#joel i’ve also been thinking about a lot but part of me wants to wait until i get my ps5 and replay tlou1 again to get his character right

[chelseasdagger]

i have fic ideas for jim hopper, joel miller, frank castle, sam rossi, and julian kaye and i’m too overwhelmed by them all that i just feel too disorganized to begin writing any of them

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into something different. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

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March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.  

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

Why you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 43

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

The night was nearly perfect. No, it was perfect. Meeting Dr. Miller’s parents and getting insight into their family dynamic was so enjoyable I didn’t want the night to end.

Normally, I couldn’t wait to drag him back to wherever the two of you could be alone. When everyone began to say goodnight after their final drink of the evening, I was actually disappointed. His mother and father were equally witty, both in different ways. She was fiery, he was dry but they complimented one another so well. And hearing an embarrassing story or two from Dr. Miller’s childhood was icing on the cake.

Strolling hand-in-hand with him now that the two of us were alone, however, had my stomach fluttering with those butterflies that just wouldn’t go away. Meeting the Miller family heightened my feelings for Joel.

Joel. Joel. It was Joel. I knew I had to get used to that, and in my mind, finally, I was.

When we got to the door of our room, I put a hand on his chest when the two of us turned instinctively toward one another. I looked down and back up to meet his stare.

“This has been a great night,” I told him. It was quite the understatement. My heart was aching in such a way that I knew I had fallen deeper in love with Dr. Miller. I didn't think that was possible - until tonight. My attachment and fear of loss had heightened, and it suddenly made me all the more frightened to lose them - all of them. Joel, Carol, Will, Chas and Franky. I wanted to be a part of their circle; their family.

“Gotta love those embarrassing stories,” Dr. Miller said with a grin, beginning to put the key card into place to open the door.

“You have a really great family,” I told him, as the door clicked open. He allowed me inside a step ahead of him.

“They are great,” he acknowledged. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without them.”

I smiled up at him and I felt a rush of emotion. It could have made me cry if I allowed myself to indulge in it, but I didn’t. When I pulled Dr. Miller in for a long hug, I closed my eyes. He was my rock.

Dr. Miller cradled the back of my head with his hand and kissed the top of my head. “I really do love you, ya know.”

“I love you, too,” I muffled against him. When I pulled back I looked at him and shook my head, “I’m so scared to lose this.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head.

“I am.” I shrugged, still attaching myself to him, “I didn’t think it was possible to fall any harder for you, Joel, but it keeps happening. It’s you. It’s your family. It’s this. It’s us.” My eyes met his when all of my thoughts finally manifested into a cluster of fast-paced mini-sentences.

“I understand,” Dr. Miller claimed with a nod, “I do. Believe it or not, I have never felt so attached to somebody in my life. It’s rare that I’ve introduced someone to my mother and father.”

“Really?”

“I know we started off this thing kind of unconventionally,” he acknowledged, “And I know we’ve kind of done things in an order that probably wouldn’t make sense to most people, but I’ve felt connected to you since the first time I saw you.”

I smiled and swallowed hard and looked down. Fuck, I was trying not to cry. I hated crying. Especially in situations like this. When a tear fell, I wiped it away and Dr. Miller hugged me again.

“Everything’s good,” he reminded me, stroking my hair as he held me.

“I know.” I managed a deep breath, never allowing myself to get into a heavy sob. I dried the stray tears that betrayed me and flashed him a genuine smile. “It’s just a lot.. in a really good way that I’m not used to.”

“I get it.”

I knew he did. My hand fell to his face and I just looked at him in such a way that activated his need to kiss me. I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and it was more intoxicating than anything we’d had to drink at the party.

“You taste good,” I whispered against his lips, making him chuckle. I laughed along with him and we locked eyes again for a second before he dove back in, kissing me again.

Dr. Miller’s hands found the backs of my legs and lifted high up, gripping my buttocks on both sides as they rode up my dress. When I felt his fingers grip around the fabric of my lacy thong I bit down on my bottom lip.

He pulled them down with ease, toward my ankles. The heels I wore were still on and I allowed him to pull them off first before tossing my underwear to the floor.

I had grown ten times more confident in my own skin since being with Dr. Miller. I found myself far less than perfect, but he made me feel like a goddess without even trying. Without even thinking, I ducked my arms out of the straps of my dress and shoved it down toward my waist until I bared myself fully to him.

Something about the fact that Dr. Miller was still fully-clothed aroused me. Maybe it reminded me of his school attire and I was somehow associating our current situation with all of my office and classroom-based fantasies I still had for him.

I pulled him by his tie toward me and he wasted no time collapsing his body onto mine on the bed as he made out with me with more force. My legs parted, he made himself home between them and when I felt him reaching for the buckle on his pants I let my head fall back against the pillow in anticipation.

When I felt his bare skin against me as his pants slid off his hips, my arms tightened around his clothed-upper body. I whimpered in his ear when he upped our intimacy to the next level. Never in my life had a man felt so completely like home. My body was his to have as freely as my heart was.

I half-expected Dr. Miller to whisper those perfectly spoken dirty nothings into my ear as he moved methodically on top of me. I loved how naturally they rolled off his tongue. But, instead, he kissed along my collar bone, my neck and the tops of my breasts. It wasn’t aggressive and torrid, the way he often commenced our evenings. Dr. Miller was taking his time, moving inside of me at a slow, toe-curling, pace.

I laid back and enjoyed every inch of him. This is what I needed after a night like tonight; after acknowledging how deep my feelings truly were for him. I didn’t even know how badly I needed it until we were in the middle of it.

Dr. Miller pushed back onto his knees, still clad in his shirt and tie, and stared down at me as he held the outsides of my hips. I thought he was in full control until he stopped mid-thrust and closed his eyes, resting his hands on my bent knees. He let out a deep breath and tried to compose himself.

When I felt him exit my body, I whined a little groan of disapproval. Despite him being on the verge of finishing, he managed a smile, still keeping his eyes closed. I giggled out loud and then reached for his tie again, guiding just his lips back to mine.

“I need a second,” he whispered, as his body slowly laid back down on top of mine. Dr. Miller pecked my lips several times in a row.

“Just kiss me then,” I begged, running my hands up the back of his shirt to feel him.

Dr. Miller wrestled with his tie, and I could see it was buying himself the time he needed; the perfect momentary distraction. He got it undone and pulled the shirt up and over his head, before towing the blankets up over us as he tossed it to the side.

With both hands he grabbed my face and kissed me again. The mid-love making foreplay left my body craving him even more. Kissing him, touching him, feeling his unveiled body colliding with mine beneath the covers was my own personal definition of ecstasy. It left me as putty in his hands to mold however he wished when he finally connected himself to me once more.

I was grateful that he had ditched his shirt so I could hold him properly. I hugged Dr. Miller’s body to mine. The warmth that radiated out of him and that scent of the Old Fashioned that still lingered somehow added to the experience

My eyes never opened. I let the rest of my senses take control and didn’t hold back how he was making me feel.

“Dr. Miller,” I whimpered as he finally surpassed the gentle threshold and bit down on my neck.

“Call me Joel,” he whispered back. It was the opposite of what he’d demanded in the past.

My arms tightened around him. “I will after I come,” I whispered again.

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller grabbed my face a little rougher now and we fought for dominance as we made out. I felt him pick up the pace, like the animal had been released from that one sentence.

He had primed me perfectly for this. The buildup was there. My insides were on fire and I knew that any of his thrusts could push me over the edge at any given moment. I held him hard, his erratic breaths landed on my neck.

“Come for me,” he begged in my ear, whispering directly against it as his body lurched forward in rapid succession.

I felt the impending explosion. Thrust after thrust I was closer. I whined. I whimpered. I moaned. Each time he begged me to let it out, and my inhibitions lowered as my orgasm began to creep in.

“Fuck, Dr. Miller.” I cried out his name and then cursed again as I let myself go to the eruption of pleasure.

“Ohhh, fuck..” He continued to thrust but I knew he was coming from how loud he groaned, accompanied by the phrase I’d grown to lust and love, “Ohh… good girl. Fuck. You’re so good.” He came as hard as I did, pumping into me a final series of times as I dug my fingers into his upper back and held him hard against me.

We both breathed heavily as we writhed in the aftermath of our simultaneous orgasms. I hummed a moan into his ear and he let his head fall against the pillow as his body went limp on top of me.

I kissed the top of his shoulder lazily and then let my head fall back again. “Mmm..”

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller echoed. He kissed my cheek and I smiled, still hugging him against me with no intention of letting go. “I’m tempted to just quit my job and use all my money to take you away to some tropical island and just.. drink fruity drinks and do this with you six times a day for the rest of our lives.”

I smiled and moaned again quietly as Dr. Miller began to gently kiss my neck. “Don’t tease me.” I let out a little laugh.

“Mmm..” He planted a long, closed-mouth kiss on my lips. “I’m in this for the long haul, ya know.”

I opened my eyes and looked up as his flickered open at the same time. “You mean that?” I honestly don’t know why I asked that, but a part of me wanted to hear him say it again. It was misplaced insecurity because of how overwhelmingly perfect our situation felt.

“Yeah.” Dr. Miller gave a nod. His eyes studied mine.

“So am I,” I said back, “If you’ll have me.”

“Again and again.” He peppered my lips as he spoke, “And again.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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[and-claudia]

Against All Odds pt.6 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

Warnings: more angst

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit

word count: 4000+ (sorry this one wasn't as long, this ep is more about Bill and Frank so there wasn't a whole lot to work with and I wasn't sure what to add either)

Taglist Sign-Up (read my rules carefully before filling it out)

gif not mine

We walked along in a deafening silence for about two hours, no one daring to say anything. We stopped to eat, but none of us seemed to actually have an appetite. It wasn’t until after our short break that someone finally spoke up. 

“So how much further do we have to go?” Ellie asked. 

“We’ll try to go another hour then finish the trip tomorrow.” Joel said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

“Get to the river and stay there for the night?” I asked and he only nodded. 

He began walking without another word leaving me and Ellie to follow him. Once again, we were thrown into silence. We made it to a clearing beside the river as the sun began to set, making the shadows of the trees around cast us into darkness. 

“We’ll stay here.” Joel declared. 

“There’s no Infected here, is there?” 

“No.” I tried to reassure the younger girl. 

“Sometimes.” Joel said gruffly, contradicting what I had just told her. 

“Rarely. Joel has only ever come across one way out here. We’re ten miles from the outskirts of the city. We will be safe, I promise. Joel and I will switch off keeping watch throughout the night.” I said. 

“I’ll keep watch.” Joel said, leaning against a tree with his back to us. 

I walked over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “Joel, you need to get some rest. You stayed up last night on watch. I can help watch.” 

“No, Tess and I kept watch.” He snapped as he corrected me. 

I sighed, “Joel, I know you’re hurting, but please don’t take it out on me. I had nothing to do with that. I’m sorry, I really am but we need to keep going. That’s what she wanted.” 

“You’ve realized when she got bitten, don’t you?” He asked, looking forward still. 

“No…” I hadn’t really thought too much about it. 

“I’ve been trying to figure it out this whole time and I think I got it. The only time it could have happened was in that damn museum. And it got me thinkin’... maybe if I wasn’t so focussed on protecting you, then maybe we wouldn’t have gotten separated. Maybe that clicker wouldn’t have gotten her.” 

I dropped my hand, “You- You’re not seriously trying to blame me for Tess getting bitten? Are you?” 

He didn’t answer my question just turned around and squatted down to get his canteen. 

“I am going to go fill my canteen. You and Ellie should probably do so soon or you’ll have to wait until the morning.” He said as I stood there stunned. 

After he walked off I walked over to where Ellie was sitting and sat down near her. 

“Dude, are you okay?” 

I only raised an eyebrow in response to her. 

“You look pale… oh please tell me you’re not gonna hurl again.” 

I shook my head. 

“Wait, what were you two talking about?” She asked realizing this had something to do with the conversation I just had with Joel. 

“He’s blaming me.” I said quietly. 

“For?” She asked clearly confused. 

“Tess.” 

“How?! It’s not like you’re the Infected who bit her.” 

I just shrugged. 

“Do you need to refill your water or can you wait till morning?” I asked wanting to change the subject. 

“I can wait.” 

I nodded, “Get some rest, we’ll get you to Bill and Franks tomorrow.” 

What I didn’t mention though was that I had just made the decision to stay with them as well and let Joel go back to Boston alone. 

After a while of trying to find a semi-comfortable, or more so tolerable, position to sleep against the tree I was leaning against I fell asleep. Despite what he had said earlier I had set a two-hour timer on my watch and had gotten up when it started going off, ready to take over watching out for our little group. But when I offered, Joel gave no answer and after a few attempts, I just gave up and walked back over to my spot to go back to sleep. 

The next time I woke up, it was just after dawn and Joel was nowhere to be seen. I panicked for a second thinking he just left us, but I knew he would never actually do that, no matter how pissed off he was with me. I figured he probably went off somewhere to go to the bathroom or something so I decided to be productive and go ahead and refill our waters down at the river. I grabbed all three of our canteens and began to walk down to where the water was deeper so I wouldn’t get dirt in them. 

When I got there I was surprised to find Joel there. I didn’t say a word or get too close. My plan was to refill the waters and that is what I was going to do. 

“You’re up early.” Joel commented upon seeing me. 

I only hummed in response. 

“Did morning sickness wake you up?” He asked. 

“Nope. I feel fine, Joel. Just refilling the water.” I said, closing one of them and grabbing the next. 

“Let me get the last one.” He said reaching for it. 

“I got it. I don’t need your help.” I snapped. 

“Is the girl awake?” He asked after sighing. 

“Ellie,” I emphasized her name, “is still asleep.”

He just sighed again before standing up and walking back to where Ellie was at. I finished up filling the last of the canteens before collecting them all and heading back as well. 

3rd person PoV

Joel got back to where Ellie was now sitting against a tree, awake. He didn’t say anything to her just went over to his bag to grab a small piece of jerky to eat before they left for Bill and Franks. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” Ellie asked, Joel had given it to her to cover up last night. 

He shook his “no” before tossing her the pouch of jerky for her to take a piece as well. 

“It’s not her fault.” Ellie said after a few beats of silence. 

Joel gave her a weird look. 

“Yn, she told me you blamed her for what happened to Tess. You can’t blame her for that. I don’t what exactly you two have going on, but you need to figure it out, and that means you need to realize that she didn’t get Tess killed, I get that you’re hurt but you can’t let that keep you from what you know you gotta do.  I mean come on, man she’s having a baby, don’t you want to be there for her? For your kid?” 

“You’re right, you don’t know what we have goin’ on, so don’t pretend to.” Joel said as he threw his backpack onto his back. 

By the time Yn got back the other two had already gotten ready to go. 

Yn’s PoV

“You ready for a five-hour hike?” Ellie asked. 

“I don’t exactly have a choice do I?” I joked as I handed her her water. 

“Let’s get going.” Joel said, taking his from me as well. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Ellie finally broke the silence we had been walking in since we left. 

“I thought you said there weren’t any infected out here?” She asked. 

“Rarely, why?” I answered her. 

“What is he looking out for then?” She asked, referring to Joel. 

“People.” He answered for me. 

“Oh,” The younger girl nodded, “Are Bill and Frank nice guys?” 

I could tell she was just as tired of the silence as I was. 

“Frank is.” Joel replied causing me to crack a small smile to myself. 

“How’d you get that scar on your head?” 

That question made me cringe as I waited to see what Joel would answer. But when he gave no response, Ellie decided to press the matter. 

“What? Is it something lame? Did you like fall down the stairs or something?” 

“I didn’t fall down any stairs.” Joel snapped.

But that didn’t stop Ellie, “Okay, so what then?... ew don’t tell me y’all were doing some weird sex thing and it went totally wrong.” She said, cringing. 

“It wasn’t a sex thing.” I said to her. 

“Okay, well if you won’t tell me, I’m sure I can get Yn to. She clearly knows.” Ellied said. 

Joel sighed, “Fine, someone shot at me and missed.” He said, which wasn’t a total lie. 

“See, that’s cool. You shoot back?” Ellie asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“You get him?” 

“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.” Joel said. 

At this point, I reached up and gently grabbed Ellie to pull her back in step with me so she wouldn’t ask any more about what had happened. 

We continued to walk along the path until we came to an old convenient store gas station on the side of the road. I remembered the palace. It was used to stash supplies on runs. 

“Wait here. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.” Joel said, walking closer to the entrance. 

Neither Ellie nor I listened and continued to follow him. 

“Why do you have stuff stashed here?” Ellie asked Joel. 

“You ask a lot of goddamn questions.” Joel grumbled. 

“Yes, yes I do.” Ellied replied causing me to bite back a laugh, “But you didn’t answer the question.” 

“We leave supplies on routes so if we’re running low on something, we can-” I began explaining but was cut off. 

“No way!” The younger girl exclaimed. 

I turned to see what has caught her eye. It was a Mortal Kombat arcade game. 

“You ever play this one?” She asked as she messed around with joysticks and buttons on it. 

“I never did, but my brothers would sometimes.” I said, stepping up beside her. 

“I had a friend who knew everything about this game.” She said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! There’s this one character, Mileena, who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones!” She exclaimed. 

“Well, that’s a lovely mental image.” I teased before turning around to see what Joel was getting into. 

“Do you remember where you put it last time?” I asked genuinely since he seemed a bit confused. 

“Yes, give me a minute. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a while.” He said. 

I putmy hands up in surrender. 

“Well then while you zero in on it, Ellie and are gonna look around.” I said. 

“It’s all been picked over already. You know that.” He said. 

“You never know.” I said as me and Ellie began to look around. 

We came up to an open doorway and she hesitated before looking up at me. 

“You think there’s anything bad in there?” She asked. 

“Not besides grumpy butt behind us.” I said referring to Joel and his attitude. 

That made her laugh before she walked through. We walked into a smaller room that just had more debris on the ground. Ellie kicked a piece of cardboard out of the way to reveal a hatch on the ground. We both eyed each other before squatting down to open it. 

We got it open but before we could investigate Joel was calling out to us. 

“You two good?” 

“Yeah!” 

“We’re fine!” 

We yelled back. Then we turned back to the opening we had just found. It was pitch black and we couldn’t see anything inside of it. 

“How deep do you think it is?” She asked. 

I shrugged before grabbing a piece of debris and dropping it in. It quickly hit the ground so it wasn’t too deep. 

“I’m going to go down there.” Ellie said, already taking off her bag. 

“No, you’re not. I’ll go. You stay here.” 

“You have precious cargo. I’ll go. Look I’ll flip that trash can over and give myself an escape route.” She said. 

“Joel is going to be pissed if I let you go.” I said. 

“Then you didn’t let me. I bluntly ignored you and went anyways. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

Before I could react she had jumped down into the floor. It was only about a minute later I heard the gasps of an infected.

“Ellie, get out now.” I said quietly but loud enough for her to hear. 

“It’s stuck. It’s fine.” 

“I don’t care, get the fuck back up here.” I said sternly but she ignored me. 

By the time I was able to stand up, drop my bag, get my gun ready, and jump down, Ellie was already crouching in front of it. Sure enough the infected was stuck under rubble. I watched as Ellie stabbed it in the head with her knife. 

“Okay, if you’re done playing with that thing, can we go? Joel is going to freak if he finds out you got that close to one.” I said. 

She sighed and stood up before walking back over to me. I could hear Joel calling our names as we climbed out using the trashcan. Ellie went first and just as I climbed out Joel stepped into the doorway of the small room. 

“What the hell were you two doing down there?” He asked. 

“Looking.” I said, before standing up and grabbing my bag. 

“Picked over, my ass.” Ellie said as she stepped passed Joel, proudly showing off the box of tampons she had managed to find down there. 

“You find the stash?” I asked. 

He nodded, “Left the rifle there too. It’s almost out of ammo and I don’t think they’ll have any for it. Practically useless now.” He said. 

I nodded. 

