#i need to do a before and after post of me before I started exploring gender stuff

[stxrslut]

DIDN'T GIVE UP 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader

summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for

content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, brief handjob

author's note; inspired by a few conversations had over on @starfxkrinc about post rehab rafe. I'm super happy with how this one turned out, I really love exploring these sides of rafe

you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.

even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months. 

you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.

“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.

you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.

you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything. 

rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.” 

you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.

“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.

though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic. 

that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.

you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?” 

rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.

“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.

you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration. 

you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic. 

“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.

“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.” 

you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.

“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.

you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.” 

he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”

you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–” 

rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves. 

“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard. 

you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick. 

he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself. 

he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.

you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.

he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too. 

poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms. 

he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time. 

of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it. 

rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment. 

after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.

once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.” 

rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.

[lenaboskow]

PLS PLS PLS GET INTO HOW WOULD CHRIS REACT I find it so interesting, because most of the times is Chris just going "Great ! Im happy!" which valid, but honestly? I really like when it's more complex than that, like in the fic Pinky Promise by rainbow_nerds, that explores a bit the fact that Chris does in fact has abandoment issues, like I don't doubt that Chris (even angry) wants his dad to be happy, but c'moooon, his mother was his primary caretaker (because his dad left for the military, though it always hard for me to get the Diaz Timeline), then she left him, then she came back, then she died, his dad almost died at least twice (that he is aware of), Buck in the hospital, etc. Chris is going to have many complicated emotions ! I love him ! And I just wished people explored more all that potencial, you know?

i vividly remember making a diaz boys timeline back before the s7 finale but i just spent thirty minutes looking for it and i'm pretty sure i never posted it so... oops. maybe i'll make one later with the references but (apologies for the mess this is i tried to make it organized but i’m sick so there’s only so much i can do lmao):

when you look at it, buck has been consistently in christopher's life longer than shannon ever was, even if you restart after the lawsuit. shannon was him primary caregiver until he was about three, and then for a year it was eddieandshannon, after which she left. after that, it was consistently eddie. even if he wasn't around that often because he was working, he was still there, and that's what chris remembers. she came back for about half a year when he was seven, but then she died.

not counting the lawsuit, buck has been in christopher's life since he was eight. but the lawsuit wasn't that long, it was a few weeks at most, so the real answer is he's been in his life since he was seven. that's seven years at this point. to chris, buckandeddie has been a constant, more so than eddieandshannon, even if it's not the same type of partnership. and that's just a fact. sure, he'd known shannon for seven years, same as he's known buck, but technically she wasn't there for all of it. that's what he remembers.

but the same way eddie thought he needed to be with shannon romantically so as not to ruin the relationship, chris probably thinks eddie and buck need to keep the status quo not to ruin the relationship. especially when you take into his warped view of romantic relationships. shannon, ana, marisol, they all ended terribly for eddie. and buck? i'm not sure what he's told chris about his relationships, but he doesn't have a much better track record. abby ghosted him, ali left at the first sign of trouble, there was the whole jonah scenario with taylor (who actually was in christopher's life, so that definitely messed with chris a bit), tommy broke up with him seemingly out of nowhere...

it makes the most sense that chris wouldn't want them to date. if chris was home when they told him, i can imagine him calling pepa or carla, kind of a parallel to him running away to buck in s4 (which he can't do now for obvious reason). i don't think the arc would last long, i think whoever he ran to would start the conversation and tell him about an ex that they're still friends with, and then eddie would come to pick him up and they'd talk it out, there'd be a buckley-diaz scene, end of ep.

but if he was still in texas? he'd probably yell at them over the video call and then refuse to answer any calls or texts afterwards. buck and eddie would probably "break up" for an ep or two, and be absolutely miserable. this probably culminates in eddie taking a trip to texas (alone, maybe not even telling buck) and talking it out with chris, addressing their mutual fears about the relationship and eddie explaining that even if it doesn't work out, they'd still be friends, and even if that doesn't work out, buck would still be in his life, that it wouldn't be like when his mom left. there's definitely a video call to buck in this, after eddie and chris have talked their feelings out, and then chris would ask to come back home, effective immediately.

but there's also the question of how chris would react if eddie tells chris about his feelings for buck (pre-relationship). he'd probably tell eddie he can never act on it, then tell buck the same thing (without telling eddie) and then there's a few eps of buck and eddie acting distant from each other before chris snaps and says "you weren't supposed to act like you're already divorced!". of course that's if he's in la. if he's in texas it would probably play out the same way it would've if they were already together after they stopped avoiding each other and finally talked it out.

of course, they could go the easy route and have chris say "it's about time" but this is 911 we're talking about, they probably won't do that

[theeretblr]

I feel like I am getting better at achieving ✨️ Gender ✨️

[seventh-district]

.

[coulsonlives]

I just had to share this video because holy shit, it hits the nail right on the head! So well spoken. This stuff needs to be circulated more, esp with the growing number of people thinking they have this because of misinformation, or just outright faking it.

[flashhwing]

I think im only gonna plan my campaign up to level 10 then whatever happens happens. leaving the plot from there up to my players. your turn to weave the narrative bitch

[httpsserene]

I have been having SUCH a thought since the Thigh Riding, and I NEED to tell you.

We know reader has been loving Max and Charles’ thighs, but have you seen those silicone thigh toys? They’re basically ridged pads you strap to your thigh and…well you can guess what they do with them.

I just- I feel like it would elevate it, their sweet girl opening up to the world of toys whilst in the comfort of something she loved.

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞: 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞

summary: all my (terrified and oversensitive) homies hate vibrators!! max and charles introduce you to something better.  content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. vibrators. thigh riding. sex toys. non-penetrative sex. edging. praise kink. corruption kink. dom/sub undertones. coming untouched. sub!charles. sub!reader. dom!max. pairing: max verstappen x charles leclerc x fem!black!reader word count: 2.4k words.

author’s notes: this is from december 2023, jesus christ. about fucking time right, @vetteltea? this has been haunting me in my sleep ever since this hit my inbox, now it’s y’all’s problem too < 333 psss, next post will either be toasty part two (toto) or a smau xxx

(if you’re unsure about what these specific thigh toys are, don’t worry, i would link an example but idk if that would get me put in tblr jail and i’m on thin ice with my mentions, tags, and even dms not working :| look up “grinding pad sex toy” to get an idea of what i’m referencing in this fic. )

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You’ve deeply repressed the memory of your orgasm-deprived outburst that kick started your sexual exploration with Max and Charles. Vaguely, you can remember saying that you possibly considered the thought of buying a vibrator to get yourself off since riding your pillow wasn’t enough anymore.

[…you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one)...]

[…you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating…”]

Charles was right. You didn’t have to go streaking or buy a sex toy to get off, your boyfriends took care of you. That night, you were satisfied by riding Max’s thigh. Then a few days later, you learned how to pleasure your men with handjobs. A couple of days after that you were fingerfucked into an altered mental state, then followed up with watching Charles cum untouched as Max ate him out. You had Max’s mouth on you next and weeks later in a Spanish villa, you allowed them to take your virginity.

The five days you three spent in that villa were filled with pleasure, as Max and Charles fulfilled every request of yours without question. In bed, on the sofa, from the kitchen floor to the dining table, from the hot tub to the bathroom shower, horizontally, vertically, parabolically, from dusk to dawn—the two years of relationship you had without sexual intimacy had been put to rest. The understanding, the vulnerability, and the trust rooted within everyone had led to that moment. It was worth it.

So, one would understand your confusion when Max drops the idea of sex toys in conversation with you and Charles on a random morning. With an audible noise of confusion, you tilt your head up at him adorably, and genuinely question, “Why would I use a toy when I have you two?” Your tummy tightened when that sentence caused Charles to look at you with dripping molten eyes and Max’s mumbled grumble about corrupting your innocence goes unheard. Minutes later, you were bent over the kitchen island, the skirt of your sundress shoved up around your waist, and your white panties dangling off of one ankle as they took turns eating you out. Needless to say, you forgot about the subject of conversation the moment they knocked your legs open.

Eventually, they do manage to have a chat about toys without it devolving into sex. 

“Schat,” Max grabbed your attention, the clink of his silverware resting on his plate further interrupted your focus on spinning pasta onto your fork.

“Yes, Maxy?” you responded, meeting his eyes with a smile.

“After this discussion, we will never bring this up again if you are adamantly against the idea,” you brought your fork to your lips, munching away with a look of puzzlement, the Dutchman continued, “But, Charlie and I were talking…and we think, that—with your approval, of course—that there’s a chance you may enjoy experiencing and learning about sex toys, and how good they can make you feel. As long as either one of us is using them on you—and, with your hatred of them—they’re also not vibrators.”

You choked on your pasta, Charles making a noise of surprise as he rushed forward to pat you on the back.

Airways now cleared, you looked at Max with watery eyes, “There was not enough foreshadowing to let me know where the conversation was going. And, fuck vibrators. They are way too strong.”

The Monegasque’s eyes brightened with humor, “Hm. I think vibrators are nice, especially when they’re in Max’s hand.”

“You’re a menace and a freak,” the older man responded, “And she’s chronically sensitive. Don’t tease.”

Charles tugged at one of your curls, chuckling as he saw the brown skin of your cheeks redden.

“I mean,” you paused to play fight with your boyfriend, batting his hand from your hair cutely, “You guys haven’t been wrong with anything you’ve introduced me to. If you think that I might enjoy something…I guess I can try it. And, you’ll stop if I tell you to, right?”

“Always, mon ange.” “Of course, liefje.”

“Okay, then. I just don’t think there’s a toy that I’ll like?”

A smirk spread across Max’s lips when he glanced over at Charles, like they knew something you didn’t. His blue eyes were alight with humor as they looked back at you, “Let us worry about that.”

You did such a good job of letting your boyfriends “worry about sex toys” that you ended up forgetting the conversation happened. Until tonight, when you walked into your bedroom to see Charles on the bed completely naked, save for—what appears to be, a pink silicone pad strapped around his tanned, muscular thigh.

You freeze in the doorway, mouth parted, struggling to process the sight in front of you. The brunette is ruined. His hair is damp with sweat, strands of curls stuck to his forehead, and green eyes moist with dried tear tracks painting the ruddiness of his cheeks. His lips are bitten red, swollen, and moist with his spit—Max’s too. The bruises start on his collarbone, deep red marks brush along his clavicle and pecs, and there are visible imprints of teeth around his right nipple. Traces of Max’s unforgiving grip are painted on his waist, thumbprints obvious to your eyes. His cock looks painful; burning red, twitching randomly, the vein on his underside raised, and precome has been leaking out of his tip for a while if the puddle by the base is any telling. 

Employing his skill for perfect timing, the en-suite door opens, and Max steps into the room with a bottle of lube in his hand. 

“Charlie?” Max coos, walking over to the delirious man, pouting sympathetically when the brunette’s head falls forward to rest on his hip, ruffling his hair and scratching along his scalp. “Aren’t you going to thank our pretty girl for putting an end to your torture?”

“–rci, merci,” the exhausted man mumbles messily. Max hums in content, dropping the lube on the bed and gesturing for you to come closer. Tripping over your feet in haste to follow his order, you ask softly, “How long have you had him like this?”

“Around forty-five minutes,” Max shrugs, dismissively, “He was getting too excited as we waited for you to join us.”

Swallowing shakily, you inquire, “Excited about what?

