly doesn't want to make a scene.

amie’s face twisted into a desperate mask of fear as he took another step closer. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “Just... just listen to me. I didn’t mean to—”

“Get off from my face,” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper but sharp as a blade. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to push him away, but Jamie persisted, his fear morphing into a desperate, unsettling urgency. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Jamie’s panic grew. He began to reach out, trying to grab your arm. “You don’t understand. I need you to—”

Before he could touch you, Joel’s imposing figure appeared, his presence radiating a quiet, intimidating authority. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, the protective instincts within him coming to the forefront. “What’s goin’ on here?” Joel’s voice was steady, yet carried a dangerous edge that made Jamie freeze.

Jamie’s eyes widened in recognition. “Mr. Miller!” he stammered, backing away slightly. “I—uh—”

Joel’s gaze shifted to you, noticing the fear and distress on your face. He took a step closer to you, his body language radiating both calm and control. “Gibson, you alright?” he asked softly, his voice a reassuring balm amidst the tension.

You nodded, though your face was pale and your eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “Yes, I’m fine. Just... I need to go," You trying to gave Joel a smile and then walk away continue what you were doing.

Joel watched you walk away, his protective instincts still simmering beneath the surface. Once you were out of sight, Joel turned his full attention back to Jamie, his expression hardening.

“Hey, Jamie,” Joel said, his voice low and controlled. “How’s your old man? Still keepin’ busy with the firm?”

Jamie seemed to relax slightly, though his eyes still flicked nervously between Joel and the direction you had gone. “Uh, yeah, he’s doing alright,” Jamie replied, trying to sound casual. “Still busy as ever. You know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze was unwavering, a subtle intensity in his eyes that Jamie seemed to sense but couldn’t quite place. “And what about you? What’ve you been up to lately?”

Jamie fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, just... you know, school and stuff. Nothing too exciting.”

Joel nodded slowly, maintaining a calm exterior while his mind worked through his options. “Right, right. Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you around. Thought I’d come back to the old church, see how things are goin’.”

Jamie’s eyes darted nervously. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” he said, his voice faltering. “So, uh, what brings you back? I thought you hadn’t been around for years.”

Joel’s smile was tight, the warmth of it not quite reaching his eyes. “Just felt like it was time to reconnect. Thought I’d check in on the old place, you know?"

Jamie seemed to relax a bit more, although his discomfort lingered. “Yeah, well, it’s good to see you,” he said awkwardly. “Things are... different, but you know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a quiet storm of thoughts behind his calm facade. “Yeah, I know how it is,” he said, his tone measured. “Well, Jamie, I’m glad we had a chance to catch up. I'll see you around,"

Jamie’s face was a mask of confusion and relief as he nodded quickly. “Yeah, see you around, Mr. Miller.”

As Jamie walked away, Joel’s eyes followed him, a thoughtful frown settling on his face. He knew there was more beneath the surface, and he was determined to uncover it, but for now, he kept his thoughts to himself.

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze returning to where you had disappeared. He knew that protecting you and making sure you felt safe was his priority now. The façade of casual conversation was just that—a façade.

Joel watched you slip away from the crowd, a cloud of worry settling over him. His thoughts were a maelstrom of concern and determination, but before he could follow, he was waylaid by several familiar faces. They were eager to catch up, their questions and greetings a barrier he couldn’t easily cross. He tried to be polite, nodding and offering half-hearted responses, all the while his mind remained focused on you.

Meanwhile, you navigated the church grounds with a heavy heart, your steps driven by a desperate need for solitude. You approached your father with a feigned urgency. “Papa, I need to leave early. I have a test tomorrow and I need a book from the library,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but with a determined edge.

Your father, engrossed in the after-church festivities, waved you off with little more than a distracted nod. “Alright, just be back before dark,” he called after you, his attention already shifting back to the conversation he was engaged in.

With a sigh of relief, you made your way to the edge of the church grounds, your thoughts a tangled mess of despair and shame. The path to the lake felt like a journey through an emotional wilderness. Each step seemed to echo the emptiness inside you, the trees and underbrush closing in like the walls of your own confinement.

As you walked, the weight of your thoughts felt like an oppressive fog, obscuring any sense of clarity or peace. The forest surrounding the path seemed to mirror your inner turmoil—dark, tangled, and impenetrable. The chirping of distant birds and the rustling leaves became a muted symphony to your solitary reflection, their sounds like distant whispers of a world you felt disconnected from.

Reaching the lake, you sank down onto the grassy bank, the weight of the past weeks pressing heavily on your shoulders. The water’s surface was a mirror of your own fractured soul—rippled and distorted, reflecting the tangled mess of your emotions. You fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a flask from beneath your jacket, your hands shaking slightly. The cigarettes were a crutch, a way to cope with the stress that had become almost unbearable.

Lighting a cigarette, you took a long drag, the smoke curling up into the air like a wisp of your own troubles being released. You retrieved the flask, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of the whiskey you had managed to sneak away. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, a fleeting comfort in the midst of your turmoil. It was a bitter solace, a way to dull the sharp edges of your pain, but it never truly erased the deep ache within.

The lake, now dimming in the encroaching twilight, seemed to embrace your solitude. Its surface reflected the last rays of sunlight, shimmering like scattered fragments of hope amidst the darkness. You leaned back, the grass beneath you soft and cool, the calmness of the lake providing a deceptive sense of tranquility.

As you looked out over the water, your thoughts drifted like the gentle ripples across the lake’s surface. The recent events played out in your mind like a series of shadowy figures, each one a reminder of how your life had spiraled into this moment of isolation and despair. You clung to the fleeting moments of numbness provided by the whiskey and smoke, trying to drown out the crushing weight of your reality.

Joel, meanwhile, managed to extricate himself from the crowd of well-wishers. His concern for you was a constant pull, a magnetic force guiding him towards you. As he scanned the area around the church, his eyes caught sight of your disappearing figure, and he felt a renewed urgency to follow.

The lake stretched out before you, its surface a placid mirror reflecting the fading light of day. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds seemed like distant echoes compared to the chaos in your mind. You lay on the grass, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath you, and the weight of Jamie Lee’s presence still heavy on your soul. Each ripple in the lake's surface seemed to mimic the turbulent waves of your thoughts—crashing, receding, only to rise again with relentless force.

You had managed to slip away from the crowd, the world around you feeling far removed from the comforting isolation you sought. As you stared out over the lake, the thoughts of Jamie’s unwelcome reappearance, the haunting memories, and the crushing fear of being trapped in this endless cycle of pain and shame twisted through your mind. You were desperate for a way out, a new beginning, a place where you could shed the weight of your past and start anew. But for now, all you could do was lie there, the whispers of the forest around you a faint consolation against the storm within.

Then, breaking through the oppressive silence, a voice reached you. "Thought I found you here."

The sound of Joel’s voice was a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You turned slowly, your heart pounding as you saw him emerging from the trees. His presence was a tether to reality, grounding you amidst the chaos. His gaze was soft but intense, filled with a concern that seemed to pierce through the veil of your anguish.

Joel walked over to you with deliberate steps, his expression a mix of determination and empathy. He settled beside you on the grass, his body language a silent promise of protection and understanding. The familiarity of his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the stark contrast between your own inner darkness and his unwavering support.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with genuine worry.

You didn’t immediately respond, the weight of your emotions rendering you almost speechless. The silence stretched between you, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between your fractured state and his steady presence. Joel’s eyes, dark and intense, held yours with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read the secrets written in your sorrow.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and I keep trying to run away from it. But every time I think I’m getting away, it all just catches up with me.”

Joel’s expression was a mix of deep concern and frustration as he watched you struggle to keep your composure. “I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of earnest reassurance.

As Joel reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flinched as though struck, your body reacting involuntarily to the touch. Joel pulled his hand back, a flash of confusion crossing his face. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asked, his tone gentler now. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly shook your head, trying to mask the truth. “It’s nothing, Joel. I’m fine,” you insisted, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your distress.