Then without another word, he turned around to walk out. I followed behind him. Soon we were walking again. The silence took over. 

There wasn’t really much to see this far from a QZ. It was now mainly just land. There was an occasional abandoned car or building but other than that it was just nature. It was nice to listen to, but it was also boring. The last time I had walked through here Joel and I were talking the whole time practically now he had barely said anything to me the whole time since we left the QZ. 

Up ahead there was a pretty big hill, I remembered it from last time. There was a plane crashed on top of it. I didn’t particularly like looking at it. Although you couldn’t see anything, you just knew everyone died on that plane. It was eerie to see it. 

“You ever fly in one of those?” Ellie asked. 

“I never did, no.” I said. 

“A few times.” Joel said. 

“So lucky.” Ellie said in awe. 

“Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a little seat, pay $12 bucks for a sandwich.” He said. 

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky.” Ellie said, cutting him off. 

I had to admit that she was right. It was pretty cool. You never see planes like that flying around anywhere anymore. 

“Yeah, well so did they.” Joel said, nodding to the crash, before truing and walking down the path.

“Way to be an ass about it.” I mumbled. 

As we continued walking, Ellie continued to ask questions. I answered when I could and listened when Joel would speak. 

“So, everything came crashing down in a single day?” The young girl asked. 

“Pretty much.” 

“Basically.” 

Joel and I said at the same time. 

“How? I mean no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once? How did it even start? You have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.” 

Her last comment made me laugh a little. 

“It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school.” Joel said 

“FEDRA school. They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.” She explained. 

“To answer your question, no really knows. There are theories but no one knows with 100% certainty that it came from this or that.” I explained. 

“The best guess is that the Cordyceps mutated,” Joel began, “Then some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal,... pancake mix…” 

I caught the way his face dropped at the mention of that last one. 

“You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves, around the same time Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thursday night or Friday morning. Day goes on… they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse. Then they started bitin’.” 

“By that night, everything had fallen to shit.” I added as the memories came flooding back. 

Joel nodded before continuing, “Friday night, September 26th, 2003. By Monday everything was gone.” 

I wiped the few tears that had slipped out off my cheeks as we continued to walk. 

“Makes a lot more sense than monkeys, I guess…” Ellied said, clearly unsure of what to say to all the information she just received. 

We continued to walk and I knew what was coming up. 

“We’ll cut across the woods here.” Joel said painting to the tree line. 

“Why? Isn’t the road easier?” Ellied questioned. 

“Yeah, it’s just… there’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.” Joel said. 

“Well, now I have to see.” She countered. 

“I don’t want you to.” 

“Too bad let’s go.” She said walking out ahead of us. 

“Ellie!” Joel called to get her to stop. 

“Joel, just let her. She’ll have to learn at some point.” I said gently grabbing his arm only for him to pull it away from me as he followed Ellie down the path. 

She was a few yards ahead of us as we walked along quietly. I kept my eyes glued straight ahead not wanting to see what was coming up beside us. 

“Well, whatever it is, I think it’s gone!” Ellied called back to us. She stopped short and turned to her side to see what was in the ditch there. The pit was filled with human bones. Ellie turned to us for answers. 

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers went through the country sides, evacuated small towns. Told you you were goin’ to a QZ and you were… if there was room. If there wasn’t.” 

This time I was the one to walk away without a word. I walked down the path trying to get away from the sight before us. Although I wasn’t from a super small town, my town wasn’t huge. I couldn’t help but think about if we hadn’t of ran that night would me and my family met the same fate as all of them. 

The rest of the walk was spent lost in my own thoughts. Finally, what snapped me out of it was seeing the fence to Bill and Frank’s appear in the distance. I smiled knowing I would be able to sit down and rest my feet soon. When we got to the gate, Joel punched in the code and it unlocked for us. We walked down the road and up to their house. The first thing I noticed was the flowers out front were wilting, Frank would never let that happen. 

It was quiet… too quiet. Joel called out both of their names but there was no reply. My heart began to race. 

“Wait here Ellie.” I said as Joel and I both went to look for them. 

As we walked around I knew what was going on. There was a thick layer of dust covering everything, food in the kitchen was rotting, their garden was being overrun with weeds.

“Joel…” I said, voice cracking. 

He turned to me and shook his head, “No. They are here somewhere. Let’s just check their room.” He said, stepping away to try their bedroom door. It was locked. 

“Joel… look around, they’re not here. They haven’t been for a while.” Saying it out loud made my heart break. 

Before any of us could say anything we heard something at the front of the house. We both rushed up there to find Ellie sitting at a chair reading a letter. 

“It’s from Bill.” She said, grabbing the envelope and reading off who it was addressed to, “To whomever… but probably Joel.” 

Joel took the letter and scanned over it. I watched anxiously as Joel read the letter. His face was unreadable. He didn’t say a word when he was finished, he just held it out for me to take. 

My eyes scanned over the words over and over as if they would somehow magically change. They didn’t. Bill and Frank were gone. I let that set in and read the rest of the letter. The was a “P.S.” at the very bottom. 

“I know you know where the keys to my truck are. Take it.” 

I laughed sadly as I read it causing Joel to give me a weird look. 

“He wants us to take the truck.” I said showing him what I was talking about in the letter. 

I saw the faintest of smiles appear on his face. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and so was he. He turned on his heel and walked out of the house. I sighed and dropped my head. 

“Hey, why don’t I walk you down to the old shops, there might be some salvageable clothes down there. We can grab some, bring them here, wash them, take a shower and get cleaned up before Joel and I figure out the next move.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Ellie said. 

“Alright, come on.” I said as I stood. 

We walked out of the house and I could see Joel just standing at the edge of the yard, thinking. I let him be. He needed time to process, the least I could do was give that to him. It didn’t take long to get down there. Frank had fixed them up pretty damn well and there was actually a decent amount of stuff left behind. I told Ellie to pick out two sets of clothes to bring with us as I did the same. I tried to find leggings that would stretch hopefully once I began showing as well as shirts that would be big on me. Hopefully, we’d be done traveling before it got too bitter cold out. I also grabbed a handful of clothes for Joel to look through as well. 

“You were gonna stay too, weren’t you?” Ellie asked, suddenly appearing beside me causing me to jump slightly. 

I sighed, “Yeah. For the baby. It would’ve just been easier.” I admitted. 

She nodded, “I think he’ll come around eventually.” 

I gave her a grateful smile, “Are you ready to head back?” I asked. 

“Almost, I wanted to show you something I found, just in case you wanted any of it. Come on.” She said, turning and walking away to a different area. 

She led me over to a cardboard box. I gave her a weird look but opened it. Inside there little baby onesies. I felt my eyes begin to water a little. This was really happening, I was going to have a baby. 

“Shit, you okay?” Ellie asked clearly worried she had done something to upset me. 

“Yeah, I’m fine… it’s just kinda hitting me that I am having a baby… like there’s going to be a small human here in a few months… that’s insane.” I laughed, “You pick out 3, I’ll pick out 3, they’re small enough to fold down pretty small in my bag.” I said. 

Ellie nodded excitedly. We both stuck to fairly neutral ones. Once we had those we gathered up everything and walked back to the house. When we got there Joel was sitting at the table, letter in one hand and a glass of some type of alcohol on the table beside him. 

“What’s all that?” He asked upon seeing our small haul. 

“Extra clothes. I am going to wash them, then I figured we could shower, regroup and figure out our game plan.” I said. 

“Sure.” He gruffed, reaching for the glass. 

“Let me go start these, then I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” I said to Ellie. 

Once Ellie was in the shower I went back to where Joel was. 

“I grabbed a few things that I thought might fit you as well.” I said as I took a seat beside him. 

He nodded. 

“What do we do with the kid now?” Joel asked. 

“We take her with us.” 

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[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 45

You, Joel and Ellie make your way into Salt Lake City. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-44 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 5.4K

“I’m just realizing,” you said as you walked alongside Joel and Ellie. “I was not very well traveled before the outbreak.” 

“You’d made it a few places,” Joel frowned a little. “Got out of your hometown and shit, more than you can say for most people…” 

Ellie frowned, too. 

“Wait,” she said. “Most people would really just… stay in one place? Even when they could leave?” 

“Oh yeah,” Joel said. “Most people just stuck where they were. I moved to a different town from where I was born but same state. Doc made it a lot further than me.” 

You shrugged. 

“Just for college,” you said. “The point is, this is the furthest west that I’ve ever been. How strange is that? That it took me until the end of the world to get to this side of the country…” 

“But you had planes!” Ellie gaped at you both. “You could go in the sky and you just didn’t? What the fuck, man?” 

You and Joel both laughed at that. 

It had been one of Ellie’s better days. She was rabidly curious, asking about a million questions as you closed in on Salt Lake City. Judging by the mile markers, you only had one more night of sleeping on the road before you made it to the Fireflies’ facility - assuming this one wasn’t abandoned too, anyway - and it had been a really good last day on the road. 

The thought was strangely bittersweet, a sense of finality to your looming arrival in the city. You wanted to get Ellie to the Fireflies. You wanted to start work on a cure. It had been so long since you’d been in a lab now, part of you was itching to get back into it. Hell, getting back to doing anything but the minimum when it came to medicine sounded incredible. 

But you didn’t want to change anything about your time with Joel and Ellie. You’d even be fine living on the road forever if it meant the three of you got to be together all the time. The Firefly compound was an unknown. You weren’t sure if they would LET you stay together - though you doubted Joel would let them separate you. But if their doctors wanted to keep Ellie in a contained environment for a while to make sure she didn’t come down with anything while they drew samples, you weren’t going to push back on them. You’d come too far to quibble over something so small. But you still dreaded it, not being with them all the time. 

It reminded you a little of the feeling in your stomach when you first started adjusting to the QZ with Andrew. You’d become so used to functioning with him glued to your side, constantly watching each other’s backs for danger and killing to keep the other alive, even a room’s distance was disorienting and anxiety inducing. The makeshift medical camp was a rude awakening when you’d arrived, that much you knew even though your memories of it were vague at best. You remembered arriving to the QZ, your arms firmly around Andrew’s waist and his arm around your shoulders, clutching onto each other. You were covered in blood, your shotgun dangling from your arm. They’d had to pry you apart to examine you both and it was like someone was ripping away a part of your body. You’d tried to ease yourselves into some separation after that. Different rooms for a bit, a few hours in different buildings after that. It took months to sleep apart. 

You didn’t think it would be that extreme this time. You knew better what to expect, for one. For another, you’d all been living with the damage dealt by surviving the end of the world. Ellie had been born into it. Who Joel was now was forged in it. You, it seemed, had just melted into it, who you were finding little paths through the chaos like water through cracks in cement. You would all get through this differently, but you could get through it. That you knew. 

It also helped that Jackson was waiting on the other side. You weren’t sure how long it would take to get there, but you’d get there. There was a house with a room that Ellie could make her own - you’d paint her a solar system in a corner and constellations on the ceiling. There was a kitchen where you could make the cookies you’d been baking for so long you had the recipe memorized. There was a porch where Joel could play guitar. There were kids Ellie’s age she could meet and laugh with and maybe fall in love with the way she deserved to. There were people to play cards with and drink with and have inside jokes with. There was life there, life that was worth living outside of just the three of you. 

You just had to get there. That’s all. 

“Flying wasn’t that special, Gremlin,” you said smiling a little. “It was expensive and they tried to cram in as many people as possible so they made as much money as they possibly could. And you had to get to the airport hours early so they could search all your stuff… Really, it was a hassle.” 

“Is that why people didn’t do it?” She frowned. “Go places, I mean.” 

“Travel cost a lot of money,” Joel said. “More than most people had just lyin’ around. Stayin’ home was a lot easier and a lot cheaper.” 

Ellie scrunched her face. 

“Everyone acts like before was so fucking great but a lot of it sounds shitty,” she said. “Why make it so not everyone can do the cool shit? That’s dumb.” 

“I agree,” you smiled a little. 

“I hope it’s better this time,” she kicked a piece of asphalt. “Once there’s a cure, I mean. Like I know it’ll take a while and shit, they’re going to have to make the thing and then give it to everyone and whatever but I hope they don’t keep the shitty stuff from before.” 

Joel looked skeptical so you jumped in before he had a chance to. 

“We’ve never had a chance to kind of reset humanity before,” you said. “We might be able to make things way better than they ever were before. Who knows.” 

“That’d be cool,” she nodded. “Then at least it’s not like all this shit was for nothing, you know?  Like… yeah, it was all really fucked up for a while and people did really messed up things to each other but in the end, we did something good with it. You know?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled at her a bit. “I do.” 

The three of you called it a day about 15 miles from Salt Lake City. You knew if you kept walking for a bit that you’d probably find a house to stay in for the night but Joel seemed to have the same mindset as you. One more night, the three of you, camped out on the road. You’d be with the Fireflies tomorrow night, in a place with a roof and beds and doors, but the sky was clear and the weather was - relatively - warm. One last night under the sky, just the three of you, before the world changed. 

Joel built a fire and Ellie shot a rabbit. You got the last of the herbs you’d grabbed from Bill and Frank’s to dress the animal up a bit, making it feel like something special. You played poker around the fire, Ellie cleaning out both you and Joel. 

“If Vegas is ever a thing again, you need to go,” you said as you got the cards picked up. “You’d ruin the casinos’ day.” 

“Should start a poker night in Jackson,” Joel said. “She’d hustle half the damn town before anyone got wise….” 

You convinced Joel to sleep through the night and let you and Ellie split the watch - something you were counting as a win. He’d been pushing himself too hard since you’d left the cabin. It had taken you just over a week to get this far and he’d pulled two all night watches in that time and covered at least half of all the others.  You weren’t sure if it was paranoia, if it was fulfilling some need to look out for the two of you until he physically couldn’t do it anymore, if he had a bad feeling and he was doing everything he could to defend against the source of it. He wasn’t talking to you about it so you were just trying to keep an eye on him the best you could. He was more fragile than he looked, you knew. You’d wait until you were safely with the Fireflies and had some time alone before you really tried to get anything out of him. 

But letting you and Ellie handle the watches without him was a change. You hoped it meant he was doing better, that he was starting to feel like he could relax. You pressed yourself against his front as he headed to his sleeping bag for the night, reaching up to scratch your fingers through his beard before tugging his lips to yours. His arms slug around your waist and he pulled you close and you smiled against his lips. 

“What’s that for?” He asked when you pulled away eventually. 

You shrugged. 

“Just love you is all,” you said. 

“Love you too,” he kissed your forehead. “Wake me up the second you think somethin’ might be wrong, got it?” 

“I promise I won’t try to handle a damn thing all on my own,” you rolled your eyes a bit and he lay down beside the fire to sleep. 

The watch was quiet and still, nothing raising any alarms for you, even when you took the short walks around the perimeter of your little camp. It was pushing 4 a.m. when Ellie started jerking in her sleeping bag. You frowned, watching her for a moment to see if it passed. It didn’t, her thrashing getting worse as she whimpered. You knelt beside her and set the rifle out of reach before you gently touched her arm. 

“Ellie,” you said quietly, calmly. “You’re OK Baby Girl, you’re OK…” 

She jerked awake and shot upright, throwing your hand sharply away. She was panting and gasping for breath, her eyes wide and glistening with tears in the light of the moon and the dying fire. She looked at you for a moment before it was like something in her cracked and she choked out a sob, her head falling onto your shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you said softly, putting your arms around her and tucking her head beneath your own. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. You’re OK…” 

“It felt so real,” she hiccuped into your neck. “I thought…” 

“It’s OK,” you said when she trailed off. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’ve got you, not going to let anything happen to you, OK? You’re safe.” 

She nodded but tucked herself tighter against you. You just held onto her, rocking her as her sobs faded. 

“Want to talk about it?” You asked when her breathing had returned to a normal pace and it felt like her tears were no longer soaking your shirt. “It might help. I’m here for you, you can tell me anything. I’ll even keep it from Joel if you really want…” 

She pulled back from you a little, looking you in the eyes. 

“Yeah?” She sniffed. “Because I know it’ll just hurt him and….” She sighed heavily. “I really don’t want to hurt him.” 

“He’d much rather you talk to him than hold onto all that hurt yourself, Baby Girl,” you tucked some of the hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “But I don’t have to tell him if you don’t want me to.” 

She looked over at Joel who was snoring lightly, his deaf ear facing up as he lay on his side. 

“You could bring a marching band through here right now and I doubt he’d hear,” you smiled a little at her. “It’s OK. What’s bothering you?” 

Ellie’s eyes searched yours for a moment before she took a deep breath, looked down at her hands and began. 

“Back at Silver Lake. After…” she said, taking another shuddering breath. “After they took you away, David… He tried talking to me, saying shit about how he thought I was dangerous. Said he wanted to fuckin’ lead with me, that I had… that I had a ‘violent heart.’” 

She put the last two words in air quotes, all but spitting them out. You took her face in your hand and stroked her cheekbone with your thumb. She sniffed. 

“He said he’d call off the hunt for Joel and let you go if I cooperated with him and I thought about it…” 

“Oh honey,” you touched your forehead to hers as she stared at her lap. “We aren’t your responsibility…” 

She nodded a little and you sat back from her a little. 

“I knew you’d say something like that,” she laughed once, darkly. “Knew Joel’d be pissed that I even considered it… So I broke David’s fucking finger instead.” 

You laughed once and smiled a little. 

“Good girl,” you said. She looked a little proud of that. 

“They didn’t like that so…” she took another shaky breath and stiffened a bit, her small hands clenching into fists. “They tried to kill me, like they were going to eat me… I bit David, told him I was infected, used my scar…” 

“That was so smart, Baby Girl,” you said when she felt quiet. “You did so damn good…” 

“He didn’t really believe me,” she shrugged. “Not after a minute. I… I killed the man he was with and ran and he followed me and… Doc, he…” 

She swallowed a sob and your hand slid from her face to the back of her neck, holding her gently. 

“It’s OK sweetheart,” you said softly. “You’re OK…” 

“He tried…” she choked on the words for a moment. “He said he was going to keep me, that he liked the fighting…” 

“Oh honey,” you were trying not to cry for her, for this girl you should have been there to protect and instead you let them take you away from her. 

“I killed him,” she sniffed, meeting your eyes for the first time since she’d started talking. “Before he could do anything, I… I more than killed him. He didn’t have a face anymore and it… I…” 

You tugged her against you and she pressed her face into your shoulder as you rocked her gently, running one hand up and down her back. 

“You’re OK now,” you said softly as you held onto her. “You’re safe. It’s OK…” 

She cried there for a minute before she pulled back from you again. You held her face in your hand, drying her tears with your thumb. 

“None of that is your fault, OK?” You said gently. “You did what you had to do - what they MADE you do - to protect yourself. There was nothing you could have done. It was always up to them. They were monsters and you did what you have to do to monsters and that’s OK.” 

She nodded and wiped her face with her shirtsleeves. 

“Doc?” She said, her voice wet. 

“Yes, Baby Girl?” 

“What if…” her voice broke for a moment. “What if part of me… liked it? Liked hurting him? Because… I…” 

She trailed off but kept her eyes on you, wide and pleading. 

“That’s OK,” you said quietly. “It’s OK if protecting yourself made you feel good. That’s OK. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you liked hurting an actual bad person who deserved whatever you did to them and more. OK?” 

She sniffed and nodded and she leaned forward, against you. 

“I don’t want to do that again,” she sniffed. “I really fucking don’t…” 

“I know,” you said softly, holding her close. “I’m so sorry you had to do it then. We’re going to make sure you don’t need to do it again. We’re going to take care of you, we’re going to protect you. We won’t let anything happen to you.” 

She sniffed and nodded and you held her for a while longer. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked quietly eventually. “Any better now that you’ve talked about it?” 

“A little, I think,” she sniffed and straightened. “What time is it? Time to switch watch?” 

“Not yet,” you lied with a soft smile. “Go back to sleep for a bit, OK?” 