“Your new sex toy.” 

You gasp and Max’s eyes flutter across your face as he gages your reaction. Max sees you shift on your feet and casts look downward; your thighs are pressed together for friction—you’re aroused.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Yes, Max.”

The Dutchman smiles at you, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and leans forward to press a multitude of chaste kisses on your lips, laughing lowly when you whine with displeasure as he ignores your attempts to deepen them. “You’re being so brave for me. Take your clothes off, pretty girl.”

Bare in the blink of an eye, you look at your older boyfriend for his next direction.

“Our Charlie,” Max starts, helping the fucked-out man sit up straight, “Has been so kind to volunteer his thigh to you. Strapped around it,” he pauses to slap his hand down beneath the toy, smirking at Charles’ delayed yelp, and squeezing the meat of his muscle warmly, “Is a ridged silicone pad designed to simulate the vulva and clit as you grind. The waves and spikes of silicone are malleable and soft,” Max drags his finger across them demonstratively, “and are smooth and bouncy as you slide across it, allowing for a continuous rubbing sensation—I did my research.”

Giggling nervously as your eyes flicker between Charles’ cock and the daunting pink slab of plastic, “I can tell. Um—I just ride it like it’s his thigh?”

Max nods and offers you his hand for stability as you move to straddle the pad. Charles blinks, raising trembling hands to rest on your hips, staring at you with hazy eyes. You sigh, tangling your hand in the nape of his hair and using it to pull him forward into a kiss. His lips are clumsy but eager as they move against yours, whimpers muffled into your mouth and beard scratching along your chin. He tries to tug you downwards to have you firmly sit on the pad but is halted by Max.

“Greedy, both of you,” Max snorts, picking up the forgotten bottle of lube and uncapping it to lightly drizzle some on the toy's surface, “I know you get wetter than the ocean but, better safe than sorry.”

He pats you on the ass in encouragement, and you shake your head with shame as you lower yourself down on the silicone, draping your arms around Charles’ shoulders and pausing to acquaint yourself with the new feeling. The chill of the lube startles you but aside from that, the toy is…comfortable. The raised hump sits perfectly against the curvature of your cunt and already, you’re anticipating the focused stimulation it will provide. 

Max sits behind Charles and the bed sinks under his weight, barely jostling the Monegasque’s thigh. However, it’s enough of a movement that it causes one of the soft spikes to clip your clit, pushing a quiet noise of surprise from your lips.

“Oh,” you murmur airily.

Trying to hide the quirk of his lips, Max leans forward to whisper directly into Charles’ ear, “This seems awfully familiar to the first time she rode my thigh, no?”

You whimper audibly, knowing that he purposefully spoke loud enough for you to hear his words. Refusing to fixate on Charles’ reply, you circle your hips, breath catching as the various textures set your nerves ablaze. You understand that Max added the lube to prevent any unwanted roughness—it’s rendered unnecessary as your arousal starts to leak. Digging your nails into the younger man’s back, you rock your hips back and forth slowly, moaning freely as the waves are a consistent friction against your labia. 

“It’s–fuck—i-it’s good.”

“Stuttering already,” Max tuts, and you feel the heat in your cheeks radiate down to your bouncing chest. Your rhythm roughens; dragging yourself along the toys in desperation, toes curling at every random press of the spikes against your outer lips and clit. Charles gasps in relief, your quickened pace causing his cock to bounce and rub against his abdomen in his puddle of precome. He gets lucky on every few grinds when you undulate forwards and his cock bounces to glide against your navel. His hands grip firmly around your hips and shove them into a jerkier motion, keeping you close to him so his reddened length can be soothed against your skin constantly. 

The change in angle and position has caused the spikes to form a barrage around your clit and the waves drag over your entrance, teasing you with the feeling of being opened up. Dropping your head to hide your face in Charles’ neck, you muffle your pitchy moans and shrieks by tasting the sweat beading on his skin.

“I’m jealous, schatje,” Max speaks, “I almost want to pull her off of your thigh and have her sit on my face.”

Fresh tears spill from Charles’ eyes as he begs, “N-no-no—mmmph—please, ‘m close.”

Your hips start to rabbit against the toy, and the texture between your legs is overwhelming but too pleasurable to consider slowing. 

Max yanks Charles’ head backward with a fist in his hair, “Do you want to cum, Charlie?”

The man in question babbles incoherently, chest trembling from lack of oxygen as he continues to sob; he tries to nod, but can’t, thanks to Max’s firm grip. The burning of his scalp doesn’t subdue him, it encourages him to keep tugging so the pain floods endorphins through his body. 

“You know what to say,” Max states calmly, the words sending shivers down your spine. Your own body starts to tingle as you taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue; you’re too delighted at the new sensations to let any embarrassment build from reaching the edge quickly.

Charles struggles to get his tongue, lips, and vocal cords to cooperate. You see a frantic look light in his eyes, sure he’s trying to puzzle out what language he’s sane enough to communicate in. He manages to verbalize sounds that could be likened to Max’s name if you brush past his whimpers and cries.

“Plea–,” Charles tries to push the word out pitifully, “—ah, sss'il te pla—” his cock bumps against your navel, and his words cut off, eyes rolling back before he can finish begging.

A humorous laugh leaves Max; this is the easiest way Max has ever made the younger man lose his speech. He softens, and gives into the pillow prince, “You did so good, Charlie. You tried your hardest for me, yeah? You begged so prettily tonight, almost as pretty as you look. Such a good boy, Charles. You can cum.”

Strikingly, the approval works for both you and Charles. Twin cries of pleasure erupt as your orgasms blur your vision and burn through your muscles. The feeling of Charles’s cum splattering against your stomach sends another burst of light through your skin as you continue to grind fitfully on the silicone pad. A lake of wetness puddled on the poor man’s thigh, that squelches as you move. 

Charles is rendered silent as his cock continues to pulse even when the flow of his release ceases. Max brings his hand down to squeeze at his base and Charles releases a choppy scream as it pushes another couple of ribbons out of him. His hips thrust upwards with every string, forcing hisses of over sensitivity to slip from you as it drags the soaked pad against your cunt. You would happily crawl off his thigh, but you haven’t regained feeling in your legs yet. 

Thankfully, Charles deflates back into Max, his cock finally softening and slowly losing some of its flush. Tears start to leak from his eyes again, his chest shuddering through little sobs. You whimper softly at his tears and Max pulls you both to rest comfortably in the bed, as he shushes you two through the comedown. When the tears, shivers, and shakes halt, a pleased tilt of lips rises to Charles's face as his eyes dance between you and Max. 

The Dutchman unclips the toy from Charles’s thigh and smirks at the wet peeling noise that sounds.

“So…I assume this toy has your approval?”

© httpsserene2023

[yellowharrington]

wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 5k+ oops

warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

No one likes using dating apps.

Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.

This was Texas, after all.

Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”

No thanks.

It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.

You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting. 

Age range: 25-30

Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.

Age range: 35-45

Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel Miller does not use dating apps.

He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.

“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”

“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”

A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”

Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”

Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.

Paul, 41

Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.

You sighed deeply. Some things never change. 

After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.

Joel, 45

Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in. 

Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.

He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.

When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.

Joel has sent you a message.

Hey, darlin’. How are ya?

You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?

Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?

He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.

Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.

Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂

No good?

Not bad. 6/10. 

Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person. 

I would love to find out. 

You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.

Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.

He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.

There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.

I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.

Tomorrow, 7pm ok?

You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.

Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)

Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number. 

It’s Joel. This the right number?

Yup. You found me.

Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)

He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record. 

Joel was positively freaking out about this date.

Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.

Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?

His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.

“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”

“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”

He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”

“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.

“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.

“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.

“Nothing.“

“Are you going on a date?”

Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”

Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all. 

Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.

“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.

Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.

It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.

Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.

You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.

We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?

No worries if you did. I respect that.

You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?

You weren’t… completely against that.

Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)

Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.

His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.

You too, cowboy.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.

When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.

“Joel?”

Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.

“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”

“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.

“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.

“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”

“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.

You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you. 

“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip. 

He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.

“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.

“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.

“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.

“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”

You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”

“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”

You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him. 

“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”

It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.

You didn’t notice. 

A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.

“I’d love that.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?

“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.

“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.” 

You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.

“What about upstairs?”

Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.

“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar. 

You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.

“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold. 

You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.

You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.

When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.

“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.

It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.

Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.

“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.

He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him. 

His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.

Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.

“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.

His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face. 

When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.

“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.

He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.

He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.

“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.

“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.

“Yes, please, fill me up.”

You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.

The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.

He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.

He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.

“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.

A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.

“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”

You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.

“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”

You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss. 

You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.

“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head. 

In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”

[ms-demeanor]

making my own post because nobody needs my bullshit on their post:

OP:

Reblog 1:

Reblog 2:

My response:

The IRA blogs were here and they were active and they were quite popular; their posting patterns did not match normal tumblr users (i was followed by lagonegirl and followed back only to be put off by the account reblogging the same five or ten posts every hour for a day before selecting another five or ten posts to reblog hourly the next day - it was clear engagement bait).

Tumblr has never been as transparent about these accounts as both Twitter and Facebook were, but several of the accounts had shared names across platforms and you can find a significant amount of data that was released by both facebook (ex: ads purchased by the IRA accounts) and twitter (over three million tweets from IRA accounts). Academic researchers have published papers on the data released from facebook and twitter. Several papers. So many papers. Soooooo many papers. We have a LOT of direct evidence that you can explore for yourself that there were hundreds (possibly thousands) of IRA accounts that were created on Facebook and Twitter. Of those accounts, some shared usernames across platforms, and of those accounts, a few had tumblr accounts that posted the same content on twitter and tumblr.

To quote a buzzfeed news article from the time:

The Russian-run Tumblr accounts used the same, or very similar, usernames as the account names contained on a list of confirmed IRA accounts Twitter submitted to congressional investigators. In some cases, the Tumblr and Twitter account has the same profile image or linked to each other in their bios. Some IRA Tumblrs and Twitter accounts also cross-promoted content between platforms, further linking them together.

Current tumblr user @ alwaysbewoke (who I don't want to tag because I'm sure he's got better things to do) is interviewed in that article and talks about following one of the blogs identified by tumblr as an IRA blog that had a matching account on twitter identified as an IRA account but unfollowing when the left-leaning blog supposedly run by a black creator started rooting for trump in the election.

Dr. Jonathan Albright is heavily quoted in the article; the data review he collaborated on is one of the only reviews of this subject that includes data from Tumblr and Reddit.

One of the claims that I've seen is that tumblr just deleted funny black people, but these were blogs with thousands of followers on tumblr who never recreated, never popped up on another social media site, never started a reddit account after getting banned; nobody ever showed up saying "hey this is 4mysquad, I got banned on tumblr and twitter, follow me to pillowfort". These very popular blogs got deleted and, as far as I know, nobody ever popped up claiming to be a person who was deleted - and it's not like tumblr users haven't figured out how to evade bans.

What you are doing when you make posts saying that the IRA accounts on tumblr never existed is *absolving tumblr of guilt for their utter lack of transparency.*

Tumblr is not the only tech company that has tried to fly under the radar as its larger counterparts face regular scrutiny in Congress and in the press. Earlier this month, Reddit revealed it too had deleted hundreds of accounts with ties to the Internet Research Agency. A WIRED investigation found more than a thousand links to Russian propaganda websites are still live on Reddit, and unearthed two suspicious accounts that Reddit immediately shut down.