Joel’s eyes narrowed with concern. It was clear to him that there was more to your reaction than you were letting on. “You’re not fine,” he said firmly. “You're hidin' something, let me see your back,"

“I’m fine, Joel,” you insisted, trying to back away from him. Your voice was steadier now, but your heart was racing.

Joel’s face was set in grim determination. “No, you’re not. If you don’t show me, I’m gonna keep pushin’. I can see it in your eyes—you’re in pain, and I need to know why.”

When you continued to resist, Joel’s frustration reached its peak. “You gotta trust me,” he said, his voice harsh but filled with a desperate edge.

Unable to bear his insistence any longer, you shouted, “Joel, stop! I said I’m fine!” The raw pain and fear in your voice were undeniable, and Joel’s eyes softened for a moment, but his resolve remained unshaken.

Joel’s expression hardened. “I’m not lettin’ this go,” he said firmly. He gently but firmly reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it down further to expose the scars on your back. His movements were deliberate and careful, but his eyes were filled with a cold intensity that brooked no argument.

As he revealed the cruel marks etched into your skin, his anger became more apparent. His gaze swept over the scars—long, angry lines, some still raw and others faded but no less painful. Each mark told a story of suffering, and Joel’s jaw clenched in response.

Joel’s eyes darkened, his voice strained with barely controlled rage. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone growing colder with each word. “Who did this to you?"

"It's... It's my father," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. The confession felt like a stone lodged in your throat, its weight choking you.

Joel closed his eyes momentarily, fighting to contain the storm of anger threatening to erupt. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw working as he muttered curses under his breath. The fury simmering just below the surface was palpable.

“How long has this been goin’ on?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. “How long have you been dealin’ with this?”

“Since forever,” you said quietly, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your admission.

"Does your mother know?" Joel asked, you nodded.

“My mother knows, but she’s too scared to do anything. It’s... ironic, really. Just a few months ago, he was giving advice to Tommy about parenting, acting like some holy figure, but he's nothing but a hypocrite.” You try to lighten up.

Joel’s face contorted with a mix of disbelief and disgust. He stood abruptly, his movements sharp and decisive.

You scrambled to your feet, desperation gripping you. “Joel, where are you going?! please,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t do anything. Please, just let it be. This is my fault. I made him angry. I deserve this. Please, don’t make it worse. I can’t handle more trouble.”

Joel’s gaze was intense, his anger still visible but mixed with concern. “Are you fucking crazy?!” he shouted, his voice echoing across the still lake. “This ain’t your fault!” His outburst was raw, his frustration spilling over.

You flinched, your body instinctively drawing back from the intensity of his anger. The sudden surge of emotion was overwhelming, and you could feel the fear rise in your chest, a cold shiver racing down your spine.

Joel’s expression softened as he saw your reaction, his own anger faltering in the face of your fear. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough but gentler now. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just... seeing what he’s done to you...”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I know, I know, Joel,” you whispered. “I just don’t know how to handle this. I’m scared, and I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

Joel’s eyes, usually so guarded, now reflected a rare vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared,” he said, his voice softer, like a steady hand in the darkness. “I’m here for you."

The night air felt colder, but Joel’s presence was a warm, unspoken promise. His rough exterior hid a well of compassion, and though he struggled to find the right words, his actions spoke volumes. He gently pressed his forehead to yours, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I’ll keep you safe,” he vowed, his voice a low murmur. “I promise,"

The contact of his forehead against yours was a silent, grounding connection. It was a gesture filled with the weight of his resolve and the depth of his commitment. The orange sky seemed to hold its breath, the world narrowing down to the two of you in that fragile moment of solace.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with confusion and vulnerability. “Why are you helping me like this?”

Joel pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching for the right words. He honestly didn’t know, not really, why he felt this way. Why the protective instinct was so strong, why his heart ached with a depth he hadn’t felt before. This wasn’t like his feelings for Ellie or Sarah; it was different, an enigma wrapped in the folds of his hardened exterior. He was trying to piece it together, to make sense of the emotions that seemed to defy all his usual defenses.

Inside your head, the sensation was equally foreign but profoundly powerful. It was as if, for the first time, you were standing on the edge of a cliff, gazing at an ocean of comfort and care you had only ever dreamed of. The feelings you had longed for, the protection and the tenderness, were now here, enveloping you like a warm, protective cocoon. The stark contrast between this new sense of safety and the pain you had endured made the emotions even more intense.

Joel’s presence was like a lighthouse in a storm, a beacon that cut through the darkness of your fears and insecurities. The connection between you was electric, a thread that wove itself into the very fabric of your being. It was as if every touch, every glance, was an echo of a deep-seated need for solace and understanding. In his gaze, you found not just protection but a promise of something more, something you had never allowed yourself to fully believe in.

As the sky deepened around you, the intimacy of the moment became undeniable. You wanted to close the distance, to feel the warmth of his lips against yours, to make this bond even more tangible. But there was a hesitation—a barrier of years and experiences, a chasm you weren’t sure you could or should cross. Joel was older, a figure who had always seemed out of reach, yet now he was the focal point of a desire that was both thrilling and terrifying.

In your mind, the longing was like a fragile flower blossoming in the dark—a tender, delicate thing that had been waiting for the right moment to bloom. You felt a pull toward him that went beyond mere comfort; it was a magnetic force that drew you closer, promising a kind of connection you hadn’t thought possible.

You wanted to kiss him, to bridge the gap between what was and what could be, but the uncertainty lingered. Would he reciprocate, or would the age difference and the complexities of your feelings stand in the way? The desire was there, shimmering like moonlight on still water, but you were unsure if this was a path you should walk or a dream too fragile to grasp.

Joel's presence was an anchor, grounding you in a moment of clarity and vulnerability. The depth of what you felt for him was new and frightening, like navigating a starless sea in search of a shore you hoped existed. In the silence that followed, you could almost hear the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, a testament to the complex dance of emotion and need that neither of you could fully understand but both could feel.

Driven by the raw need to bridge the chasm between what was and what could be, you made a sudden, bold decision. You leaned in, closing the distance between you with a desperate and trembling kiss.

The moment your lips met his, Joel’s eyes widened in shock. He had not expected this, and for a heartbeat, he was paralyzed, caught between instinct and confusion. It felt like an electric jolt had surged through him, awakening something deep and primal. His heart raced, and his breath hitched as he processed the reality of your kiss.

But as the shock wore off, something else stirred within him—a burgeoning need that mirrored your own. The kiss, so raw and honest, ignited a flame that Joel had long kept buried under layers of grief and stoicism. He felt the world narrow to just the two of you, a universe where the complexities of age and propriety faded into insignificance.

Without fully realizing it, Joel responded with a fervor that surprised even him. His hands cupped your face gently but firmly, drawing you closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate, a dance of newfound desire and connection. It was as if each touch, each movement, was a revelation, a discovery of a shared longing that neither of you had fully acknowledged until this very moment.

Joel's kiss was eager, almost desperate. The way he pulled you closer, the intensity of his touch—it was as if he was trying to anchor himself to this fragile but profound connection. His initial shock gave way to an overwhelming need to reciprocate, to explore the emotions that had been unearthed by your bold move.

For both of you, this kiss was a turning point, a leap into a new realm of intimacy and understanding. It was more than just physical; it was an acknowledgment of the depth of feeling that had been building between you. The night around you seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for this moment to solidify into something undeniably real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty. Joel’s gaze was softer now, his eyes reflecting a blend of awe and desire. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender.

“Doll,” Joel said, his voice a rough whisper as he pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry, Joel.” The realization of what had just happened washed over you like a cold wave, leaving you feeling vulnerable and uncertain.

Joel shook his head gently, his gaze steady and reassuring. “No, it’s okay,” he said, his tone firm yet tender. “It’s okay. you're alright, you'll be fine, I promise."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. The sky was growing darker, the first hints of night casting long shadows across the lake. You knew you needed to head back before your father’s anger took a new form, a punishment you feared more than the quiet storm that had just passed between you and Joel.

Joel’s hand lingered on your shoulder, his grip warm and steady. “Do you want a ride back?” he asked, his concern evident.