She nodded and lay down, curling in on herself a bit. You stayed close to her for a bit, waiting for the cadence of her breaths to shift to sleep. You watched her like that, her face peaceful and relaxed. 

You should have been there to protect her. Should have been there to make sure no one came close to touching her. Should have made sure she didn’t need to kill anybody. That had been why you’d wanted to come with her to begin with, to protect her from what you knew was out here in the way you hadn’t been able to protect Jessica all those years before. Ellie was alive but you hadn’t kept her safe, not really. The failure of it sank through your chest and into your stomach like lead. You hadn’t done your job and it was Ellie who would need to suffer the consequences. 

You let Ellie and Joel rest, leaning back against a tree, watching them both. They were so much more fragile than either of them would admit to being, both of them hurting from the worst things that life could do to a person while trying so hard to be strong. It threatened to swallow them. You weren’t great with a gun or a knife, you weren’t good at hurting and killing and all the things the apocalypse seemed to demand of survivors. But you were good at taking care of people, at helping them. You could take care of them in the ways they needed, help them find their way back to the versions of themselves that were buried deep under the rubble of this life. You could spend your existence doing that, you thought, and it would be enough for a full life. Loving them through it all would be enough.

*** 

If Ellie had been more herself, Joel would have started the day by chewing you out. You were still awake when the sun came up, clearly tired but keeping your eyes open, on guard. 

But Ellie was distant and detached when she woke up a few minutes later, only answering questions with a shrug and staying close to your side. 

“You gonna tell me what happened last night?” He asked, voice low, when Ellie stepped away for a bathroom break. You were on the edge of the city now, so close to your final destination. It settled like a stone in his stomach, the bile of uncertainty and change setting him on edge.

“Not my thing to tell,” you smiled a little sadly at him. “But I’ve got it covered. It’s OK.” 

“Don’t like you stayin’ up all night,” he grumbled. “Pushin’ yourself too hard…” 

“But it’s fine when you do it?” You asked, brows raised. 

“My reaction time with a gun when I’m half asleep is better than yours when you’re wide awake,” he said flatly. 

“Well I didn’t need the gun so it’s a moot point,” you replied, a little smug. “But pick a fight with me about it later, when we’re in for the night. Ellie…” 

He nodded once. It was a day where the kid needed extra care and attention. He still wasn’t sure what caused it but he saw the signs of it. You and Joel hadn’t really talked about it but you both saw it happening. You’d trade off trying to engage with her, trying to make sure she wasn’t closing herself off too much, trying to get her to eat something and drink enough water. It gave Joel a new appreciation for what Tommy must have done for him in the early days of the outbreak, just after he lost Sarah. He was only alive because of your voice in his head and his brother’s kindness. 

“Here we go,” Joel said, coming out of a camper he’d been rummaging through for supplies. “We can play this tonight. Want to kick my ass at something besides poker, this is it…” 

He held up a copy of Boggle. Ellie just kind of nodded. 

“Kicking your ass is fun,” you said, looking at her as you said it. “And I bet we could get him to make things interesting…” 

That at least caught her attention and she raised her eyebrows at you. 

“I learned the other day that he’s willing to put an a-cappella performance of a song on the line,” you said. “We could experience a live, one night only, Joel Miller musical event…” 

Ellie smiled a little at that. 

“I’ll let you bet that,” Joel said, just happy to get some sign of life out of the girl. He’d be willing to be a lot to make that happen. “Gonna have to put something good on the line yourselves though, big risk for me…” 

“First choice on canned goods for a week?” You asked. 

“I’ll take that,” Joel said, glancing down at Ellie as the three of you continued on. Her smile had faded already. He shared a look with you, the shadows of Salt Lake City looming over you. 

“Well there’s a tall building there…” Joel said, looking up at it, trying to gauge its structural integrity. 

“So we’re going to cut through that building there, go up the tall one and take a look around?” Ellie said, voice flat. 

“Well, actually,” Joel said. “I found some dynamite back there. Figured we blast our way through and then…” 

“Shit, really?” She looked up at him. 

“No,” he smiled a little. “We’re gonna do what you said. But my way would’ve been fun, right?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled a little back. It didn’t reach her eyes. 

Joel led the way through the building, keeping an eye out for some sign of humanity - or infected. But there wasn’t much of anything. 

“Didn’t realize it was this bad out west,” you said as you picked your way through the rubble of the structure. “I know I had no reason to but I always kind of thought the east coast got the worst of it…” 

“Dallas didn’t fair well, either,” Joel said. “Didn’t stay there long, that’s for damn sure, but half the fuckin’ city was a crater. Texas Stadium was in one piece, they were tryin’ to set up somethin’ there when we cut through but half the buildings were gone.” 

“I wonder what other countries did,” you said. “If they did the same things we did or if they did something different and if they did any better in the long run…” 

Joel spotted a ladder on a ledge and a possible way up and through. 

“Hey, Ellie,” he said, distracting her from her tracing patterns in the dust with the toe of her shoe. She looked up. “Think that might be the route. If I give you a boost, can you get that ladder down here for us?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded with a tight smile, coming over to him. “Boost away.” 

She climbed up him, stepping off his leg to his hands to his shoulders as she clambered up. She started lowering the ladder down when something got her attention. 

“Oh wow…” 

She dropped the ladder and it fell with a clatter to the ground, you jumping forward to try to catch it before it hit Joel. You missed. 

“Jesus, Ellie!” He called after her, scrambling for the ladder. You backed up, looking up to the space above with a frown. 

“Can’t see her,” you said as he got the ladder set. 

“Better not be gettin’ herself killed,” he muttered, rushing up the ladder with you close behind. 

“Guys, come on!” She yelled as Joel pulled you up the rest of the way. You both looked at each other for a moment. This was easily the most excited you’d heard her since Silver Lake. You weren’t about to argue. “Hurry! We’re gonna fuckin’ miss it!” 

You and Joel both ran after the sound of her voice and found her standing at the edge of the broken side of the building, a giraffe standing in front of her, watching her with almost as much curiosity as she was watching it. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed, a wide smile spreading over your face. 

“Don’t scare it!” Ellie looked over her shoulder to the two of you. 

“We’re not,” Joel said, slowly and cautiously breaking off some greenery that had started taking over the dilapidated building. He held it out to Ellie and she took it. “Go slow…” 

She smiled and held the twig out. Joel broke off another one for you and you took it, watching as the animal wrapped its tongue around Ellie’s leaves. 

“Woah!” She looked at you. “You see that?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, sounding oddly choked up. “Their tongues can be almost 2 feet long, they use them for reaching high up leaves…” 

Joel looked at you and you shrugged. 

“Elizabeth was learning about giraffes when we left,” you said. “She was telling me all about them. She thought the tongues were particularly cool…” 

“Because they are,” Ellie said, voice full of wonder. “Hey there!” 

The giraffe apparently decided she had enough and started off, Ellie following along the edge of the building, you and Joel trailing behind her until she stopped at another gaping hole in the structure. Giraffes roamed the grounds below, long necks bobbing as they walked. 

“So cool,” She breathed, smiling. It reached her eyes this time. “Can’t believe people wouldn’t travel just to have a chance at seeing shit like this…” 

Joel looked out over the city, spotting what he thought would be a good route to try for the hospital and just watching Ellie and you enjoy the giraffes. You stayed up there until they were all gone, the ground below just grass now. 

“C’mon,” Joel said. “Should keep movin’.” 

Ellie kept the glow after the giraffes for a bit, but it was easy to see it start to fade. The wonder and joy couldn’t stay forever, not in a world like this one, not in a place like this. 

But it could in Jackson. If it could stick around anywhere, it was there. 

“You know,” he said as the three of you walked. “We tried, the three of us. We really tried to find the Fireflies, get you this far…” 

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded. 

“Found the first spot without their help,” he continued. “But they’d left. Lookin’ for this one now and not seein’ much of a sign of ‘em…” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“Probably just trying to hid from raiders or FEDRA or some shit,” she said. “That’s what we do.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Joel nodded. “But…” 

Ellie stopped walking and turned to face him. 

“But what?” 

“Baby Girl,” Joel looked at her, this girl who had - in the span of just a few months - become as central to his being as you were. He sighed. “You’ve done so much. You don’t need to do any more. We can just turn around, go back to Jackson. We can do it right now…” 

“And do what?” She frowned. 

“Just live,” you said. “You don’t have to do anything else but that, sweetheart. I promise, you don’t. You don’t owe the world a damn thing…” 

“But everything we’ve done,” she said. “Everything I’ve done… It has to mean something, right? It has to be for a reason. It can’t… It can’t all be for nothing.” 

“It kept you alive,” you said. “That’s all it’s ever been about…” 

“I’ve been given this… thing,” she said. “I’m special, right Doc? No one else is out there like me?” 

“That I know of,” you nodded. “Yeah. But that’s true even if you weren’t immune, kiddo…” 

“I can’t not use it,” she shook her head. “I mean, Doc, you’ve always said we’re here to love people. How am I supposed to do that if I could save the world and I just… don’t?” 

“It’s not supposed to be at the expense of yourself, Baby Girl,” you said gently. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us there but…” 

“But we should find out,” she said. “If I can save people… I want to. I’m special for a reason, right? It has to be for a reason, all of this has to be for a reason.” 

She turned to keep walking and the desperation spread through Joel so fast he spoke without fully thinking. 

“I was the one who missed.” 

Ellie froze before turning around, looking at him. He took a deep breath but kept going. 

“No one shot at me ‘cept me,” he said. “I was the one who missed.” 

You stepped closer to him and slipped your hand into his. 

“What…” Ellie’s voice trailed off. 

“Sarah died,” he said and he looked at you. “Thought she was gone, too….” He looked back at Ellie. “Didn’t seem worth it. I wanted to be done. I was sure, never been more sure of anything in my damn life so I…” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I flinched,” he said. “Part of me… part of me knew I’d find her again…” He gave your hand a squeeze. “But that wasn’t enough. Not for a long time… Anyway, what I’m tryin’ to tell you…” 

“I know what you’re trying to tell me,” she said, giving him a tight smile. “So time really does heal all wounds?” 

“Wasn’t time that did it,” he said. “Baby Girl, you’re enough all on your own, immune or no. You don’t need to do another damn thing, you just keep livin’ and that’s enough.” 

She watched him for a moment. 

“I’m really glad that didn’t work out, Joel,” she said quietly. “But we should keep going.” 

He nodded slowly and Ellie turned to head further into the city. You pressed a kiss to the scar at his temple and he took a deep, shaky breath. 

“If we haven’t found ‘em by tomorrow…” he said. 

“I know,” you said softly. 

The two of you caught up with her quickly. 

“I think this calls for some shitty puns,” Joel said. 

“Excellent puns, you mean,” you corrected him. 

“You asked for it,” Ellie smiled, slinging her backpack around to her front and grabbing the book out. 

“Oh this is good,” she looked at the two of you. “People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow!” 

Joel smiled and shook his head and you snorted. 

“Not too soon?” She asked, turning the page. 

“That’s just topical,” Joel said. 

“I think I need a new line of work,” you said, looking at Ellie. “And making mirrors is something I could really see myself doing…” 

“Ohhhh,” she groaned. “That one’s so bad!” 

“Is it?” You crinkled your nose. 

“Here’s one,” Ellie said. “One of my favorites, you’ll have to guess why… Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Know why?” 

“Why?” Joel asked. 

“Because they’re meteor!” 

“No,” Joel shook his head as Ellie laughed. “Uh-uh, that one’s bad…” 

“That one’s perfect!” She replied. “It’s a pun and it’s about space, you literally cannot get better than that.” 

“That’s a three of 10,” Joel said. “And that’s bein’ generous.” 

“What!” She shook her head. “No way, at least a six, probably an eight….” 

Joel only heard the canister hit the ground because he turned his head to look at you, the clatter of the metal on the pavement making him pause. 

“What…” you began but Joel moved fast, grabbing your arm and Ellie’s and throwing you both behind him just as the canister exploded. 

The last thing he heard was you screaming his name before he passed out. 

A/N: Yup. We're here. We're too this point.

Canon is going to diverge next chapter as we close in on the end of this story but get ready for *drumroll* FERAL JOEL!

Because next chapter is all Feral Joel all the time.

And we love that for us.

There is a taglist if you'd like to be added BUT we're really closing in on the end here. I think this story will be wrapped by the end of the month. I will add you if you'd like, however!

Thank you for being here and sticking with this story! I've loved every second of this adventure with you. Love you!!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat @ashleymsnodgrass @karlinspace

[atinylittlepain]

June - Part Four

Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, smut, angst, but also a whole lot of love to be had

..........................................

Rising over the tide

Oh, hold me tight

I'm scared I might fall

Just like the water below

You don't get to know

If your love has all

It's gonna take

"Hearts Aglow" by Weyes Blood

...........................................

“Do you not want me in your room any more?”

“What? No. Why’d you ask that?” A jut of her chin to the sealant in his hands, her eyes glancing at the window behind him.

“Oh. No, June. Just wanted to fix this before it gets any colder out.”

“Hmm.” Chin resting in her palm, her knees tucked up for her elbows to prop on, feet curled over the edge of the mattress. 

“They’re gonna let me take patrol shifts again.” He stills in his work. She’s just tucked a grenade into his palms, he knows it. And he knows she’s waiting to see if there will be an explosion.

“Okay. Do you think that’s a good idea?” Wrong, wrong, wrong. She scoffs.

“Do you?” 

“Can I be frank?” 

“Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why?”

“I just don’t.” 

“Well what would you have me do?” 

“I don’t know. Anything else.” 

“Hmm.” He’s learned that sound can mean a lot of things. But it’s clear to him exactly what it conveys in this instance. I’ve already made up my mind, and I don’t like the way you’ve made up yours. He continues to work, smoothing out the sealant, scraping up, down, up, down. His ears prick to her sigh, the mattress creaking as she stands, the dull thud of socked feet slipping out of the room. His shoulders wilt in her absence. He hadn’t given her the answer she wanted. But he wasn’t about to change his mind either.

It hits him all at once, choking up his lungs with the image of her holding a–

The mouth of it pressed to her–

Her finger curled around the–

But she wouldn’t. Right? That’s in the past. All passed, passed, passed. 

She’s going to stay. With him, with him, with him.

…

If he stares at it long enough, maybe it will open. Like an eye, dropped in a perpetual wink, shut, shut, shut. Teasing him, taunting him with its stillness. If he paces, back, forth, back, forth, maybe she will come home sooner, slip through the gate before the next time he blinks. He blinks. Nothing. 

It’s been like this all day. Restless, waiting from the moment she left. He fixed the wobbly porch step, sanded down the rough catch in the railings upstairs, and resealed every other window in the goddamn house. Bad luck, that it’s his day off, nothing to do but wait. Watching the clock until it’d be at least a little acceptable to go hover around the gate. 

Three steps to the left, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt before turning, three steps to the right, repeat, repeat, repeat. He only lets himself glance back over to the gate after four whole rotations. Still nothing. Repeat, repeat, repeat. 

He hears it before he sees it. The groan of metal churning into motion, opening for a small stream of people to slip inside. The squeeze in his chest tightens, tightens, tightens, until he sees her, one of the last ones to come in. Safe, clean, calm. And then Ellie trails in behind her, unexpected. He hadn’t known that both halves of his heart were out there today, sick with the realization now that it’s tucked back into his chest. And they’re talking. They’re talking and Ellie’s smiling and so is she and he’s not sure if he likes that and he’s not sure why he’s not sure. And then Ellie’s eyes catch on him over her shoulder and June’s head whips around too. Both still smiling like they know something he doesn’t. She turns back around, a hand on Ellie’s arm, clear in its care, and Ellie nods, another glance Joel’s way before she’s off in the other direction. 

It’s still strapped around her chest. Thick leather band, and steel on her back. His hands itch to rip it off her and throw it over the gate, to get it as far away from her as possible. Instead, he clenches his fists at his sides, knuckles popping white. 

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. It was quiet out there.”

“Let’s go home.” He doesn’t take her hand, out of fear he might hold it too tight, too hard.

“Ellie is a good kid.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You did good with her.” He stops chopping, knife suspended in the flesh of a potato.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, that’s– I can’t take credit for her like that.”

“That’s not the way she sees it.” She doesn’t look at him, eyes focused on the pan sizzling softly on the stove. But he knows she’s being careful with what she says, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You and her talked today?”

“We walked the same route.”

“I see.”

“I invited her to dinner.” “You what?” “Dinner on Friday. She’s going to come over.” What had been simmering as sour unease now fizzes and pops into something closer to anger. Still not sure why, all he knows is that his feet are moving and she’s saying his name like a question and he’s already slipping out the front door and down the porch step he fixed that morning. Space, he needs space, distance, to steady this ugly feeling in his throat before it catches and spills over her. 

The bar. Let him get swallowed up by sound and people and a few glasses of something strong. And looking into the amber dregs in his glass, he realizes that what felt like anger had actually been the sharp clench of fear. Fear that he won’t be able to stand it, having his heart hinged back together. It’s been easier, keeping a piece for her, and a piece for the kid. Distant, separate, compartments he can step in and out of. 

He’s willing to try. Frankenstein’s creation, let their hands stitch muscle back together, fine threads that will sting with their snap. For them, he’s willing to try.

But he’s already too late. Always too late. The house is dark, yawning, when he returns a few hours later. And she’s gone. Gone, gone, gone. His mind spins with it, blood rushing in his ears, an aching throb in his throat. 

It’s cold out. Always gets so cold, so quick in the fall and she shouldn’t be out there but she is and it’s his fault, his fault, his fault. The laces of his boots are untied, biting at his ankles and he doesn’t care because he needs to find her now.

Before she gets a–

And slips out of the–

And he’ll never get to–

He walks the path she used to take before, trailing the rim of the wall, a hand perpetually clenched over his chest to still the persistent flares of pain. And he probably looks mad, stumbling around in the dark, eyes wide and sweeping.

She’s hunched, legs splayed out in front of her in the crisping grass, shoulders slumped in on themselves. Unblinking, staring straight ahead at the wall. He says her name like a sigh.

Space, he needs to give her space so she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t flee, sitting down with a few paces breathing in between them. He’d give anything for her to look at him right now.

“I wanted to do something for you.” He’s not sure he heard her right, ducking his head down, trying to catch her eyes that she still refuses to give to him.

“Something good, for you. That’s all. I didn’t mean for this.” Her teeth are chattering, words a dull mumble. He’s never going to forgive himself for the way she’s shivering.

Everything in him slackens when she lets him take her hand, stretched out in the space between them. A broken bird with its own stilted heartbeat, the way he cradles her palm in his.

“Let’s go home, June.” Mercifully, she listens, untangling her hand from his to wordlessly stand. And she’s not wearing a coat, and that’s not right, and he needs to fix it, fix it, fix it, already shrugging his off to swallow her up in what warmth he can provide.

She’s quiet, careful, her eyes caught on her hands in her lap. He can see her out of the corner of his eye from where he’s kneeling in front of the bathtub trying to make the water just right, right, right. His coat is still hanging off of her shoulders. She’s still shivering and he wonders how long she had been out there, working it over in his mind until it hurts.

“Can I?” Hands outstretched, she willingly steps into them, letting him peel away each layer of clothing, revealing skin taut in a close shake. He keeps her hand in his as she steps over the lip of the tub, sinking slowly with a sigh until her shoulders slip under. The shiver starts to smooth.

“I didn’t mean to, Joel.” 

“No, you didn’t. I’m the one who fucked up.”

“You’re mad.”

“Not at you.” Never at you. Words he tries to press into the arch of her knee breaking just above the water, his palm slipping down the slope of her shin and back up, his shirt-sleeve soaked with how sorry he is.

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” 

“I just wanted you to have something good.”

“I know, June. It is good. I wasn’t thinking right.” I’m sorry, so, so, so sorry. He can’t get the words out of his throat, settling for a low hum as she slips deeper down, water flickering against her chin.

“Warming up?” 

“Hmm.” Her eyes have fluttered shut, skin going sticky with the heat. And all he can do is rest his chin on the lip of the tub, slumped down against the side, his hand settled on her shin, constant and calming.