So should you believe what Tumblr says? No, because Tumblr has been functionally fucking silent on this issue and the information about this subject aside from the list of blogs has come from the hard work of data scientists, journalists, and researchers.

(For the record; some of those bot accounts that were recorded by Dr. Albright also had Google+ accounts in 2017 - there is every possibility that they had myspace accounts).

Now, the reason that I'm popping onto this post as an annoyed anarchist is that I was tracking a similar group of blogs for a while and was discussing them and I stopped precisely because of the galaxy-brained liberals who are now trying to dunk on communists for criticizing electoralism. One of the people who was following my project was one of the ones who started calling out the "joe biden kills dogs" posts as disinfo and I realized they were using some of the guidelines I'd written up to "identify" misinformation and that is very a rock fucking stupid approach to what was clearly a leftist making jokes and was horrified and realized there was no way that I could continue documenting what I was documenting without someone attempting to call actual leftists russian bots.

I've seen the post that OP is referencing [it's one where someone makes a very obvious joke about the democrat presidential ticket and people jump on to call them a bot and then someone tries to do the "AI tell me a story" thing and OP is just like "I don't want to :(", proving that they are in fact a person and not an AI] and have deeply enjoyed the humor of watching liberals a) not understand a very, VERY obvious joke and b) become the unwitting butt of a joke they were trying to make, but also I am so exhausted by watching normie dems call leftists AI bots after years of watching normie dems call real live actual leftists who hold actual political views that real people actually have, like prison abolition, russian bots.

But I am also so fucking tired of left conspiracism and how stupid it sounds when leftists dismiss a preponderance of evidence that is easily accessible and publicly available for analysis as "lol so you just trust everything tumblr tells you?"

No, dipshit, learn to click a fucking link or twelve.

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

dbf!hotch taking his stress out on the reader after a rough case

Stress Relief

Warnings: Smut, pwp, unprotected p in v sex, brief vaginal fingering, brief oral (fem receiving), basically just a quickie with Aaron, age gap (both adults), dbf!hotch, roughish sex, pet names (princess, sweet girl, sweetheart), I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1k

Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader

A/n: YESssssss!!!!! Rough case results in rougher sex ;) I don't make the rules 🤷.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

If yours is crossed out, it won't let me tag you.

This post is NSFW minors please DNI****

Aaron called you as soon as he was home from his most recent case. This had become a normal occurrence and you'd come to long for the moment his call would come through. He would often let you massage his neck, shoulders, and back after he would bathe. He would share sweet soft kisses with you and probably get around to taking you at some point, but it wasn't always the first thing he would do.

This time though, he had phoned you and as soon as you walked through the door, he was pinning you up against it and nibbling at your neck and earlobe. Now he is grinding his hips into yours and he's grunting and groaning into your ear.

"Fuck, I missed you, sweet girl. Missed you so much." Aaron mumbles against your neck and you can't help but arch into him. He slips his arms around you. "Mm...Missed you too, Aaron." You whisper in a breathy voice. You're both panting and needy and he can't take it any longer. He strips you down to nothing and he keeps his hold on your hips as he kneels down between your thighs.

He does it just to get a quick taste and to help in prepping you to take him. He easily slides two fingers into your leaking cunt and his tongue circles your clit as his right hand helps to steady you. It doesn't take much to get you ready for him, it's been so long and you've missed him so much. You've needed him and your body is showing it.

Aaron pulls away from your core and he stands again, removing his belt and pulling his slacks and underwear down just enough to get his length out. He strokes himself a few times and presses his body up against yours, pinning you to the door once again in the process.

He presses his tip to your entrance and pushes into you completely in one swift motion. You gasp and arch into him again at the sudden, but welcome intrusion. He groans and starts moving almost immediately. His thrusts are fast and hard from the very beginning. Aaron moves one hand behind your thigh and lifts it up for you to wrap it around him. It gives him more access and allows him to go even deeper inside of you.

All he can hear are your loud moans in his ear as he helps you stay upright and it's like music to his ears after a week without you in the same way that his sounds are to you. You told him in the beginning of this relationship that you wanted him to make noise, you wanted him to let out his sounds instead of keeping them in. You made Aaron feel like he could really let go and have fun during sex. He felt like he could finally be himself and explore things he couldn't before.

He can feel how hard it is for you to stay up as you lean into him. You're thankful for the support of him and the door behind you. "Come on, princess. Cum for me." He all but growls into your ear and you shiver. He makes his thrusts even harder and deeper now, making you moan and you nearly throw your head back into the door, but you refrain so you don't get a headache later.

You reach down and rub your clit yourself because Aaron's hands are a little preoccupied with keeping you steady. It doesn't take much, a few flicks of your finger and Aaron whispering the dirty things he is planning on doing to you later, and you're clenching and fluttering around his cock as he fucks you through your high. Your other hand claws at his suit and eventually grips it as you ground yourself after your orgasm subsides.

Aaron never lets up on his pace and force. You tangle one hand in his hair and your other arm moves to wrap around the back of his neck. You bury your face in his neck and let out some of the loudest moans you think you ever have. They sound almost pornographic and Aaron feels a sense of pride in being the reason for it.

Your wet heat continues to envelope his cock and you know you'll be sore in the days to come, but you would gladly feel that discomfort when you're feeling so good now and you know he will take care of you after he gets the release he has been craving for what feels like far too long. He pounds into you over and over, thinking about how he'll take you later in his bed, how he'll taste your arousal and his release as he eats you out until he's satisfied you both. It's that thought of how he'll get to taste the two of you mixed together later that sends him over the edge now and he fills you up, his hips stuttering as his own high takes over.

You feel the warmth spreading through you and it causes you to clench around him tighter than before. Aaron moans and grunts in your ear again before pulling out. You're both panting and trying to catch your breath. He's sweating and you know he must be uncomfortably hot in that dark grey suit that you can't wait to get him out of.

You are wobbly, not uncommon after you're with Aaron, but he continues to help you stay upright. It takes you a couple of minutes before you can say anything.

"Aaron, that was amazing. We need to do that more often. I like you taking your frustration out on me." You manage to get out between heavy breaths. He chuckles a little and kisses the side of your head. "Sweetheart, I'm not even close to being done with you yet. It'll happen very often tonight." And with that, you're already getting worked up at the thought of what's to come next.

[prettyoatmeal]

Warning!! NSFW, Fem reader, Dubcon. A/N: Posts gonna slow down again. I had a bit of a period where I couldn't stop just posting my thoughts. I'm burned out now from that LOL Masterlist here!

Horndog König. Need I say more?

When you come into his life he's just astounded. He's just thinking like.. what, a girl likes me? ...Wow! A girl likes me :D and then his libido just shoots through the roof because he isn't fucking for a one night stand anymore, but because you love him and he loves you.

He finds himself gets turned on by anything and everything because he can't stop his perverted brain.

Whether it be eating a banana or rubbing lotion along body after a shower, quite literally anything you do could get him turned on because he just can't control his mind.

Showering together always ends up with him exploring your body. You're just so pretty and soft compared to him. He loves to grab at your hips, your waist, your tummy, all over your torso. When he finally lets you wash yourself, his cock is up and twitching as you lather the bubbly soap onto yourself.

Cuddling in bed with him will end with him humping you from behind. He'll wrap his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him, and then he ruins the moment by feeling his cock hardening from your ass just slightly press back against him. He'll whimper and whine into your neck as he dry humps into your ass, his cock twitching and drenching his trousers as he reaches his orgasm.

"Please, please, please, Schazt. Need more. Mmgh.."

Thing is that you don't even need to be there physically. There have been numerous times where you'd caught him humping your pillow, his face buried into your blankets as he cries and moans into them before making a mess of his cum.

He can't just cum once either, it's as if he's under the effects of sex pollen.

He doesn't care if his cock is overly sensitive from filling you so many times, just once more. You'll give him one more, right? Of course you will.

He'll start sobbing into you neck as he puts you into a mating press and ruts into you. His cum is spilling from you despite how much he tries to push it back in, your thighs are trembling and shaking as he abuses your poor cunny. But the way you clench around him and suck him back in.. oh boy.

The way you moan and tell him how good he's making you feel turns his brain to mush. Your praise will always get him over the edge, he loves hearing how good his cock makes you feel. His hips will stutter and slow for the first time in hours, spilling himself one last time, and both of you are trying to catch your breaths, fucked out and satisfied.

[hotnbloodied]

Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?

Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.

Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.

Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.

The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.

He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.

You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.

“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.

After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.

[reiderwriter]

hi! I just wanted to say I think your writing is so good and you seem like a lovely person 🥰 I’m hoping to request a post prison Spencer smut. Basically it’s when he’s just been released and he’s so touch starved and possessive over you? I’m such a sucker for prison Reid I can’t 😅

A/N: Nothing hotter than a man who looks like he has been through hell, and dear GOD, is post-Prison Spencer DELECTABLE. Thank you for your request!

Warnings: 18+, minors dni. Penetrative sex, creampie, slight dom/sub themes, use of pet names, spoilers for s12 of Criminal Minds, mentions of prison, mentions of blood/ wounds and injuries sustained in prison.

The seconds ticked down as you waited for the key to be pushed into the lock, the door to swing open and for your life to be put back together. 84 days and you were on edge, almost three months without him.

Your leg shook as you waited, heard the footsteps coming up the hall. You stood, wiping the sweat off your hands and taking a deep breath.

You hadn't been allowed to visit Spencer in prison, his teammates taking priority as they worked to keep him safe, to get him out. You hadn't seen him in three months, though you'd moved yourself into his house to be able to wrap yourself in his scent, haunt yourself with his presence.

He wasn't a ghost anymore, as he opened the door and you found your eyes on Spencer Reid for the first time in too long.

“Spencer,” you voice was pathetically small, as if you didn't trust him to be real anymore. You supposed that was probably justified. Your entire body was on edge as you looked him up and down.

Before, he'd keep himself clean shaved, but you found yourself greatly appreciative of the stubble framing his face. He'd never been the best at taking care of his hair, and now it looked perfectly ready for you to run your hands through. His clothes were still messy and by god did you want to grab the lapels of his jacket and pull him back into you.

“You're still here,” his voice was nearly as weak as your own, as if he'd not used it for nearly as much as it should've been used. “I know they said you were but… god I'm so happy you're still here.”

He took a step closer to you and pulled you towards him. You weren't used to Spencer initiating physical contact like this, his hands strong and certain on your hips as he grabbed you, one hand coming up to the back of your head to cradle it and push you further into him.

You melted into the touch, finally feeling warm after the coldest spring of your life.

“You can't get rid of me that easily, Spencer.”

“Good,” he said, tilting your head up and not hesitating even one beat before he pushed his lips against yours. His grip was hot as you let out a soft moan into his mouth, taken aback by his sudden affection.

Before prison, you'd been quietly intimate. A soft kiss here and there, and some awkward and tender sex. While you didn't mind your earlier boundaries, you certainly weren't mourning them now, gripping his shirt tighter as his tongue began exploring you. You'd been happy just to be in his presence before, but now you needed to be so close that you could no longer find where his body stopped and yours started.

When you lifted your leg, he instantly took your hint and pulled you up, holding you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Not breaking from your kiss for longer than a breath, he dropped everything to carry you back to the bedroom.

“84 days.” You gasped between kisses as he dropped you on the bed, falling down with you as he moved his attention to your neck, your chest, your bared throat.