“No, it’s alright,” you replied, shaking your head with a small, weary smile. “Just… go back to the church. Say goodbye to everyone, Joel.”

Joel hesitated, his expression a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Alright,” he said, but before turning to go, you couldn’t help but add a touch of humor to lighten the mood.

“Hey, are you gonna become a regular at the church again?” you said, forcing a grin. “You’ve been MIA for years, and now you show up just to connect with me? What’s next, a testimonial about divine intervention?”

Joel chuckled, the sound a rare and genuine escape from the weight of the moment. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he replied with a wry smile. “But maybe I’ll drop by once in a while, if only to make sure you’re still alright.”

You both shared a brief, understanding smile. It was a fleeting but comforting connection amidst the chaos of emotions and revelations.

Before parting ways, Joel gave you a warm hug, his embrace firm yet tender. He pulled back slightly and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, a gesture that carried more warmth and affection than words could convey. It was a promise, a silent vow of protection and care, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of the depths of his own feelings.

“Stay safe,” Joel said, his voice gentle but earnest. “I’ll see you around.”

As Joel walked away, his figure blending into the shadows, you turned and began your journey back home. The cool night air brushed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that Joel had left behind. The path ahead was dimly lit by the moonlight, each step resonating with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

In your mind, the night’s events replayed like a vivid dream. The touch of Joel’s hand, the tenderness of his kiss, and the tangled emotions you felt were all swirling together, creating a new and unfamiliar reality. You felt like you had crossed a threshold, where the lines between safety and danger, affection and fear, had become blurred.

The lake, once a silent witness to your sorrow, now seemed like a distant memory. It was as if you had left it behind, stepping into a new world where the echoes of the night and the promise of something different lingered like a soft whisper.

As you entered your home, the weight of the night’s revelations settled heavily on your shoulders. Each step felt like a delicate balance between the pain you had known and the uncertain hope that now lay ahead. Today had ended with its own kind of twilight, a space between the darkness of the past and the uncertain dawn of the future.

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morbidology · 5 months ago

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This photograph shows Jason Vukovich, the ‘Alaskan Avenger’, smiling at his brother after being sentenced to 28 years in prison. Growing up, Jason and his brother, Joel, had been subjected to abuse at the hands of their stepfather, Larry Lee Fulton.

In June 2016, Vukovich decided to target individuals listed on the Alaskan sex offender registry. Armed with a hammer and a notebook containing the names and addresses of his targets, he located and attacked three men: Charles Albee, Andres Barbosa, and Wesley Demarest.

These men had been convicted of sex crimes, and Vukovich believed that his actions were a form of justice for their victims. All three of the men survived. Jason later said that when he attacked the men, he was acting on behalf of those who could not defend themselves, including his younger self.

#Jason Vukovich #True Crime #vigilante

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braxiatel · 5 months ago

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Just once I would love to see someone writing the dadsuma trope bring up the fact that he and Ren were convicted of crimes against the server in season 4

I know that most of the time he gets used as the father figure on the server in fanon because the artist needs someone to be a voice of reason, and fair game, but I just think he deserves to have a “I’m not going back to jail!” Moment that will baffle and confuse Grian or Joel or Gem or whatever (slightly) younger hermit he is being a father figure to in that instance

#hermitcraft #Xisuma #XisumaVoid #mcyt #hermitblr #obligatory this is about the character and not the content creator tag #I can’t speak for cc!Xisuma’s criminal record #the void collection #if I could control what posts of mine take off I would make this one do it

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punkshort · 11 months ago

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look what we've become - ch.5

Chapter Summary: On the road to take Ellie back to her family, you finally figure out what's been holding you back about your future with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), piv sex, fear of commitment, discussions of pregnancy

WC: 7.1K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel, come on. We spent the better part of a year out there every single day, you know I can handle myself," you said, trying to reason with him.

His pulse thrummed in his throat, anger still bubbling just below the surface as he paced around the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards mindlessly.

"Do I need to remind you of all the shit that happened in that year?" he replied angrily, still pacing around the kitchen, burning off his nervous energy.

"No," you said softly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, guilt immediately washing over him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and you shook your head.

"It's fine."

Sighing, his palms roughly rubbed his face. He hated this feeling. He just wanted to keep you safe, but he knew he couldn't control you, either. And for whatever reason, you were hellbent on taking this girl back to her family.

"Please," he said, resorting to begging now. "Please don't go. I got a bad feelin' 'bout this."

"But you're going with me," you said, taking a few steps towards him. He eyed you wearily, but he could feel his resolve breaking. "You can keep me safe."

"Yeah, 'cause I did such a great job the first time," he muttered.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" you countered. He dropped his chin to his chest, and you knew you were wearing him down. Stepping forward to close the gap, you tentatively placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his chest. His fingers itched to touch you, but he refrained, his stubbornness winning the fight.

"I'm sorry 'bout what I said," he told you, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

"I told you it was fine."

"I meant what I said at Tommy's," he replied, looking behind you at the wall, avoiding eye contact. "That was low."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back with a shrug.

"I probably deserved it," you said. "Don't worry about it."

"No, you don't deserve it. Don't say that," he said, furrowing his brow and looking at you now. "I'm just sore about it, still."

"I know," you said quietly. You looked at one another for a moment, each of you unsure how to navigate this rough patch on top of everything else.

"Is there anythin' I can do to talk you outta this?"

"Short of tying me down, no," you said with a smirk.

"Don't gimme any ideas," he said, and although he was trying to sound serious, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a barely perceptible grin.

"Would that make you feel better, baby?" you asked lowly. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt a stirring below his waist at the tone in your voice.

"Don't do that," he warned, but his voice held no conviction.

"Do what?" you asked innocently.

"You're tryin' to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"You know it is."

You hummed and took a step forward. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down, giving him a soft kiss before leaving a slow trail of kisses along his scruffy jaw.

"This ain't fair," he sighed, closing his eyes and giving in, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, pressing you against his body.

"I know," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue all the way down his neck until you reached his collarbone. You grazed your teeth along the sensitive skin there, and he shuddered.

"If you know, then why're you doin' it?"

"Because you haven't touched me in weeks, and I need you," you said before sucking a bruise into his skin and leaving out the underlying reason: you needed to feel close to him.

"Fuck, sweetheart, c'mon," he complained weakly, but you knew you already won.

"Okay, I'll stop," you said suddenly, untangling yourself from him and stepping backwards. "I have other things I need to do anyway, like get ready for this trip."

He had you pushed up against the wall in a heartbeat, pulling your knees up so your legs clung to his waist for support, grinding his hips into you with a groan. You gasped when his mouth latched onto your neck, biting and licking aggressively as you clutched his broad shoulders.

"That kid gonna walk in here?" he asked, voice muffled against your neck.

"I locked the door when I came in."

"Good girl," he said, his big hands gripping your ass as he stepped you both away from the wall and walked you towards the living room, his mouth barely leaving your body in the process.

He dropped you both on the couch with a grunt, your legs falling open now that they didn't need to support you. Dragging his face off of your neck, you pulled him up for a deep kiss, his tongue instantly invading your mouth while his hands fumbled with the button on your shorts. You wiggled your body so you could free yourself of your shirt, only breaking contact with Joel for a moment. His hands cupped your breasts and he let out an appreciative groan, rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper into his mouth.

You could tell he needed you just as badly, the desperation was rolling off of him in waves. He only managed to pull down his jeans a few inches, freeing himself from his pants quickly. Tucking his chin down so he could line himself up, he pulled the bottom of his T-shirt up and held it between his teeth, not letting it go until he sunk the tip of his cock into you. His jaw relaxed with a soft moan, T-shirt fluttering back down to cover his stomach and his forehead coming to rest gently on your shoulder as he slowly stretched you open.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes screwed shut as you focused entirely on that blissful feeling of him first entering you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted until he bottomed out with a groan.

"God, I missed that so much," you whined, clutching his shoulders as you adjusted to his size. You felt him sigh with relief on top of you, unmoving, just enjoying the feeling for a few moments. Your fingers relaxed on his shoulders and you raked them gently over his back and up through his hair, your nails scraping over his scalp in the way that made him shiver.

Suddenly, his hands shot up and snagged both your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and into the couch cushion. He leaned up, all his weight pressing into your wrists as he looked down at you.

"Didn't you say somethin' about tyin' you down?" he asked with a smirk. Recognition flashed across your eyes and you grinned.

"I did," you said, and you felt him twitch inside you.

"This'll have to do," he told you, rolling his hips into you for the first time. You moaned, your hands instinctively trying to move to grab him, but you could only stretch out your fingers. He tsked at you, rolling his hips more.

"Nuh uh," he teased, feeling your muscles flexing under his grip. "Why d'you insist on drivin' me crazy all the damn time, huh?"

You mumbled something unintelligible as a response, too distracted, the sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of you commanding your full attention. Each and every inch of him pushing into you, making your head swim and your thighs tense.

"Had so much to say earlier, not so much anymore," he said, snapping his hips into you faster, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. His fingers squeezed around your wrists, watching as your tits bounced with every harsh thrust.

"Maybe next time they're lookin' for volunteers, I'll just fuck you to keep your mouth shut," he said with a grunt as he felt you clench around him, his hips stuttering for a second before he picked his pace back up.

"Joel," you whined. Your biceps ached from straining against his grip, not realizing how much you enjoyed touching him until you couldn't do it, and now it was all you wanted.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, his orgasm sneaking up on him faster than he expected. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. He opened his eyes again just to find yours were screwed tight, head tipped to the side, and lower lip trapped between your teeth.

"Look at me," he commanded, but you ignored him. Eyes closed, head still tilted away. "Look at me and tell me what you need," he said more firmly now. Urgently. Your eyes snapped open and you gazed up at him.

"Touch me," you whispered, and he instantly brought both your arms above your head, crossing your wrists so he could hold them down with one hand, freeing the other to slip between your bodies. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell open, drawing a loud moan from your throat the moment he made contact. You began to rock your hips upwards, meeting him thrust for thrust as his thumb pressed circles into your clit faster.

"C'mon," Joel begged, trying so hard to hold back so you could come first. "C'mon, I need to feel it, come for me."

You lifted your back off the couch, arching as you felt your orgasm swell. His name was stuck in your throat, body rigid for a moment as it washed over you, your fingers digging into his and nearly drawing blood.

"Oh, f-fuck, fuck yes," he groaned, slamming himself into you over and over, fucking you through it until your body relaxed under him. He pulled out quickly, stroking himself before he stilled, watching in a daze as he painted your stomach with his spend.

He released your wrists, panting as he sat back onto the couch and closed his eyes.

"Joel, can you-" you began to ask if he would hand you a tissue, but he cut you off, figuring out your request for himself.

"Yeah, hold on," he said, fixing his pants before standing up with a grunt and grabbing the tissue box, pulling one out and then carefully cleaning you up. You watched him as he stayed focused on his task, then frowned when he paused for a moment as he stared at your torso, lost in thought. You reached a hand out to twist the ends of his hair between your fingers, and that seemed to snap him out of it. Still avoiding your gaze, he finished cleaning you with a sigh, then dropped his head forward between his shoulders.

You thought maybe he was thinking about your conversation about kids since he had made sure to pull out this time, but when his thumb stretched up to graze the scars along your ribs, you realized you were wrong.

"Joel-"

"You could've died," he said, lifting his head to look at the scars you were rewarded years ago for saving his life. You curled his hair around your finger before tucking it behind his ear.

"You could've died, too," you countered.

"I don't care 'bout me, I care 'bout you."

"Well, I don't care about me, I care about you," you shot back. He sighed and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your naked body and resting the side of his head against your stomach.

"Please stay home," he whispered.

"I... I can't," you told him.

"Why?"

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wishing so badly that you could tell him Ellie's secret, but you made her a promise.

"Because she's scared, Joel. And she asked me. She was crying, you didn't see her," you explained. "When she found out I wasn't going, she was devestated."

"She was crying?" he asked in disbelief, lifting his head from your stomach to look at you, and you nodded.

He sighed again, defeated, and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine," he said, sounding tired. He reached behind him to find your clothes and handed them back to you, piece by piece, as you dressed yourself.

"It's only a couple of weeks," you assured him, standing up to button your shorts. He straightened and looked down at you.

"Suppose it's best you aren't here, anyway," he acquiesced. "Just in case these people see through our bullshit."

"Right," you said, chewing on your lower lip. "But they don't know where we live."

"No, but I got a feelin' they could find out if they really wanted to," he replied, walking back toward the kitchen and leaving you with yet another concern that would keep you up at night.

It was early in the morning as you and Joel silently made your way through the sleeping town towards the front gate. On your back you carried your pack with your rolled up sleeping bag strapped to the bottom, same as Joel. You felt unusually nervous, most likely due to Joel putting all those ideas in your head that something will go wrong. Or maybe it was because you hardly spent much time outside the walls of Jackson anymore, and you were worried you had become too soft, too accustomed to a domestic life, that you wouldn't remember how to survive in the woods.

"Last chance," Joel muttered beside you. You glanced up at him and gave him a smirk.

"Nice try," you told him.

With the front gate now in view, you could see three figures huddled in the darkness with only the light from the stable to illuminate them. Tommy noticed you coming first, looking up with a nod and causing Ellie to twist around with a wide grin. When she noticed Joel at your side, her smile faltered a bit, but she didn't say anything.

"You all ready to go?" Tommy asked, sleep still clouding his eyes. Joel nodded, glancing once at Ellie before looking away.

"We're gonna have to go on foot, not enough horses left behind for patrol and Eugene's crew," Maria said regrettably. You weren't bothered. You would be quieter on foot, anyway.

You left through the gate and began heading south through the mountains, your gun lying heavy against your back. When you first arrived in Jackson, it felt strange to not be armed all the time, like you were missing something, but now it was the opposite: you felt hyper aware of the handgun in the back of your jeans and the blade strapped to your ankle. Every step, you felt the objects brush against your skin, the metal irritating and reminding you of the danger that potentially lied ahead.

"Thought he said he wouldn't help take me back home," Ellie said quietly so Joel wouldn't overhear, falling in step next to you.

"Changed his mind," you told her, looking up at the back of his head several feet ahead of you. "See? He isn't so bad."

"Yeah, I guess not," she replied. "Still hates me, though."

"He doesn't hate you, Ellie. He's just frustrated with the whole situation," you assured her.

"Did you... tell him?" she asked you very quietly, and you shook your head quickly.

"Absolutely not," you told her, giving her a serious look. She nodded, looking relieved.

"Well, thanks. For not saying anything, and for coming with me. It's not that I don't like Tommy and Maria, it's just..." she trailed off, not sure how exactly to articulate her feelings, but she didn't have to.

"I know," you said with a smile. "You just like me the best."

She laughed and you grinned, knocking your shoulder into her lightly as you walked.

The group of you made it down the mountains with no issues. No infected, no people, not even any animals. You knew it was due to being so isolated, but it still made you feel a little less anxious. You made decent time the first day, surprising since you had thought Ellie would have slowed you down a bit, but the girl was quick on her feet and kept pace with the adults.

It was nearing September and the weather was usually the most comfortable this time of year. It was still warm, but not as sweltering as it had been. If you had to sleep on the forest floor, at least it wasn't the middle of winter.

You rolled out your sleeping bag next to Joel's, and Ellie rolled hers out near the other side of you. Not next to you, but close. Tommy and Joel had managed to snag a couple rabbits with your old bow, which meant you could conserve the dry goods you brought with you.

Taking watch at night wasn't so bad when there were four of you sharing the burden. It meant your shifts were shorter and much more tolerable. When it was your turn, you couldn't help but glance over at Joel while he slept restlessly on top of his sleeping bag. It was all coming back to you now that you were out in the forest like this. The way you and Joel used to make camp, take watch, hunt, scavenge. You could see the change in him almost immediately: his radar going up, constantly on high alert. He had a knack for survival early on. He knew right away you needed shelter, weapons, food, clothes. And he knew the smartest ways to get all those things. You, on the other hand, were a little slower at learning how to live like this, and this time was no exception. But you felt it coming back to you with each passing hour. You wondered if Joel ever had a hard time readjusting to life out in the wilderness, too, or if he never let it go in the first place.

It took Maria three whole days to finally corner you alone on the trail to talk. You were surprised it took her that long.

"He seems like he came around to this whole thing," she began, nodding in Joel's direction. You shrugged.

"I didn't give him much of a choice," you said with a smirk. "He's convinced something's going to happen, you know how he gets. He's... protective," you said, choosing your words carefully.

"Yeah, I can't really blame him, considering what you guys have been through," she said, glancing over at Tommy who was bringing up the rear. "I imagine if half that shit happened to me and Tommy, he would be a little protective too."

You hummed in agreement, watching Ellie dig her walking stick into the ground with each step she took, leaving little divots in the dirt behind her.

"So," Maria began, clearing her throat. "It kind of feels like something might have happened with you two after that little scare."

You sucked in air through your teeth and glanced nervously behind you at Tommy, making sure he couldn't hear you before replying.

"Didn't exactly go well," you admitted.

"I figured, given that comment at our house the other day," she said.

You caved and gave her the bullet points of the argument, not wanting to chance being overheard. You told her your reservations about having kids, and Joel's assumption that you would want them. You chose to leave out most of the hurtful things each of you had said to the other and focused on your concern about your future together and whether or not you would find a fair compromise.

"You don't even want to get married?" she asked, and you sighed.

"I don't know, Maria. I'm scared and I'm not sure why," you said quietly.

"Well, before the outbreak, did you see yourself getting married and having a family?"

You paused, knowing where she was going.

"Yes," you replied slowly.

"So it's not a matter of never wanting to. It must be a fear related to the outbreak, right?" she asked, and again you shrugged.

"I guess."

"Do you trust him?"

"Of course!" you said, almost insulted.

"Okay, okay. I know you love him, and you trust him, so what else is there? What could possibly make you so scared that you don't want to commit yourself to the man who worships the ground you walk on?" She was really pushing, laying it on thick and trying to drag it out of you.

"Because I'm afraid of losing him," you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you even had a chance to think. You stopped in your tracks, Maria doing the same and motioning for Tommy to walk ahead of you while you collected your thoughts. He gave you both a confused look as he wandered past, but he kept moving. Maria urged you to keep walking so it wouldn't draw the group's attention.

"What do you mean?" she prompted.

"This world we live in now, Maria," you began, focusing your eyes on the ground so you didn't have to look at her. "I'm terrified. Every time he leaves Jackson, I'm terrified he won't come back. Ever since that accident in the barn last year-" you stopped talking. You could feel your throat squeezing shut, remembering how awful it was for those three days when he didn't wake up, anticipating the worst.

"I know," she said, rubbing your arm as she walked next to you. She was there at the infirmary with you that night he was brought in, she remembered what you went through.

"We're so lucky to have found Jackson," you said after taking a deep breath. "But it doesn't mean bad things still can't happen. And I think if we were to get married, if we had that one perfect day filling my memory and Tommy or Jesse or Eugene come back home without him, I would never survive it. And how would I explain that to a child? I'm not strong enough for that."

Tears were streaming steadily down your cheeks now. You did your best to wipe them away with your hand but they were coming too fast. Maria pulled her pack around to her front so she could find a clean rag and handed it to you.

"I think-"

"And then what?" you continued, on a roll now and cutting her off. "I would have this ring on my finger, this constant reminder every single day of what I lost. Because you know I could never take it off. I could never move on. It would just be there, weighing me down every single day until I'm dead!"

You hadn't realized your voice was rising until Tommy turned his head to look at you curiously. You took a shaky breath in and angled your face to the ground so he wouldn't see your tears.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," you whispered, looking back up at Maria. "You just got engaged and here I am telling you all this horrible shit."

"Actually, everything you just said makes me feel the exact opposite," she said with a grin. You frowned, waiting for her to continue.

"If Tommy weren't to come home one day, I would feel like my world ended, of course. But you know what else?"

You shook your head, your tears finally slowing.

"After all that pain washed away, I would still have that one perfect day filling my memory, just like you said. I would hopefully have kids that I could look at and see a piece of him. Every day. I would have those memories, those moments with me forever. And if I have that, he would never be really gone, you know?"

Her eyes glistened as she spoke, but she was smiling. You blinked at her, rolling her words around in your head, unsure what to do with them.

"Just think about it," she said to you. "Do whatever makes you happy, but don't let fear hold you back. That's no way to live."

You nodded and turned to look back at the rest of the group traipsing through the forest, your eyes landing on Joel last, who was leading you all through the trees. Always so strong, unwavering, and sure of himself. He was a survivor. So what made you doubt him now?

"Just take what we absolutely need, and be quick," Joel told the everyone firmly. You were standing outside a run down gas station somewhere in the middle of Utah, a little more than halfway to Phoenix. "Restock our food, first aid, whatever, and then we're movin' out. We're already behind schedule as it is," he continued, brow furrowed in frustration.

You knew he wanted to get back home, but even he had to admit the trip was going as smooth as possible so far. Only twice did you come across a few infected in your travels, and both times you were able to take them down quietly and without anyone getting hurt. It had been so long since you had seen one, you had nearly forgotten what they looked like. Or maybe as time went on, they just got uglier.

You walked into the store behind Joel, Ellie right on your heels, as you did a quick sweep of the room. It was small and easy to confirm it was safe.

"I'm gonna check out the back, make sure there's no surprises," Maria said softly next to you, and you nodded.

"I'm right behind you," you said.

"No, that's alright, I can do it," she said hurriedly, and before you could protest, she was slipping behind the stockroom door.

"Tommy, c'mere. Let's see if there's any gas left and if any of these cars are workin'," Joel whispered to his brother, and Tommy nodded in agreement, zipping his pack shut after he stuffed it full of expired nuts and beef jerky. Before he left, Joel turned back to you and Ellie.

"Be careful," he said, staring at you, and you nodded. "And no foolin' around," he added, now looking straight at Ellie, refusing to look away until she rolled her eyes and nodded. He ticked his jaw and picked up the gas can he found on one of the shelves, leaving just the two of you to explore.

"Be cool if we got a car," she said to you as she poked around the aisles, looking for anything worthwhile. "My parents never had one."

"Oh, no?"

"I don't think so. Maybe when I was really small they did, but I can't remember. My parents mostly took the bus or trains," she trailed off with a shrug.

"It's been a while since I've been in a car, myself," you murmured, sifting through the dry goods on the shelves.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Ellie said, looking around to make sure Maria was still in the back.

"Sure," you replied, scrunching your nose at some pop tarts that looked a little past their prime.

"Do you think doctors could make a cure?"

You stopped what you were doing to give her your full attention now.

"I mean, like, with my blood or whatever," she added.

"I don't know, Ellie. Science was never my best subject," you joked.

"But if there were some doctors out there who knew how vaccines were made, do you think they could do it?"

You had never really given the idea of a vaccine much thought. When Ellie told you her secret, you weren't thinking about a vaccine. You were thinking about the rare gift she was given, that being immune would give her the chance at a good, long life. And she deserved to have that with her family.

Then something clicked about the Fireflies.

"Ellie," you said slowly. "The Fireflies. They were based in two different hospitals, right?" She nodded. "Were they trying to develop a vaccine? Is that why they wanted Joel and Tommy to take you to Salt Lake City?"

"Yes," she admitted quietly. You took a deep breath, trying to pick your questions carefully and wondering why she didn't tell you this in the first place.

"And were you okay with that?"

"Not exactly. But Marlene said because I'm a minor, I didn't have a say," she told you.

"That's not true!" you said, feeling your anger flare. "Of course you have a say."

She shrugged, seeming indifferent, but you knew something about it must have bothered her if she brought it up. You were about to ask her more questions when you heard a box fall in the stock room. You whipped your head around and pulled out your gun, ushering Ellie behind you as you made your way over to the door. You nudged it open and peeked inside, your gun pointed at the floor.

"It's alright, it's just me!" Maria called out. You let out a sigh of relief and shoved the gun back in your jeans before pushing the door open all the way, finding Maria hunched over the floor scooping up floss and toothpaste that had spilled from the box.

"Find anything good?" you asked, your eyes roaming over the picked over shelves.

"Uh, not really," she said, shoving the box back against the wall. She stood up to look at you, her hand strategically hidden behind her back as she glanced down at her backpack on the floor near your feet, reaching out a hand.

"Do you mind?" she asked, motioning towards the pack.

"Oh, sure," you said, picking it up and handing it to her. She avoided eye contact and quickly snatched the bag from your grip. You raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but let it go, deciding to grill her later when Ellie wasn't around.

"Oh, cool, check it out!" Ellie exclaimed from the small break room. She popped her head out and raised a comic above her head. "I don't have this one yet!"

"Nice!" you said with a smile. There were so few pleasures the kid had, and that silly comic book series was one of them.

You heard the bell ding from the front of the store, then Tommy calling out Maria's name. The three of you headed back out to find Joel and Tommy waiting for you.

"All good?" Joel asked you.

"Yep. Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah, we are. With a new set of wheels," Tommy said with a grin, leading you out of the store and into the parking lot, where a dark green pickup truck was running idle.

"Wow, a '96 Dodge Ram, my dream car," you said teasingly, and you caught Joel smirk out of the corner of your eye. You took his hand and stopped, letting the others go ahead and pack their things into the truck, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"This is great, Joel. Thank you," you said, looking up at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Don't gotta thank me," he replied. You took a moment to searching his eyes, only to see the affection he held for you reflected right back. Even after everything you put him through, his love for you never wavered. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, lost in thought, and he gave you a curious look.

"You alright?" he asked. You blinked and dropped your hand.

"Yeah. Let's go," you said. Walking toward the truck, you slipped into the back of the cab where Maria sat behind Tommy with Ellie wedged between you both in the back.

"Let's get as many miles as we can under our belts before sundown," Joel said with a grunt as he lifted himself into the passenger seat in front of you.

"A proper road trip, with gas station snacks and all," Tommy said, shifting the truck into drive and heading out onto the open road.

By the end of the day you had made it to the Arizona border. Joel seemed like he was in a much better mood, either due to the truck or making up time on the road. Probably both. You noticed he even cracked a smile at a dumb joke Ellie told Tommy around the fire. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, except for Maria. She was unusually quiet and only offered up tight smiles when Tommy and Joel were telling a story and sharing a flask of whiskey.

Guilt began to creep into the back of your mind. She didn't seem bothered by it at the time, but maybe what you said about marriage and children sat with her and now you were giving her doubts, as well.

That night when you woke her up to take her turn on watch, you decided to stay awake a little longer when you knew no one could overhear you and find out what was going on.

"You seemed quiet today, everything okay?" you asked her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She sighed and glanced around at the other three members of your group, confirming they were sound asleep, before standing up from her sleeping bag and picking up her rifle. She tipped her head towards the trees, indicating that you should follow. Once you were far enough away to talk quietly, she stopped to root around in her jacket pocket.

"If this is about what I said yesterday, I am so sorry," you began. "Don't listen to me, I obviously have my own shit to work through and you shouldn't let it effect you and Tommy."

"Huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow until she realized what you meant. "Oh! I already told you, that didn't bother me at all. But the timing of that conversation is kind of ironic..."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

She held something out to you in the dark. You took it from her and stepped more into the moonlight so you could get a better look.

"What is... ohmygod!" you nearly yelled, slapping your hand over your mouth at the last minute to muffle your voice. "Maria!" you whisper shouted, eyes wide, looking back and forth between her and the strip of plastic in your hand. She was grinning like an idiot with tears in her eyes. You pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're pregnant!" you said quietly, and you felt her nod. You stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. "Does Tommy know?"

"Not yet, I literally just took it today. I thought maybe I had just put on weight or something, then I was wondering how the hell a fourteen year old can keep up on the trail better than me, and I just had a hunch," she said excitedly.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, looking back down at the test in your hand before giving it back to her. "Congratulations! This is... amazing!"

"Thank you," she said, staring down at the test like she still couldn't believe it. "I'll tell him in the morning. I think I just needed a bit of time to get my head around it, first."

"Yeah, of course," you said, nodding. Then your thoughts drifted to Joel, and as if she was reading your mind, Maria gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a sore topic for you guys-"

"No, don't you dare be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about. We'll be fine," you assured her.

"Okay," she said, still smiling as she took a deep breath and pocketed the test.

The next morning, Maria pulled Tommy aside to tell him the good news. Joel and Ellie hung their heads over their breakfast sleepily and physically jumped when Tommy's voice carried through the trees. Joel stood up, at first unsure if there was danger, then sat back down in a huff when he saw his brother was smiling.

"Would'ya keep it down?" Joel seethed as Tommy and Maria walked back into earshot. "You're gonna attract attention with all that noise."

"Sorry," Tommy said with a wide grin, looking back at Maria fondly. Joel looked at him expectantly, waiting for Tommy to explain himself. You held your breath when he finally spoke.

"We're gonna have a baby!" Tommy announced gleefully. You stood and gave him a warm smile before enveloping him into a tight hug, whispering congratulations in his ear before moving to Maria to give her the same treatment, pretending it was your first time hearing the news.

"No shit," Ellie was saying with a smirk. She offered Tommy and Maria both an awkward hug. "Congrats!"

Finally, you allowed your gaze to drift over to Joel, who hadn't moved a muscle, staring straight ahead. Your eyes flicked over to Maria nervously then back to Joel, everyone waiting for him to say something.

He was lost in thought, hardly even realizing everyone was looking at him when all he could think about was this should have been us. Ellie cleared her throat loudly and Joel blinked, finally snapping out of his fog. His eyes focused on Tommy and he gave him a weak smile before stretching out his hand and giving him a firm shake.

"Congrats," Joel finally managed to say, the word getting mangled in his throat.

Whatever extra time you had made up the day before using the truck was wasted that morning as Tommy and Maria went back and forth over their options. Ultimately, Tommy wanted to be cautious, and considering how close you were to Phoenix and near the end of your journey, decided he and Maria would head back home early.

You didn't see any harm in them leaving: the trip had been quiet and uneventful. Four of you came along as protection that wasn't even necessary.

Even so, at first you thought Joel would protest. But when his brother decided on his plan, Joel had even offered them the truck, saying "I would probably have done the same thing." A sentence that knocked the wind out of you.

Maria and Tommy each gave Ellie a big hug, and she thanked them for taking her in and getting her back to her family, her tone sincere and eyes a little watery. Ellie went to pack up her things and clean up the camp as you and Joel said goodbye to Tommy and Maria.

"Should only be another day on foot, weather looks like it's gonna hold up," Tommy told you both, glancing up at the clear skies.

"And what if her aunt and uncle... ain't with us anymore?" Joel asked, side-eyeing Ellie to make sure she wasn't listening.

"She was telling me a little bit about them when I asked her where they lived. Which reminds me-" Maria reached into her pack to pull out her map with detailed instructions on how to get to the house, and handed it to Joel. "They sounded like preppers. She said he had what sounded like a bunker, with weapons and cameras and shit. So when you get close, keep an eye out. They don't sound like they take kindly to strangers."

Joel nodded, shoving the map into his pack and sliding it back over his shoulders.

"Alright, then. See you in a week or so," Joel said, giving Tommy another handshake before turning around to help Ellie clean up camp. You gave them both a quick hug one more time.

"You gonna be okay?" Maria asked you once Tommy jumped into the drivers seat of the truck.

"Yeah, of course. Just take care of yourself," you said with a smile.

"I will. And remember: think about what I told you," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "You can't let fear run your life."

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks."

She gave you one last smile before climbing into the cab. They gave you all a quick wave as they made their way back North, the silence that they left behind suddenly deafening.

"You ready?" Joel asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You could feel it. The chasm between you was threatening to grow bigger again, pulling you apart just when you were starting to feel like you made a little progress.

"Yep," you said, adjusting the backpack on your shoulders.

Ellie was unusually quiet as you made your way down Route 89, passing signs along the way for the Grand Canyon. Any other time, you would beg Joel to take a detour so you could see it, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You ever been?" you asked Ellie, nodding towards the sign on the side of the road.

"Yeah, once," she said. "The summer before it happened."

You nodded, understanding she was referring to the outbreak and most likely, one of the last few good memories she had with her parents.

"You?" she asked, and you shook your head.

"I grew up in Chicago, that's pretty far from here. My parents didn't go on many vacations," you explained.

"How about you, Joel?" Ellie asked, and you smiled at her obvious attempt at bonding.

"Never saw it, either," he said gruffly. You looked at him in surprise. You had just assumed he would have seen it at some point in his life.

"Did you - are you from Chicago, too?" she asked, surprised that he didn't snap at her for once.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Me and Tommy grew up in Texas."

"That's not too far away from here. Would you ever go back to visit?"

Joel scoffed and shook his head.

"It's a big state, kid. Would probably take two weeks to get to Austin from here," he said. "Besides, nothin' left there for me anyway. I was livin' in New York City, moved there when I was 24."

You remained quiet; shocked and pleasantly surprised at how open Joel was being with Ellie. You could tell she was happy, too, by the way she was asking more questions to keep him talking.

By the end of the day, you had made it to the city limits of Phoenix. Joel had found a somewhat secluded area near a small stream to set up camp, deciding to venture into the city in the morning. Once you felt confident Ellie had fallen asleep, you wandered out to find Joel keeping first watch, sitting against a tree. You cleared your throat quietly as you approached, but he already knew you were there.

"Hey," you said softly, leaning up against the tree.

"You should get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow," he replied without looking at you.

"I know. Just came to see if you wanted to talk about it."

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight on the ground.

"Not much to say," he replied distantly.

You could tell you weren't going to get much out of him, so you nodded and pushed yourself off the tree, turning to head back to camp.

"Do you think you could ever change your mind?" he asked you suddenly. You stopped and turned around. Your chest ached at the way he looked at you, eyes all wide and soft and hopeful.

"I'm trying," you whispered. And you meant it.

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ash5monster01 · 6 months ago

Text

52nd Street

Chapter Six - Until The Night 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, dirty talk, praise, no use of protection, language.

Summary: Finally at a real job, Steve finds that the both of you aren’t as close anymore. He yearns for the nights when you two are finally alone.

word count: 3.2k

Five ←→ Seven

Masterlist

Fall 1990

But now it feels as though the day goes on forever

It was great, at first. It was great when you planned the beautiful backyard wedding, and it was great when Steve landed his big job, even better when you were able to save up enough to buy back Steve’s childhood home. You were both living the dream, enjoying the married life, and finally doing what you both pictured when you first started dating. Thing was, no one ever really brings up how hard it can be.

When you were just dating it was easy, you both worked the same job, got to go home to your apartment together, were extremely involved in the other’s life. Now Steve left for work and you worked from home. When you were done with that you ran errands, and found yourself lacking any conviction in life. As for Steve, the job would run him down, doing the very thing he promised himself he never would, but he wanted to provide for you. Wanted to share a life that wasn’t constantly a struggle and if work was the only thing he had to sacrifice, then so be it. Just sometimes, he couldn’t shake that mood when he got home.

Because of all of this you had lost some of that passion, that desperation to always be with each other, and Steve was determined to get it back. He did his part, he never asked where you go during the day when he leaves for work in the morning, the both of you going your different ways to seperate situations, and it wasn't that easy anymore. It was required of him to do what must be done and give his time to total strangers. He could no longer save that all for you and it made his days feel like they go on forever. More than they ever did before. So today, on this very Friday he promised himself he would make the most of it. Until the night, when he could make it up to you. He might just make it, eyes trained on the clock and small pile of paperwork in front of him.

"Hey Lenny" you smile fondly at the bag boy that had been working in the local grocery for a few months now. Considering you went shopping at the same time every other Friday, you had come to know many of the workers here.

"Hey Mrs. Harrington, beautiful day today" the sweet young boy answered and you couldn't help but cringe at the name. Mrs. made you feel old, which hopefully you weren’t yet. Then again you were married at twenty three, feeling vaguely like a teenager and an adult all at the same time. You always wondered if things would have been different if you and Steve had gone to college. Either way, you only liked it when Steve called you Mrs. Harrington because it normally led to something a bit more pleasing.

"One of the last good ones Lenny, it'll be cold before you know it" you grinned at him as you loaded the items onto the belt, already mentally checking off that you had everything you would need for the next two weeks. Lost in another world you do not notice the big haired brunnette rolled up behind you. Startling almost instantly when she calls your name.

"Hey Nancy" you grin at her, her soft feautres beaming back at you. Still gorgeous as the first day you met her, you can't help but feel the twinge in your gut everytime you remember she was the first girl your husband loved. You had to remind yourself that was another lifetime ago, years seperating the two and now you were married to Steve and she was engaged to Johnathon, the wedding invite for this coming summer already on your fridge.

"How're you, how's Steve, heard he finally took that big job his Dad offered him? You'll have to have us over for dinner soon, I'm desperate to see how you redecorated" she rambles out, too many thoughts on the forefront of her mind and suddenly you feel overwehlmed. Mind stuck on your absent husband who tried his hardest but couldn't escape the effects of his job. How bored you were all alone all day just to have Steve come home to tired to talk. To tired to do anything really.

Nancy see's the tears rimming your eyes almost instantly and she suddenly feels guilty for anything she had said wrong. She's quick to beckon you along, helping you with your groceries and pretty soon it's not long until you are both stood out of the store, bagged items clinking along in your carts. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, really, I'm just overwehlmed" you try to tell her, eyes red and strained from fighting off tears. She shakes her head as you both reach your car, her automatically helping. You already felt bad for scarring Lenny with your meltdown.

"Talk to me, you know I'll understand" she urges, eyes full of fondness and you know it's true. She knew what it was like to be in a long time relationship at your age, she was going through it the same as you, and if anyone understood it would be her. With this in mind you let out a heavy sigh and decide to allow it.

"Steve has just been distant lately. It's not his fault, I know it's the job. He never wanted to work for his Dad, you know that, but he took the job for us. He wanted something that could sustain a future and I agreed, but now we've lost that connection. He comes home too tired for me and sometimes I wonder if we would've been better off staying in our small apartment and running that stupid video store" you spill, all of your fears and emotions barren for the girl who least expected to be in the store parking lot with you, sharing your sadness.

"That's not true, and I'm sure he feels bad about it too. Steve loves you, I see it everytime he looks at you. You guys are just stuck right now" she says with the soft shake of her head and you can't help but sigh. You weren't sure how much more you could take with this no talking thing.

“God I hope you’re right, it would be so tragic if the end of us was something as silly as this. Especially when the whole reason he proposed was because I promised I’d love him just the way he is” you say, hands pressing up to your eyes to relieve some tension and tears. Nancy shifts uncomfortably, knowing she was probably part of the very reason Steve had those trust issues. A lifetime ago she had once called the entirety of him bullshit and she regretted it always.

“Just, try to talk to him tonight. Who knows, maybe things will be different” she smiles at you, silver engagement ring glimmering in the sun as she sets the last of your bags in the trunk. You smile right back, collecting the small brunette into a hug.

“Thanks Nance, we’ll have you and Johnathon over for dinner soon. I promise” you tell her and she smiles, hugging you back tightly.

“Good luck tonight” she tells you as she pulls back, gentle features searching your own and you smile, a weight already lifted from your shoulders after your brief talk with her.

“Until the night” you nod and she gives one last smile and wave before pushing her cart to her own car and leaving you to make your way home. Until the night, you just might make it, when you see him again.