“So dinner?” One eye, then the other, cracking open.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” 

“I am, I am. Thank you, June.”

…

Wings, bright and beating all along his ribs. Something nervous, something good. Both at the same time. It’s getting darker earlier and earlier, the kitchen washed orange and yellow to keep out the purpling night. And they’re both here, both here, sitting at the table with him, eating something warm and rich and talking easy. He didn’t even have to try. It was simple.

“She’s alright, old man.” 

“Yeah, she is.” On the porch, hands shoved deep into pockets. A tentative goodnight.

“How’s Dina?” “She’s good.”

“Good.”

“I’ll bring her next time, if that’s okay.” Next time, next time, next time.

“Of course, kid. I’d like that.” 

“Cool.”

“You taking care of yourself?”

“I am. Are you?”

“I am.”

“That’s good, old man. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, kid. Goodnight.” A quick little thing, her hands still tucked in her coat, hooking her elbow around his back for a halfway embrace. He tries not to smile too much at it. 

It buoys him, light, light, light. Ease, her calves draped over his lap while she reads at the other end of the couch. Thicker socks, finally. 

“Thank you, June.” Faded pages lower, wide eyes and parted lips revealed.

“Ellie likes you.”

“Hmm.”

“She doesn’t like most people.”

“I like her too. She’s a no-bullshit type.” Nothing but fondness, a flower that roots down deep and unfurls up his throat at her words.

“Yeah, she is.”

“She gets it from you.”

“Yeah, she does.” Fingers curl, a tug, only a little greedy, the tendons in her ankle jumping beneath his palm. Slow slippage in the way she slinks over to him, settling down over his thighs, the spine of her book cracked and warped from the way she left it. A wolfish curve to the smile he kisses her with, sharp, seeking, an edge that she’s happy to meet, to run the tip of her tongue along, a flicker of pleasure. 

He has half a mind to reach back, fumble with the faded curtain, shutter the window tight. Just them, just this. The close tangle of muscle, threads unfurling to welcome in heat. Hands that snap and seek under fabric. Always so cold, cold, cold, her fingers making his stomach tense where they slip beneath the band of his jeans. And she’s a sight, slipping down from his lap to kneel between his legs and he’s not going to survive this. The swell of her cheek pressed against his thigh, her smile crumpled to the side and her hand on him suddenly so warm he can feel it rising up his neck. 

She’s not precious about it, purposeful in the pleasure she pulls from him, a shuddering drag when she takes him into her mouth. Her palms splay, nails digging down into the heat of his thighs and all he can do is sigh at the feeling skittering beneath his skin. His, his, his. His woman and her wide, wild eyes, blown out so dark, flickering beneath the wings of her lashes. His woman and the snarl she softens just for him, the quick pink of her tongue hiding the sharp silver of her teeth.

“Come here.” Please, please, please. In the way his hands hook under her arms, insistent, the both of them turning snappy about it, sharp sighs when she finally settles around him, her spine snaring with the stretch. And they move like they always do, arms wrapped close and tight, snaking and seeking skin until they’re both bare, pressed in each other’s heat. 

“Let me see, June.” Murmured into her temple, coaxing her face out from the crook of his neck just in time to see the pull of her brow, the way her lips part around a cry of his name. His, his, his. Fluttering down around him, her arms a gentle cage around his shoulders. They break into a million pieces for each other, again and again and again.

And what’s left is the press and pull of his chest against hers, the way her lips rest against the pulse of life beneath his jaw. Right there.

Beating, beating, beating.

...............................................

taglist (folks who asked and a few folks who i just thought would like to be, lmk if you want added or dropped) : @thetriumphantpanda @suzmagine @casa-boiardi @hollywoodcaligirl @kelp-dreaming @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @tieronecrush @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @darkroastjoel

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Teacher (Part 4).

CHAPTER TITLE: Flashbacks

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader (female, first person POV) Summary: Your relationship with Joel develops.  Word Count: 5,240 Author's Note: So, we’re definitely gonna dive a bit more deeper into the Reader’s history after the outbreak, so please be wary! Warnings are listed below. We’re in for an angsty chapter, but I promise it ends on a good note. (btw, this chapter definitely got way too ahead of me lol, enjoy) Warning: Mention of implied rape, killing, violence

Maria had visited you the following day. While Joel brought you comfort, so did Maria. You wondered if it was because she saved your life; though, she had always been so welcoming and understanding since the moment you met her. She never put any unnecessary pressure on you to open up or discuss things you weren’t ready to talk about. 

“So,” she began with a smile. “You and Joel seem to hit it off.”

You blushed instantly, trying to hide your feelings for the man. “He’s nice,” was all you said.

“Just nice?” Maria chuckled.

“He’s becoming a good friend,” you smiled. 

Maria gave you a knowing look, her head tilting in amusement. “Well, you must be really special.” 

“Why’s that?”

“Joel just doesn’t normally like to make friends,” Maria admitted. “It’s like he’s a different man when you’re around though. I mean, I’ve never seen him smile or laugh this much and I’ve known the man for years.”

You blush deepened and you shrugged a shoulder. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Maria nodded with a smile. “Oh my god, are you kidding? It’s the greatest thing. He’s less of a grouch.”

You laughed to yourself as your mind drifted to Joel. You had only been at Jackson for a couple of days and already, you had developed a crush on your next door neighbor. 

“Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome,” you teased. 

Maria laughed at that, leaning back against the couch. “Aside from that, how are you doing?”

You cleared your throat, dropping your eyes for a moment. “Doing okay.”

“You sure?”

“I just–” You sighed. “I’m still getting used to everything. You and your father built this amazing place and don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful, but it’s just– It’s a lot.”

“That’s understandable,” Maria replied. “Everyone has their own process… You had been out there by yourself for a while so being here, in a place like Jackson, it can be overwhelming.”

You nodded in agreement. “I’m grateful, Maria. I am–”

She gave you a small smile. “Move at your own pace. Trust me, we want you to be comfortable here and we want you to feel safe. So, however long that takes, so be it. Just– Don’t rush it.”

You sighed, glancing over at her. You could see the genuine look on her face; her eyes were soft, displaying an emotion of empathy, and you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Thank you, Maria. I think once I start teaching, Jackson will start to feel like home.”

Maria nodded, “With that being said, I wanted to give you some updates.”

Your interest piqued and you listened intently. “Oh?”

“We’re building the classrooms right now and we’re deciding to put it in the middle of the community. There are plenty of parents who work around that general area, so it seemed like the best place to have the school,” Maria began. “We’re also going to have a meeting with the families next week so that they can meet you, you can meet them, and you can also meet the kiddos.”

You grinned as your mind drifted to the upcoming week. You figured that once you started meeting the kids and started teaching that you wouldn’t be so on edge; you hoped that Jackson would at least start feeling like a place where you could finally start living again. 

“I’m excited,” you replied. “I really can’t wait.”

“How do you feel about coming with me to the bar tonight?” Maria asked. “No pressure though.”

“Maybe for one drink.” 

She grinned. “Great. I’ll see you tonight.”

—

Later that night, you walked into the bar and noticed Maria immediately. You were wearing your boots with white fitted shirt tucked in with your light washed jeans and a flannel on top. She handed you a beer as you sat on a stool near the counter, looking around with a smile. 

It was cozy. There were string lights hanging from the ceiling, music filtering through the room, but you noticed how warm and welcoming it felt. Plenty of people had come up to introduce themselves, even meeting some of the parents and expressing their excitement for the school opening up. It started to feel like you were part of this community and you felt all anxiety and worries disappear when you started to get more comfortable. 

“Having fun?” Maria asked, leaning against the counter of the bar as she noticed you were halfway finished with your beer. 

“Surprisingly, yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you for inviting me out.”

“Anytime,” she grinned, pointing towards your beer. “Want another one?”

You shook your head. “One’s enough, thank you.”

Maria nodded and then grabbed your hand, motioning towards the dance floor. “You dance?”

“It’s been a while,” you replied, following her eagerly. “I might make a fool out of myself.”

Maria laughed and kept a hold of your hand. “Don’t we all?” 

“Fair point.” When she released your hand, you let your body sway to the music. The effects of the alcohol were burning through your veins, allowing you to fully calm down and just embrace the moment. Just a couple of days ago, you were so sure that you were going to die, but then Maria saved you and here you were, feeling surprisingly content and happy. 

“You can dance!” She exclaimed, her arms raising in the air as she danced to the music as well. 

You smiled, downing the rest of your beer and setting it on the counter. Returning to the dance floor, you shut your eyes and continued to sway, moving your hips rhythmically to the beat of the song. 

Tommy and Joel had walked into the bar with a groan. Their patrol was easy, but tiring. There were no signs of any Infected or any threats, so it was a good day. When they entered the building though, both men were surprised to see a crowd forming in the middle of the dance floor.

“That’s new,” Tommy said, ordering two beers. 

“Hm,” Joel said. “I’m only havin’ one beer and then I’m callin’ it a night. My back hurts.”

Tommy laughed to himself, handing his older brother a beer and shaking his head. “Alright, old man. One beer, that’s all.” 

Joel shut his eyes for a moment, taking a long swig of his beer as he felt himself slowly relax. Though, when he heard Tommy gasp, Joel opened his eyes to look over at his brother.

“What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, pointing to the dance floor. 

Joel turned his attention to the dance floor, his eyes immediately finding you. Though, his eyes drifted to the rest of your body, watching your hips move expertly to the song that was playing in the room. He grabbed his beer and took another long swig as he forced himself to look away.

“Looks like she’s havin’ fun,” Tommy smiled. “And she’s havin’ fun with my girl.”

Joel just nodded.

“Joel,” Tommy said, nudging his brother. 

“I should get goin’,” Joel said, eyes flickering over to you.

“Oh, come on. You know you don’t wanna leave.”

“Well, she’s havin’ fun and I don’t wanna–”

Tommy shook his head, calling out Maria’s name. You looked over at the sound of Tommy’s voice and immediately noticed Joel. Your cheeks had turned red and you removed your flannel once it had gotten a bit too warm. You were smiling though, following Maria to Tommy and Joel. Your eyes though hadn’t left the older man’s; once more, it felt like everyone else in the room had disappeared and the only person you saw was him.

Joel. 

“Hey baby. How was the patrol?” Maria asked, kissing Tommy’s cheek.

Tommy wrapped his arm around Maria, holding her close. “Was fine,” he said. “Nothing too out of the ordinary.” 

Joel didn’t reply. He kept his eyes on you once you were now standing near him. He wanted nothing more than just to sweep you off your feet and take you back home, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. 

“Wanna dance?” Maria asked Tommy, giving her husband a look to signal that they should give you and Joel some space.

“With you? Always. I’ll see you later Joel.” Tommy then turned to you and winked. “Nice moves you got there.”

You blushed, looking over at the younger brother. “It’s no longer a secret.”

Maria chuckled. “Now I’m wondering what else you got hiding.”

You laughed, shaking your head as the couple moved to the dance floor. Turning your attention back to Joel, you noticed how he was avoiding your eyes, sipping at his beer. 

“Um,” you started. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

“Me too.” Joel replied. “How are you?” 

“Feeling really good,” you smiled. “Though, that may be the alcohol.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Just one beer,” you blushed. “I’m a lightweight.”

Joel chuckled. “Well, good to know. It’s good to see you havin’ fun.”

You nodded. “All thanks to Maria. She invited me out tonight.”

“That’s good,” Joel said, finishing his beer. He cleared his throat and motioned towards the door. “Well, have a good night.”

You furrowed your brow, pulling your flannel back on. “Wait, what?”

“I told Tommy I was just havin’ one drink and then I’m headin’ home.”

You bit your lower lip anxiously. “Would you be surprised if I told you that I told Maria the same thing?”

Joel’s eyes widened just slightly and when he looked you over, he noticed that you weren’t holding another bottle. So, he assumed that you were also now ready to go home. 

“Want some company on your walk home?” Joel asked.

“I’d like that.”

Maria and Tommy watched the both of you leave the bar and they turned to each other with a grin.

“They’re good for each other,” Maria told Tommy.

“Just as long as Joel gets outta his head,” Tommy replied.

—

The walk home was quiet, but you both were taking your time getting home. There was no rush and you enjoyed each other’s company anyway.

“So,” Joel began. “You mentioned last night that you were married.”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I was, yeah.”

“Lucky man,” Joel commented.

You blushed, looking up at him as he kept his eyes forward. “You remind me of him actually.”

He arched a brow, glancing over at you. “That so?”

You both stopped walking once you were at your porch, turning to face each other. It was a quiet night, the outdoor string lights illuminating both of your features just right. Joel’s hands were in his pockets and your arms were crossed over your chest. 

You looked up at him, staring into his dark brown eyes. You wanted nothing more than to just kiss him, to feel his lips, to feel safe again.

“Yeah,” you replied. “You make me feel safe, Joel.”

Joel cleared his throat, looking down at you. He inched closer, taking his hand from his pocket to move a strand of hair away from your face. His hand lingered on your cheek as his thumb gently brushed against your soft skin. He smiled, feeling you lean against his touch. 

“M’glad,” he whispered. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

Suddenly, you took a step back. The look on your face shifted instantly and it was no longer a look of desire, of want, but was replaced with a look of fear. You weren’t looking at Joel anymore. Instead, you were looking at a different man. A man from your past and when Joel took a step closer, you immediately raised your hands up.

“Don’t.”

“Darlin’–” 

“I said don’t,” you repeated. “Get away from me.”

Joel’s brows furrowed, but he stopped himself from moving closer to you. He didn’t know what caused the drastic shift, but he hated the way you were looking at him. The fear in your eyes, but the threatening stance you were in… It was like you were a different person. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.” 

“You don’t get to hurt me again,” you mumbled, dropping your hands to your sides as it curled into fists. Tears were filling your eyes and Joel was at a loss. He didn’t know how to calm you down, how to make you see that you were safe and that whoever you were seeing wasn’t reality. 

“Darlin’,” Joel repeated. “You’re in Jackson, okay? You’re safe. Ain’t no one gonna hurt you, I promise.” 

“Stop!” You exclaimed, looking around frantically. You were vulnerable and when you realized you didn’t have any weapons, you kept taking a step back to further your distance. It wasn’t until you tripped over your own feet that you had fallen backwards, passing out in the process.

“Shit,” Joel mumbled. He scooped you up into his arms and brought you inside your home, looking around quickly. He gently set you on the sofa and grabbed a match to light up a candle. It was too dark, even for him, so once the candle was lit, he set it on the coffee table and sighed. He didn’t know what had just happened and he wasn’t sure if he should even stay, but Joel couldn’t help but stare at you. 

You were sleeping, but you didn’t look peaceful. Your lips were formed into a pout and your brows were furrowed together. You had curled up into a ball once Joel set you on the couch and he could hear your quiet mumbling. It pained him to see you like this, especially since just an hour ago, you were dancing, smiling, and having fun. 

Joel opted to stay, at least until you woke up. His back was killing him and he was exhausted, but you were far more important than sleep at the moment. He had to wonder how often your flashbacks occurred; he was fortunate to have had someone nearby, whether it was Tess, Tommy, or Ellie. He wasn’t ever alone and it put a lot of things into perspective when he found out that you had been on your own for over a year. He couldn’t imagine it. 

It had been a couple of hours later when you awoke. You sat up in a quick motion, looking around the room and noticing the single candle that illuminated the living room. You noticed Joel had fallen asleep on the single loveseat, realizing what had happened. You felt embarrassed; you had tried to keep the negative parts of your past to yourself, but Joel had managed to see it firsthand. 

You tried to think about what had triggered you. You knew you were both sharing a moment. You remembered the feel of his hand on your cheek and how you had willingly leaned against his touch. Then, you remembered what he said.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

To anyone else, it could have been sweet and special, but to you, it brought back memories of a past that you had tried to forget. It had been a year after you left the QZ in Washington, stumbling upon a group who had been happy to take you in. You kept your guard up though, making sure to keep your head down and contribute in any way that you can. 

But the leader. The leader had a thing for you. 

He had cornered you one night and said those same words. You could still remember the sound of his voice, the feel of his body forcefully against yours, the pain you felt when he hit you every time you tried to scream for help… It was something you would never forget and hearing Joel say those words had practically transported you back to that moment. 

You slowly stood from the sofa, trying to quietly tiptoe down the hallway, but you didn’t get far. Joel had woken up and called your name in such a soft tone that you immediately looked over at him.

“I–I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

Joel stood with a low grunt, walking over to you slowly. “Ain’t gotta apologize.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” you mumbled. “It was– It was just my shit coming back and I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Joel stood in front of you. He understood exactly what that meant, and experienced it almost every night. “Hey…”

You bit your lip, bringing your eyes up at him. “Joel–”

“I’m here,” he replied. “For you.”

“Joel, you barely know me… We just met and–”

“You make me feel alive again,” Joel blurted out. He brought a hand to rub the back of his neck, sighing quietly. “M’sorry if that’s a bit too forward, but–”

Your response was to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. His scent filled your senses, causing your eyes to fall shut. When his arms moved around to wrap around your waist, you held onto him tighter. 

Joel was taken by surprise when he felt your body press against his and your arms wrap around his frame. It didn’t take long before his arms wrapped around you as well, which caused him to feel your arms tighten around him. It was comforting, holding you this way and inhaling your scent. It felt like home. 

He then buried his face against the side of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin. Joel could have held you like this forever. 

You let out a shaky breath when you felt him move to bury himself against your neck. You felt his facial hair tickle your skin and his hot breath breathing against you. You had only known Joel for a couple of days and yet, this felt normal; it felt like you belonged here, in his arms. 

You hadn’t felt this safe in so long. 

You both stayed in each other’s arms for a few more minutes before you slowly pulled back. Your arms remained around his shoulders and his hands moved to rest on your hips. The distance between you both were mere inches and you could feel his breath against you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Anythin’ for a friend.” 

Friend. 

“You should probably get home.” You said, pulling away from him and immediately missing his warmth and his strong arms around you.

Joel nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “You gonna be okay?” 

“I will be. I’ve survived this long,” you let a small smile line your lips. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’m just right next door. Don’t hesitate to come over if you need anythin’, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Before Joel left, he pulled you into another hug, his eyes falling shut as he felt his entire body relax. It had been so long since he felt this way, but there was just something about you that made every concern, doubt, and worry that Joel felt, disappear. 

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

You smiled against him, reveling in this moment. “Goodnight, Joel.”

—

It had been two weeks since that incident. You were slowly getting used to Jackson, now feeling like a part of the community. You still had nightmares, which happened more often than you liked to admit, but you kept it to yourself. Even when Joel asked how you were doing everyday, you had lied to him and said everything was great. You were glad he didn’t pry even further, simply just nodding and going about his day.

Since that night, it seemed like you and Joel had gotten closer. When he had the early morning patrols, he would come by your house with Ellie for dinner that it had become a routine for the three of you. You enjoyed their company though and Ellie knew just exactly how to get your mind off things; she was truly a breath of fresh air and you always found yourself laughing and having a good time with the young girl.

The school was finished; two rooms connected with a variety of small tables and chairs in each room. You had already met the parents and the children, thoroughly excited to start teaching again. You were going to teach all ages, but you had found that there were more younger kids than there were older ones. It seemed like most of the students you were going to teach would be around five to six years old with a small group of ten to twelve year olds. 

You had started teaching and it gave you a sense of purpose and reminded you so much of the old world. It was tough in the beginning, but once you settled into a routine, the kids had found it so enjoyable. You ended every day in the reading corner that you created. All of your students gathered around you, listening intently as you read to them; each day was a different book, but your students were so engaged.

You always stayed until each of your students were picked up by their parents or family members. One day, however, a little girl stayed later than usual. She was sitting at the table, drawing on a piece of paper when you walked over to her.

“Hi Rosie,” you smiled. Her hair was curly, messy, and sat on her shoulders. She looked up at you and flashed you a toothless grin. She had told you all about losing her front teeth and how excited she was that she was now getting bigger. 