A growl was all the reply he had to that, knowing instantly what you were talking about, but needing to feel you more, to pull comfort from the warmth of your body.

“84 days and I thought with each of them that I would never do it again. You're never leaving me again, I wouldn't survive. I'd refuse.”

“84 days, 7 hours, 23 minutes. Every lone moment thinking about this and you, and being here again,” he said, pulling back again to stare directly at your bared soul.

“I need to feel you now, Y/N. Please, be a good girl and let me.”

If you could will your own clothes away, you would've at that moment, already aware of the mounting pleasure pooling between your legs.

Instead, Spencer handled it for you, tearing where he couldn't unbutton fast enough, divesting you of shirt and skirt and beginning to work your underwear slowly down your legs. At the same time, you pushed yourself up, scrambling to unbutton his own shirt, moaning in frustration as you struggled to get it pushed off his shoulders.

“Spencer, clothes off, now,” you begged, and he finally paused for a second.

“I'm different. Not a lot, but there are some…wounds. Don't be alarmed.”

“Spencer, if you think a few cuts and bruises are going to dampen the absolute desire I have burning for you, you are dumber than I thought.” Taking his momentary surprise to your advantage, you pushed him up and straddled his lap, sitting together with him as you rid him of his clothes.

You traced hands over every ridge of his skin, trying to document every change and appreciate every line. Tracing your way downward, you let your hand disappear into his lap as you looked up at him again, catching his eye as your fingers unbuttoned his pants.

His hand stroked lazily across your cunt but his eyes locked with yours and you found yourself aching with a need for him.

Before, he'd been thorough about foreplay, making sure you were absolutely ready for him, ensuring your pleasure and bringing you to climax before he even palmed himself through his pants.

It was generous, and everything you didn't want right now. You needed him to get everything he'd missed, needed to see him relaxed, pleasured, sunk deep inside of you and losing himself with each stroke.

You softly pressed a kiss to his lips, releasing him from his pants. A few strokes was enough to have him at full mast, and in another moment you were pushing yourself up on your knees and sinking back down.

Three months and you'd almost forgotten how perfectly he filled you, steadying yourself with hands on his shoulders as you bit back a whorish moan.

“Good girl, just like I remember…” his words came out slurred, as of he were drunk on the feeling of you, intoxicated as you began rocking your hips up and down his length.

“I'm better than you remembered,” you mumbled, stroking the small soft curls at the base of his neck. It was ridiculous being jealous of your past self, but god did you want to grab the you of January and shake her within an inch of her life.

You'd tell her to grab Spencer Reid and never let him go, to make him spend his entire life filling you up, to pleasure him until he hadn't a single thought of going anywhere.

You kept up your pace, riding him at an even pace, making sure to lower yourself down as far as you could manage without becoming a moaning mess, but soon the pleasure became overwhelming.

Spencer kept one hand working over your clit, and you had to resist falling apart in his hands, determined to pleasure him before you thought of taking that same ecstasy for yourself.

“It's okay, Y/N, you can let go. I know how long you've waited for this,” his words were soft but his tone was demanding, ordering you to cum on his cock. He lifted his hips slightly, grabbing your hips in his hand as he took charge of the pace and strength of your thrusts, going harder and faster than you'd been able to manage.

You loathed to give up control, bit your body betrayed you, thighs shaking as you gave into his wishes, cumt clenching around him as you rode out your orgasm.

“That's it, nice and tight for me.” He grunted the words into your ear as he really took control. Tipping you until you were again flat on your back, he lifted his hips up and let his pace speed up, rutting into you deeply as he breathed in your scent, head buried in your hair, arms tight around your waist.

You moaned for him, knowing he loved every sound that passed your lips, knowing that he craved the knowledge of your pleasure.

He, too, didn't hold back. His voice filled your ear, filling your brain with every fantasy, every memory of you that had kept him alive for 84 days of hell.

Each story was lustier than the last, your mouth dropping open in a moan as you, too, imagined him in each of the scenarios he'd spent time on in prison.

You across his desk, his head between your legs in the morning, you in his cell, him inside you in public, the red scratches your nails dragged against his skin that had been commented on in the showers.

You'd guided his through 84 days of hell, and you were finally embracing him on the other side.

“Y/N, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna- shit.”

To your surprise, he didn't pull out as he usually would, but instead slammed himself deeper as he began releasing string after string of his sperm into you.

“Shit. I'm sorry I should've asked if that was…”

“I don't care. Just next time, make sure you do that again.” The feeling of his cum inside you was enough to push your body over the edge once again, and you panted as the aftershocks continued milking his cock.

“I missed you.” He whispered, pushing a few stray hairs behind your ear as he stared at you with all the love in the world.

“I missed you more.” You whispered back, and you meant it.

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist! (Updated Oct. 24. 2024.)

Here you'll find all my fanfiction in one place, where I explore characters, relationships, and the worlds they live in. Whether it's diving deep into emotional conflicts or adding new layers to the stories we love, my writing is all about giving you fresh perspectives and heartfelt moments. Whether you're here for angst, fluff, or something a bit more steamy, there's a story waiting for you.

I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I’ve loved creating them! Feel free to browse through the links below, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you’d like to chat about the stories or characters.

✨ Happy reading! ✨

REQUESTS ARE TEMPORARILY CLOSED

I am starting a new job starting on December 2nd (yay!) and have a full list of 23 requests to work through, I’ll be temporarily closing requests starting today (November 20).

This will give me the chance to: ✨ Focus on fulfilling the requests I’ve already received. ✨ Dedicate time to my WIPs that are long overdue. ✨ Adjust to my new role and navigate the busy holiday season.

I’m planning to reopen requests in about a month—likely after the holidays, once I’ve had time to settle into my new schedule. Of course, I’ll keep everyone updated here when I’m ready to take on more ideas!

** This blog is intended for readers 18+. Minors DO NOT INTERACT. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given on any writing that needs it**

KINKTOBER 2024

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

This was my wild dive into the spicy world of Kinktober! Throughout October, I challenged myself to post a new piece every day, each one exploring different kinks and themes with a mix of heat and heart. Whether you're here for the steam, the characters, or just a fun escape, I hope you find something to enjoy. Each story pushes boundaries in its own way, so please read the tags and warnings before diving in. Enjoy the journey, and thanks for checking out my Kinktober 2024 collection! 🔥

GLEN POWELL

Glen Powell (and His Characters) Masterlist

Whether it’s Glen Powell himself or the unforgettable roles he brings to life, this section is dedicated to all things Glen.

From standalone one-shots to multi-part series, you’ll find stories exploring the charm of Glen as an actor and the personalities of his iconic characters, like Jake Seresin from Top Gun: Maverick and Tyler Owens from Twisters.

Whether you're in the mood for quick reads or something a little more in-depth, there's plenty here to dive into. Enjoy the journey, and feel free to leave your thoughts! 🤠

TWISTERS

Twisters Masterlist

Welcome to my collection of stories inspired by Twisters! Right now, the focus is on Tyler Owens, one of the main characters who’s brought to life in ways that explore his depth, relationships, and adventures beyond the screen.

As this section grows, you might see stories featuring other characters like Scott Miller and Javi Rivera—so stay tuned! Whether you're here for Tyler or curious about future tales, I hope you enjoy these stormy stories. 🌪️

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

This list is all about the thrill and tension of Top Gun: Maverick. Most of my writing here dives into the cocky charm of Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but you’ll also find some pieces centered around Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, with more stories potentially featuring characters like Robert "Bob" Floyd in the future.

Whether you're into Hangman’s swagger, Rooster’s heart, or curious about the rest of the Top Gun crew, there’s something for every fan of the high-flying action and drama. Strap in and enjoy the ride! ✈️

WRESTLING

WWE & Professional Wrestling

Step into the ring with my collection of professional wrestling stories! Most of my writing here is centered around the superstars of WWE, but you'll also find a few pieces featuring wrestlers from other promotions.

Whether you're a fan of the drama, athleticism, or the larger-than-life personalities in the squared circle, there’s something here for you. From intense rivalries to behind-the-scenes moments, I hope you enjoy these tales of wrestling’s finest. 💥

[citrus-moonlight]

As I often do, I've seen a few posts going around lately lamenting the lack of interaction with fanfiction/fanart here on Tumblr as well as AO3, but after reading a particular comment last night I just need to say this:

If someone tells you that the lack of response to sharing their writing is making them feel so upset that they're thinking of quitting writing altogether, don't tell them that's not a good mindset to have and they should just have fun with it and write for themselves. (have you just tried not being sad? you'll feel so much better!)

Even if you're a writer who felt that way once upon a time but then you changed your mindset so that you don't rely on others' feedback for validation and now you're so much happier, that's not helpful. Because that's obviously not what the person who is feeling sad and defeated is able to do right now, and for most writers/creators that's never going to be possible.

And it shouldn't have to be.

Especially here. Especially fanfiction.

Fanfiction is something that's created because someone loves something and wants to share it with others who love the same thing. And this is specifically a fandom space, somewhere that is supposed to be a community where discussion and dialogue can and is encouraged to happen between the people who write and the people who read. So when there's radio silence when you share something in this kind of space, do you really not see how that would be discouraging?

Because of course I write for myself - I would never get anything down on the page if I didn't - but I share because ultimately I want someone else out there to read what I wrote, and with any luck, to get some joy out of it. But if no one tells me they did, how am I supposed to know? As far as I know I've just been yelling into the void. As far as I know, all that work wasn't worth it.

A metaphor I've seen as an example is that it would be like having someone invite you over and cooking an entire delicious, heartfelt meal, you eat it all without saying anything, and then just leave. Do you not see how that would be upsetting?

We put so much of ourselves into what we write, bits of our hearts and souls and the things that we love and are exploring and are interested in or confused about. It's such a vulnerable thing to share something you've created, so when you tell someone that they shouldn't care if someone else reads what they wrote or tells them that they liked it, you're dismissing a very real and valid experience for so many creators out there.

Because regardless of how slow or fast a writer is, or how big or small their fandom is, it's still hard and takes time and energy and dedication and love - all of it in between our day to day lives from the mundanities to the heartbreaks - to even get something to the point where we're comfortable sharing.

Now, I know that not everyone thinks that writers are silly or selfish or entitled when they ask for feedback. Before I started writing again after many, many years, the main reason I didn't really comment on fics very often wasn't because I didn't think that the authors deserved feedback, it was more that I didn't really think that it would matter. That my comments would just be noted - if read at all - and brushed aside and then they would continue on about their day.

I could not have possible been more wrong. You might think you're just one person and it's just one comment but it's amazing how it can turn a day (or week, or month) around. How it can encourage someone to finish a story, or make a connection they'd been struggling with, or even just manage to add 500 words to a WIP. It is truly incredible to hear that someone loved something I wrote, and if you've ever commented on or reblogged one of my fics, please know that it truly means the world to me.

I've gone through a rough time with all of this lately myself, but I'm doing a bit better now (for the moment), so I just wanted to say this, in part to remind myself when it inevitably gets hard again:

If you're reading this, whether you're a friend or you've never seen me on your dash and never will again: I'm sorry it hurts right now. I'm sorry you feel discouraged and lonely, that it doesn't feel like it's worth it anymore, that you're struggling to find a reason to continue.

But I desperately hope that you keep writing. I hope you keep sharing. You're worth it. I know it's hard, and if you don't want to and you're just tired of the cycle of giving so much of yourself and getting so little in return, I understand that, too. It's ok to be in your feelings about it, it's ok to feel drained by it, and even though knowing you're not alone in your experience doesn't change anything and it still sucks, it's normal and valid and there's nothing wrong with you feeling the way that you do.