You’re only halfway through putting groceries away when you hear the familiar rumble of the BMW pull into the driveway. You hate the way your shoulders deflate just at the idea of Steve coming in and barely paying you any mind. So you continue to put the groceries away as he makes his way in, tie already loose around his neck as he spots you working away in the kitchen.

Steve notices how you barely even turn to greet him, a sad smile on your face as you continue to do what you always did on Friday nights when he got home. He can see how afraid you are that you’ve both changed but sadly the two of you were just getting older. No longer eighteen year old kids excited to explore the big world. You both had been through a lot and he hated that he was slowly turning into his father. A shell of a man no longer in touch with the love he might’ve shared. This very thought is what brings him to walk towards you and wrap his arms around you from behind.

“Hi Rosy” he breathily whispers, head ducking and placing a kiss on the expanse of your neck. You can’t help but stiffen in his arms, almost shocked by the action. This was the Steve you first fell in love with all those years ago, and you hated how odd it was to see him.

“How was work?” you bring yourself to ask and Steve sighs, chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Terrible, couldn’t do a thing just waiting to come home and see you” he admits, knowing all to well how he couldn’t keep his mind off of you all day. You can’t help the way your eyebrows draw together in suspicion and you’re quick to turn around in his arms and face your husband.

“Where is this coming from?” And the question makes the guilt twist in his gut with disgust, hating how he had been treating you these last few months. That was going to change, it needed to change.

“I know I haven’t been great lately. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how many broken hearts and lonely faces we’ve shared over the years. We’ve had lovers come and go but we agreed to stay for each other and I haven’t been doing my part” Steve earnestly says, brows furrowed in sadness and his hands locked around your waist as if he let go you would disappear.

“Steve-“ you start with the shake of your head but he’s quick to stop you, hazel eyes searching your own and trying to portray all the regret buried deep within him.

“I know I’ll have my fears like every man and you’ll have tears like every woman but we got this. Even if today we’re unsure but this is what we believe, I believe in us and I want to know how we can go on? I’m going to make a change because not having you until the night is torture” the words he speaks are ones you had been dying to hear for a very long time and you can’t help but smile as your hands reach to cradle his face.

“It’s been torture for me too” you tell him and just like that his lips are sealed against yours in a kiss, his body weight pushing against you and you get sandwiched between him and the counter. You kiss him like a woman starved, which technically you were. Starving for a desirable touch from your husband who wants nothing but you in that moment.

As Steve kisses you he makes a promise to himself. A promise that when the sun goes down and the day is over, and the last of the light is gone as people pour into the street, he will make his way to you. Getting closer as each of the cars turn their headlights on, you’ll be opening up just as they’re closing it down. Work was no longer going to control him, it was just something for him to do during the day until he came home and dedicated himself to you. He knows this to be true when your fingers slide up and through his hair, lower belly nudging against him. He just smiles into your lips as his hands hook under your legs and lift you to the counter.

“I love you” he says in a way that reassures instead of searches for a response. You smile into the kiss, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you.

“Then show me” you urge him, fingers digging into his shoulders and you slowly grind against the zipper of his jeans. God bless casual Fridays. Steve just grins, hands hooking under you to carry you to the bedroom, dinner and groceries now long forgotten. He loves that while people were going to sleep, you’ll be just starting to touch. He planned to have it that way every night, thankful he was finally beginning to feel again and beginning to give. It had been such a long time and he liked how it made him feel alive.

“You’re so perfect” Steve grins against your skin, kisses trailing down your neck and to your chest. The sensation brings you back to the very first time you ever slept together, how sweet and caring he was. Just the idea of it brings your hands to his hair, softly tugging just as he starts nudging up the hem of your shirt and placing a soft kiss on your stomach. When his fingers curl in the waistband of your pants you can’t help but whimper, needing so much more.

Steve grins at the sound, wasting no time in tugging your pants down, revealing your panties where a wet patch had already started to form. He groans as his tongue glides over it, desperate for a taste of you because it had been so long. Writhing beneath him, he takes his time as he slowly slides the panties down your legs and revealing your glistening core. Steve smiles at you while he drags his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of his finger and nudging your clit.

“Please Steve” you beg him as he removes his finger and places it in his mouth. His eyes sparkle with amusement, much darker from the mix of lust and teasing he had been doing.

“Please what?” he asks while feigning innocence. As if he wasn’t currently between your legs right now.

“I need your mouth” you tell him, voice heavy and full of desire. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice as his dips down, nose nudging against your clit as he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, the sound becoming strangled when his lips close around your clit and suck hard. Your moans encourage him, bringing him to eat you like a man starved. Your hands find his hair again, caressing the brunette locks as he shoves a finger inside.

“So fucking tight” he mutters, voice raspy and strangled. You can’t help but admire the way he tries his best not to grind into the side of the bed as he listens to your moans.

You do Steve a favor and make quick work of removing your top and bra as he continues to eat you out like an expert. Your legs start to shake the minute you pinch your own nipples and when Steve looks up to see what you’re doing, he nearly faints. “Let me baby,” he muffles into your pussy as you feel that coil begin to tighten. His hands replace your own, groping at the dough of your breasts as you try not to grind against his face.

“Fuck Steve, I’m going to cum” you tell him and that only brings him to move faster, tongue exploring all of you as you shake against him. When he sucks hard on your clit again, you find your eyes rolling back in your head as your orgasm washes over you. He smirks proudly, wiping at his lip as he stands from you, watching as you shake against the mattress.

“Such a good girl” he grins, starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. You watch him shamelessly, admiring the bulge tucked away in his jeans. Steve smiles the whole time, watching you admire him as he strips to his naked form. Your mouth waters at the sight of his chest hair and you can’t help but giggle as his naked form crawls over top of you.

“I’ve needed this” you tell him, panting as he reaches to nudge the tip of him against your folds. His eyes bore into yours, desire for you through the roof.

“Yeah baby?” he asks and you nod, almost on the verge of tears if he didn’t do something soon.

“Yeah, needed you” you tell him in a whine and Steve grins, guiding himself into you, slowly sinking in. You grip his shoulders at the sensation, nails leaving crescent moon marks against his shoulder blades.

“Fuck” you breathily mutter and Steve grins, moving just as agonizingly slow as he fully bottoms himself out. Steves head tips back at the sensation, not moving right away as your walls flutter around him.

“I wanted you to know before I leave again, before the light of dawn, and before this evening can end, I have been waiting for this for so long” Steve says and before you can respond to the heart felt words he’s pulling back and plunging himself in again. You moan out as Steve finds a steady pace, head dropping back down to look at you. He doesn’t miss the way your breasts bounce from his thrusts and he finds himself steadying with his hands on your chest, ramming into you as he feels your nipples pebble beneath his palms.

“So perfect Rosy” he praises, closing his eyes tight as he struggles not to come undone. Still sensitive from your first orgasm you find it hard to even register how good it all feels. When he starts hitting that one spot you feel your back arch against the covers. Steve knows this tell, had seen it a hundred times before, so he quickens his pace, moaning as you tighten around him more and more.

Before you can even process it, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, nearly knocking you out. You practically leave earth as Steve continues to drive into you, relishing in the vice grip you have around his length. His hips stutter when his own orgasm follows, coating your insides as he smiles and starts to drop his body weight against you. When you both calm he doesn’t bother sliding out just yet, enjoying the feeling of being this close to you. Being one with you.

All day he kept thinking until the night he just might make it. If he just kept holding on for when he saw you again. If he had known it would’ve been like this, he never would’ve survived. So he lays against you, bare skin slick with sweat and sticking to his own. He loves that he can hear the thump of your heart in his ear, pounding as you came down from your high. He waited his whole life for someone like you and to think he almost wasted a second of it. He was so glad he figured it all out. Just how badly he needed you and always would.

“Now that was fun” you say, hands softly grazing through his hair as he relaxed against you and Steve smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

“Good, because it’s happening every night from here on out baby” he says with a smile and you laugh lightly, Steve’s head bouncing against you because of it.

“Until the night then”

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