She called you by your name with the Miss in front of it and then lifted the piece of paper for you to see.

“I drew a picture.”

“I see that, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s Jackson,” she grinned proudly.

“Looks exactly like it,” you smiled.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps running into the room. You looked up and noticed it was Rosie’s father. He was out of breath and had begun to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. Rosie grinned at the sight of her father, raising her arms to be picked up. “Patrol ran late.”

“No worries. Rosie here was just drawing a picture,” you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For staying with her. Having this school– It’s been a relief.”

You nodded. The other man was a bit older than you, taller, and definitely muscular. He had blue eyes, brown hair, and dimples whenever he smiled. He was handsome, but he definitely was no Joel Miller. 

“I’m glad,” you replied. “It’s been great to teach again.”

“I’m Jack. Rosie’s dad.” Rosie was already resting her head against her father’s shoulder, her eyes falling shut. 

“I remember,” you said. “We met during the meeting with the other parents.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s just been–” Jack sighed. “It’s been tough. Patrols are getting tougher. We’re encountering more infected…”

“Well, if you’d like, I don’t mind staying a bit longer with Rosie until you get back to Jackson after patrols.” You offered as your mind drifted to what he had said. Infected. You had killed plenty: clickers, runners, stalkers, even encountered a Bloater once, and it still terrified you. 

“Really?” He asked. “I mean, that’d be great, but you don’t have to. I can figure it out and–”

You shook your head, taking the drawing that Rosie had done and handing it to Jack. “I don’t mind, really. It’s okay.”

Jack smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re amazing. I owe you.”

You simply gave him a smile. “I’m your daughter’s teacher. It’s part of my job. Don’t worry about it.”

—

You were surprised to see Joel sitting on your porch once you finally walked home. When he saw you, he gave you a small smile and stood from his seat. You walked up your steps and looked over at him, giving him a tight hug.

“Hi,” you said.

Joel returned the hug and immediately missed your warmth once you pulled away to open the door. “Long day?”

You nodded, though you couldn’t stop thinking about what Jack had mentioned about his patrols. It was brief and not a lot of information, but it was enough for you to start ruminating on. Joel followed you inside and you quickly lit up a few candles to illuminate your living room and he noticed how quiet you had gotten again. It was something he took note of for the past couple of weeks. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. “I’m just tired.”

“Should I go?”

Then, you blurted. “What’s going on outside of Jackson?”

“What?”

“Joel…”

He sighed. “Nothin’. We got it handled.”

“What’s going on?”

“Darlin’, you ain’t gotta worry about it.”

“Well, I am!” You exclaimed, not realizing how loud you had gotten. For weeks, you were putting on a facade, a front, masking your emotions and pushing away the nagging thoughts and flashbacks. 

Joel was taken aback, looking at you with a furrowed brow. “It’s under control.”

“You’re lying,” you said. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.”

Joel sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re safe here, in Jackson.”

“Bullshit,” you spat. 

“What’s really goin’ on?”

“I can’t relax,” you mumbled. “I can’t sleep and when I do, I wake up in a sweat and frantic state.” You admitted. “Teaching is a good distraction, but I just thought– I thought I’d be okay.”

“You are,” he sighed. “I’m tellin’ you the truth. We have it under control.”

“The last time someone told me that our entire group was overrun,” you replied almost immediately. “So please… I can handle the truth.”

“The infected…” Joel let out an exhale. “We’re encounterin’ more of them on our patrols, but darlin’, we do have it under control. It’s just tiring.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“I’m not this fragile little thing that you have to handle with care,” you said. “Stop treating me like I can’t handle myself, like I can’t handle what’s out there. I’ve done it! I’ve experienced it! I was out there, on my own, for over a year!” 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay,” Joel repeated, trying to step closer to you but noticed how you had moved back and away from him.

“You don’t know half the things I’ve done to survive, Joel,” you admitted. “It haunts me… Every second of the day and I can’t run away from it.”

“You did what you had to, to survive,” Joel replied. It was ironic that he was saying the same words that Tommy had told him. Joel understood your dilemma, related exactly to what you were feeling, experiencing, and here you were, being open and vulnerable with him.

“No,” you shook your head. “No.”

“Darlin’...”

“Did you ever stop to think how I made it this far?” You asked. 

“I don’t need to,” he replied. 

“I’ve done so– so many unthinkable things, Joel,” you said with a shaky voice and teary eyes. “I’m so broken…”

“Hey…” Joel hated seeing you like this, hated hearing you talk about yourself like this. “Look at me…”

You looked up at him and felt yourself relax. You had been on edge for weeks and it finally came crashing down. You thought you could push this aside, to force yourself not to think about your past, but it was tough. Your nightmares served as a daily reminder of the things you had done, the people you killed… It was just too much.

“You ain’t alone in feeling like that,” Joel added. He knew that feeling all too well; being broken, damaged goods, and feeling like he didn’t deserve anything good because of the bad things he had done. He took a step closer and sighed in relief when you didn’t move away. “I– I have nightmares too.”

That wasn’t surprising to you. You had heard stories from the people in the community, but truthfully, it didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you feel safer to know that Joel would do anything for the people he cared about. 

“H– How do you deal with it?”

“I don’t,” Joel admitted. “But I probably should.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” You sighed.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. When he felt your arms wrap around his shoulder, Joel moved his arms to wrap around your waist. Once again, he held you like this, feeling your warmth radiate against him and the feel of your chest heaving against his own. 

“Joel,” you whispered to him. “You’re the only one that can calm me down, that can make me feel safe and I don’t know what that means, but–”

He held you tighter, pressing his lips to your temple. Joel sighed contentedly before he quietly interrupted you. “I’m here… I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You pulled back to look up at him. Your lips were mere inches from his and your arms remained around him. “Joel…”

“Hm?” He whispered, moving his hands to your hips. Joel rubbed circles against the fabric of your shirt, feeling it slightly lift upwards as the pads of his thumbs touched your skin.

“Can I– Can I kiss you?” You asked. A blush crept along your neck to your cheeks, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

Joel smiled and moved a hand to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed against your cheek as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. 

It was electrifying, feeling your lips slowly move against his. Joel kept his hand on your cheek and used his free hand to bring you flush against him, his hand moving from your hip to your lower back. 

You had imagined this moment plenty of times and yet, this was far better than your imagination. Joel kept a protective hold around you as you felt yourself mold against his strong frame. Your lips moved expertly with his and when you whimpered, Joel used that as an opportunity to dart his tongue out. It was perfect and it was intoxicating.

Joel had to pull away, feeling the center of his pants tighten from the pressure of his member pressing against the fabric. 

“We should–”

“Can you stay?” You interrupted. 

“You sure?” Joel asked.

You nodded. “I just– I don’t want to be alone.”

“That makes two of us,” he whispered. Joel leaned down to peck your lips, smiling once he pulled away. 

You led him down the hallway and to your bedroom. You removed your boots and socks, tossing your flannel to the side. You lied back in bed, clad in a t-shirt and jeans before watching Joel do the same with his own boots. When he climbed into bed with you, you felt yourself instinctively move closer to him. 

Joel was lying on his back with his arm stretched out for you. You smiled to yourself and moved closer until your head rested against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. 

The string lights from outside illuminated your room, giving you and Joel a perfect view of each other. You were staring into each other’s eyes before he leaned down to press his lips against yours once more. 

You moved to lie on your back, feeling him move to hover above you. Joel gently bit at your lower lip, hearing you quietly moan against his lips. The sounds you were making immediately caused a reaction from him, blood rushing straight down to the center of his pants. 

“Joel…” You mumbled against his lips.

He pulled back, his arm propped up with his other hand resting on your hip. “M’sorry, we should stop.”

You shook your head. “I want you.”

Joel grunted lowly. “A– Are you sure?”

“Take me, Joel.”

---

Part 5.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!): @rye-flower, @3zae-zae3, @orangevtae, @flippittygibbitts​, @blairfox04, @ohthemisssery​, @avengersfan25​, @somebodytookmyusername​, @littleshadow17​, @beltzboys2015-blog​

[fragileswift1313]

Mrs Maisel Musings!

Kia ora, friends!

Alright, here it is folks, the moment maybe some, maybe none of you have been waiting for: my thoughts on the The Marvellous Mrs Maisel final season. I did it, I finally got it done. I think the reason it took me so long, aside from previously mentioned mental health issues, is that writing stuff like this for five hundred and sixteen minutes of television is hard! It’s really hard. I would love to hear what you all think of this, and if you want to discuss what I’ve written here, or even just about the show or season in general, please hit me up! I would love to talk about it with you.

Now enough with the delays and the stalling - please enjoy my review (??) of The Marvellous Mrs Maisel season 5, the final season.

So, I really liked the first few seasons of The Marvellous Mrs Maisel. Even though it’s a bit cheesy and dopey at times. Rachel Brosnahan is a joy to watch on-screen, and a lot of the other actors here do a really great job with the script they were given... such as it is. On a recent rewatch, though, I started to see the strings a little bit - things that I liked the first time around just didn’t quite hit the same. I got through most of it, all the important parts, and then I started the new season. It’s been a couple weeks or so since I finished it, and I’m not as down on it now as I was when I started, but y’all, I am about to have some opinions.

This the final Mrs Maisel season really feels like creator Amy Sherman-Palladino probably wanted to do at least one more season after this, but someone at Jeff’s Website Studios said no, so she simply decided to burn the show to the ground.

Now as I wrote in the subtitle, I am about to spoil things here, so this is your final warning: if you don’t want to be spoiled for season five of The Marvellous Mrs Maisel, get out now.

Also: foul language ahead! 🤬

The entire point of this season seems to be leaning into how much of a piece of shit Miriam Weissman is. We get glimpses of her in “current day” 1962 juxtaposed with scenes set in 1972 and 1982, and a couple of other random years, where we skip around and see all sorts of wild stuff - Midge is rich and famous, her kids Ethan and Esther are all grown up, Joel is in prison, and there are some bonkers and hilariously bad facial prosthetics.

Now, aside from the hilariously stupid idea that Midge as a stand-up comic somehow got insanely rich, there are some cool ideas here. The first episode opens with Esther in a psychiatrists office in 1981, searching through a backpack for something and seeming very annoyed. On first watch, I didn’t like that this is something that’s shown at all, but the more I thought about it the more I warmed to the idea. In previous seasons, The Marvellous Mrs Maisel has at times made a point of showing Midge being a terrible and/or absent mother, usually for comedic effect, but I think it’s interesting that they took this idea and bore it out, to show that mid-20’s Midge’s actions had consequences. In a later episode we also see Ethan as an adult, with Midge annoyingly landing in a helicopter nearby and upsetting everyone - this wasn’t as interesting to me, but it was still a good glimpse into how little regard Midge appears to have for anyone but herself, Joel, Susie, or Lenny Bruce.

Speaking of Lenny Bruce, I want to talk about his appearances in the final season. If you know anything about him from real life, you might know how his life ended, and where. The very first episode of season five has Midge bumping into him randomly at the airport when he is about to board a plane to Los Angeles. This made me so. Fucking. Mad. IRL Lenny Bruce was found dead in his home in Hollywood Hills in 1966, which lead me to believe that the very last time Midge will ever see him was this scene at the airport. Midge walks away from the interaction with Lenny with a strange look on her face, as if she somehow knows that this will be the last time she ever sees him alive, and it is my humble opinion that that fucking sucks. Lenny Bruce is one of the best characters on this show, with a ton of great appearances and lines and jokes, and Luke Kirby does a phenomenal job of capturing the real Lenny’s energy - it’s not 1:1, but it’s a great depiction, and I simply cannot believe Amy S-P would do my boy like this. The only other time we see Lenny in this season is years later, performing in front of a fairly disinterested crowd as he mumbles and rambles about this thing and that, and it’s so fucking depressing. This season, the show never outright mentions his drug use, but it’s heavily implied, and there’s a moment in a back room where he is talking to Susie and appears to be unable to stand up. On the one hand, I’m kind of pleased that they didn’t depict his death at all, but it really bothered me that these two scenes were all we got of him before the show stops referencing him at all.

The part of this season that really shines the most to me is a scene from episode eight, with Abe in a dimly-lit restaurant with Gabe, his boss, and a couple of colleagues. The scene begins with Abe checking his coat and coming over to sit where Gabe etcetera are already seated around a table and chatting. They order some wine. There’s a cut here to a few minutes later where the wine has arrived and been poured, and Abe sits silently, swirling his drink and clearly deep in thought while the others talk amongst themselves. Eventually, Gabe interrupts Abe’s thoughts, telling him that he had been raving to the others about his conversational skills. Abe apologises. “It’s just… the whole goddamn world, you know,” he says, clearly depressed about something. “Only that?” chimes in one of the other men at the table. Then ensues a conversation about the state of the world, about progress, about gender inequality and mental health, even, which was surprising to me. This scene is heartbreaking, and might be some of the best writing in the entire series. I cried watching this scene the first time around, and again just now rewatching it. It’s really sad that Abe never got the kind of character development shown here earlier, I would have liked to see that.

Episode six is an interesting sort of experiment; beginning with Midge on stage, in 1985, talking about her relationship with Susie, it then transitions into a roast for an indifferent and grumpy Susie in 1990, which is basically a device for a bunch of famous people you’ve seen in other things to come together as characters never seen before or again and tell stories about Susie’s rise to fame as one of the biggest talent managers in the United States. Here we get an explanation for why Joel is in prison, and a bunch of seemingly randomly selected stories about what Susie has been up to since 1962. As with the portrayal of Esther in episode one, this was another thing about this season that really bothered me at first, because it felt like it lacks focus, but as I thought about it more, it started to grow on me. This collection of tales about Susie’s exploits make sense for her character, and help to define who she is.

Overall, this season really fell down for me when I realised that a lot of really interesting moments never truly pay off. We jump around a lot between different years and perspectives, and we see a lot of things that could have been great story arcs, but they simply end and are never mentioned again. I really do feel like this season was supposed to be two or more, and Jeff’s Studio said no, so Amy Sherman-Palladino lit it all on fire. I think that if hyou like this show, it might still be worth it to catch the final season, but personally I feel like it should never have been made - at least not in this form. I would much rather have seen this stretched out more, over at least one more season. It tries to give the viewer some closure in the very last scene of the very last episode, but for me it falls flat. I don’t think I’ll ever watch this again.

Thanks so much for reading! What did you think? Once again, please feel free to hit me up in the comments, on the socials, or send me an email. And as always, if you want to read more stuff by me, you can check out my Letterboxd reviews - I recently reviewed The Craft (1996), Eradication (2022), and The Sand (2015)!

I hope y’all are staying safe out there! Have a great week and I’ll talk to you again soon. Ka kite anō au i a koe. 💚

Rebecca

Links | Twitter | Mastodon | Cohost | Substack | itch.io | Letterboxd | Instagram | Carrd | Email

[mondscheinprinzessin]

⭐ For any part you like to talk about (preferably from your Soulmate AU☀️🌕🌟)💖

I never can decide on anything, or even a specific part, so let me just ramble a bit about it^^

For starters, this was my first soulmate project ever, and while I am not the biggest fan of the trope (it can be so cliche if done without proper inspiration), I got reminded of a fic I read in another fandom, and oh the drama and hurt, I just couldn't resist putting my favs though it as well.

It was also the first fic where I included my now favourite OT3 ship (apart from a short febuwhump prompt). So many firsts!

I think for this AU I did the most planning I ever did for a fic, meaning chapter outlines, what exactly I want to include, I had a big doc of inpsiration of dialogue and scenes etc. But even though I did that a lot changed thoughout the story, sometimes I just went with the flow, for example in chapter 8 where Aleksi has this big blowout with Joel and Joonas, and it's all a big misunderstanding.

With the argument I only knew the start and and the end, but between that it was complete spontaneity, with what would sound natural, what would make sense, and how for Aleksi, and for Joel and Joonas this is a complete different situation, they are playing two seperate parts here with different understandings and goals, and I really wanted it to be frustrating for a the reader, because at some point they will have to find together, right? But it didn't feel right for Aleksi's character at all to be so quick to fall into this.

Now even Joonas seemed to lose his patience and ran both his hands over his face. “No, that’s not how it is at all. We really like you and not just as a casual hook -”

(All they want is a chance, but there's not breaking through at this point of the story, it's too early)

“I’m not stupid, okay?!” Aleksi yelled at them. His hands fell from his arms and tightened into fists. “I’ve seen your mark, I know you’re waiting for someone else, so don’t pretend I’m so important to you when I’m not.” 

(At least Aleksi has grown over the time enough to stand up for himself now, I doubt it would have been the same in school)

This is why in chapter 9, I first had to establish a curve of his character that made sense for Aleksi to finally allow himself to trust, and boy was that difficult. I love love love leaning into character's feelings and thoughts, as difficult as it is sometimes, but I have to admit I'm really proud on how this one turned out.

And yet when it comes to the scene of Aleksi inviting Joel and Joonas in, I couldn't give it the happy ending yet. There was still a point of pessimism, the hint that Aleksi will get hurt, because after years and years of pain it didn't make sense for me to make a fairy tail ending out of this so quickly. And I had to span the character arc a little longer (and I really hope it wasn't too much at this point).

"Because let’s be real, he was far from perfect, and he knew that best out of all people. How long could it take them to realize that too? Obviously they had this picture of him in their heads that they were chasing and once they had him they would be disappointed."

"But no, they had betrayed and hurt him, who was to say Joel and Joonas couldn’t do that too despite saying they liked him? At the latest when they found their soulmate and let go of Aleksi."

But I think in the end it was worth it. This part of the fic really was hard work for me, and Aleksi's character ran away from me and my plans (ryyyd😄), but it was also very much fun to write it.