But I hope that you are able to find the joy in it again, because you deserve it. ❤️

[wardenparker]

For Her

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10k Warnings: Cursing, food, panic attack, references to unplanned pregnancy, past pregnancy, mentions of Sarah, general post-outbreak mood. Summary: Low on supplies and needing rest, Joel and Ellie stop in a colony he has heard about to restock on their journey west, but Joel finds far more than be bargained for within the city walls. Notes: We are so, so excited to debut our first Joel fic! We’ve been looking forward to this for ages and can’t wait to explore with the character some more!

There aren't many things that are better now than they used to be. Most comforts are gone and there hasn't been any such thing as safety in twenty years, but Lake Erie is more beautiful than ever and sunrises over the water do have a certain amount of appeal that they lacked before now. You had come here on camping trips with your family as a kid and can't remember it ever being this pretty. Not that sunrise is typically your favourite time of day, but the little bundle wrapped in blankets in your arms seems to love it, and she coos happily now at the rising pinks and oranges in the sky while she wiggles her little fist in the air. Everything is better now that she's here, and you press a kiss to her coffee-brown curls. The rest of the world may be in shambles, but you're going to keep this little bundle safe and sound.

******

Joel's eyes are wary, watchful as he looks around. The rifle in his hand lowered, but still ready to lift and fire, the safety switched off and his finger on the trigger guard. "How much we got?" He demands, peeling his eyes away from the surroundings to glance down at Ellie where she has the supplies scattered out, taking count after a bag had been lost during the last run in with a group of clickers.

"Not much." Ellie frowns at the spread, realizing that the pack they'd lost was the one with most of their food. "We have a couple of days here, at best."

"Shit." Joel hisses, tapping his hand on the guard as he thinks. Trying to decide the best course of action. "Gimme the map." He huffs after a second, holding his hand out so he can look at it.

"Here." Joel's map is marked out in codes and colors that Ellie still hasn't figured out yet, but she's been trying ever since they left Boston. She hands over the map now and starts repacking their supplies. "We just crossed the border into Pennsylvania."

"No shit we crossed the border into Pennsylvania." Joel grumbles at her, aware that the moss covered sign they had passed thirty minutes ago proudly proclaimed them to be inside the boarders of the old state. He shuffles the rifle onto his back and starts studying the map, trying to remember where she had told him there was a colony the last time he left the Boston QZ.

"Cranky." Ellie rolls her eyes as she ties up the drawstring on the bag and shoves it into her backpack.

"Shut up." He grunts, running his finger along the road that the two of them are on. Tracing it up to a small town on the edge of Lake Erie. "Lake City." He taps the map as he remembers her smile as she talked about it, making it seem like it was a haven. "I know a place." He decides, folding the map back up and holding it out to the girl. "They should have supplies."

"A lake?" That perks Ellie up, and thoughts of an actual bath in the fresh water and clean clothes are suddenly at the forefront of her mind. "Fuck it. Let's go."

She hikes her pack up higher on her back and steps past him like she's eager to get there. Making him look after her for a moment before he huffs in amusement and starts to follow. "Hey kid, wait up." He orders, not wanting her to get too far ahead of him.

"You got longer legs than me, old man." She throws the taunt behind her with a smirk, not bothering to turn around and look at Joel. "Catch up."

******

It takes nearly three days to get to Lake City. Joel had to keep the girl in a warehouse for an extra six hours when a group of clickers had come by, huddled down and silent as they wandered through. His finger on the trigger and his body in front of her to protect her if necessary. By the time the tall, cobbled together walls come into view, he can barely see twenty feet in front of his own face. It would have been better to have found a place to bunk down for the night, but the supplies were gone and the girl's stomach had been growling for hours.

The watch lights on the catwalk at the top of the walls outside Lake City aren't exactly anything fancy. There's no FEDRA presence here and therefore no Fireflies. No one waving their gun around or murmuring codes around alley corners. The community of Lake City takes care of itself - self-sufficient and self-supporting in every way they can manage from crops and farming to security and back again. There are two people on the catwalk tonight, carrying two of the only guns in the colony to make sure that no clickers come near the gates. They aren't expecting to see anything, and are chatting between themselves about some gossip or other when one of them stands straight up and points the barrel of his rifle down at the two figures approaching the gate. They don't have the movement patterns of any clickers he's seen, but no one takes chances anymore. "STOP!"

"We're alive!" Joel calls out, lifting one hand up and holding the rifle securely with the other as the two of them slowly approach the light. Squinting at the spotlight that is aimed towards them and he moves his hand to shield his eyes from most of the harsh light.

"I can see that." The voice calls out from the top of the wall. "Put down your gun and stay where you are!" The other figure on top of the wall moves out of sight, presumably to come down and inspect the new arrivals.

"I ain't dropping my gun." Joel calls back, not willing to unarm himself. "Not a chance."

"Hold it out. Finger off the trigger. Stay where you are." The voice from the wall instructs. Down below, the much smaller city door swings open, revealing a smaller figure clad in mismatched armor with a gun directed at the new arrivals. "Stand down." The smaller figure orders from behind their helmet.

Joel holds the rifle out, finger lifted into the air but his eyes are watchful, making sure that no one makes a sudden move. He doesn't trust anyone.

It's not until the figure gets closer that they stop, standing stark still in the open field in front of the gates. They don't speak and Ellie keeps herself from fidgeting. She just keeps her eyes moving between Joel and the person in armor until they nod and turn back to the wall. "Let them in!" The figure calls, without testing or checking or finding out anything.

Your eyes widen when you recognize Joel, grateful for the visor that keeps him from seeing your face and potentially recognizing you as well. Although maybe he wouldn't even remember you, you don't know. It was one night well over a year ago, when you were coming down through what used to be New England and ran into him on the road. The idea of sharing supplies and safety in numbers for one night had ended up with the two of you tearing each other’s clothes off and spending all your frustrations in passion. A night that has ended up being far more consequential for you than it ever could be for him.

Joel frowns, standing straight and immediately moving towards Ellie. The protective stance easy for anyone to see as he eyes them. It's unusual that anyone would let people into their colony without questions or testing. Even without the FEDRA influence. "Thank you." He nods towards the figure who is seemingly giving the orders. "We're just passin' through. Need supplies."

“When was the last time she ate?” Deflecting more than slightly, you nod toward the girl, wondering if she’s his. If you aren’t the first woman that had a night with him and ended up living with the consequences.

"Yesterday." Joel answers, making Ellie cut her eyes up at him.

"She can answer for herself." She blows out and looks back at the figure dressed in tactical gear. "Yesterday." She repeats without a hint of irony.

"Then we'll get you something to eat." You nod back to the gate and start walking, knowing that no one left in the world would be dumb enough not to follow. There's shelter, food, and safety on offer for them inside the colony walls. It's literally what they came here for.

Joel looks at Ellie, nodding towards the figure that is retreating. "Well?" He huffs, "better follow." He readjusts his rifle and starts out after the gear covered leader, frowning slightly as he watches their gait. Something seems familiar about it, although he doubts he will run into you here. You had told him that you were planning on going west.

"This place is weird," Ellie mutters, though she follows at the promise of food. "No test and no interrogation? Weird." Inside the gates, the third member of night watch usually doesn't do much. They're there for support, and to keep the rotation going so the people on top of the wall are always alert. Tonight, though, he looks completely appalled that you're opening the gates for new arrivals. "They need food," you tell him, keeping your helmet and visor in place so no one can see how poorly you're dealing with him appearing out of nowhere. "And someplace to sleep. They'll be gone again in no time."

"Keep your eyes open." Joel watches the person's back warily and cuts his eyes around. "Stick by my side. I don't know what's going on, but I don't trust 'em." If this place is half as lax with security as they seem, it's a wonder that it's still standing. Although it seems a lot cleaner than the FEDRA Boston QZ. Hard to see in the dark, but he imagines it's as picturesque as you had described it.

"Shiiit." On the other side of the gate, Ellie stays at Joel's elbow as they follow the guard through to another room. An empty table and a few chairs standby but not much else, and they stand apart from the furniture when you turn to nod to them. "Someone will bring you food and show you where you can sleep. And they'll lock the gates behind you when you leave tomorrow." You have no expectation that he'll stay here, and even though you had dreamt plenty of times of this man coming to find you - and all the tenderness that that might bring with it - you aren't going to say a word. Not when you have your own secret.

"That's it?" Joel shifts slightly, eyes narrowing as he glances around the room suspiciously. "You're just gonna...let us stay?" His tone is disbelieving and it should be, nothing is free in this world since the Outbreak day. "What's really goin' on here?"

Your head drops a little, and you hate him for being so cautious that he can’t just accept the proverbial gift horse he’s being given. “You want to be turned away? Kicked out for asking questions? Fine.” You point to the door. “Get out.”

Joel doesn't move, just stands there watching. Rocking his jaw for a second before he purses his lips. "Lift your visor." He demands, his gut telling him that he knows why he was just let in. "Show me your face."

You could say no. It would be easy. Two letters. One syllable. But you hesitate. “Put down the gun,” you bargain instead. At the very least you don’t want him blowing you away the second he’s confronted with his past.

Instead of putting it down, he takes his finger off the guard, simply holding it by the pistol grip and he lowers it towards the ground in a relaxed position. "As good as it's gonna get." He tells you simply.

It draws another sigh from your lips, but since the Joel you knew was as thorough a son of a bitch in every way as you had ever met, you know he won’t let it go. If you try to retreat he’ll just follow you and pull the helmet right off your head. “I’m not looking for trouble,” you tell him honestly, but pull up the visor on your helmet with two fingers anyway.

Joel's slight scowl immediately softens into a mixture of confusion and satisfaction at being right. Your name comes off his lips in a soft whisper as he takes half a step back in surprise. "You're— you were supposed to be going west." He mumbles, looking you up and down as if what you were wearing would tell him the story of the last year.

Astonished but quietly glad that he actually remembers you, you shrug your shoulders as nonchalantly as humanly possible and take your helmet clean off. No use hiding now. “Circumstances change.” Motioning to the girl beside him, you try not to look to curious or affected by it at all. If he had a wife that he was stepping out in, you don’t want to make waves. “For you, too.”

"Who, her? Joel points at Ellie and shakes his head. "No, she's cargo." He huffs, not wanting you to believe that this girl is his. "Transporting her." He doesn't want to admit it, but you look good, softer - even with the harsh tactical gear.

“Well…I’m sure you’re not aching to rehash old times.” Although now that he’s seen your face, you have to admit that you are. “I’ll go get your food.”

"Wait." Joel steps forward almost instinctively, not wanting you to leave right away. He's wondered about you since that night, no matter how he's tried to just forget about it. Wondering if you had gone west like you planned and he wonders what had kept you here.

"Well, that's interesting." Ellie huffs, making him turn around and glare at her.

"Unless you need to go." Joel adds, feeling foolish.

“I’ll see if Zach can take over on the catwalk for me.” As much as you’re trying to guard yourself, you do want to talk to him again. You’ve literally dreamt of seeing him. Of a night or day just like this when he would come walking up to the colony gates looking for you. Except he wasn’t actually looking for you. He’s just hungry and transporting some teenager. “Sit with you for a little?”