[aviangrian]

ahhh i just wanted to say i love starboy SOOO much!!!! i did not/still dont know anything about f1 but the way you write it is so easy to follow along with and read!!! i love how you write the characters, especially scar/grian/joel/lizzie, you write them so so sooo flawlessly... i love how it seems like were there with scar in the moment of everything going on and how you describe everything from his perspective. i also LOVE how you write scar and grian especially because they both seem just so *real* and *raw* and i usually never see that from fics. the way you write is just so in detail that it really allows the reader to imagine everything thats happening and i LOVEEE that!!! i also love how you write grian and mumbos friendship, like they obviously care about each other so muchhh and i love how the readers able to see that even through scars perspective!!!!! esp the scene after grian fell asleep watching topgun and mumbo helping him lay down into a more comfortable position,,, and how they hugged when grian finally got p1 😭😭❤️ NOT TO MENTION THE LATEST CHAPTERRRR AND SCAR AND GRIANS FIRST KISS????? THAT WHOLE CHAPTER WAS GOLDDDD i loved that chapter so much,,, so much happened between grian and scar???? that scene of them in the club??? scar (and us) finally getting some insight to what happened in grians past from grian himself??? grian being comfortable enough with scar to actually open up to him??? AND THEM CONFESSINGGG??? ☹️☹️☹️❤️❤️❤️ might be my fav chapter if im being honest

i also just wanted to ask a few questions while i was here though;

first, do you have a set upload schedule? or is it like a whenever you have time to work on it thing?

second, do you think youll be posting more content abt this au after starboy is finished? like a grians pov or something? ive become so interested in this au because i can tell so much work has been put into it and id love to see more it!!

lastly, is this going to be an eventual mumscarian fic??? i think its obvious Somethings going on/has happened between grian and mumbo but i just dont know What... like that one scene with them all at the dinner??? or the car scene with grian standing up through the sunroof???

i cant wait to read more chapters!!! but im also scared As Hell because SO much has happened already and its only been 6 chapters. we still have 5 more longgg chapters left and im so scared but also excited for how things are going to go... i hope youre having a good day, i cant wait to see what you have in store for this story!!! 🫶🫶 sawrry that this was a lot of rambling though,,, 😭😭❤️

anon i’m crying?? 😭 thank you so much.

the goal of the fic is real and raw! it’s an unusual setting (maybe not for me considering this is my second racing centric fic) but everything that happens is a product of the environment! the wins from his own team left scar feeling bitter at times, but watching grian win had him so proud he knew he’d get in trouble w his own team if he showed it lol. it’s all about where they are and it makes me sooo happy (like you would not believe) when people who aren’t f1/sports fan still enjoy the fic!

last ch was a lot and contained a lot of really vital stuff that i couldn’t wait to see the reactions of. grian finally opening up is so important to me and scar letting it happen in its own time is a huge part of why grian begins letting him in, which is evidently not something he’s used to at all. mans has been through it in this universe

as for the questions: i don’t have an upload schedule but i try to churn out the chs when i have time. it fits that valentine’s was right before midterms season for me so i got to get something out before i get swamped by all that 🥲 i don’t like to let a full month go by without posting but we’ll see how my semester keeps going lol

and i’ve been thinking of content once i’ve finished starboy. i’ve had ideas of grian’s pov hitting all the major plot points or even a jimmy spin-off one shot but nothing is planned for now. definitely floating around in my mind

mumscarian is not the endgame but the mystery behind grian and mumbo will be revealed! grian is mysterious and mumbo being mumbo goes along w it, but it does come full circle eventually!

i didn’t even realize there’s already only 5 chs left! that’s crazy, considering how much of the story i have left!

thank you again anon, this is all very much appreciated. i love your rambling because it allowed me to ramble too haha

[frannyzooey]

Just a SDLN thot but also just observation I absolutely love how you’ve described them fucking on the river bank, both in chapter 8 and 9. Like just the feeling of solitude and knowing no one is around and you can do that outside. The way you get flustered seeing the person you love naked, even just swimming innocently. And I can feel it too—like feel the weight on top of me and the cool water and hot skin and 🥵

And I’m also so excited for pregnancy sex—reader being super sensitive and Joel just wanting to worship her body ❤️

🥺🥺 thank you!!! This is so sweet and nice! ❤️❤️

I think about those sensations a lot — flush of hot skin against chilled damp skin, humid breath against cold lips, etc — and it’s so indulgent, in a way most people can’t even be in the non-outbreak world? For them to lose so many things, but then gain things like that — it’s delicious and to know you can feel it means everything! ❤️

Super sensitive is going to be the name of the game 👁️👄👁️ — I’ve had a scene in mind since the very beginning that I can’t wait to share.

I’m ngl — I have been worried about that part of the storyline, because I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I am very excited to share it with you and to know that you’re also excited is very reassuring 🥺❤️

[something-tofightfor]

Okay, now that I’ve composed myself, I think I can articulate everything 😆

The cinematography was just amazing! I think I was blown away by that the most to be honest (I mean aside from how amazing the acting was!), I loved it! All the details, even the tiny ones, the effects of it all, just everything was so so incredible!

Now I do love Pedro and how he plays Joel, the man has range that I do appreciate, but Gabriel Luna? How have I not seen anything he has been in! He was amazing! His portrayal of Tommy was just 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 so good! I’m going to have to watch more things that he is in now. 😆☺️

And to be honest, I was hesitant about watching it because I know people really over sexualize Pedro Pascal, and in turn Joel Miller, like to the cringing point (that’s just my opinion, don’t mean offense to anyone) so that was my main reason for waiting to watch it, but I am so glad that I did. He was just incredible to watch, I think he nailed it.

And Bella Ramsey? Loving her portrayal of Ellie! She was a good choice, she does such an amazing job! Can’t wait to see the next episode

Okay, that is all! 😆

How was it watching it again for you after seeing it in LA?

Haha, welcome back.

The way the show LOOKED was honestly my favorite part. I love the establishing shots of Boston and the inside of the QZ and the way they show Joel's neighborhood and the environments within the actual city of Boston itself. (Joel and Tess' apartment IN PARTICULAR is somewhere that I would love to explore - just to see what else is in there.

They definitely took a lot of care on the way the whole show looked and how it felt to watch the characters interact with their surroundings, and I appreciate the hell out of that. There's so much to look at, and even though I've seen it MANY times now, I'm still catching new stuff every time.

GABRIEL LUNA IS GREAT. He hasn't been in a lot of super high quality stuff, but the things he's been in, it wasn't him that impacted the quality. (His time as Robbie Reyes in Agents of SHIELD was a standout though.)

I agree about the oversexualization, and with Joel, that rubs me the wrong way. This isn't just a "oh, look at how good looking that man is, I'm going to focus on that" situation, and it bugs me when that's all people take away from viewing a piece of media. Especially with Joel, because of his storyline and characterization.

IDK. Everyone's going to do what they want and more power to them, but there's more to this show than that, and I feel sorry for people if that's all they care about because they're missing out on some great stuff.

Pedro was perfect for the role. This isn't game Joel, but something else entirely, and it works. We're in for it for the next 8 weeks for sure. Bella was also a vey good choice. I can't wait to see more Ellie and see how she's brought to life as the show goes on. There are so many really important Ellie moments coming up, and seeing them is going to be something really special.

So I watched it in LA on January 9th, and then watched it twice in NYC on January 12th. I've watched it a few times since it premiered on Sunday ... and it's just as fantastic each time as it was the first. I like being able to watch and sort of focus my attention somewhere different each viewing. Seeing it on a big screen was definitely a really cool experience, but it's just as good on my TV at home, so I'm happy about that!

Can't wait to see what you think of next week's episode!

[justagalwhowrites]

Which Pedro asker here… Omg, I love that you chose that picture for NIT bc it isn’t one I see posted often 🥰 And that’s exactly how I pictured for Din!! That scene lives in my mind rent free. In the moment I probably read it like ten times. It was SUCH an amazing face reveal for all the Din fics I’ve read.

Good for them OBVIOUSLY like God damn.

Cannot wait for your next story to start!! You are so giving. Soo many great fics have an age gap which I like but I’m excited for one that isn’t (NIT has been such a nice balance where age is maybe a thing but not really relevant). Also, that era Pedro is just… something else.

Ahhh Hi Bestie!

I LOVE that photoshoot of Pedro. LOVE LOVE LOVE it. Of course, that man is so damn photogenic that put him in front of a camera and I'm going to be happy about it.

And AHHHH OMG I'm so happy you loved that scene! That was one of the scenes that I came up with when I was first thinking about the fic. I knew the dynamic I wanted for Din and Doll, her background, that scene and their wedding. Everything else kind of built out from there but that moment for me was just PEAK.

I hope y'all like the new story! I think it's going to be a bit different. I'm not usually huge on super big age gaps? There certain power dynamic things can make me a little uncomfy with it (no hate AT ALL to people who read or write it, absolutely nothing wrong with it and I definitely understand the appeal, it's just not always my vibe.) BUT that's not a hard and fast rule by any means, @joelscruff 's Feelings on Fire is one of my favorite things EVER in part because of the age gap! It's just not necessarily something I think I'd be good at writing. I do enjoy the tropes of BFD and DBF Joel, though! It's been fun to write those in a slightly different way - where some of the taboo is still there - and I'm glad you're enjoying New in Town!

The age thing has been a weird spot for me as a writer? I think I'm older than a lot of writers in the fandom (I'm 33 so 🤷🏻‍♀️) and I prefer to write things I think I can connect with. I've never been someone in their 50s and my closest friends kind of top out in the mid-40s range. I don't feel like I intimately know life past like 45 so I'm not drawn toward writing it. But I do like putting Joel with someone more his contemporary for a lot of things. Yearling is an odd one for that, where there is a sizable age gap (Bambi is almost 43 at this point in the fic, Joel is about to turn 60) but since they met when she was in her 40s and he was in his 50s, their ages aren't really considered by each other. They're just two adults who are middle aged, the end. Compare that to Lavender where Joel was just 11 years older than Doc (a much more common age gap, I think) but their relative ages played a much bigger role early in the fic and then became non-existent as a concern. I haven't written a full fic without some kind of age gap for Joel - even though it's not really a focus of any of my fics - so I'm excited to write a Joel and a reader who are my age!

ANYWAY I went off on a tangent there but lol thank you so so much for reading and reaching out! Love you!!!

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Seduction Under the Southern Stars by Serenity Woods

Southern Stars #1

What a wonderful romance ~ Couldn’t put it down ~ Can’t wait for more!

What I liked: * Linc: archaeologist, bright, attractive, suffered childhood abuse, strong, survivor, gentle, caring, successful, deserves the good that comes his way in this book, perfect for and with Elora

* Elora: brilliant, archaeologist, in Master’s program, museum employee, suffered traumatic event, survivor, grows a lot in this story, has big decisions to make, perfect for and with Linc

* The introduction to the main characters of this trilogy – and wanting to read their stories

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* The connection between Linc and Elora and how the embers of their young love were banked but never extinguished

* Elora’s family: caring, devoted, loving, family oriented, supportive, communicative, and kind

* The surprise news heard at a funeral that changed Linc’s outlook on life and where it took him while he was in New Zealand

* Linc’s ability to read Elora and be the person she needed then watching their relationship develop

* The idea of the quest for treasures for the museum’s Valentine’s event – and seeing what treasure is found in this book while wondering what treasures will be found in the next two

* The communication between the characters

* Learning more about New Zealand

* Being drawn into the story, feeling I was part of it, caring about the outcome, and feeling good at the end

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about what Linc and Elora experienced in their pasts and what they had to do to survive then thrive

* Having to wait for the next book in the series

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told… When Joel, an old friend of mine, asks me to stay in New Zealand after my father’s funeral to help his kid sister, Elora, hunt down a family heirloom, I’m not too thrilled. Visiting my home country has dragged up unwelcome memories of the poor, angry young man I used to be, and I’m itching to get back to my European excavations and affluent lifestyle. Also, I haven’t forgotten that when Elora’s father, Atticus, caught me kissing his beloved teenage daughter nine years ago, he was so furious he sent me to the other side of the world. But only I know the location of the ring that Elora’s looking for, and, despite our falling out, Atticus and his family saved my life when I was a troubled teen, so, reluctantly, I agree. I remember the deacon’s daughter as being small, cute, and with the biggest blue eyes that used to follow me wherever I went. Innocent and naive, she was easy to tempt into a forbidden kiss that I’ve never forgotten. However, I assume she’s long since rebelled against her strict upbringing and become a woman of the world. She has changed. She’s grown—a little—and she’s now beautiful rather than cute. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and she’s a lot feistier and less gullible than she used to be. But it turns out that, shockingly, for reasons I haven’t yet discovered, she’s never been kissed by anyone but me. Joel and Atticus make it quite clear she remains out of bounds. But I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. Now I have ten days to help her track down the family taonga or treasure. That’s ten days alone with her under the southern stars to see whether I can seduce her into kissing me again. Or maybe even more… Well, I never said I was one of the good guys. * forbidden romance, best mate’s little sister, brother’s best friend, second chance, fling, millionaire

[celestianstars]

Delayed taking a shower cause I was so wrapped up in reading this chapter MY FEELINGS BESTIE AHH! This little family has my heart forever 💌

I love anytime you give us a breakfast moment in the Miller household, it just feels so wholesome and warm and they’re all so stinking funny, not everyone stealing Sarah’s coffee and Tommy spitting in it—he’s such an idiot and I love him lmfao

Also the amount of times I teared up reading this chapter is…please my sleeve is damp, it’s the subtle but profound ways you write Alison and Joel acting and thinking like a unit, a family, talking about their finances and supporting each other with the new business and recovering from everything, even Sarah feeling so comfortable in Ali’s space, brave enough to come to her with worries they’re gonna breakup…it’s melting my heart, you do it so beautifully!

Joel was also so charming here like ok I’m giggling and kicking my feet at this!

“That’s a good idea, I already got plans for this ass tonight.”

So when I was talking about crying while reading this yeah this was one of those moments!

“since everything happened—he covers this vulnerable part of me that only, really, just now stopped hurting with his large and gentle hands.”

God he’s so gentle and loving with her, he’s so boyfriend and husband and man of her dreams and I love that for her!

“On my life,” he whispers.

Tearing up again oh my god he said it 🥺

Ooh and their lake getaway! So so cute, YES THE TENSION OF THINKING HE COULD ASK THEE QUESTION AT ANY MOMENT!!! I was thinking that the whole time time too, the anticipation! And their conversation about it too, Joel revealing he’s waiting for permission, oh man this dude! He’s so thoughtful at every turn!

Love love love that she doesn’t want to return to work, that’s a big big step for her and there’s so much growth in her reasonings and in telling Joel and being assertive with him the this is the plan and their family will be okay and ahh getting his support in response was so good!

Ok and him joining her therapy session! For them to really get into it and talk about their fears, about her resigning not wanting him to treat her like she’s fragile but also his protective side just wanting her to be safe regardless of money, whew such a good conversation for them to have had

I know I say this a lot but your realistic way of writing really makes this shine and it’s been lovely to watch it unfold! From how they’ve both assumed parenting together really well to how they navigate their worries and hangups and the not so fun shit…it’s so great

This is sooo long I’m sorry for the word vomit, we’ve just come such a long way and I’ve enjoyed this ride immensely I’m excited and nervous for Sept. 🥲🥹❤️ but I trust and love you and these characters and how much youuu love them!

Finally, that ending! There I go tearing up again awww, I am so hyped she’s moved in officially now and they’re so goddamn adorable talking about what color to paint their room, Joel being thoughtful again with wanting to give his girl space to make their shared home feel like here too ugh yes!

Her own “aha” moment of knowing, truly knowing, settling into the fact that he could ask the question at any moment yes but she’s thought about it enough now that it wouldn’t throw her for a loop, she’s steady, she knows he’s got her…and she says yes… 🎆 reading that was everything!

Phenomenal as always! I adore you so much! 🥰 @wyn-n-tonic

Days of You & Me: August

Word Count:��10.6k+ Warnings: Hospital talk. Grumpy Joel. Unprotected sex. Blink and you miss it cumplay. Marriage talk. Anything missed was not done with malicious intent. Author’s Note: Thank you to @tauralmie and @darnitdraco as well as @marvelousmermaid for being my continuous shoulders to lean on throughout writing this series.

Please follow @wyn-writing and turn on updates for notifications. You can sign up for my taglist HERE.

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August 2, 2003:

Joel’s shuffling through the unopened mail on his desk, pushing it around and around and eventually grumbling something about making a goddamn phone call that he doesn’t have time for. 

“The fuck is he so goddamn grumpy for?” Tommy asks, taking Sarah’s coffee from her as he walks in and immediately spitting the overly sweetened contents back into the mug. “I owe you Starbucks,” he says as he hands it back to her.

“Maybe also a new mug too because that was gross,” she says, watching him walk to the coffee maker and pour himself a cup. “And I don’t know what daddy’s grumpy about, he’s just being grumpy.”

“He can’t find the hospital bill from when you broke your arm,” I say, not looking up from my book. “I think he was also expecting for his contractor registration to have come in by now, he and Tommy and are actually bidding on a project at the hospital so he doesn’t want to have any outstanding dues.” 

“Wait,” her eyebrows pinch together and her face twists like her dad’s does when he’s confused. “You're bidding on a project but—“

“We started a business,” Joel says, coming into the room. “It's not a big deal and we’re still working regularly until we get some footing.” When he picks up my cup—the one he made me—and finds it empty, he calls me a dick and takes Sarah’s instead, contents halfway tipped into his mouth before Sarah can scream out that Tommy spit in it.

Confusion builds up into that space between his eyebrows, masked over by the frustration he’s felt already this morning. “Is it that hard to not make me want to kill you off a job site for just one day?”

“It’s not my fault she overloads that shit with sugar,” Tommy says, sneaking to take the seat Joel has just pulled out with half a grin on his face. “Really, that one is your fault so you can’t even blame me for it.”

“Technically,” Sarah stabs into her pancakes, “he is right, dad. You’re the one who encourages this sugar intake because apparently caffeine is worse for me than that.”

“It'll stunt your growth,” Joel says over the rim of my cup before placing it back in front of me. 

“Is that what happened to you?” She asks, face dead serious with concern as she looks up at her father. “And your shirt’s inside out.”

Breathing out an expletive, he sets the cup down and pulls his shirt over his head, groans from both Sarah and Tommy accompanying the movement as she fakes a gag and her uncle complains about Joel lacking manners at the table.

His stomach growls as he pulls it back on the right side out and he pinches my nose as he walks into the kitchen proper, asking what’s for breakfast besides pancakes.

“I just made pancakes, Joel.”

“But I don’t—“ 

Turning, I catch his eye before he can finish the sentence. I’m aware he doesn’t like pancakes, swears up and down that he’s a waffle kind of guy but conveniently doesn’t have a waffle maker. “I didn’t make ‘em for you, Joel Alexander, there are eggs in the fridge but they’re uncooked because somebody had to be grumpy over the mail instead of helping.” 

Eyebrow raised, he lets out a low whistle as he turns, collecting a clean plate and throwing some pancakes on. “And I stole your coffee,” he says. “I’m a dick today.”

Tommy doesn't even skip a beat in his agreement and immediately claps Sarah on the shoulder with a nod towards the front door as soon as his older brother rounds on him, asking if I still have the same order or if the child has corrupted me.

Joel’s shoulders drop when we’re alone, frustration clearing way in his features to make way for apology and a hint of embarrassment as he drops into the chair opposite me. “Did I snap at you at all?” He asks. “Or Sarah?”

“You didn’t snap at us but I think you certainly offended the bookshelf when you stubbed your toe and called it an inbred jackass. How can wood be an inbred jackass, Joel?”

“Don’t even get me started,” he breathes out. “Just know that the inbred trees are good for nothing but wood pulp and toilet paper.”

“You got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” I observe. “Which is funny because I remember you giggling and carrying on while we were still half asleep.”

“Just thought my registration would be in,” he says around a bite. He sounds defeated. “I had it expedited and everything, it should be here; and not being able to find the bill for her broken arm isn’t helping. I thought I put it on top of the pile to take care of.”

“You did.” Leaning back, cup in hand, I shrug. “Not that you threw the business together fast or anything, I know you had the entire business plan already mapped out, but getting it all together happened pretty fast and I figured I’d take one stressor off of you so I took care of the hospital bill.”

“Y-you—why?” It’s not anger in his voice, just mounting frustration. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it but you didn’t have to do that.”

All I can give him in response is a shrug as I take a pull off my coffee. That does anger him.

“It was over five hundred dollars, Alison!”

“Yes, I’m aware,” I say. “I wrote the check and mailed it.”

“But you didn’t have to do that,” he insists. “That's a lot of money.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” I say. Again. “You just paid for the registration, the expedited service, other business expenses, the liability insurance. You started a business in the span of a month, Joel, you put so much into it. Not to mention the doubles upon doubles and doing things with Sarah and taking care of me so I would really appreciate if you’d be okay with me taking care of this family too, sometimes.”

He swallows thickly, cupping a hand around his face to scrub down the length of his sparse beard, and releases a breath. “I fucking adore you,” he says, quiet in that disbelieving way. “God, I love you so much, but that was a lot of money.”

“It’s fine,” I promise. “And I was also thinking that I should contribute to the mortgage, I probably should’ve been this whole time but I definitely should if I move in.”

We haven’t really talked about it since that night except for him to insist he had a plan, that he had a better way of wanting to ask me instead of just yelling at me out of frustration. Even telling him he still could didn’t do much to relax him, but I haven’t pressured him for this to be a conversation we have just yet.

His eyes go wide. “I can’t ask you to do that, Alison.”

“You're not asking, I’m offering, Joel.” Leaning forward, I take his hand and say nothing about the syrup that has managed to find its way onto the skin of his palm. “We can’t have all of these big, life altering conversations where we even talk about the plans we know we’ll be making with one another in the future and not take the baby steps towards those goals. I don't know if there are rules to this shit but I refuse to share just sex and smiles with you; I want the not fun shit too, Joel.” 

Shoulders curving inward, his breath hits my hand as he looses it from somewhere deep in his chest but I can see the calculations he’s doing behind his eyes; the emotions he’s flickering through. The last time he split the hard stuff with somebody, it ended in divorce and left Sarah without a mom.

He takes another bite and then abandons the food altogether, pushing back the chair and standing instead to stack his half empty plate on top of mine and Sarah’s empty ones before walking over to the sink. I can’t see the face he’s making but I can sense his feelings in the way his ribs are expanding through every breath.

It’s been a while since he stood behind me at the kitchen sink or I stood behind him and I take the chance now on unsteady legs, still tender from the way he’s touched me in the nights following my insistence than I’m not breakable.

We might be heading into the late summer but the house is set to near freezing, an attempt to keep me from overheating on the pain medicine and the heating pad the doctor insists I wear to help speed up the healing process. There’s also the fact that he, himself, is a space heater, blood running thick with warmth that radiates out of him and has me kicking off the covers in bed more often than not.

That’s what I lean into now, that body heat that feeds off the golden tones of his skin and keeps his brown eyes smoldering like coal. He takes a deep breath and I can feel his heart beating through his shirt, steady and loud and healthy.

He seems like he’s shut off; like he’s shutting down because he doesn't know how to speak what’s in his mind just yet and his head drops forward between his shoulders as he drops the dishes he was focusing on to hold onto the counter instead.

“Joel—“

But he turns before I can finish, those soapy hands covered in bubbles pushing right into my hair as he bends his body towards me until my lips are opening beneath his own to grant access to his tongue.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, pressing his forehead to mine. “I should’ve led with that.” The rough pad of his thumb swipes across my cheek and he kisses me again gently, whispering little words of gratitude in the small space he creates between us. 

Sarah and I get coffee, again, on the way home from the pottery workshop. It was my surprise for her birthday the way it was Joel’s surprise for mine. When I initially got hurt, I insisted he or Tommy take her instead but she said she’d rather wait for me. 

Again, what I made only mildly resembles what I was going for—a bowl—but Sarah grabbed every bit of artistic talent her father has and made a beautiful plant holder. Her plan for it is to glaze it purple and the shop owner had some butterfly stamps she could press into the clay. Those, she said, are going to be a darker purple or maybe gold.

I have to stop by the apartment on the way home, grab my mail and water my singular plant before it dies. Sarah seems pretty at home here now, I let her stay here on the days that I worked at the hospital and she didn’t have plans just for a change of scenery. Really, she didn't want to start having to go back to the Adlers’ and I convinced Joel that my several floors and doors and a great security system in the building was a safer place for her to be than there or home alone. 

Usually, she flops right down and turns the television on; cracks a book or her journal. Instead, she looks up at me, hazel eyes more brown than gold in the low light of late afternoon.

“What's up, bug?” 

“Were you and dad fighting the other night?” She asks, following up quickly with clarification on what day she meant.

Tuesday, when he got home from his double. 

“No,” I shake my head. “It wasn’t a fight. Why?”

She shrugs, eyes focused on the straw she’s been stirring her drink with since the moment she asked. “I was coming out of the bathroom and I heard him raise his voice, he almost never does that, and you sounded like you were crying. I didn’t want to pry though and if I ask dad, I don’t think he’d be honest with me.”

“Well, we weren’t fighting,” I assure her. “But I was crying, yeah, and he did raise his voice but he didn’t raise it at me.

“But you said something about coming back here,” she goes on. “You guys aren’t… breaking up are you?”

“God no,” I laugh out. “I'm sorry, Sarah, but I think you’re stuck with me so I’ll try not to be too wicked of a stepmother.”

“So…” Her father’s grin splits her face and it fills me with so much more love for the both of them to see his features in her. “You are gonna say yes.” It’s not a question this time, not like when she asked previously. 

If the increasing bareness of my apartment hasn’t told her, I might as well. “Yeah,” I nod, crossing the threshold into my bedroom to start picking and packing more of my clothes up to take them over. "Does he have a plan?” I toss over my shoulder from the closet and back out the door to her.

“He does,” she shouts back. “But you know him, he’ll probably end up blurting it out after you quote Die Hard or something equally as lame.”

“Wow, calling Die Hard lame is a bold move.”

She shrugs when I come back out of the room. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll lean into the wickedness a bit, I was really hoping for boarding school in Switzerland.” 

“And you’ll keep hoping,” I say, grabbing my keys and my drink again after putting the mail in her outstretched hand. “The best your dad and I can afford is military camp and, really, we might as well just send you out fishing with your Uncle Tommy if you wanna wake up before the sun and listen to war stories.” 

“I cannot even begin to describe how badly I do not want that, actually.” 

She spends the rest of the walk back to the car telling me about her summer reading list, asks if we can head to the library over here to see if they have a copy of Speak or The Giver. 

I’m turning around before she even finishes, heading back towards the elevators and pushing the button to head up.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah, I have both of those books upstairs,” I tell her. 

Sarah heard us the other night,” I tell him, eyes closed as my neck stretches to the side to give Joel better access. Since our talk, he’s tried to be better about the way he shows attentiveness. Still gentle and concerned but less infantilizing. He’s taken to massaging my neck and shoulders, hopes to keep those joints loose as he insists I still sleep in a nest of pillows. For the last couple of nights, it’s been ending with more than just his hands all over me. 

Those same hands still on my shoulders and he lifts his head just enough to ask me what night, the words ghosting over the still bruised and sensitive skin of my throat. 

“Tuesday,” I breathe out. “She heard you raise your voice and heard me crying, she thought we were breaking up.”

“What'd you tell her?”

“I told her she’s stuck with me and I’ll try not to be too wicked of a stepmother, she was disappointed because she was really looking forward to boarding school.”

Joel laughs. “You tell her all we can afford is camp?”

“Military camp,” I correct. “Then said she might as well have Tommy take her fishing and yap her ear off about Desert Storm.”

“You're so hot, you know that?” He whispers into my skin, lips pressed back down into the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “I wonder if I talk like you now the way you talk like me.”

“You got a little Massachusetts in you but I think I have more Texas in me.”

“I'll put some Texas in you, alright,” he mumbles while pushing his puffed out chest into my back. “Did you tell her our fight ended up in me asking you to move in?”

“No,” I tell him. “You and I haven’t really discussed it. You know, the logistics and everything.” 

Nuzzling his face into my hair, he asks what logistics there are when it’s simple—I give him a date to show up and help pack and he moves me into his house. But there’s more that goes into it, there has to be.

“I have to sell my furniture,” I say. “I have to cancel my lease and change my address and fix all the holes I put into the fucking walls.”

He laughs. “Really good thing your boyfriend is a carpenter then, huh?”

“Mmm, construction worker and a nurse, that’s a damn good pairing.”

“Come work for me,” he suggests, accent honey thick and tipping towards the edge of sleep. “Maybe wear one of those cute little nurse outfits like at the halloween store.”

“You can’t afford me,” I toss back.

We’d never really discussed finances either, in all these months we’ve spent together. But earlier he kept saying how much money Sarah’s hospital bill was; that he’d pay me back for it. When I shrugged and said I’d make it back in a little more than a single shift, he asked me how much nurses make. I could only tell him how much I make and his only response to that was to ask me why I wasn’t taking him on more dates.

“Can’t afford you but still landed you, didn’t I?” He yawns out. “Dumb, grumpy, single father construction worker with a broken nose and a hot nurse. We’re a bad Hallmark movie.”

“Or a bad porno.” 

The whole bed shakes beneath his laughter and he presses his lips into my bare back. “I fucking love you.” 

August 14, 2003:

Joel’s sweating, coffee kicking in to put tremors in his hands and he pulls at his tie over and over again in hopes to get a little more air in. We've just seen the doctor who wasn’t happy with how dark the bruises just beneath my chest still are. He ordered a scan that Joel was insistent he stay around for and now we’re running late to his proposal for the hospital project.

We decided last night that he’ll undersell himself, a fair but otherwise underpriced bid with the goal of performing the work to the highest quality he can manage in order to build a reputation and get good word-of-mouth recommendations.

He worried about the loss he’d be taking, how it could and would negatively impact me and Sarah and our home if he’s underbidding. I can tell he’s still worried as I fix his tie and his hair on the elevator ride up to the board room and I assure him again that it will be fine.

“Hey, it’s fine, you’re fine—we’re fine. This won’t even start for a few months so you can continue working and padding our savings, maybe take on a few smaller projects in the meantime just to get some reviews.” 

He takes a deep breath and nods, jaw set with tension. Nervous or not, he looks good—he looks the part. Joel Miller, business owner, freshly shaved in his blue button down with a navy blue tie. There are little brown horses on it and he asks over and over again if I can see them from far away and if they’re lame.

“Remember,” I frame his face with my hands, pulling his eyes to mine as we reach Tommy at the doors to the conference room. “I’m taking half the mortgage over in October, I’ll handle Sarah’s back to school shopping and we will be fine—you are going to do great, my love.” 

Doors open and somebody calls for Miller and Co., pulling a smile wide across his face. Before Tommy can yell at him, he takes a deep breath and presses his lips to mine.

Everybody is buzzing.

Probably because everybody—sans Sarah—is buzzed.

They got the job and a bottle of whiskey to celebrate and now we’re tipsy and blasting music through the house as we pack for Lake Travis. I don’t think I’ve seen him this giddy or this touchy in a while. Not touchy like this anyway. Usually he’s concerned or loving and he’s loving right now, but the desperation in the way he pulls at me is reminding me of that morning in the gardens and the afternoon we spent making out in my bed.

I can tell that he wants to squeeze; to grab. He wants to show me all the strength in his body to highlight the self control that cuts through his hunger.

“I just realized I’ve never seen you in a swimsuit,” he growls against my lips. “God, the thought of you in a cute little bikini is doing things to me.”

“And the thought will have to keep being the one to do things to you,” I tease. “I got a one piece, I’m not feeling very comfortable with being in a two piece.”

“Makes sense,” he nods.

“And you see me naked every day.”

He shrugs, lips turned downward in a frown as if he’s disappointed in himself but he can’t help it. “I’m a man, I see my pretty girlfriend and all the blood in my body rushes towards my dick—“

“The door is open, Joel.”

“—and there’s something about knowing people would be seeing you half naked and glowing, the way I usually do, but it would still be only me who gets it all.”

“You are a caveman,” I tell him.

“Explains my brow bone.”

Pushing him away, I tell him to go order me a pizza so I can finish packing. We leave in the morning and I really don't want to be scrambling the way I know Tommy will be since he’s only been watching baseball and drinking since we got home.

“Pepperoni and mushrooms?” He asks.

“Can I do supreme with no mushrooms, actually?” When I ask he makes a face of confusion. This whole time we’ve been together and I’ve never deviated from my order, I’m shocked he even asked for confirmation on what I wanted. “The FDA recalled a bunch of mushroom brands, apparently there’s E.Coli contamination and I really don’t want to be shitting my brains out all night.” 

Joel’s large hand collides with the seat of my pants, grabbing a little harder around the curve of one cheek than I think he meant to, as he hums a positive into my lips. “That’s a good idea, I already got plans for this ass tonight.” 

August 15, 2003:

We’re behind schedule and I think Joel might be more anxious than I have ever been, grumbling at the steering wheel and calling his brother a dumbass.

Tommy didn’t pack last night, he’s rushing around now to get things together and swears he just needs his swimsuit and a toothbrush, maybe a shirt. Which is making steam come out of Joel’s ear as tension sets and unsets in his jaw.

“What's the rush, baby?” I ask from the backseat. “Lake Travis isn’t going anywhere.” 

“We only have a weekend,” he says, voice strained. “I want to get you both there to have a nice time, spend as much time in the sun as we can.”

“Daddy, we live in Texas,” Sarah says from beside me. “We spend all our time in the sun.”

“Ooh, she’s getting grown as shit,” Tommy practically howls out as he opens the door. “She getting it from you, PG?” He asks, sticking his head into the backseat.

Dressed in swim trunks and a t-shirt, he’s already got a beer in hand the moment he slings his backpack into the passenger side floor.

“Don't call her that,” Joel tells him, turning back towards us. “Either of them”—he points at Sarah—“she is not grown as shit so don’t make me cry and”—he points at me—“she is not your pretty girl and I am not in the mood for your bullshit.” 

“Morning to you, too, fucker.”

When he goes to pop the cap on the bottle, Joel raises one eyebrow and looks his brother up and down. “I don’t fucking think so, baby brother.” 

God, he’s sexy.

That ferocity he approached me with last night is continuing over into this little beach house.

As soon as we unlocked the door, Sarah ran in with her backpack, changed and ran back out the door with Tommy. Joel said we’d be out there soon but now it’s closing in on a time close to lunch and we still haven’t joined them.

I barely had my swimsuit up my legs, his shirt that I still sleep in hanging over me for privacy, when it was abandoned instead. He sees every bare part of me but after the check up, after being told the color is still too dark for the doctor’s liking, I’m feeling self-conscious even around him. When he wrapped his hand around my elbow, I thought he was just helping me to steady myself but when I looked up at him with half a thanks on my lips, he was already on his way to meeting me in the middle. 

By the time he had me up against the wall, my shirt was gone; tossed to the side to sit with my bathing suit as he pressed kiss after kiss into my ribcage while sinking to his knees.

We’ve been in the same spot since.

“Joel, they’re back,” I tell him, alerting him to the sound of the door closing downstairs. “We should—“

“Be quiet,” he commands, eyes hard on me as he lifts up from the crook of my neck and stares at me. “ That’s what we should do, we shouldn’t make a single sound.”

“We've been up here for so long,” I whisper, watching heat flash in his eyes over my words and the low tone of them. 

Most of that time was spent with him just looking up at me, barely even moving and definitely not letting me move. Joel sat back on his heels, trailed his hands all over my body, commenting that all this time he’s been afraid the bruising would never go away and he’d have to add them to the map of my body he’s got drawn up in his mind. 

It’s not that it’s not going away, it’s just still too dark. I’ve held off on telling him it’s because I’m moving around too much. Not only did I finally get him to stop tiptoeing around like I’m fine china but I feel like he hasn’t been this energetic in forever—neither of us have. 

“I'll just tell them we were taking a nap,” he shrugs, biceps flexing to lift me higher between him and the wall. “It's not a total lie.” 

“You said you wanted us to soak up all the sun,” I remind him. “I can’t do that with you pinning me up against the wall and, honestly, I’m starting to get a little worried about your knees.”

“What's wrong with my knees?” 

“God, and your back, baby,” I tack on. “I’m gonna be rubbing Aspercreme all over you if you don’t start acting your age.” 

His lips pull down in a frown and he starts mocking me, putting on a high pitched whisper to talk about his knees and his back as if he’s me even as he gently places me back down on my feet. 

“You didn’t even invite me on this trip,” I remind him, eyes following him as he turns on the shower and steps in ahead of me. “Your daughter did.”

“It’s so cute when you try to be mad at me while you pee after sex,” he teases. “Sitting over there being a little smartass, good luck getting me out of you with all the sex we have, Miss We-Don’t-Need-Condoms-Anymore.” 

“Who said I want you out of me?” I ask him. “I just don’t want a UTI, you’re not immune from them either so you should really start pissing after we fuck, too.” 

“Who says I don’t?” He asks, looking down at the shower floor. “And what happened to my sweet, pretty girlfriend? Why do you speak like my brother now?”

His eyes follow me and that self conscious feeling I’ve been covering with his t-shirts comes back out of nowhere, goosebumps prickling across my skin with the knowledge that he’s looking at me—at all the places he’s touched and kissed and loved. I make a joke that I sound like Tommy because Tommy sounds like him and he jokes that Tommy was his first child.

“It's funny how we start picking up the language and mannerisms of the people we love,” I shrug. “Even you drop your Rs sometimes.” 

There are times when he looks at me like there’s some kind of secret he’s holding onto, except we both know what that secret is. Sarah told me he has a plan and I can’t stop my mind from wandering and thinking through just how he’ll do it. She’s right though, he’ll probably jump the gun and blurt it out after I’ve done something stupid. 

Part of me thinks he’s going to do it right now, laughter just passed his lips as he shields me from the full force of the water. He doesn’t. 

But he could.

He could drop this on me at any moment and we both know how it’s going to go; we’ve talked about it as much as anybody who’s been together for eight months can talk about something this big and life changing. 

But knowing he’s going to ask isn’t the same as asking and knowing I’m going to say yes isn’t the same as actually saying it.

August 16, 2003:

“This is The Life,” Sarah says over her book, watching her father set two more drinks and some sandwiches down on the cooler between us. “Books, the beach… table service,” she gestures at Joel. 

His eyes go wide and he lifts his eyebrows, one of those silly faces like he’s just been smacked with a cartoon hammer. “I remember when your idea of The Life was building sandcastles with me and you would get so frustrated because the floaties made it hard for your chunky little arms to move properly.” He studies her, head shaking. “What happened?”

“MTV Cribs,” she says, not missing a beat. “Also you brought a woman around and now I’m not outnumbered by stinky boys so I don’t have to pretend to find farts funny anymore.” 

“Farts are funny,” Joel and I say at the same time.

“Poop jokes never get old,” I tell her. “I promise. You will hit thirty and a poop joke will make you laugh so hard you pee yourself.”

Joel nods, hand raised to grab at some of the chips in the bowl between Sarah and I. “I should know, I’m the one who told her the joke that made her laugh so hard she peed herself.” 

“That's really gross,” she says, looking over at me. “I hope I never like a boy so much that I pee myself over his lame jokes.”

“Yeah, I hope you never like a boy either,” Joel says around a bite.

Sarah’s only response is to roll her eyes and go back to her book, pulling it up so far that it covers her face wholly. She barely reacts when Joel tells her she needs to eat, waving him off with a comment about chips and coffee taking up valuable real estate in her stomach. 

“Will you come make sandcastles with me?” He turns his big brown eyes up at me. “Tommy’s abandoned me to go talk to a girl.”

“Aww, kinda like how you abandoned him for me.”

“Come on, you’ve barely gotten any sun,” he insists. “People are going to start thinking you’re a sickly Victorian child or that I don’t feed you.”

“If I get anymore sun, I’ll burn,” I shrug. I’ve spent more time in one of his t-shirts covering up the swimsuit than I have spent swimming in the damn thing. “And the water kind of smells like the morgue.”

Both him and Sarah turn towards me with mirrored looks of disgust on their faces, both insisting that it smells like play-doh and not dead people. Joel suggests I’m maybe missing work.

“Formaldehyde and play-doh have the same smell,” I say. “And I’m not missing work, I honestly kind of don’t want to go back.” He raises his eyebrow at me and I can feel my shoulders raise so high they’re almost brushing my ears. “Like she said, this is The Life.” 

Sarah asks the time and excuses herself, frantically running into the little beach house talking about Days of Our Lives. Joel can only look after her in confusion and then he takes her chair.

“So,” he turns his head towards me. “Besides ignoring me to read your books and giggle about your plans to take over the world with the child, what’s been on your mind?”

“I keep wondering if you’re going to propose this weekend,” I say, trying not to let the nerves come out in my voice. He can hear them though, I can tell by the look on his face. “Sarah says you have a plan,” I shrug. “My favorite thing about you is that you’re predictable and reliable—“

“I thought it was my dick,” he drawls out, shit eating grin stretching across his face.

“I fucking hate you,” I breathe out before continuing my thought. “You're predictable and reliable but you also keep enough hidden up your sleeve to catch me off guard and, I don’t know, I’d hate that usually but you make me feel safe enough that I know your surprises aren’t going to end in my free fall. You know?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don't know, I’ve never experienced a similar reaction to change like you have, but I try to understand and I’m glad that I’m a person that gives you that safety.” 

“Didn't answer the question though.”

“You didn’t ask one.”

I love how comfortable it gets between us—him and me and this natural, silent safety we both feel with one another. 

His eyes search mine and I thought that they’d be so much brighter with all this sun and sand around to reflect off of them, but they’re somehow darker. Fuller and with more want than I’ve seen him have in so long. Like every little thing he’s been stressing over is starting to melt back down as the summer comes to its sweltering peak. 