Joel nods, slightly relieved that you aren't just walking away. "Yeah." He rasps out. "That'll be good." You turn around and walk away, leaving him with a smug Ellie, smirking at him like she knows something he doesn't. "What?" He demands harshly, sending her a glare that would make other men piss themselves but she just smirks harder.

“Who’s your pretty lady friend?” Ellie snickers, enjoying the hell out of Joel’s discomfort. He doesn’t show his cards often, but she loves it when he does.

"None of your fuckin' business." He grumbles, relaxing a bit now that he knows you're here. He sets the rifle down and shuffles the back off his back, relishing the relief from the weight. "I don't ask you about your life."

“It means something,” she argues, taking his relaxation as a signal that it’s safe to plop down in one of the folding chairs at the table that takes up most of the room. “You’ve fucking slept with your finger on the trigger. Now she’s here and you’re all trusting? It’s worth asking questions about.”

"It means I've met her before." Joel counters, shucking his jacket and rolling it up to tie to his pack. He wishes he had known you were here. He would have tried - well, there was nothing he could have done if he had known. It wasn't like he was going to pick you flowers and bring them to you like a beau coming to court you. You had one unforgettable night and for all he knows, you've got someone in your life.

“Yeah,” Ellie laughs. “From old times.”

"Aren't you like 13?" He rolls his eyes and pulls out a chair to sit down, groaning slightly at how good it feels on his back. "A year is old times to you, kiddo." It's shocking sometimes how much she can remind him of Sarah. The sass is a little sharper, but the smart mouth of the teenager has made him snort several times when she wasn't paying attention.

“So you knew her a year ago?” Ellie has been quick to pick up on his dropped facts, realizing he does it when something scratches at a particular thought or memory.

Joel narrows his eyes at her in warning but she just raises her brow at him. "Last time I was outside the walls." He admits, reaching up and rubbing his jaw with his hand. "She told me about this place."

“So she’s why we’re here?” Interesting that Joel actually listened to someone long enough to even absorb what they were saying. He’s not exactly chatty.

"No." Joel shakes his head, looking around the room. "We're here for the four-star accommodations." He jokes, knowing the girl doesn't have a clue what he is talking about.

“And for dinner.” Appearing in the doorway with three bowls of soup, some bread, and glasses of clean water, you carefully balance the tray until you can get close enough to the table to set it down. Luckily you’ve been in and out of this room enough times that you know exactly how many steps it takes to get from the door to the table. Six.

Joel leans forward and takes one of the glasses of water but he doesn't touch the soup or the bread. He trusts you, but that's not why he isn't eating. Instead he moves a bowl and a large portion of the food in front of the kid and nods to her. "Eat."

Ellie doesn’t have to be told twice, applying herself to the meal that’s available to her enthusiastically in the hopes that Joel will forget she’s in the room and talk freely. Gossip is the best she can do for entertainment half the time.

“You too.” The second bowl of soup and the last of the bread is set down for Joel, and you take the third bowl off the tray for yourself before handing out spoons.

"After the kid eats her share." Joel takes a sip of his water, knowing that he won't eat a bite until she is full. He hadn't eaten yesterday so she could have more. He could do without.

“Joel.” You would roll your eyes but you know what it is to be hungry. “There’s more in the kitchen. There’s plenty. Please, eat.”

He watches you for a moment before he nods, pulling the bowl towards him and immediately starts eating with the same tenacity as the kid.

You have to wonder how long they've been out in the wilds. It's a long way from the Boston QZ and they had said yesterday was their last meal, but you aren't sure it wasn't longer ago than that. Instead of asking questions you just have your own bowl, letting the silence be filled by nothing more than the sound of eating for now.

Joel is a fast eater. Has always been one. Oftentimes swallowing down meals to beat a timed clock to get to work on time, or to have a few minutes to rest before the lunch break was over on a job site. So he's the first one that is pushing the bowl away, not completely satisfied but the hollow ache is gone for now.

"There's more," you remind him, not trying to push but wanting - for your own reasons - for him to be taken care of.

"Maybe in a few minutes." Joel nods his head towards the girl. "Don't want her to throw it all up. Waste of food."

The girl grumbles and makes a face, but doesn't say anything, and you nod for now. "So...you're headed through? On your way from Boston to wherever?" For some reason you just can't bring yourself to ask if he would stay, which is what you really want to know. Even for a single day.

Joel looks at the door and then at Ellie for a moment before he looks back at you. "Got to get the kid to the Fireflies." He tells you quietly. "Just left Pittsburg and had a little trouble there." He admits, the run in on the road making them abandon the car when it crashed into the bookstore.

"Shit." Your shoulders fall a little, finding out that he's been in danger, but you don't reach for his hand like you want to. "Do you need to lay low for a little bit? How much trouble is a little trouble?"

"It wouldn't hurt." Joel acknowledges, knowing that he had pushed the kid hard for the past week, wanting to put as much distance between them and the city. "Be even better if you had a car we could have."

"I can ask around." A few people have pieces they've been cleaning up to sell to travelers exactly like him, but you had sold yours before the baby was born to get formula powder, diapers, and the other necessities that came with raising a child. "There's...there's room at my place but..." When you exhale you shudder slightly, suddenly terrified at having to actually tell him what happened. Never having thought this day would actually come, you hadn't exactly prepared a speech. "There's something you should know first."

Joel tenses immediately, knowing that news is never good. This time he is expecting to hear that you have some man in your life. That you don't need him bringing up the past. "You don't have to worry about it." He tells you immediately. "Won't say anything about it." He doesn't want you to think that will say anything if you hadn't been free to have him touch you like he assumed.

"What?" It takes you a second, but your mind catches up to his defensiveness relatively quickly. "No, no...that's not...that's not it at all. It's actually...kind of the opposite of that." Glancing at the girl he's got with him, you swallow a solid ball of nerves and try not to grimace. "Not sure what you're okay with me saying..."

"Well if it's something to do with where we're stayin' she's gonna find out." He frowns, trying to figure out what the hell has you so flustered. "Might as well tell 'er now."

"That's fair." But it still makes you blow out a slow, anxious breath and look down at your hands in your lap instead of even trying to look him in the eye. "It's just...if either of you has an issue with being around a baby...I'll find you somewhere else to sleep."

"A baby?" Joel's eyes widen and he frowns. "You found a baby out here?"

"Not quite." Found isn't really the word you would use. "I..." Your fingernails bite into your palms, nerves making you close in on yourself. With no idea how Joel will react, you just dive in headfirst. "She's seven months old. A-and her name is Caroline."

It doesn't take long for Joel to put the pieces together. You look like you're about to shit a brick and twisting your hands together nervously. Seven months old plus the eight—nine months carrying her. Puts her conception right at the time where he had been outside the walls and met up with you for one night. Joel's chair scrapes the floor as he pushes it back abruptly and turns to stalk out of the room, needing fresh air before he passes out.

"Oh fuck," Ellie murmurs, eyes going wide as she looks between you. Whatever gossip she thought she was going to get, this is way better. "It's not like I could just call you." Immediately ready to defend yourself, you're also ready to collapse inwardly from the anger and hurt on his face. "Show up to a FERPA QZ unauthorized and they hang you, so it's not like I could go to Boston, either." Calling the baby Caroline had been your nod to the city where her father supposedly lived, and she's had Sweet Caroline sung to her as a lullaby every night of her very short life.

Your words stop him from leaving, his back turned to you and he tries to breathe but all he can see Sarah's lifeless eyes, unable to protect her. "I-I need— to go-out-outside." Joel chokes, out, stumbling for the door.

"Joel!" Turning to follow him right away, you pause only for a second to point a finger at the girl. "Stay here," you tell her firmly before going after the man who has no idea how to navigate the colony he's about to be ambling around blindly.

Joel hits the door, stumbling into the colder night air, stumbling off to the side and bends over as he tries to suck in lungfuls of air and put his head between his knees at the same time. Blind panic taking over as all he can hear is the rapid, panicked breaths of his dying daughter's last breaths, not realizing it's actually his own breathing.

"Joel." Shooting after him, you find him hyperventilating against a tree in the courtyard beyond the gate. This isn't the first time you've ever seen somebody have a panic attack - it's a regular occurrence to a certain extent - but since it's the first time you've ever had to tell a man that you gave birth to his child, you're a little shaken. "Joel, you gotta breathe, okay?" You kneel down beside him and gently put your hands on his shoulders, trying to figure out if touching him will be soothing or just spook him more. "Deep breaths. Long, steady exhales."

"I c-can't – you— you— ba-bab-baby—" Joel closes his eyes and stops breathing at one point before he starts to drop down to his knees in the dirt. Inhaling roughly and sounding like a man starved of oxygen finally getting a breath. Trying not to pass out from the rush of oxygen to his brain and he clenches his fists on his thighs.

"I don't want anything from you." What the hell could you even ask for? Child support? That's fucking laughable in the world you live in now. Dropping to your knees in the dirt next to him, one hand is one his back but you're trying to search his face for some kind of reaction beyond panic. "Caroline and I are as good as anybody can be with the way the world is, okay? You just concentrate on deep, looong breaths."

"I don't— I can't—" Joel chokes out a sob and his hand wraps around his watch. The last thing he has from his daughter. "Sarah." He manages, trying to steady his breathing.

"Sarah doesn't need to know." Finding out he does have someone waiting for him is a disappointing twist to your gut, but you can't be focusing on yourself right now.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumping down and he takes a moment before he manages to take an even steady breath. "Not—" He stops himself and reaches for your hand. "She's okay?" He asks. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." You nod and squeeze his hand, wondering what the hell is going through his mind. "Yeah, Joel. We're okay. One of my friends is watching her while I'm on night shift, but we're good. She's...she's my angel."

Joel closes his eyes and absorbs the news that once again - twenty years later - he's a father. He nods, squeezing your hand back before he opens his eyes, more in control of himself than he had been minutes before. "Okay." He rasps out.

"You don't owe us anything, and I'm not asking for anything." He hasn't taken his hand back and you're shamefully glad about it, enjoying the warmth of him again after so long. "You just...you deserve to know she's yours."

He doesn't think that you would lie about something like that. You weren't that type of person. "I— Ellie—" He twists his head around to find the girl outside and staring at him with wide eyes.

"You guys are safe here." Whoever this girl is she's more than just cargo, but you're not going to ask questions. You always got the feeling that Joel was into far more dangerous shit than you could ever stomach, and while that was part of the sex appeal it did also mean you weren't going to stick your nose in his business.

"You shoulda stayed inside." Joel manages to sound like himself when he addresses Ellie but the girl just shrugs.

"But I didn't." She counters back with a smirk. "I wanted to see you freak out over having a baby. Old fart."

"Accidents happen in the world." Shit happens, you know that, and while Caroline was unplanned you wouldn't trade her for the world. "We all process shit differently, Ellie."

"He doesn't." She mutters, some of her joy fading as Joel stumbles to his feet and turns to her.

"Take your time." Your hand on Joel's arm is solid and would be comforting if it weren't for the situation at hand. "I'll take Ellie back inside. Give you...ya know...time to absorb."

"No." Joel shakes his head, the same calm that he normally shows settling back over him. "I'm good." He looks towards Ellie and grimaces. "Can the kid get a bath?" He asks, knowing it's been a while. "Some clean clothes?"

"Yeah, of course." Anything he needs is his, you know yourself well enough to know that you'll give him anything you can without sacrificing what Caroline needs. "A bath, clean clothes, food, place to sleep, whatever. I meant it, you can stay with me as long as you need to."

The invitation to stay shouldn't be appealing, but it is. Right now, Joel just wants to see this daughter of his and get some sleep. He's exhausted and now that his stomach isn't growling, he wants to rest. "Okay."

"Go grab your packs from the room," you urge them both, glad to see Joel looking a little more like himself again. "I'll go check in with Zach and then I'll show you where you're staying."

Joel is quiet as the two of them collect their things, ignoring the obvious looks from Ellie as she tries to catch his eye so she can grill him. He can't do that right now. Meeting you back out front and Joel holds the rifle loosely in his hand. "Lead the way."

******

The small house you've been living in is one of the lakefront cottages that some rich family once upon a time must have used for vacations. It's a little thing with just enough room for you and Caroline and your friend who drops in a few times a week to look after the baby so you can relax or work your night shift for the security team. A lot of your time is spent with the other mothers in the colony anyway, giving a whole lot of proof to the phrase 'it takes a village'. "This is it." A half mile from the gates, you point out the little house that once had white paint and blue shutters, and now looks exactly like the windswept relic that it is. "Home sweet home."

It's the closest that he's seen to normal since the outbreak. His face relaxing even more, and he gives a small half smile as he looks at it. "You sure you want us in your space?"

"You have more right to it than anyone else." The shrug you offer him is a little lax, but it's the best you can do. "And Ellie here needs a good night's sleep."

"I'd fucking kill for a pillow." Ellie moans, her eyes fluttering in at the idea of it. "Hey." Joel bumps her shoulder and frowns at her.

"No, it's alright." You wave him off, not wanting him to worry about propriety when you pull the front door open. "There's a spare bedroom with a whole bed with blankets and pillows and everything for when my friend stays over." Nothing is exactly high quality, but at least it's there. The glancing look you give Joel, though, is cautious. "I can sleep on the couch so you can have a bed. It's okay."

“I’m not takin’ your bed.” Joel huffs. “I’ve slept in worse places than a couch.” He’s not going to kick you out of your bed, not when you’ve got a baby to take care of. “Keep your bed, honey.”

What you really want is to offer to share it, but you're not sure if that would be weird to say in front of the teen. "Kitchen and living room down here, bedrooms and bathroom upstairs." You lead the way into the house with your voice lowered and point down the left side of the hallway. "That's the guest room and the bathroom, Ellie. Knock yourself out. There's a towel in the cupboard after you're done and I'll find something of mine you can wear for pajamas. We'll wash your clothes at the lake tomorrow."

“I get a bed to myself?” Ellie’s eyes are wide and she’s not too interested in a bath but she knows she will feel better. “For real?”

"It's not big, but it's all yours." You nod and watch her disappear down the hall at top speed. "She's sweet. Mouth of a sailor, but sweet."

“She’s a pain in my ass.” Joel corrects you, even as he smirks listening to her squeal of delight and the heavy stomping of her feet since she knows she’s safe.

"Do you..." Motioning toward your bedroom door lamely, you can hear your friend on the other side murmuring softly. "Do you want to meet your daughter?"

Joel takes a deep breath and after a moment, he nods. Just one short tilt of his head. Exhaling slowly so he doesn’t freak out again.

When you open the door two sets of eyes find you immediately. Your friend Emma is confused, obviously, but Caroline's little face lights up and she starts babbling happily the second you appear. "Home early tonight," you explain, offering both girls a smile and reaching for the little bundle in Emma's arms. "How's mama's little angel tonight? Did she wake up wanting snuggles again?"

A baby. It’s been nearly thirty-five goddamn years since Joel has interacted with a baby. Unable to do anything but watch as a little human, a miniature version of you - thank God - coos and babbles at her mommy. Hands grabbing and an occasional squeal coming out of her tiny, yet forceful, mouth.

"She got a little fussy a half hour ago," Emma tells you. Her eyes never leave Joel, though, regardless of the fact that she's talking to you. "One a.m. like clockwork." Bundling Caroline up in your arms is easy. It's like the most natural thing in the world despite how scared you had been to bring a baby into this insanity of this world around you. "Well, I got news for you, baby girl," you coo at her and bounce her softly in for your arms. "You have somebody extra special to meet." Stepping just barely to the side, you nod to Joel and smile. "Emma, this is Joel." The introduction is simple, but that's because your friend knows exactly who Joel is to you. Why he's so important. "Caroline, baby," you press a kiss to her forehead. "You wanna meet your daddy?"

Joel can't even spare a glance for the girl once he sees the kid. Fear, joy, bone deep sorrow and relief that she looks healthy all bloom in his chest at the same time. Eyes focused on her, absorbing every minute movement as you interact with his daughter. He moves forward, barely an inch, without even realizing it. Leaning in so he can see her better. See the child that he had created with you even though he had pulled out and thought that he had been fast enough. He knows that's not foolproof, and the evidence is right in front of him.

“Do you want to hold her?” Not knowing anything about Joel’s life before the Outbreak, you have no idea if this is the first time he’s held a baby or the millionth. He might hate them for all you know. Some people do, after all.

“No.” Joel rocks back and shakes his head immediately. “I’m— I’m dirty. I shouldn’t. I’ve been outside and who knows what I’ve picked up.” The idea of infecting this innocent baby makes his heart pound. “I— no.”

“Okay.” The panic on his face is unexpected, and surprisingly disappointing, but you nod and continue to bounce Caroline gently. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…you don’t have to be her father. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s not—” Joel cuts himself off and sighs. “I’ve been traveling for weeks. And had to— the clickers….” He mumbles, looking down at his filthy hands. “I need to clean up.”

“I’m gonna go.” Emma murmurs, grabbing her sweater from the old rocking chair and eyeing the two of you awkwardly. “Come by tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” You nod, reaching to squeeze her shoulder with one hand in silent thanks for everything she does to help you. “Thanks, Em.”

Joel listens as she goes down the stairs and out the door. Alone with you after over a year and there’s this baby in your arms. Taking him back to his early twenties, reminding him of when Sarah was that size. He clears his throat. “I— can I clean up?” He asks, knowing you might not have clothes for him to wear but it would be good to scrub the filth from his body.

“Y-yeah, of course.” You have your own bathroom, attached to your bedroom, and you know for a damn fact that if you hadn’t repaired this place yourself when you got to Lake City you’d be sharing it with at least one or two other families. But you put your foot down and you leaned on the pregnancy sympathy and you got it for you. Or really, for Caroline. “Through that door. I’m not sure if I have clothes you can wear, but I’ll look.”

“Thank you.” With one last look at the baby, Joel strides into the bathroom and closes the door. Amazed that there is a private space for you, that he’s got a baby he helped create. The mirror above the sink is old, the silver coating peeling but he looks into it and wonders when the hell he got so many grays in his hair.

Caroline frowns heavily when Joel disappears from her limited line of sight, and you coo at her quietly while he cleans himself up. “It’s okay, sweet Caroline,” you murmur, cradling her close. “Everything’s okay. He’ll be right back, baby girl. Don’t be sad.”

In the bathroom, Joel strips down, eager to be clean for the first time in who knows how long. The water isn’t warm but it’s fresh. Making him groan under the spray and watch as swirls of dirt and filth rush down the drain.

The sound of the shower running only lasts a few minutes, but you knock on the door when he’s done and call his name quietly. “Joel? I’ve got some things that might fit you. I’ll leave them in the bed for you while I get Caroline a snack, ok?”

“Thank you.” Joel calls out, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. It’s the cleanest he’s felt in a long time and the lure of clean clothes is hard to resist.

******

You’re downstairs with a happily babbling little girl thoroughly enjoying her applesauce when Joel appears in the doorway, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He looks like an entirely new man - fresh and clean like he just washed up after work and it’s a completely normal day in a completely normal world. If not for the peeling paint and candlelight, you could almost pretend the Outbreak had never happened. That this is just life with your baby and the man who gave her to you.

"Hey, uh..." Joel frowns slightly, feeling awkward and not wanting to overstep in any way when you have been so kind to him. "I left my clothes in the bathroom. Didn't— they need to be washed." He explains, lifting a hand to run it through his squeaky-clean hair.

“I’ll take them to the lake tomorrow when I do Ellie’s.” You offer, assuming they’ve been traveling hard and will need to rest. Joel isn’t a gentle kind of guy.

"I can wash our clothes." Joel tells you. "You don't need to add more to your plate for us. You already have enough." His eyes turn back towards the baby and he is still startled by the large dark eyes watching him. Reminding him again of Sarah as a baby.

“Then we’ll go together.” That’s fine with you, it’s an excuse to spend more time with him. “This one keeps things plenty messy.” You grin and blow Caroline a kiss. “Don’t you, sweetie?”

Joel nods and licks his lips slightly as he watches the girl react to it. Waving her hands and grinning at her mother. She's getting sleepy, her eyes starting to drift closed before she wakes herself up and waves her arms around with a squeal. It makes Joel smile, just a tiny one, but he does.

“Looks like it’s bedtime.” There aren’t baby monitors or fancy cell phones to use as video equipment anymore, but you have Caroline’s bassinet set up in the corner of your bedroom and that’s all you need, putting her in her basket-turned-carrier anytime you leave the house together. “If you’re tired, we can talk tomorrow?” There hadn’t been much talking with Joel a year ago. It was fast and needy and amazing, but it certainly wasn’t romantic dinners or dates strolling through the park philosophizing about life. Wanting to know him now is just because of Caroline, you tell yourself, even though you know that’s a lie. You hadn’t ever stopped thinking about this man. “If you want, I mean.”

He wants to talk to you but he's also knows that you need to sleep and so does the baby. "Yeah." He nods, shuffling slightly. "We can talk in the morning. Go put the baby to bed and get some rest." He suggests, not hearing Ellie upstairs and he knows she's probably passed out.

“Sure.” You nod, hoisting Caroline up in your arms and picking up the hat of applesauce to put it back in the barely functioning refrigerator. “Just, um…” A smile cracks your tired face when you look at him, you just can’t help it. “It’s good to see you, Joel.”

"It's good to see you too, honey." He remembers calling you that during that one night. It wasn't like he didn't remember every single second of that night after he had left you. He isn't in love with you, that would be foolish, but you had stayed in his mind and now he's seeing you again.

“There’s blankets and extra pillows on the couch.” You want so badly to have just the casual intimacy that would allow you to kiss his cheek, but that night was a long time ago and things are different now. Or at least you tell yourself that they are, because it makes you behave yourself. “Good night.” You turn for the stairs, gently patting Caroline’s back as you go, wanting her to settle in and sleep through as much of the night as possible. You don’t know if you’ll sleep, with Joel so near, but she should be able to have wonderful dreams.

******

Joel, when he's not popped any pills, is a light sleeper. Not sure when it is, but the sun is still down, jerking awake and listening for a moment for what had pulled him out of restless dreams of Sarah when she was a baby. Then he hears it again. A small cry. Not loud enough to really upset the household but the first unhappy sounds of a baby. Grunting, Joel rolls off the couch and stands. Starting to slowly make his way up the stairs. Expecting to hear your voice as he goes, but he still just hears the kid. Until he pushes the cracked door open and sees the small light, the baby moving in her bed in a corner and Joel looks over to see you sprawled out, still asleep. Another small grunt makes his head snap back towards the cradle and he moves towards it slowly.

She looks up at him with curiosity - not scared of him or disliking the look of him, apparently - just upset that in this exact moment there is no one holding her. Whatever the reason, whether it was a bad dream or an upset stomach or general discomfort, little Caroline reaches up her arms to ask to be held as another small cry escapes her trembling lips.

He doesn't hesitate more than a second, watching her as he reaches down and picks up the small girl. Instantly flashing back to when he routinely carried around another baby. He cradles his daughter in his arms and cuddles her close. "Hey baby girl." He croons softly, not wanting to wake you up but happy that she isn't crying now that he's holding her.

It’s sometime after that, that the nightmare starts. You’re oblivious to the world while you sleep heavily in your bed, and the nightmares come out of nowhere. Memories of the Outbreak mix with Caroline’s birth, with terrifying thoughts of losing her or seeing her turned as a child or even a full grown woman. Fear of infection grows in you exactly like the fungus the whole world has grown to fear, and you wake up in a panic that has you covered in sweat. Only to see Joel sitting in the rocking chair under the window with Caroline against his chest like nothing in the world has ever gone wrong in the first place.

"You woulda liked her." His hand is firm on her back, the warmth from her little body against his skin keeps him grounded. "Or she woulda loved you. She woulda fussed and cooed over you like you were the most precious thing." He thinks Caroline likes the rumble of his voice, the vibration from his chest. "She always wanted to be a big sister."

“Wha—what?” You can hear Joel talking but can’t quite make it out. Digging your way out of the mire of nightmares is like slogging through mud. “Is everything okay?”

Joel startles slightly, not enough to disturb Caroline, but he turns his head towards you. "I didn't wake you, did I?" He asks, frowning slightly at the thought. "Didn't mean to."

"No." Wiping one hand down your face, you shift to sit up in bed and get a better look at Caroline in his arms. "No, I, um...nightmare." You shrug one shoulder lamely.

"I was tryin' to let you sleep." Joel looks back down at Caroline and then back at you. "She got a little fussy but she was good as soon as I picked her up."

"I don't normally sleep so deeply." Damn nightmares kept you from hearing Caroline, which you hate, and you scrub both palms down your face in dismay. "I'm sorry she woke you up."

"Don't worry about that." Joel can't help but lean his head over, running his nose over her soft head and down her cheek. "I was just talkin' to her. Tellin' her about things."

"What kind of things?" Instantly you wish he was sitting on the couch or in bed with you so you could cuddle up together. A domestic thought that makes you wish you were a family.

Joel rubs her back gently when she squeals and then settles back down against his shoulder, chuckling softly. “I was tellin’ her about…Sarah.”

"Who is Sarah?" He had said the name earlier, but you weren't about to interrogate him in the middle of a panic attack.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles the baby again, remembering how soft and sweet they could smell when they are clean and sleepy. “She…she was my daughter.”

You don't miss the was in the sentence, and you suck in a cautious breath. "I'm sorry." Now that you have Caroline, you can't imagine the pain of losing her. No wonder he panicked when you told him he had another.

“It was a long time ago.” Joel mutters softly, his eyes opening and finding yours, seeing the sorrow in them. “She woulda been 32, laughing her ass off at her old man finally givin’ her the sister she asked for for Christmas every year.”

Before the Outbreak. You swallow, nodding as you absorb this new information. “If she was anything like you, she’d rib you mercilessly.” What little you do know of him, Joel teases as a sign of affection.

“Endlessly.” Joel knows what it’s like being a single parent, he hasn’t forgotten. “Her mother…left us when Sarah was three months old.” He decides he owes you this, you are connected with him in a way that fundamentally changes things. “I raised her, she had a...a way that just made me marvel at how smart she was. Quick witted.” His foot pushes off the floor and rocks the chair gently. “Until….”

“You don’t have to tell me if I’m you don’t want to.” If it will hurt you. The last thing you want is to hurt him in any way. Not when…when you feel about him like you do, and when he’s given you something as incredible as Caroline.

The baby squirms, capturing his attention for a moment and he rubs her back soothingly. “It’s okay. She— the day it happened – ‘Outbreak Day’ – it was my birthday.”

“Shit.” Shifting forward in your bed, you instinctively reach out to touch his knee. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know how it was.” Joel grunts. “Chaos. A plans crashed and the truck we were in flipped.” He can see it, plain as day. “Her ankle was hurt so I carried her and the Army— they—” He closes his eyes and squeezes them tight. “They shot us.”

“Assumed infected.” You sigh, looking down at your hand on his knee before realizing it’s probably an overstep and recoiling. “The Army took at least one person from all of us. People who could have survived. Who were fine.”

“They killed a twelve-year-old girl.” Joel hisses. “My baby girl.”

“And they killed my seventeen-year-old sister.” He’s not the only one who lost someone, but it’s obvious that his loss is still as fresh as the day Sarah was shot. “I-I’m sorry, Joel. I am.”

“I’m sorry about your loss.” He rumbles out softly. “We’ve all lost people.”

“We have.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But…we also gained someone. Tiny and fussy and she’s got the best laugh in the whole world. I’m just…I’m glad you got to meet her.”

“I’m sorry.” Joel shakes his head, even as he cuddles her closer. “I didn’t mean to – I shoulda pulled out sooner, I guess.” He knows that he could have gotten you pregnant from precum but he still feels guilty.

“I appreciate that, but…now that’s she’s here? I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” The times of being angry with him for what happened are far behind you at this point. You knew the risk you were taking having unprotected sex - you had just wanted Joel too desperately to care.

“I never expected to see you again.” He admits quietly. “Thought you would be out west somewhere. Thought about it some.”

“You thought about me?” You probably sound more surprised than you should, considering how often you think about him, but you had assumed he would have forgotten about you fairly quickly. He had nothing like your reason to remember.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Joel frowns slightly and tilts his head at you. “Thought we had a good night. Conversation…what happened after.” He smirks slightly.

“I thought we had a fantastic night.” And you hadn’t wanted to let yourself be overly sentimental in dreaming that he might still think about you sometimes. “I just didn’t know what you were going back to, so I kind of…didn’t want to let myself get sentimental, ya know?”

Joel snorts and shakes his head. “Some things you just don’t do.” He murmurs. “End of the world or not.” He and Tess hadn’t been exclusive, hell – she hadn’t even really been in his bed for a month before he had met you. Not that it matters now.

"Doesn't mean you couldn't have met somebody else since." There had been a million different ways that you had talked yourself out of getting maudlin over his memory or overly attached to fantasies of him, and you shrug a little while you watch him rock your now sleeping baby. "It was easier not to let myself dream about you."

“Naw… nothing—” He clears his throat. “Nothing that actually matters now.”

"I'm not expecting you to drop everything because of her." That's not something you would have asked of him even in the time before, and you're certainly not going to ask it of him now. The world has changed, even if people are fundamentally the same. "But we won't say no to visits now and then if you're still traveling."

He’s quiet for a minute, stewing as he contemplates what to do. “I’ve got to go.” He admits after a long moment. “Get the girl to the Fireflies.”

"Yeah, you said." It hurts more than you want to admit, because you want him to drop everything and stay with you. To be with you and Caroline. It's such a juvenile fantasy in some ways, but the way you've felt about Joel for the last almost year and a half is undeniable. "But like I said...if you ever came back this way...we would be glad to see you."

He can hear it in your voice, twisting his head so that he can look at you. “She’s important.” He tells you quietly, hoping that he can trust you. “Special.” He adds meaningfully.

“She seems like a good kid.” A little foul-mouthed maybe, but you had been too, at her age. And that was without the world collapsed around you. “I just want you to know you’re welcome here, that’s all. Caroline is…she’s your blood. And if you want to know her, you should be able to.”

He should be grateful that you are telling him that. That he can live his life and not worry about the baby he’s fathered. But it irritates him. “You aren’t goin’ west anymore? You could.”

“I can’t protect her on my own.” It’s something that you struggled with. The change to your plans to go west and find what remained of your family had been abandoned when you figured out that your sickness was pregnancy and not any of the thousand other things it could be. “I stayed and worked on the house so she could be safe. I have no business going west anymore.” As much as it hurts you, you really can’t. Caroline instantly became and will always be your first priority. “Not until she’s older, anyway. A lot older. And by then who knows what will have happened.”

“I’ve got to get to Jackson. My brother Tommy, he’s missing’ and that’s where he was last.” Joel shuffles Caroline so that she’s cradled in the curve of his arm.

“Wyoming?” He said west, not south, so it’s an informed guess. And an ironic coincidence, if it’s true. “I…I used to have people out there. I don’t know if they’re still there or still alive, but they were in Jackson last I heard.”

Joel nods, confirming he meant Wyoming. The idea of traveling with a baby isn’t a pleasant one. It makes things hundreds of times more complicated, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to leave the two of you, wondering what would happen to you.

“Could I send a letter with you, maybe?” Just being able to tell your surviving family that you’re okay - safe and with a baby - would be such a relief. “If you don’t run into them or can’t find them, that’s fine. But just in case?”

Joel is quiet for a long minute, mulling over everything. “If we had a car, we could go. All of us.” Joel murmurs quietly, unsure of your willingness to travel with Caroline.

“You want us to go with you?” It honestly wasn’t something you had expected. If anything, you would have been ecstatic to have him come back to you when everything was over.

“Only if you think you can handle it.” Joel tells you quickly. “It’s not going to be stroll. It’ll be dangerous. And the baby will need to be protected.”

“I’ve been out there before,” you remind him. It’s how you met, after all. Or at least it’s where you met. Out in the wilds. “It’s how I know I can’t do it alone. But two of us? That’s…that’s different.”

Joel looks at you, “how much can we get?” He asks, wanting to know about supplies. A car, horses, whatever could be had here.

“A lot of people want this house.” A safe place to live is invaluable, and this one has the benefit of the small garden Emma helped you start. “I’ve got good food stores and medical supplies. Clothes, soap, a knife and an axe.” You had built up this house to be where you raised your daughter, so you had stocked up supplies, too. “We could trade the house for a car and whatever else we need.”

“If you’re wantin’ to stay here, I won’t blame you.” Joel strokes the baby’s face gently and smiles when she reaches up and grabs his finger while she sleeps. “It’s a nice life you have here and it – it’ll be hard out there.”

“This is as good a life as we can hope for anymore.” That’s true, and it makes a part of you ache that you actually aren’t very happy here. You have everything you need, Caroline is safe, and there’s less violence than in a lot of other places - but you feel isolated regardless. Even the friends you’ve made feel like placeholders compared to your family. “But I really don’t know.” Is it worth giving up security for happiness? How will you know which will make Caroline happier?

“If you want to go, I’ll get you there.” Joel promises you, serious about that. He will do anything to protect you and the baby. Ellie too. “I promise.”

“I miss my family.” It comes out small, more ashamed than you’d like, as you watch Joel cradle your daughter in his arm. “I think I’d give anything to have my family back. Anything but Caroline.”

“Nothing wrong with missing family, baby.” Joel hums quietly, thinking about Tommy….and Sarah. “Sometime the only reason to go on if for people we care about.”

“Do you keep going for Tommy?” It’s an intensely personal question, but the connection you share with him now just as intensely personal as you could have with another person.

“I did.” Joel admits, his brother the most important person in the world to him until recently. Or tonight.

“Did?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together, wondering why he’s talking like his brother is dead when he just said he was going to find him.

“Did.” Joel murmurs softly, leaning down and pressing his lips to Caroline’s forehead. “Now I’ll keep going for her.” He tells you, looking up when he pulls away from his daughter.

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