Finally, hands clasped and resting on the sun kissed skin of his stomach, he lays back and takes a deep breath. “I'm not gonna ask you this weekend,” he says on the exhale. “So you can relax.”

“So you are going to blurt it out at some random time?” I ask him.

He peaks one eye open at me and I’m reminded of that day in the car, having lunch outside of a build as he sat through a migraine and asked if I’d come home to tuck him in—the day it really felt like all this changed. Because that night, I went back to Boston and, two days later, I called him drunk and sobbing and spilling every insecurity and shattered little piece of heart to him through the telephone and he didn’t run away.

He didn’t hang up and cut communication; didn’t say that I was giving too much for a girl who hadn’t yet given enough in the bedroom.

“What gives you the idea that I’m just gonna blurt it out at some random time?” He asks. “You act like I have a habit of doing that.” 

“Wasn't so much my idea as it was Sarah’s,” I tell him. “She said you have a plan but, that knowing you, you’d probably jump the gun after I’ve done something lame.”

His nose scrunches up and I can see him trying to fight the laughter building in his lungs as he says everybody seems to know him so well. “I'm waiting on permission, actually,” he says. When he reaches over, I think he’s going to stroke the back of his knuckles along my cheek, the way he does so often, but he goes for one of the chips on my plate instead as he sticks his tongue out.

“Waiting on permission?” I ask him. “Like… from your financial advisor about the return on investment or…?”

“From your mom, smartass,” he laughs out. “From your grandma, from Drea. They haven’t given it to me yet so I’m not asking yet, you’ll just have to be content with living in sin.” 

He says everything so simply, like this is an everyday conversation about everyday things and it doesn’t jolt me out of my skin at all. Because it is an everyday conversation about an everyday thing, I just never thought it would be a conversation I would have with anybody. Not in a sad way, though, I guess I was sometimes, but more in a way of just… I didn’t think about it; I didn’t care about it—I didn’t have time to. This year started and I didn’t care about anything but getting through the day at work and now I’m talking about marrying a man who swears he wouldn’t have a nose if it wasn’t for me.

“You asked my mom for permission to marry me?” I ask, biting back my own laughter. “You know she had a baby at sixteen, right? She’s not much for tradition.”

Joel leans forward, smile growing wider. “You know that means she had a fourteen year old when she was thirty, right?” His eyes flick to the cabin and he nods his head in that direction. “You didn’t birth her but you’re technically parenting a fourteen year old at thirty, too, PG. So, yeah, I want your mother’s permission.”

Wind generated waves hit against the tiny shore of the tiny beach, the only sound between us now as I look from him to the water and back with all the thoughts of all these things running through my head.

His eyes go wide and dart all around my face and he clears his throat. “I'm saying a lot of shit that could and should scare you, I’m sorry.”

A deep breath and I try not to wince against the pain in my chest because I don't know if it’s from the injury or from the words that don’t actually scare me that much at all. “I don't think you’re sorry at all.” 

Lips pursed in thought, he shrugs. “Maybe I’m not, but I sure would be if it actually did so you gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I would,” I reassure him. “I will.” 

August 17, 2003:

“Shut”—he hauls me up against his chest, arm curling around my body to clamp his hand down firmly across my mouth—“the fuck up,” he growls into my ear.

Moaning harder into his palm, he laughs as the muffled sound relaxes my head down on his shoulder—just far enough back to look up at him and the dark, sweaty curls that are fallen down into his eyes. 

I see his cheeks draw up, indicative of the smile he’s wearing and he asks if I can be a good girl or not now. His laugh is low and dangerous as I nod against the hold he has on me but, when he lets me go, he nuzzles into my cheek and breathes deep. 

All those nights he refused to sleep next to me or touch me for fear of hurting me and now he’s hungry and needy and squeezing new bruises into the old ones as he holds me up against him. 

I woke up with a hand between my legs not even an hour ago, his lips pressing into my neck over and over again until I woke up enough to hear the words he’d been chewing on. 

That he loves me.

That he’s sorry he makes me feel lesser than sometimes because of how worried he is.

That sometimes he dreams of all the bad things that can happen to me and to Sarah; that two of those dreams came true over the last couple of months and it’s really fucked with him and that protective nature he prides himself on.

“If I wasn’t dead set on you after you were there for my daughter,” he says into my ear, “please know that knowing it was me you wanted in that hospital room solidified it. But I don't want you making quick decisions or regretting me, or us, so I’m waiting for permission—wait.” He swipes his thumb across the swell of my cheek to push the fallen saltwater away. “What are these? Am I squeezing too hard? Am I hurting you?” 

“No,” I shake my head, the smallest sound of contentment pushing out of me as he pulls me back tighter against his chest. “I just love you.”

His smile grows wider and he drops his hand to grip around my jaw, holding me firmly in place as he pushes my mouth open beneath his.

The sun is barely up, orange light pushing into the night sky and he jokes that I can finally see him and that he must be real fucking ugly first thing in the morning. But I saw him when he woke me and faced him as he undressed me. Even in the dark, I could make out the subtle curve of his nose and the heavy light of lust in his eyes as he told me all about the dream he had that put his hand between my legs in the first place.

Apparently it wasn’t helping that I was rubbing my ass on him in my sleep.

I didn’t tell him that he woke me up from a nightmare; that I was glad he didn’t sneak off to the shower so he could continue letting me rest. It’s bad enough he knows about the panic attacks, he doesn’t need to know they follow me into sleep, too.

He thrusts up again and any thought left spills out of my head as I feed another moan into his greedy mouth, smile wide against me when he drops his hand to rest gently around my throat. That’s my favorite thing he’s taken to doing on these nights since everything happened—he covers this vulnerable part of me that only, really, just now stopped hurting with his large and gentle hands.

It’s the protection he couldn’t give me that day.

The grip of his other hand slips from around my middle, dropping to lay flat against my lower stomach and he slides down until his fingers can curl around my mound to encourage another rush through me as he spills himself on a hard breath out. 

Slipping from between my legs, he pushes me gently back into the pillows and lays himself beside me, tired eyes going dopey as he slips one arm beneath my arched back and lays his head against my shoulder. Head in my hands, I press a kiss to his sweaty forehead and the scar on his nose, down to the tip and then his lips, muscles tightening beneath my bruised skin to pull me toward him as he continues trailing his middle finger through the mess he’s already made of me.

Another routine we’ve fallen into—laying tangled in each other while he finger fucks himself back into me. Something he started and has grown a taste for, calling from work or coming home after a hard day to say it was knowing I still had him in me that was on his mind to get through all the bullshit

“Sorry if I was too hard on you at any point,” he whispers in the small space between us.

“I would tell you if you were.”

He searches for a lie in my eyes, knowing that I haven’t said it to others in the past and then smiles, “I know you would.”

Nuzzling into the crook of my neck, he breathes deep and then sighs out, asking if I want to shower with him or if I’m hungry or if I want to sleep.

I shake my head to everything, I just want to lay here.

“I can hear you thinking,” he whispers, pushing up to the base knuckle. “What are we thinking about, my love?” 

Pulling him closer, pushing myself closer, I take a deep breath. "I think I want to quit my job.”

He looks up at me, shock fighting the heavy drooping lids over his eyes. “What?”

“When I go back,” I clarify. The doctor told me to take off the rest of August but said I should be good to come back in September but I wasn’t kidding when I told him I didn’t miss it yesterday. “I want to give them my notice of resignation and then I want to say goodbye.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks down at me but also looks far away. Calculations are being made behind his eyes because he knows I haven’t been interviewing elsewhere and we both know I said I’d take half the mortgage. I also know that he just started a business and he’s scared shitless of failing me and Sarah.

“I have a lot in savings,” I tell him. We’ve had this conversation already, I know he knows these things. We’ve been really open about our finances and what they look like and who will prioritize what. “We’ll be fine with that for a little while,” I insist. “Just while I decompress and look for something new.”

All he does is nod, jaw set like he’s trying to keep from chewing on something building in his mind. I’d feel less bad about this conversation if we didn’t have a kid to think about but I’ve been holding this in for a while and—“I don’t want to set a bad example to Sarah that we have to stay in spaces that make us unhappy just because our past selves made the decision to go there in the first place.”

“That's not what’s on my mind,” he laughs out. “But I love you.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” I ask. 

He shrugs and lays himself back down onto me gently. “Trying to figure out how to make you the brains behind this operation so you don’t have to be a nurse anymore at all,” he says. “I don’t think you particularly like it and I want you to have the freedom to figure out what you do like.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“It's not my job,” he mumbles, sleep crawling deeper into his voice. “Remember you told me nobody was going to be mad at me if I tried to be a contractor and fucked up?”

“I didn’t exactly say that—“

“Shhh.” He mouths the sound into my pulse point, sending a shiver down my spine and I feel him smile as I clench around where his fingers are still buried in me. “Nobody is going to be mad at you for changing your mind on a career you decided on at eighteen out of the hurt you held inside of you for just existing.”

“You promise?” It’s the first time I’ve asked him to affirm his words for me. We made big decisions; had big conversations. Months ago, I never would’ve left my job because it was just me and, well, it was what was holding me together so I didn’t have to think of much else. Now, though, I don’t want to quit because it’s not just me. It’s him and a house and family he invited me into and made me apart of.

He laughs out, low into the skin of my neck, increasingly hot from his words and his breath and his movements causing blushes to run up the length of my body. “On my life,” he whispers.

August 26, 2003:

Another check up with the doctor and he confirmed it—I’m good to go back to work next week.

I wish I could even begin to describe how nauseas it makes me but Joel took care of that by bringing up the panic attacks and the nightmares. 

I begged him not to come, told him he didn’t have to leave work to accompany me to the doctor and, yet, here he is. White knuckling the steering wheel with a set jaw as he drives from the hospital to the therapist.

Sarah’s been in the office a lot this summer but this is the first time Joel’s tagged along.

When Julia sees him, she asks if he’d like to join the session but he declines saying he doesn’t want to take up time away from me. She insists that she thinks it would be a good idea but respects his decision, only barely saying we’d see him in an hour when he changes his mind.

“Has she told you she’s having panic attacks?” Joel asks. She looks to me for permission to speak but Joel takes it to mean that I haven’t told her at all. “Nightmares, too,” he continues. “And they want her to go back to work next week, she’s on the schedule and everything.”

“I'm always on the schedule for those days, Joel,” I tell him. “They didn't take me off, they just crossed me out.”

“Call in sick,” he says. “Call in sick until your resignation time is up.”

“Resignation?” Dr. Bonner asks. “You've decided, then?” 

“I did,” I tell her. “I haven’t put it in yet, though.” When I turn to Joel, that vein in his head is sticking out. “I can’t put my resignation in while I’m still on leave, they won’t finish paying it out—they’ll use up all my vacation time instead and I would prefer to have that money in my savings account.” 

Ever since I said I wanted to leave that morning, he’s been more than on board—he’s been ready for me to send the letter now.

“I take it the money aspect isn’t a problem for you, Joel?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care about the money,” he says. “So long as I can keep a roof over my family’s head and food in their mouths, money doesn’t mean much to me at all. She could decide she wants to be a circus clown and I would hate it simply because that’s terrifying but I would support her.” 

“Alison, you’ve talked a bit about how anxious you are over the thought of disappointing Joel so I’m curious to know how you feel hearing these words come out of his mouth?”

“He says stuff like this all the time,” I say.

“Yeah, but you’re always convincing yourself in some way or another that I’m just saying things to be nice to you even though we established that I don’t talk just to hear my own voice, Alison.” He turns back to Dr. Bonner, eyes hard and soft at the same time. “With the panic attacks and the nightmares, I don’t want her going back into that environment. If she doesn’t feel safe there, I definitely don’t care about the money.”

“Do you feel safe there, Alison?” She asks.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” I say. “Yeah, I mean…” I shrug. “This is the first incident I’ve ever had, of course I feel safe there.”

“Ah, but that’s just the thing isn’t it? It’s the first time it’s ever happened,” she says. “So there’s never been a chance for them to prove that your safety is actually their top priority because it hasn’t happened before and we know you’re not a fan of big emotions or events like this.”

“Joel, you drafted the letter with me,” I say. “My last day is on your birthday! I work that morning”—I count on my fingers—“you work that day, we come home and have dinner and get good sleep and then we fly to Wyoming in the early morning on Saturday.”

For his birthday, I found a ranch out near Jackson Hole that doubles as a hotel and has horse riding and other cowboy bullshit for him to live his old western dreams out. We’re going for a week to decompress before the project at the hospital starts.

“What did I tell you about not treating me like I’m broken and fragile, Joel?” I ask. “What did I ask you not to do?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m doing that.”

“And I’m telling you that you are.” It comes out half a tease because he’s being petulant and bratty like a child. Truth is, he said I could be a stay at home wife and he’d be fine with it but I know it’s that protective nature coming out of him. I’m shocked he even lets Sarah go to school sometimes. “I can’t believe you joined my therapy session to tell on me that I have panic attacks but we know that, sweetheart—I’m in therapy for it.” 

He holds his finger up to stop me. “I am not being bratty and you're in therapy to help you make sense of the things that cause you hurt and learn how to better communicate, PG, not for the panic attacks so please forgive me for worrying about you.” 

Julia smiles, eyes darting between us like she’s following a tennis match. “She said how easily you two speak with each other but, I have to admit, I did have a hard time believing it. It’s so nice to see it.”

Joel slips his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “What did you want to talk about before I walked in here and screwed up your plan?”

“I wanted to talk about how you were behaving like a brat, actually.”

His chest rises and falls against me as his laughter pushes out into the open air. “Okay, baby,” he concedes. “I'll keep my mouth shut for the rest of the time.”

He doesn’t but he does try, even as Dr. Bonner and I talk about how he asked my mother and grandmother for permission to marry me.

“Why is it important for you to ask permission, Joel?” She asks. “You know she’s going to say yes, you’ve already discussed it and everything you’ve said about your daughter makes it seem as though Sarah’s more than fine with it as well.”

He smiles and takes a deep breath. “I know she’s going to say yes but I don’t want her making any rash decisions,” he says. "I don’t want her saying yes and not knowing if everybody else in her life thinks she’s making a huge mistake with me.”

“And?” She asks, head cocked to the side to study him.

He wipes his palms on his jeans and swallows before clearing his throat. “And I know how she gets about big changes and emotions, I’m trying not to put too many on her at once. I don't want her to say yes because she can’t read her own feelings and I tell her all the time that it’s okay to change her mind about things and want different for herself but once we cross that line, I know her changing her mind on me will break my heart in a way that I not sure I’d be able to fully come back from.” 

There are those fears again.

His pleas to break his heart but do it quickly; give him warning; let him dodge the impact.

The impact can’t be dodged now so the barrier has been moved and rebuilt.

Turning to him, I ask if he knows that I feel the same. Ask if he knows I look at him sometimes and imagine him throughout the years and then break my own heart as I imagine him with somebody else.

Somebody else who gets to grow old with him. Who sees the scar on his nose fade out as his freckles get darker beneath years in the sun.

“You can’t cover all of your insecurities about us up with saying you think I’ll regret it, Joel,” I tell him. “It’s not fair to me, especially after all the ways that I’ve shown you that I’m in this.”

“I know.” He runs the flat of his hand across the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “That's why I never say anything, I know I’m being irrational but it’s that knowledge that makes me want to be sure that everybody else backs you up on your decision to move forward with me,” he goes on. “These people and what they think mean a lot to you which means they mean a lot to me. It wasn’t just you who came into my family, Alison. You brought me into yours, too.” 

August 29, 2003:

Save for most of the furniture and a few other pieces of my life outside of his house, I’m moved in officially.

He didn’t add me to the mortgage but he did add me to the deed, said it gives me ownership without financial responsibility over it all and, even though he knows I’m taking the financial responsibility anyway, he doesn’t want me to be tied up in it. Not while the business is still new and tied to the mortgage. This way if something goes south, I can take over that aspect and he can close the business with no repercussions to Sarah.

Truthfully, I don’t know what much of it means and I’m not trying too hard to figure it out. Because I know I’ll just confuse myself more and things are kind of overwhelming as it stands right now as he keeps handing me paint chips to decide what color to paint our room.

Our room.

Ours.

That’s all I care about, that it’s ours.

“Green,” I tell him, pointing towards the section of greens.

"Doesn't match your bedspread, though,” he says.

Shrugging, I tell him we can get another bedspread. “I want at least one wall to be dark green, we can figure out the rest when we find a bedding set we like.”

He’s dragged me around all day today, excited to start decorating things with both of us in mind. Until now, his bedroom has been blue, everything else mismatched because the only thing he cares about is making Sarah’s space comfortable. But now his space is mine too and he wants to give that same comfort to me. 

"We don’t have to figure it all out right now, Joel,” I insist. “Grab a couple of samples and we’ll put them on the wall to see which ones we like better but there’s a lot going on, we can save this project for later.”

“If we save it for later, it’s never gonna get done, Ali.” 

Everything smells like sawdust and while that’s usually such a comforting scent for me, that’s only when it’s coming off his skin or in his truck. That’s only when it’s mixed in with all the other smells of him; his deodorant; his body wash; the natural scent of him. Right now, it's just giving me a headache and the paint fumes that are drifting over from the spill on the next aisle aren’t helping.

“It'll happen,” I insist. "If not here, then in the house we build together when the business takes off, there are other things that are pressing.”

Eyebrow raised, he asks me what’s more important than feeling comfortable in my space, scoffing when I tell him I am comfortable in our room. I’ve been comfortable in it and that's why I find it so easy to sleep there.

Hands raised to my lips like a prayer, I promise him that the color of the walls doesn’t matter to me and if he’s so concerned with the paint matching my bedspread then what it looks like now is more than perfect. “Baby, you said we were going to have an afternoon date and all I’m getting is a headache. I love you so much for wanting to make my space beautiful and comfortable but I am telling you that it already is because you are in it.”

“Okay,” he says on a nod. “But don’t be shocked if you come home one day and it’s just done.”

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I push my face into his chest and breathe deep, holding there with him for quiet moments of nothing but the steady beat of his heart in one ear and the high pitched beeping of heavy machinery backing up in the other. “I trust you,” I say after another deep breath. “I don't know how to decorate to save my life but I love the space you created for your family before I was in it and I will love the space you create for our family now.”

Holding onto me, I can feel his smile stretched wide across his face as he presses a kiss into my crown. “Okay,” he whispers.

It really is as simple as this, it always has been with us.

No games, no hiding. Even when I’ve wanted to, neither of us have allowed it. Even if he’s stubborn or I’m stubborn, we listen to one another and nothing is ever an argument because we never let it get to that point.

He calls my attention up to him and looks down at me, thumb stroking over the swell of my cheek as his eyes only seem to deepen even beneath the fluorescent lighting all around us. For a moment, I think he’s going to blurt it out right now, the way Sarah said he probably would. Maybe it’s because I think I’m acting stupid but I also know that my mother and grandmother called him this morning and I don’t know everything that was said but I do know that he was smiling after. 

Which means it could be any day now, it could all be any day now, and I know how I get with big emotions but I’ve settled into this one well enough that it’s not an emotion anymore. Not really.

I’m happy, I feel happy, but we’ve talked enough about it now that this isn’t a surprise that will throw me off my axis. This isn’t coming out of the blue to inform me that we’re not on the same page. At this point, this is an expectation of the next step with one another, thoroughly looked at from every angle. No part of it will surprise me because I feel safe enough with him to not be surprised. Because when everything else is happening all around me, I’ve found solace with him.

Even going back to the first moment we met one another, I felt calm and safe even beneath all of my nerves.

“Yes,” I tell him.

“I haven’t asked you anything.”

“I don’t care,” I tell him. “I love you and the answer is yes and also please paint a part of our room dark green or burnt orange, but don’t do both and I love you”—deep breath—“and the answer is yes.” 

[losingherface]

I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr