#joel is angry about this yall

[slimybeth69]

Rating: excplict

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea- if people like this I might make it into a fun little series

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings: reader is crazy, joel is a non willing participant-- at first. heavy on the non-con/dub-con. Eventual punishment, cockwarming, snuggling, pet names (for joel) unprotected p in v. so many more if I keep going with this.

This is just a little drabble I wrote to go along with that stupid thing I made in canva.

Girl Dinner <- the first installment.

Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair by ropes that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists.

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna be nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot scream, his voice muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth. Clad in only boxer shorts, a thin t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It's so fucking sexy.

He's still really mad; which sucked!

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, honey," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around your neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

To be continued...?

tagging people that showed interest--- @lilac-boo @gothcsz @sp00kymulderr @xdaddysprincessxx @pedrospookie @almostempty @creepycorbeaux

tell me if I should go on??

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

[alexispunkkk]

back where we started

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: dark!joel x fem!reader

- summary: joel is a horrible partner post-outbreak. he yells. isn't too nice. fucks.

- warnings: dark!!! dubcon, slapping, choking, hair tugging, unprotected piv (don't do this guys!), smut smut smut smut, degrading, yelling, no established relationship, rough sex, crying, unsafe sex, angry sex, joel has crazy anger issues, blood, huggeee nasty age gap (legal, though! your choice for age), public / outdoor sex, size kink, joel's got a massive dick lols, power imbalance, submission, no aftercare, squirting, dirty talk, thigh riding if you squint, manhandling, joel is just incredibly mean. total asshole.

- word count: 4.5k

- author’s note: feining for mr joel miller recently so i wrote this... my first joel fic!! its gross yall. have your fun though!

—————————————୨ৎ

Partnering up with Joel Miller wasn’t ideal. He’s always looking at you like you’re some problem he doesn’t know how to solve – like you’re just cargo he’s exhausted of having to drag along. 

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s honestly an asshole. A real fucking dick, a mean bastard. To everyone else you meet, you’re a well loved, sweet girl. To Joel, though, you’re a burden. He’s a miserable person, and hanging around him only came with the positive that he knew how to hunt, how to keep you decently safe. But, hey, it’s better to be stuck with a brute of a man than to be infected. Right?

For whatever reason, the frustration has been building worse than usual for the past few days. You move like you’re on eggshells, do anything to not upset him, stay quiet when you’re asked and obey his every order. But it’s Joel fucking Miller. Nothing is ever enough with him. 

You’re young, but that's not a valid excuse for Joel. He expects as much out of you as he would another man his size and seniority, which is totally unfair of a girl your age.

So every little mistake ticks him off. Really riles him up. His temper is really fired up today for whatever reason, and you’re trying your best to not exacerbate it. 

—————————————୨ৎ

Joel should know now your most common flaws – he does pay attention, but that mind of his was too preoccupied with his fresh plan to head east to remember just how forgetful you tend to be. 

You remember twenty minutes after you leave. Everything is packed up, rifle on Joel’s thick shoulder, sleeping bags taken from Bill and Frank’s now deserted house strapped to your backs. Everything but one thing. And arguably, the most important thing for the new change of route. 

“Can y’get me out the map, girl?”

Girl. He always insists on calling you that. Rather derogatory, like he doesn’t wanna address you by a human name. Just girl.

At the question, your steps stutter. A little patch of dirt kicked up from your shoe hits the back of Joel’s calf, earning a soft grunt. “You fuckin’ deaf now? I said gimme the damn map.”

He knows what your silence means, and in that moment he's about to lose his goddamn mind. His feet stop bluntly, his large, brooding frame turning to face you. 

Your pace slows soon after him, halting to a nervous stop while your gaze flickers from its usual spot on the ground up into his dark eyes. A warning look.

“Better not tell me you lost the fuckin’ thing.” 

No words come out of your mouth, let alone even pop into your head; all you can seem to do is stare up at him like a mindless idiot, his height towering over yours when he takes a small step closer.

Again, your steps follow, this time backward. You stumble back half a foot, a twig cracking under the shift of your weight. Out of nervous habit, your left hand reaches for the right wrist, gently stroking the skin to keep yourself somewhat calm.

“Joel, I didn’t–”

His movements match your own, his large, calloused hands lurching forward to rip your hand off your wrist. It gets replaced with his own grip, but much tighter. Aggressive. Taut. Outraged. 

“Y’didn’t what? Didn’t think for once how t’not be a goddamned idiot?” He snarls, his untamed fingernails digging into the skin for a moment and leaving tiny crescents into the first layer. “Why d’you always gotta be like this, girl? Fuckin’ stupid…”

He trails off, removing his tight grip on your forearm, but not without hostility. He lets go but ends it with a good yank. Not hard enough to pop it out of place, but hard enough to get a quiet whimper out of your shy throat.

You never know what to say when he gets like this. Whether to defend yourself, whether to stay shut up and take the tirade. But you sure know well enough not to fight back – that’s how to get your arm pulled out of the socket.

“I–I swear, Joel. I had it, I don’t know where it went.”

He never takes your stupid excuses. They’re useless, he’ll never believe you. He knows that you know you forgot it at the last spot you camped out. And this time, the excuse was a pathetic mumble, your eyes glued at your wrist and the mark he left when he gripped it. Even more to make your pitiful case unconvincing. 

“Yeah, the hell you do. Quit lyin’, you know damn well where that map is.” He scoffs, brushing past you with a shove to the shoulder, his larger figure knocking you a few inches with a soft oof. “Back in the woods where you left it, ain’t it?”

Of course, you can’t plead your case anymore. You give in, nodding in submission and trudging after him once he turns around, back in the direction where you surely left the damn map. 

“...Yeah.” You murmur, rubbing a dry hand across the bottom half of your face, against your snotty nose. Not because you’d been crying, this is nothing from Joel yet. Just because the month has been terribly cold and sleeping outside every night isn’t doing you well. “At our last camp. M’sorry.”

“Always fuckin’ sorry. Sorry for almost gettin’ yourself killed, sorry for forgetting somethin’ again and again. M’sick of your shit.” He grunts, readjusting the rifle strapped over his shoulder. 

When you first met him, words like that got to you, as much as you hate to admit it. But now, everything seems to fade together. He’s just Joel. That’s how he is. And you’ve gotta live with it and try your best to not piss him off. 

To your luck, he shuts up and stops berating you – at least until you’re close to the previous camp spot. Just silence, interrupted only by the awkward shuffling of your steps behind him, desperately trying to keep up with his longer strides and stay quiet to not worsen his anger.

But when you get close enough and he has to start looking for the damned map, his mumbling and annoyance boils over once again, infiltrating the somewhat comfortable silence that your ears just got used to.

“Map was the only fuckin’ thing getting us around… no goddamn compass.” Joel mutters under his breath. Not at you, for once, but just a natural spilling of his frustration. He’s always gotta be mumbling about something, even in his sleep. “Slow me down enough as is. Gotta lose everythin’, too.”

You joined aimlessly behind him, searching around the patchy grass, anywhere for the map that was stressing him out so terribly. 

Minutes go by. He’s getting angrier by the minute, his hands flexing while he crouches down and searches. Mad, but still pretty tame for a pissed-off Joel Miller. 

That is, until he glances up and actually gets a look at you for the first time in an hour. He normally avoids any eye contact, avoids even peeking over at you. At that damn little frame… so much younger, sweeter. He seemingly hates having you around because you always tick him off, but what he hates more is the temptation that comes with having a pretty little girl by his side at all times.

He finally lets his eyes fall on you. But this time, he can’t even get his usual peek at your lips or neck, because something else catches his eye. A familiar shred of paper – just the fucking corner – poking out the zipper of your backpack. 

He genuinely slaps himself in the face, eyes turning dark and fists curling up in pure rage at the sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

He growls. Not a question, but a threat. His eyes are black at this point, breath speeding up while he takes another step toward you. Not cautious like he’ll sometimes let himself be, but warring. 

You’re confused for a bit, as you hadn’t seen the map in your own bag. Or even thought to look before you turned around and walked a half hour back, a complete waste of your time. “Oh…”

He starts again, his voice much lower than usual. Dangerous.

“You wanna tell me…” Joel breathes, stepping towards you even more until he’s got you backed against a tree. Bark pushing your shirt and jacket up, scraping at the bare skin of your lower back. “Why the hell we just wasted an hour of our time, when the map was practically right in your fuckin’ hand!”

As he curses, your heart drops. You don’t have time to react before his hands are up, flying at you. You flinch, thinking they’re coming to hurt you, but they’re reaching into your backpack. 

And sure enough, there it is. The map you spent so much valuable time fussing over. Right on your damn back. 

‘I didn’t know, Joel. Didn’t think to check.” You whimper and choke out from the back of your throat, weak and apologetic. Again, he’s not one for excuses and apologies. He’s on you before you can even think, hand forcing the map in your face.

His palm hits your mouth when he shoves the paper, a direct blow to your jaw. Your lip comes in forced contact with your bottom row of teeth, tearing the skin and swelling instantly. The only thing that can escape your mouth now is a pained whimper, which agitates the furious man on top of you worse. 

“Fuckin’ idiot. Wastin’ my damn time like always. Do you ever think?” He scoffs and backs up, maybe half an inch. 

When he notices your slightly busted lip, it brings him a sense of triumph. You ticked him off and now you’re gonna pay for it. And you sure enough feel guilty enough to not stop him, so he’s got you trapped now.

You’re frozen in place against the tree, refusing to move or utter out even the smallest of another noise. Suddenly, Joel’s mind is more occupied by the girl under his grip, shaking like a damn leaf with a bleeding and busted lip. 

“Asked you a question, little shit.” He grunts and lets his hand venture up to your jaw, pushing it around like a toy before settling with a tight grip, squeezing your cheeks and watching how the blood oozes from your lip at the pressure. “Said, do you ever fuckin’ think?”

Sure, he’s yelled at you plenty, disciplined you, maybe put his hands on you out of frustration a couple of times before. But it never feels like this. His hands usually let up after they land on you, but now he’s squeezing at your face and looking into your hazy eyes as if this is a challenge.

“Mm.” You whine, throat bobbing while you adjust to the feeling of his huge hand gripping your face. “N-no.” 

Your voice is only the softest of a mutter. 

“Speak up, girl. Didn’t hear ya’.” He rolls his eyes, giving your face a nice knead and jerking it to the side to jolt you up more. 

A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, head jerking to the right at the flick of his wrist. He holds it against the tree, your ponytail getting caught on the rough edge of the bark, the lumber scraping your ear.

“No. Don’t–don’t ever think enough. M’sorry. Wasn’t… wasn’t thinkin’.”

You sigh, head lifting up while you feel the familiar sensation of your throat tightening up, eyes starting to burn. But you keep it in. 

Joel hums, jerking your head again and shoving it harder onto the hard bark. “Damn right. Don’t think. A fuckin’ burden on me.”

He’s not doing it because he’s mad anymore. Hell, he’s already forgotten about the stupid map that caused all of this. He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.

And you know that’s all he wants.

His gaze is different, his tone similar to but not matching the genuine anger you hear from him most of the time. There's a hint of more challenge in it, maybe even passion. The hand on your jaw only confirms that.

“Shoulda’ left you behind when I got the chance.” He mutters, knowing that threatening to leave you really gets under your skin. Honestly, he’s all that you have, and you’d be dead without him. So that always seems to hurt a little more than some name calling. 

You don’t react, gulping and keeping still at his arduous words. Getting no reaction from you riles him up worse, his free hand coming down to strike at the wood above your head. You flinch, and a tear unpromptedly rolls down your cheek. You don’t feel it until Joel curses, laughing in disbelief and moving his hand from your jaw down to your throat.

He squeezes. Not tight, not yet. A groan escapes his throat, low and almost pained. And before you know it, he’s got his body pressed against yours, rubbing you uncomfortably into the rotting tree. 

“Such a fuckin’ mess.” He grunts, one hand around your throat to cut off any words and the other moving to your chin to move your gaze up to him. “Cryin’ like a baby when you were the one that lost the map.” 

Your pulse jumps when he degrades you, and he swears he sees something else in your eyes this time. Not the usual fear, but something that looks like arousal. 

It sparks something in him, and he wants to see it again. His hand tightens on your neck, earning a pained gasp from your pretty throat. Your eyes lock, and he watches your head tilt back against the tree, your eyes fluttering slightly.

He can’t take much more. A tiny whimper comes out of you when his knee presses against your thigh. 

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Joel growls. Low. Frustrated. He gives up on the choking, instead gripping the back of your head and taking hold of your messy ponytail. He tugs, tilting your head more, his big aquiline nose moving down to bump under your ear and rub along the cold curve of your jaw. 

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” He whispers, his unkempt scruff that he calls a beard brushing up against you, scratching deep into the skin he just had a hand wrapped around. “Feel you gettin’ turned on. Fuckin’ slut, getting all worked up when I’m angry with you.”

You can’t do anything but take his advances and cry softly, feeling the cotton of your panties dampening each time his gruff voice comes out against your ear, his harsh breath biting at your neck. 

“Don’t got time for th’shit.” He mutters, but you hear his resolve dropping. He’s getting less and less frustrated over you wasting time, but more frustrated over the fact that he’s got his knee between your legs and he can feel the heat seeping through the fabrics, even in the biting cold weather. “Don’t got time for you makin’ me… makin’ me–ngh.”

His words stop, replaced by a low grunt into your ear the second your body even twitches against his. The grip on your ponytail tightens, tugging backward and earning a needy whine from you.

As much as he wants to keep degrading you, making you feel worthless under him, he’s feeling pretty pathetic himself. And he never gets like this with women.

His nose bumps your ear one more time before he can’t take it – his lips crash into yours. It’s not friendly. It’s not intimate. It’s fucking rude.

He intrudes, letting go of your hair and grabbing your body instead to push you against the damn tree harder. Mouths battle, and he wins, nipping hard and tasting the metallic blood from where he busted your lip earlier. Yum. 

“Joel.” You whimper, finally. It’s music to his ears, but he can’t show that. He has to be tough, not show that he’s into this. Not into the young girl he’s supposed to be training.

Joel grumbles, bringing a hand up to mindlessly slap at the side of your face at the sound of your whimper. 

“Shut up.”

And you do.

You’d do anything he told you right now. The feeling of him slapping you, biting your lips, pressing his thick knee between your thighs has got you absolutely pathetic. It’s fucking disgusting, you know that. To be so grossly into the fifty-six year old man that’s been taking care of you, the one that relentlessly bullies you and makes you feel like a worthless burden.

But you like it. You’d be anything for him, even if it meant being a worthless, pathetic burden. 

Joel’s got control. Obviously. His hand that slapped you runs over the heated skin in the same spot, almost to soothe it. What a gentleman. His lips slow on yours for a moment, latching onto the neck he had his hand around earlier instead.

In the deep woods, the only sounds heard are the birds above and his angry gasps against your skin, breathing like a madman. The softer sounds are interrupted by one of his belt clinking, being unbuckled mindlessly. And then the rustle of fabric. And then the unfamiliar sound of denim against Joel’s rough skin.

He’s straining against his boxers. Hard. Harder than he thinks he may ever have, but you don’t know that. You can tell he’s big through the fabric. It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind maybe once or twice, but you would never have expected for it to be pressed against your thigh, dangerous amounts of precum slowly leaking through the thin fabric of his briefs. 

You distract yourself while he gets busy attacking your neck and working your pants off – you don’t wanna believe it. Joel Miller is about to fuck you. He slapped you, choked you, degraded you, sure. That’s believable. But now he’s going to fuck you with that giant cock of his. 

As if it helps you not give in too much, you look everywhere to try and distract yourself. Down. His boxers read CALVIN KLEIN at the top. Up. The top button of his flannel came undone. He’s got a lot of chest hair. Behind him. There’s a bird watching him gnaw at your neck and tear your pants off, watching his bulging cock rub against your covered thigh. 

And the map is on the ground behind him.

“Fuck you lookin’ at?” He finally interrupts your private session of ‘I spy,’ breathing heavy against your skin and cupping your clothed cunt through your panties. “Look at me.”

You look up, gaze locking with his again. His eyes are equally as dark, but not with anger anymore. Desire. 

He’s gripping extra hard, hands splayed across your waist – almost big enough to wrap around, to grip you real good. Joel’s eyes travel all down your body in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, your pants torn down and now discarded on the forest floor. 

“Gonna fuck the stupidity right outchya’, yeah?” He chuckles, hoisting your body up to keep you settled between him and the tree. “‘N I want you lookin’ at me while I do it, kay’, girl? Eyes up. C’mon now.”

You can do nothing but oblige. Your eyes dart up, staying on him, even when he pulls his cock out that you so badly want to get a look at. The sound of him stroking himself, little grunts escaping his throat mindlessly, is so fucking tempting. 

But you listen, eyes staying on him, hoping to get some kind of praise from him for the first time in your life. Or maybe you want to keep getting debased. Maybe both. You seem to like the shame of it. 

“Gonna fuck you s’good you never forget anythin’ again. M’still pissed about that map, y’hear me?” He grunts, lifting you effortlessly to move his cock up into place. He’s so strong, and you’re so little. He can manhandle you however he wants, use you for his pleasure. And maybe you want that. 

From your mouth slips an obedient hum, your head shaking in a little nod so he knows you’re listening. You swear you see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, but he replaces it within half a second with a grumble to maintain the tough guy look. 

His cock meets your slick after he pulls your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. You’re not worth the time. Not after wasting that time with the map debacle. 

The pulsing head of it drags along your slit, collecting a bit of you on the tip, making a filthy mix with his precum. It’s been a minute since any intimacy for Joel, but he can’t let you know anything. Can’t show any kind of vulnerability. He keeps it in, biting his lip and grunting to avoid any embarrassing soft noises.

“Ain’t stoppin’ if you can’t take it, by th’way.” He grumbles into your ear, his tip just barely edging into your soaked cunt. You whimper, and he squeezes your waist in warning. If he didn’t have to be holding you up, he’d have hit you again. 

But, the soft noises you let out make him want more. You seem to let them out when you’re scared – or maybe it's out of arousal. Only from when he totally degrades you. He doesn’t care, he just wants to fuck you senseless.

“Could break ya’ if I wanted. Little… tight fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, head hitting the tree next to yours when his cock finally slides in. It was a fight to get in, your tight walls not stretched enough for his fat dick to fit due to your lack of experience. “Take ya’ how I fuckin’ want.’

If this was any other man, you’d cry and beg for him to stop. But Joel. It’s Joel. Joel fucking Miller. 

It hurts, but his threatening words seem to egg you on. They prod you to take it, try harder to take the thick cock that’s splitting your body right in half.

He doesn’t start slow like some guys. Joel doesn’t start slow. Ever. Joel Miller fucks, and he fucks how he wants. This isn’t about you, this is about him getting his worth back after you wasted all his damn time. 

His hips slam into you at an alarming pace, no time for you to stretch out and adjust to the movement. He’s already hitting deep enough to where, if your shirt was off, you could see the print all the way in your stomach. But no. Your shirt is on. Joel Miller doesn’t care enough to worry about a shirt, that’s foolish. He just wants pussy – no, needs it. He’s a man with priorities. 

You’re screaming, pain and pleasure. Usually he’d tell a woman to ‘shut the fuck’ up for being too loud, but you’re in the middle of the woods. Nobody around, except for the same fucking bird that’s continuing to watch you get destroyed and ripped open by a fifty-six year old. Great.

“God, baby. You’re fuckin’ helpless.” He grunts into your neck, resolve slowly slipping more. His noises get worse, louder. He doesn’t care enough anymore to pretend like this is some chore. 

He’s fucking you and he means it. 

Joel’s hips stutter after a few minutes, just in time with your own. Synced up perfectly. His rhythm is getting out of pace while you feel the pull deep in your core you haven’t felt in so long – white hot pooling in your stomach. You clench around him.

He can’t speak anymore, just like how you haven’t been able to for minutes now. All he can manage out are little grumbles into your hair, squeezing your body while he struggles with words. Getting pathetic himself.

“Fuckin’-- mm. Baby. Baby. Gon’cum soon.” 

At least he warns you. 

You could tell, anyway. The stuttering of his hips, the way he’s only hitting nice and deep now. But you’re in worse, you can’t warn him because your mouth is hung open entirely, spilling out the most pitiful string of moans that doesn’t seem to ever end. 

Without warning, you clench again. He groans, but gets louder when he feels you spill. Burst. All over his aching cock. 

“Shit, shit. You – you squirtin’?” Joel grumbles out, body spasming at the feeling of your liquids all coming out at once. Your legs are shaking, and he feels his own limbs join in. It was too much for him. 

He cums. Hard. Maybe harder than he ever has before, but you don’t have to find that bit out. 

The moment melts into a disgusting mess of simultaneous moans, whimpers, even from Joel. Despite the cold weather that was almost making you sick earlier, you feel hot. Sweaty. Both of  you.

Joel’s head comes to rest atop yours, stroking the back of your ponytail that he’d been tugging at the whole time. And for a moment – just a short moment – you thought he’d maybe take care of you after. Like a real man. 

But no. Apparently, you don’t know Joel well enough by now. He’s his own kind of man.

Once his breathing returns – somewhat – he’s back to ole’ Joel Miller. Grunts, huffs and drops you down by the tree. Tucks his spent cock back in. Before you know it, before you can speak, his pants and belt are back in place and his rifle is strapped back on his shoulder.

Your eyes shut, back scraped up from the rough tree he fucked you relentlessly against. Taking a shuddering breath, you rest for a moment, thinking that if he didn't give you any aftercare he’d at least let you have a moment to breathe. 

But again, no.

“Fuck you doin’?” 

Your single moment of silence is rudely interrupted by his southern drawl, entirely back to normal as if he didn’t have the most intense sex of his life only two minutes ago. As if forgetting it ever happened. 

And the map is back in his hand. And he looks so normal compared to you. And it makes you want to cry for whatever reason. 

There’s nothing else to do but hold back a pained whine from the soreness already building in your body, the blood you feel dripping on your back from the tree, and the metal taste of blood where he hit your lip. The slap on your cheek. The handprint on your throat. Fuck.

“C’mon, little shit. Gotta hurry. Now you wasted an hour of my time.”

[valeisaslut]

is joel married? 😖

who is ellie's mother? what happend to her? was ellie even planned?!!! 😭😭😭😭

Is her official name ellie miller? is ellie williams just a pseudonym?!!

WOW LIDDY I LOVED THIS QUESTION!!!! i've been waiting to REALLY unravel ellies past and i was wondering when were yall gonna ask ab it lmao

COLLIDE ROCKSTAR!ELLIE'S BACKSTORY: DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY EDITION!

so!!! ellie was the product of one of joel’s wild rockstar one night stands. very much not planned. her mom dipped super early on—like, didn’t even try to stick around—and basically left her with joel, who, despite being a complete mess of a man, actually did raise her. but ellie always knew she wasn’t exactly “wanted” by either of them. not in the traditional, soft-family-photo-on-the-fridge kind of way. she never knew her mother, never wanted to. didn’t feel like she was missing anything and just didn’t care.

but the pain of her mom’s abandonment still lingers, quiet and buried deep in her mind, like a bruise she never touched but never actually healed.

joel and ellie had a really good relationship when she was younger. as good as it could’ve been. he wasn’t perfect—not super affectionate or emotionally open—but he showed up. he did his best. he taught her to play guitar, made pancakes every sunday morning, and called her “kiddo” like it meant something deeper than just a nickname. and she loved him for that. still does.

ellie grew up inside a damn rock music museum. joel’s mansion was less “home” and more shrine to his own legacy—walls lined with platinum records, grammys catching sunlight, mtv moonmen posted up like they were part of the family. every room had a poster of him at some legendary venue: madison square garden, glastonbury, the o2.

his name in lights. the biggest of the biggest musicians scribbled messages on his guitars, which he had over fifty of—lined up like they were sacred artifacts.

and yeah, he was a legend. ellie would sit on the stairs at night, listening to him blast his old albums on the surround system like he forgot she lived there too. sometimes she hated it. sometimes she’d mouth the lyrics and pretend she wasn’t proud. but mostly? it just made her feel like she’d never measure up. like no matter how loud she got, she’d always be chasing a ghost with a grammy in each hand.

joel never really understood ellie’s world. or her pain. and as she got older, things shifted. she started the fireflies. she got famous. she felt the weight of being “joel miller’s daughter” and her own person.

people had opinions about her—too loud, too angry, too queer, too much. and that pressure? that scrutiny? it ate at her. she started numbing herself very early on—drinking, using, pushing people away. joel tried to talk to her, tried to help, but it always came out sounding like disappointment. like judgment. and she couldn’t take that. so she pushed back. harder. until eventually they stopped talking. not because they didn’t care—because it hurt too much to try and fix it.

there was no final fight. no door slam. just a slow fade. calls unanswered. messages left on read. it’s one of those heartbreaks that doesn’t look like a heartbreak unless you know what to look for.

and still—she loves him. god, she does. but she carries so much shame now. so much guilt. and joel? he’s scared. scared of what she’s become, scared of saying the wrong thing, scared that maybe he already did. figures to the prologue, chapter two, four and specially five.

and the last name thing? yeah. “williams” just sounded good. she liked how it looked on a poster. people always assumed it was her mother’s last name or something deep but it really wasn’t. she just didn’t want to walk into every room and be immediately tied to joel. didn’t want to hear the whispers of “oh, that’s joel miller's kid.” didn’t want to live in his shadow, even if she still carries all of his fire, his temper, his sadness, in her blood.

it’s messy. it’s layered. but there’s still love under all that wreckage. even if they don’t know how to say it right now. even if the silence is louder than anything they ever screamed at each other.

and for everyone asking, yes. joel will make an appearance on chapter 8.

[joelscruff]

stress relief (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place relatively early on in their relationship, between "safety" and "quickie". so due to me getting covid, i haven't written anything in the past little while. i'm still struggling with a lot of brain fog but i needed some more boyfriend's dad!joel in my life so here we are. hope yall like it 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (completely optional but always appreciated). summary: joel has a deadline he has to meet. perfect time for you to try cockwarming ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ratings: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: age gap, daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming, creampie, biting (blink and you'll miss it), cheating word count: 3.4k

sex with joel starts slow and easy.

the next time you see him, about a week after that tender moment between the two of you, you have sex with him in his office. it's quiet and careful, a private rendezvous that your boyfriend is blissfully unaware of. he games downstairs in his bedroom while his father pushes his cock inside of you and kisses you sweetly, over and over. your hands tangle in his hair, his glasses bumping against your nose until they fall to the floor along with your panties and his belt.

"oh honey," he groans in your ear as he fucks you deep, your hands digging into the cotton of his sweater as you lay beneath him on the couch, "that's it, sweetheart, there you go." his words have a power over you that you can't define, can only feel. you shudder and pull him closer as you come on his cock, whimpering in his ear.

"daddy," you find yourself whining; it's the first time you've said it out loud, and for a moment you're scared he'll stop, your hands still scrambling against his back and trying to pull him closer in case he does.

he doesn't say anything at first, but he pulls back and looks down at you with a curiosity in his soft brown eyes that doesn't seem disgusted or angry. your fingers dig into his back and you pull your lip between your teeth, panting as he continues to fuck you slow.

"daddy," you whisper again, staring directly in his eyes; a challenge? a message? you're not sure. he stares back for a few more moments, a few more thrusts. and then-

"that's right, babygirl," he murmurs, picking up the pace and reaching down to cradle your face in his big hands, thumbing your warm cheeks, "takin' it so good for your daddy, aren't you?"

and that's it. no complex conversations, no questions or arguments, he takes it at face value and that's that. he understands you. he knows that you need this. no judgement.

he finishes inside you - upon your request. you've been on birth control for a long time and you trust him, somehow even more than your own boyfriend. he wraps his arms around you tightly on the couch, pistons into you while you tug at his hair and moan against his lips. he fucks his come deep inside you until you see stars, then kisses you all over and murmurs the sweetest things, tells you you're perfect, that you did so well. the words and actions leave you in a state of pleasure and contentment you've never felt before. not until him.

he cleans you up and gets you dressed and then holds you in his lap while you bury your face in his neck and tell him all the things that have been bothering you lately. he listens and hums and kisses your nose and tells you he'll be here for you always. and you believe him.

"thank you, daddy," you say softly to him as you leave his office; he seems surprised by the word in a non-sexual context, eyebrows going up. but his surprised expression quickly fades into a tender smile.

"you're welcome, sweetheart," he says, voice soft and kind, "text me if you need to."

--

the next time you go back, you're afraid he'll have changed his mind. now that he's had you, fucked you, part of you anticipates that he'll end it, especially considering the daddy shit. you plan out in your head what you want to say before he can get a chance to break it off: i've never called anyone it before, it just slipped out. i just feel so safe with you. if it makes you uncomfortable i won't say it anymore, but please don't leave me. please.

it turns out your speech is unnecessary. when you find a free moment to sneak up to his office, he immediately pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead, trails his fingers up and down your back and whispers, "how's daddy's girl?"

you don't worry about it anymore after that.

--

"are you stressed?" you ask him one evening, that special day of the week when your boyfriend is beyond distracted by a tournament and barely even registers your existence; you'd come up to joel's office about fifteen minutes ago and he still hasn't noticed you never came back.

you've been watching joel work; that's what you like a lot about this relationship - it's not always about sex. sometimes you just sit in each other's presence, him working while you study a bit for a community college exam you've got coming up. you feel so safe just co-existing with him, never bored or on edge like you are when you're with your boyfriend.

joel is poring over blueprints at his desk, running his hands through his hair and grimacing down at the stack of papers like they're his worst enemy. he looks up at you when you speak, throws you a crooked smile.

"a little bit, honey," he says, eyes scanning back down at the papers as he gnaws his bottom lip, "got a job comin' up and we don't have nearly enough people to get it done in time. tryin' to figure out a schedule without overworkin' these poor folks."

you smile softly, "you're a good boss."

he shakes his head and chuckles to himself, "i don't know about that, but i'm sure as hell tryin'."

he leans back in his desk chair and sighs deeply, pushing his glasses down his nose and thumbing the space between his eyebrows like he always does when he's a little stressed. the way he pushes his legs open, presses up against the back of the chair... it looks like the perfect place to sit.

you get up from the couch and seat yourself in his lap, smirking when he doesn't even protest. he just leans back and smiles up at you, clicking his teeth and shaking his head, "you here to de-stress me?" he asks playfully, one of his hands coming up to squeeze your ass through your shorts.

"maaaybe," you reply melodically, rotating your hips a bit and smiling when you feel his cock already starting to harden in his pants, "if you'll let me."

he sighs to himself, still smiling but shaking his head, "you know i can't today, babygirl. got so much on my plate, need to have it done by five."

"i know," you pout, bringing your hands up to massage his shoulders a bit; his eyes close at your touch, lips parting as he enjoys a brief moment of pleasure, "i just hate seeing you stressed."

he grunts at that, eyes still closed as he leans back even further in the chair. you take this opportunity to grind your hips down into him again, your clothed pussy already getting wet with the sensation. he's almost fully hard now; it's so easy to get him turned on, to make him hard. how he has a better sex drive than your boyfriend is a complete mystery to you - the man is in his 40s and still manages to fuck you every time you ask for it, no pills necessary, sometimes not even any foreplay. meanwhile you can barely even recall the last time your boyfriend gave you any kind of worthwhile experience.

you lean forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, still rubbing and grinding as you whisper in his ear, "want you inside."

he groans, low and quiet, "fuck, sweetheart, why are you doin' this to me?" he doesn't sound irritated, proving it to you when his hands come up to slowly caress your back, "you know how hard it is for me to say no to you."

"then don't," you whisper, breath hot and wet in his ear. your hands move from his shoulders and carefully begin to undo his belt, fingers fumbling slightly due to the odd angle.

"honey, i gotta do my work," he murmurs, but you feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your face, almost like he's encouraging you to keep going, "daddy's busy right now."

you free his belt from its loops and toss it aside, your thighs loosening around him as you go for his zipper and start to pull it down, "then keep doing your work, i just wanna sit on it."

"oh fuck," he mutters, swallowing tightly as you finish unzipping him and begin to tug his waistband down. you both watch as his cock springs free, big and solid between you. you're practically dripping in your underwear, only getting wetter at the sight of him.

"can i sit on it, daddy?" you breathe, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes and give him your most innocent and pleading stare, "please?"

he groans again, shaky and husky as he begins to quickly nod, "yeah, okay, babygirl, you wanna sit on it? you sit on it."

with elation warming your chest you hurriedly stand up and yank off your shorts and underwear, loving the feeling of his eyes on your pussy for the briefest moment before you're back in his lap. he's dripping precum and you use it to your advantage, thumbing it from the tip and spreading it along his length in a few slow pumps. he moans softly and you smirk as you pull yourself up to position him at your entrance, warm and wet.

"you just keep doing what you're doing," you murmur in his ear as you slowly ease yourself down on his cock, letting out a few shaky whimpers, "a-and i'll just sit here 'til you're done."

he waits until he's fully sheathed inside of you to speak, one of his hands squeezing your ass again as he bottoms out, "and you really think you can just sit there without movin', huh?"

you nod, burying your face in his neck again and pressing your body tighter against his, gasping slightly when you feel the head of his cock prod your favorite spot deep inside you. he's so big and thick, exactly what you need every single time.

"i guess we'll see," he says softly, then carefully wheels the chair a bit closer to his desk, hands moving to grip your thighs as he goes back to his blueprints. the movement makes you whimper again, eyes shutting as you gasp into his skin, "i know, babygirl," he murmurs, "i know."

you both do surprisingly well for the first ten minutes or so. it's certainly an adjustment, having joel's cock so deep inside you without any sort of riding or thrusting, or any movement at all for that matter. you close your eyes and just focus on the feeling of being held, being full. you inhale his cologne and bask in the comfort and safety of it, nuzzle against the scruff of his beard and settle more loosely into his lap.

joel manages to do some work, pencil scratching here and there as he crosses things out and adds new things in, consults lists and tries to organize things better. you like listening to him work, like it even better when you can sit like this and be so close to him while he does it. why haven't you tried this sooner? there's something so relaxing about it, so soothing.

you wonder if your boyfriend has noticed your absence yet; it's almost like a game for you at this point, finding out when exactly he cares to notice that you're not in his room anymore, that you're not just sitting on his bed watching him yell at people online. it usually takes about an hour or so, and by that point you and joel have usually finished. you wish you had more time to spare with him, wish you could just be with him like this without the constant time limit looming over your head.

"feels so good," you find yourself whispering softly, and the sound of your voice makes his cock pulse inside you; you smirk at the reaction.

"it does," he agrees quietly, typing something into his computer but wasting no time in turning his head slightly to kiss your temple, "so tight around me, baby."

"love being full of you," you murmur, placing a kiss against his jaw in return, "love your cock."

he hums and noses your cheek, still typing something as he does it. you can't help but think of all the times you tried to show your boyfriend some affection while he was gaming and had just been met with anger and irritation. meanwhile joel has a deadline he's trying to meet but still makes time for this. the difference is staggering.

things start to get a bit difficult around the twenty minute mark; joel had moved the chair slightly and it had somehow resulted in his cock pushing just a little bit further inside, brushing the spot that makes you crazy. you're tensing around him now, breaths coming out a bit shorter as you dig your nails into his back and try your hardest not to move. he knows something's different, can feel the way your body language has changed in his lap.

"just a few more minutes, babygirl," he whispers, one of his hands dancing soothingly along your back, "almost done."

"i can't," you find yourself whining, thighs tightening in his lap as the head of his cock pulses and throbs against the deepest part of you, "i can't daddy, it's so much."

"i know," he murmurs, still rubbing your back as he clicks a few things with his mouse, "i know, baby, it's so deep, huh? but you can do it, just two more minutes."

you nod against his shoulder and whimper pitifully, wishing and hoping internally that it'll somehow be less than that. you're so wet, body aching as you brace down on his cock and wrap your arms tightly around him in the chair. you can feel every inch of him within your walls, every vein, every heavy throb, so big and thick inside of you that you almost want to cry. you're so full of him and so overwhelmed by his scent surrounding you, pulling you in.

"daddy," you whimper, biting down on your lip to try and keep your voice down, "daddy, i'm gonna come."

he's done clicking the mouse and back to typing, hand coming down from your back as he does the last few finishing touches to the schedule he's been working on this whole time, "that's alright, honey," he says quietly, "that's okay, you can come."

"n-need to move, just a little bit," you whisper, "just for a second."

"thought you said you'd be able to stay still, babygirl?" he murmurs, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "thought you just wanted to sit on daddy's cock, nothin' else?"

you whine in his ear, arms tightening around him, "i can't," you moan, almost shaking as your orgasm stirs in your belly, so close but so far, "it's too much, it's too big, i-"

"shhh," his hands are suddenly at your hips, fingers pressing into the soft skin as he holds you firmly on his cock, "it's okay, baby, i'm done, i'm all done."

"you are?" you pull back to look at him and you're ridiculously surprised to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel; he's taken off his glasses, brow furrowed in pleasure while spots of red bloom across his skin. his eyes are dark and hooded, lips wet and red like he's spent the past half an hour biting them - he probably has.

"i am," he says, voice deep and husky, "you did so good, sweetheart, so good for me," his gaze falls to where you're connected, and you can both see the way your wetness has stained his jeans, his underwear. he groans at the sight and pulls you against him again, one hand pressing flat against your back while the other travels upward to tangle in your hair, "hold on to me, angel."

it's all the warning you get before he's fucking up into you, hard and fast. it's like you haven't both spent the past twenty five minutes in quiet agony, the way he holds you tight and fucks you like you only have a few minutes. and maybe you do - you never know when your boyfriend might knock on the office door, wondering where you are. but that's part of the fun.

"there you go" he grunts in your ear, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin when you start to come, body shaking around him as you cry out and hold onto him tighter, "that's what my babygirl needed, huh?"

it's so hard to be quiet when you're having sex with joel - it's arguably the best sex of your life every single time. you're so close to screaming from the pleasure, from the relentless thrusts of his cock against your cervix while his balls slap against your ass. you have no choice but to dig your teeth into the thick cotton of his sweater, hoping he'll be okay with it, that it won't hurt him too much.

"oh fuck," he groans; clearly he's okay with it because the second your teeth dig into him he's gone, hips stuttering as he stills inside of you and pumps you full, fingers digging perfectly into your hips just the way you like.

you try to say daddy but your mouth is too full for the word to sound like anything substantial, though somehow he knows what you're trying to say. his hands come up to hold you close to him again, his lips pressing kiss after kiss along your cheek and jaw, murmuring praises until he's finished.

both of you sit there in silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and just existing with each other. eventually you have to clamor out of his lap, cock slipping out and making you both moan at the loss. it feels so strange to not have him inside anymore, not after being connected for so long.

he stands and tucks himself back into his pants, zipping himself up and looping his belt while you tug your panties back on. he watches, eyes still dark as you finger some of his come back inside yourself before pulling up your shorts. if there's anything you've both learned from these secret sessions, it's that you love being full of his release. and he loves that you love it.

"that was certainly something," he says with a breathless laugh, eyes coming back up to meet yours, "lasted much longer than i thought i would."

you grin, "did you actually get your work done?"

he grimaces, eyeing the computer, "i think so, but i'm gonna have to check it again and make sure i didn't accidentally put something about your pussy in there."

you feel yourself flush, looking shyly down at the floor, "yeah, that'd be bad."

he takes a step toward you and brings you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head a few times before settling his chin there. you shiver and press your face against his chest, unable to stop tears from pricking in your eyes. you squeeze him tighter and he tilts his head down a bit, nosing your hair, "what's on your mind, sweetheart?" god, he always knows when your mind is somewhere else, can always tell when there's something you're not saying.

"i just..." you sigh contentedly against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut and reveling in the safety of his embrace, "i just really like being with you, joel."

you don't say the other thing you're feeling, the big L word that's starting to feel like a weight on your chest every time you're with him. but it's only been two months, not to mention you're literally dating his son. how did you manage to get in this situation? how have you managed to fall in love with your boyfriend's father?

"i really like being with you too," he whispers softly, presses another kiss to your hair.

and it's enough for now.

[pennyold]

behavior | j.m

Summary: a small correction from your best friend's father will help you avoid being a badly behaved girl.

Warnings: plot then filthy shi, public exhibition, flirting, arguing, suggestive language, car sexism, fingering, oral (male receiving), choking, swearing, size kink, and orgasm denial.

w.c: 1,623

a/n: what yall think about this one? I fucking loved it, enjoy it !!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

Tess's phone started ringing in my hands, she was unconscious in front of me; I sat her in a chair, looked at her phone, and the name "dad" glowed on the screen, it stopped ringing and I felt relieved, I wouldn't know what to say about this. He called again, and I started thinking about what to invent in a message, I couldn't let him hear my voice.

"Hi, Dad," minutes later he replied, "Why don't you answer the calls, Tess? Are you still with your friend? Are you okay?" I answered each of his questions, and he responded calmly, his next message left me stunned, "I'll arrive in ten minutes, I can take my friend home. I don't like that place, and especially because you are being alone without someone to accompany you." I bit my lip thinking of a response, I answered and blocked the phone, putting it in my pocket.

Ten minutes later, I was outside the establishment with Tess in my arms. In the distance, I saw her dad's pickup truck, and my heart was pounding; I was very nervous. When he parked in front of us, he got out of the car, almost breathing fire as he walked towards me and Tess. "What the hell were you thinking?" He looked at me, and I just stared at the ground, feeling embarrassed. "Tess drank too much and has thrown up twice," I said. He shook his head and picked up Tess, carrying her to the back seat. "Get in the car. I'll take you home.”

Without saying a word, I got into the truck, buckled my seatbelt, and stayed silent until Joel got into the driver's seat, my skin prickled at the sight of his serious face; he was angry. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye during the ride, visualizing the scenery through the window when I saw the street of my house. I was about to speak, but I noticed how Joel tightened the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. I was screwed. 

Finally, I spotted a familiar street; we were near his house. He parked outside the house and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wait here," he said. I grabbed the edges of my skirt and said, "Okay." He took Tess from the back seat and brought her into the house; it took him a few minutes to return, I watched as he took firm strides, got into the truck, and looked at me, "Are your parents home?" I nodded, "Do your parents know I'm taking you home?" "Yes," he nodded. "Perfect." He started the truck.

During the ride, I noticed that he was dissatisfied and I wanted to apologize; I never meant to bring problems to either Tess or him. "Joel" without looking at me spoke "Yes?" I looked at my skirt, still held in my hands. "Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to lie to you and cause problems for Tess," he laughed. "I don't have problems with Tess, I do with you." Shit...

I looked out the window before speaking; I was cooked, if I said something wrong, it would be my end. I saw that I was not even remotely close to my home, it looked like a construction site about to be finished. I noticed how he moved the gear shift, and the truck stopped. "Joel..." he looked at me without any expression "You know what it means, darling.” I swallowed hard and quietly opened the door, but I couldn't leave because Joel grabbed it and slammed it shut. "Are you trying to escape from your punishment?" I shook my head in denial and shrank into the tiny space between the door and Joel's body. "So? Where would you go? Here, no one will listen to you, nor will they find you," I looked at him, pleading for mercy. "Don't look at me like that, you brought this on yourself," and he was right, I had done it, and I knew what the consequences would be.

Joel and I had agreed to please each other whenever the opportunity arose, as long as Tess and my parents didn't find out. One day, like today, I went out with Tess and lost her because I was with a guy. Joel showed up and asked me about her, and I didn't know where she was. He got angry just like today, and I got a punishment, painful, but I was very turned on.

I straightened up in my place and accepted my fate, I was being a brat by not accepting the punishment I deserved. "Good girl, always pleasing me," he looked me from head to thighs, as far as he could see. "What panties are you wearing?" "White lingerie," he smiled at me and sat up in his seat. "Take them off." I obeyed and took them off, allowing him a glimpse of my wet pussy. I slid the lingerie down my heels and handed them to him. He took them and tucked them into his pants pocket.

He patted his crotch; he wanted me to sit there, so I did. I felt my pussy brush against his bulge while adjusting myself, and Joel opened my legs, parting the folds of my core. I moaned and rested my head on his shoulder. "Joel," his breath grazed my neck, and I shivered when he brought his mouth close to my ear. "I didn't bring you here to please you, darling, relax." I bit my lip and nodded.

He rubbed my clit, and my legs trembled due to the sensation of his large fingers on my folds. I bit my lip again to avoid letting out a moan, and I felt his middle finger travel to my entrance, stimulating it. I couldn't resist and moaned, writhing in Joel's lap. "Stop moving," he said. I obeyed, and due to the effort, my legs were trembling; I couldn't resist it.

He inserted his finger and pumped my entrance, making me writhe more and my legs contract due to my effort not to move. He pumped his finger quickly, and I felt I was close to cumming, and so was Joel; so he stopped, and I could feel my pussy contract due to the lack of attention, I whimpered. "Joel,” he pulled my hair, making my neck twist back "Please, let me cum” he shook his head, tightening his grip on my hair "Bad girls like you don't deserve to cum" he threw me into the passenger seat and started unbuttoning his pants, I watched each action in detail, waiting for his orders.

He asked me to come closer with his hand, and I did. I leaned towards his pants and saw how he pulled the glans out of his underwear. Joel's cock is huge and thick, with prominent veins and the tip dripping pre-cum. I adjusted myself and Joel grabbed my hair again, guiding my mouth to the tip of his glans. I leaned in and slowly sucked the tip, then pushed it deeper until I couldn't fit it anymore.

"Suck it all,” I tried, but I choked, so I only sucked it as far as I could, Joel, unsatisfied, made me take his entire glans into my mouth, I choked again, and saliva dripped from my mouth, now he was controlling my actions. The tip of his cock hit my throat, and I couldn't take it anymore, a tear fell from my eye, causing me to swallow it with his dick.

I felt his cock start to twitch inside my mouth; he was about to cum, so I sucked it as hard as I could. While he grabbed my hair, making quick movements, he groaned as he felt his arousal approaching. "I'm gonna cum in that pretty mouth, darling, and you're going to swallow it, right?” I moaned, feeling myself choke more and more, feeling his cum spurt down my throat. Joel made me swallow it, keeping his cock in my throat. "Shit, did you swallow it, darling?" I nodded. "Everything?" I nodded again and showed him my tongue. "Good girl," I watched as he adjusted his pants and put on his belt. "Now, I want you to touch yourself until you cum, while I take you home. Could you do that for me?” I nodded and slightly opened my legs, placing my hand on my pussy, and massaging it to stimulating it a bit. "Yes, that's right, don't stop doing it until you cum, baby.”

I rubbed my clit with my arousal, I bit my lip holding a moan; I wasn't satisfied, I wanted Joel's fingers fucking my pussy. "Mmh, I want your fingers, Joel." He shook his head and said, "You don't deserve it. Get yourself off, and I'll see if I can please you next time." I whimpered and proceeded to insert a finger, but it wasn't what I wanted, so I went back to rubbing my clit, trying to reach my climax. "Shit, shit, Joel, I'm gonna cum.” He glanced at me with a smile, "Cum, princess, I want to see that pretty pussy dripping your juices." I opened my mouth, letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding "Oh my... shit!" my pussy started to contract and pulse as I rubbed it gently "That's it, so obedient" I looked ahead and noticed the traffic light was red, I took him by the face and kissed him desperately.

"Still needy? Huh?" I nodded, "Tough luck, princess, now you’ll have to wait. I hope you understood your lesson, I don’t want to be rude, but I won’t respond if you don't behave next time." I grimaced, and apart from him, he was very mean and cruel sometimes.

divider: @/enchanthings-a

[sufferingbooknerd]

Some of yall need to realize that Ellie’s having so much more of a reaction Joel’s death than you realize…the only healthy thing she’s done about her grief is play guitar again but everything else?

Immediately leaving in the night after she has a way out with Dina, not to mention she was even going to go alone and even more ill prepared even before that?

That’s a need to rectify how she’s been feeling as soon as possible because it’s been eating her up for three goddamn months that she didn’t/couldn’t do anything

Immediately assuming Abby’s group killed those dead Seraphites in the forest with NO evidence?

She’s looking for even more reason to justify what she wants to do to these people, aside from them killing her adoptive father (which she inadvertently got called selfish for wanting at the council meeting and by the votes result) ‘if they’re even worse than I thought before I’m even more right in killing them’

Immediately wanting to go out after them when seeing the clearly labeled tv station in broad daylight?

Same as her packing immediately, they’re not making Ellie seem stupid, she’s so clouded by vengeance that it’s impeding her rational thought (the show itself before she starts making these decisions gives you an explanation for her actions in her conversation with Jesse pre council meeting “right cause I’m stupid” “cause you’re angry”)

Having sex with Dina and immediately jumping head first into a relationship and future family?

That’s also a response to everything she’s been going through, she needs something to cling to like a fucking life raft and she found it. It feels kinda rushed? It’s two traumatized teenagers making an arguably bad decision to get serious while still seeking out the killers of a man they both loved…it’s supposed to

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐞, 𝐣. 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (dbf! joel)

author’s note: i wrote this high as balls & depressed because it’s loosely based off of my situationship LOL. anyways hope yall like reading my misery as much as i loved writing it. <333

he was the worst man you’ve ever met.

not just in the sense of morality; his compass split down the middle of north and south, interceding the blurred lines of need and desire.

he’s everything cathartic personified. the kind of feeling that could snap you in half if you bended back enough.

but, you’ve always been keen of broken toys and your knees bent at the want to be their savior.

he was the worst man you’ve ever met but you were worse for wanting to be loved by him even more.

the lingering taste of marlboro reds sat on the tip of your tongue and your throat burned at the sight of him.

the back of your mouth lit aflame with all of the vituperative words you want to say. they beat against the cage of your chest as he downs yet another whiskey neat and smoked like a chimney all night.

boisterous laughter filled the hot, arid atmosphere. the wind slapped against the bare of your back as the rope from the tire rippled and divided, swinging from the weeping tree.

you snap out of your july induced daze when you hear your name be called.

“can you go fetch us another pack of corona?” drunkenness dripped from your father’s voice and you could tell you’d probably be up all night cleaning up after him.

familiar hazel eyes pay homage to your face and your nerves plea against your dignity to save itself by looking anywhere but where his gaze followed.

you comply with a simple nod, not wanting to deal with the back and forth of cutting your father off from another drink. you walk past joel close enough for him to smell the floral lotion spread across the skin of your calves.

once you were far enough to sneakily steal glances outside, you opened the refrigerator door and grabbed another pack of beer.

how could he just sit there?

he hadn’t said anything to you since he arrived— or more so since you’ve come back from college and the desperation to simply be acknowledged skinned you raw.

you were angry, hands hot with the urge to slam the beer against that stupid, glass table he’d built for your father.

you wanted him to feel a lick of what you did that summer: abandoned and left high and dry.

your slide open the back patio door, placing down the beer in front of the two men. only one “thank you” in response and it’d been from your father.

from him? nothing. he’s cold as ice as if you were simply a servant there to deliver his wants.

the night went on just like that until your father groaned out his resignation to drinking and trudged upstairs yelling a simple “lock the door when you leave” to joel.

you sigh as you bend down to grab yet another empty beer bottle, tossing it into the trash bag. each clink just overstimulating you even more.

joel was still here with a half empty bottle in his hand. when he chugged up the remaining remnants, he stood up and stalked towards you.

“you want some help, sweetheart?” he offered.

you wanted to take that bottle and chuck it at him— you had too many questions and knew he didn’t have enough answers he cared to muster up to relieve you.

instead, you simply snatched it from him and chucked it into the bag carelessly.

“thanks but no thanks” you mutter, shrugging past him to collect another pile of trash. “if you wanna make yourself useful, you could start by goin’ home for the night, mr. miller.”

he chuckles lowly.

“what ever happened to southern hospitality? your generation lost their sense of manners, already?” he pulls out another pack of those deathly marlboro reds, lifts a stick up to his lips, lighting the end of it until it was cherry red.

you whip your head around and furrow your brows.

“manners? you’re trying to tell me about manners?” you drop the bag and not even the clashing of glass could slice the tension. “don’t give me that shit, joel.”

he doesn’t dare to utter a word and he only stares back at you with indifference. yet, even the lack of condescension in his expression, still managed to tick you off. not because you wanted that reaction out of him, but because it reminded you of how much he didn’t care.

“you don’t know a shit or two of what manners look like on a woman.”

stupid, old man. he never cared about anything other than himself and his filthy inhibitions.

“you’re hurting my feelings, baby.” your feet are planted on the ground and your knees almost buckle at the way the word slid off his tongue.

so carelessly unaware of the cruelty of what he does to you.

you search his eyes for meaning and drag them down to his chapped, ghastly merlot lips. you remember the way they felt tracing the dip of your spine and you want to break.

after a couple more seconds of a silent, knowing exchange of stares “i’m sorry i didn’t call you.” he finally says.

you dreamt over and over about the moment he finally said those words. you fantasized about shoving them back down his throat with a cold remark about he could fuck himself with them.

you imagined the anger of what his regret would finally feel like that over time, leading up to this moment, all you felt was sadness.

sadness for the time lost and sadness for the disappointment of knowing you’d still be his, even if you held up a mirror of his worst qualities to him.

an apology from joel miller felt like prolonged grief that you run from until it finds you on a sunny day.

your lip quivers and he pulls you into his rugged arms at the sight of your distressed state.

you wanted to hit him, kick him where the sun didn’t shine— do anything but enjoy his embrace. but all of the anger began to dissipate as his hands ran over your back, soothing you from the pain he illicit.

“i hate you for what you did to me. for making me love you, even when you knew, you’re no man i should ever love.”

a tear slipped from your eye and he kept holding you.

“i hate you, joel.”

“i know.”

“i hate you for ruining me the way you do.”

“i know, baby.”

he pulls you away by your forearms. he wipes away your tears, lightly smearing your mascara in the tracks of his thumbs.

“you know why.” he states seriously. “you deserve better.”

and you did. you knew you deserved better but you didn’t want better. you wanted him. to consume him: to swallow his transgressions and sins.

your bring your hand up to his scruff, caressing it with the pad of your thumb.

“i deserve better.” you repeat. “but tonight, i want you for whatever you are.” you walk closer to him until you could feel the heat radiating off of his clothed body. you lean in and pause. you search for any hesitation in his eyes and when you couldn’t detect any, you leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on the left corner of his mouth.

“you can pretend, right? just for tonight.”

“pretend what?”

“pretend that i’m the one for you.” you place another kiss on the right corner. “tell me all the things i wanna hear. make it feel real just for tonight and after this, i’ll find a nice, respectable man my age who i don’t have to pretend with.”

you step back a half and inch, bringing up his callused hand to your lips, kissing his fingertips as if they were something sacred.

he watched you with dire eyes that felt like you were the last drop of water he needed in a yearning drought.

he leans in and kisses you. he’s surprisingly gentle and you melt into him. you deepen the kiss with hunger, pressing your body against his as if you were trying to merge your soul with his.

manicured hands tangle themselves into his tousled hair, ever so slightly pulling at the roots as he kissed you.

what you missed the most about joel, was the way he kissed you. he drank you in like wine and held you like a woman. every-time he kisses you, it feels like a threat. like he knows the way he does, will ruin your life.

and it can. it absolutely can and it has.

he grips your hips hard enough to leave purple in its wake and you sigh into the kiss. “you’re the worst man i’ve ever met.” you pull away to whisper just to melt back into him.

he abruptly pulls away, breathing heavily. “not here. your father could walk in any minute.”

“you scared your best friend is gonna know what you do this daughter?” you bite back, a ghost of a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

he rolls his eyes, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the direction he began to walk in. when ya’ll get to his ford bronco he says, “come on, get in the truck.” he opens the truck door, ushering you to hop in.

you do and scoot back far enough that your back hits the other car door. he climbs in right after you, snaking his body over yours.

his hand finds your neck, tilting it up to litter kisses all over the skin of your throat.

you softly moan at the change of tempo in his kiss, stretching your neck out for easier access. disrespectful hands roam over your thighs, pushing up your sundress to play with the band of your underwear. his pointer fingers dip inside of them and your breathing speeds up with anticipation.

he pulls them down and wriggle them off for him, lifting up your legs so he could slip them off. he pushes your dress up to your stomach and kisses your navel. you writhe into the pressure of his kiss, begging for more of it with the arch of your back.

he wetly kisses your skin and his hands push your legs up by the backs of your knees until your kneecaps met your breast.

“missed her just as much as i missed you.” he says looking up at you while planting a reverent kiss on the mound of your pubic bone. you almost wince at the closeness of his lips, heating radiating off of your cunt.

he licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit and your breath hitches in your throat.

as much as you hated most words that came out of joel miller’s mouth, god, did you love what he could do with it, too.

your hands find his hair, tugging on it as if you had no safe common ground and the only thing you could use to level yourself was him.

he responded to your breathy moans with enthusiasm, drinking each one in as he lapped you up with a flattened tongue. his hands found your lifting hips, pushing them back down by placing his forearm over your lower stomach to gravitate you back to earth.

“fuck” you cry out shakily, your tone mimicking a sob. his lips suction around your clit and you’re sent over the edge. your eyes are screwed shut as the backs of your eyelids fade into white from how tightly closed they were. your legs tighten around his head and he rips them back apart, ignoring the shake of them. the high is short lived as your back falls back into the seat.

he meets you where you are, placing a sloppy kiss onto your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shackle your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“you alright?” he asks.

how cute.

you offer him a lazy nod and kissing your burning cheek before telling you to turn around. you oblige, shifting your weight around to face your reflection in his foggy car window. joel slides himself in between your legs, maneuvering you to accommodate to his stature.

“you want me to put it in?” he awaits for consent and you turn your face to kiss him again to which he captures your lips in his again fervently. his finger finds your clit, playing with it.

“don’t make me beg, joel. please. waited so long for this.”

“wanna know you want it just as bad as me, sweetheart.”

“i want you, joel.” he kisses the crown of your spine and undoes his belt. you whimper when you feel him tease your entrance with his tip back and forth before finally pushing in.

your mouth falls agape and both of you moan simultaneously at the protrusion. he begins to slide in and out of you and it feels so good, tears begin to well up in your bambi eyes.

“i missed my favorite girl.” he groans out, pushing your hair out of the way to plant a kiss on your shoulder blade.

you let out a shrill moan. it’s light as a feather and you press yourself into him with each thrust, wanting him deeper. one one of his rough hands finds your breasts, roughly tugging at it.

the both of you felt it, in this space how much you missed each other. the intimacy had you veering for more than what he could offer, and joel felt like three more strokes in were enough to send his him flying over the edge.

he pulled all the way out, drew you in by throwing arm over the front of your shoulders, and plunged himself back in at brutal pace. you yelped out a moan, cursing yourself for allowing this to happen again but it felt too good to be wrong in the moment.

you’d vow to cry about this later— bloody mary eyes— but right now, you were fully immersed in a fucked out daze.

“fuck, i don’t wanna come yet.” he groans but he’s unrelenting. “come on, pretty girl. show me just how much you missed me.”

“joel— fuck!”

“come on, show me. let me see what i made out of you.” he drags out his, urging you to show him just the mess he made out of your sanity over the course of the summer.

“tell me you love me.” he doesn’t reply and you look back at him with pleading eyes. “tell me. i won’t hold you to it.”

he kisses you again. “i love you.”

you press your cheek against his as he repeats it, over and over and over again. he snakes a hand in between your cunt to play with your throbbing clit. your head falls limp as you come around him with a tight spasm, your body launching forward as the pleasure washed over your fucked out face.

he spares a couple more strokes before he empties out his cum inside of your cunt with a guttural moan.

the two of you pant, and you turn around to lay back your sweaty body back against the seat.

the night is still humid and the clouds have spread out to reveal the stars that hid behind them.

you’re silent as he walks you back to your door, pulling down your dress down a bit more to smooth the fabric.

your chest feels heavy and it feels like the other shoe has already dropped. you cursed yourself mentally, the aftermath of your own actions hitting you like a truck.

you didn’t expect the regret to wash up against the surface so bad and you felt your heart strings tug with each step you made.

you look back at him to see a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, smoke leaking out through the seams of his cracked lips.

the two of you don’t exchange any other words and your heart feels as if it’s going to fall out your chest.

didn’t you want this?

you crack open the door quietly to slither back inside of the comfort of your home, back into reality where “i love you’s” and one night stands clashed.

“see ya’ kid.” he bids his goodbye and ruffles your hair. your heart clenches at the way he couldn’t bring himself to care— to not see anything past himself and you wanted to cry at the thought that you could never change his mind.

honeysuckle lips with strings of excuses as to why he couldn’t love you the way you want, why he couldn’t let you keep him.

joel miller was the worst man you’ve ever met— casually cruel and noncommittal— but at least you had a bit of him to call yours and maybe that made you worse.

[rottenblur]

study break|part three|J.MILLER|

Summary:When Sarah suggested you and the Millers should go to brunch together, it seemed like a good idea, a fun one. Then one of the miller brothers decides to get his dessert early, upsetting the other. Someone’s gotta pay for that, it just happens, poor you is burdened of the payment.

WARNINGS: Dirty talking (tommy and joel) angry joel, choking, slapping, degrading names, public touching. Dark!joel DARK JOEL. He’s mean in this yall my apologies im not sorry. Pining tommy. Over panties touching.drunk joel texting you apologizing (pathetic) POSSESSIVE JOEL

“Are you really that much of a dumb fucking slut? It’s me or fucking no one.”

It was Sarah’s idea, going out for brunch, the four of you. “If you’re gonna be staying here for two weeks, may as well get comfortable with my family!” She said that with the most genuine smile.

It filled you with a little bit of guilt, for the things you had done with her dear father the night before, guilty for the way her uncle craves you.

Even though she wouldn’t realize what was going on, even if it was right in her. Sarah only thought the best of people especially her father, so of course she wouldn’t think the miller brothers would be drooling over you.

All of you cram into joel’s navy pickup truck, it was big and clearly one of his most prized possessions. Still has that “New car” scent. “I swear he would fuck his truck if he could, spends fifty bucks every week getting it washed at some fancy place, its so anal.”

Sarah says after she heard your gasp after jumping into it.

You pull your seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place. The warm black leather sticking to your bare legs. You decided to dress up for lunch, throwing on the only dress you packed a.k.a the only one you owned.

Sarah is talking your ear off about boys, shopping and what colour she should get her nails done next.

You hear the sound of the door slam, Joel strolls out of the house, dressed in his nicest flannel, buttoned up. A patch of the grey t-shirt he was wearing underneath, exposed. The way he had his sleeved rolled up mid arm had you drooling.

“He wears that god damn shirt to every fancy event, I swear he doesn’t have any formal clothes.” She says pointing to his washed out jeans as he approaches the car, you laugh, but really you couldn’t take your eyes off, how good those jeans shaped his ass.

He opens the car door, Tommy yells out from the door way, with one shoe being pulled on ���Joel slow the fuck down, i’m coming with y’all.”

Joel scrunches his face up, shaking his head. “Fine, you’re paying for yourself.” Sarah looks at you with a confused look, you guess Tommy never comes to restaurants with them. Maybe he was coming for you?

He gets into the truck, starts the engine letting out a sigh. You look at the back of his head, he adjusts the rear mirror right on you, your eyes catching his.

You clear your throat and go back to listening to Sarah until Tommy gets into the car, with a stupid fucking smile.

“Everyone sleep okay?” He asked as if he wasn’t dead fucking asleep, while joel was in your room making you believe in heaven.

Joel lets out a small laugh, you both were thinking the same thing. Sarah replies to him and starts talking about her night.

“Can you believe he wouldn’t go through a drive thru for me? Who denies a drunk person fast food?” She says like its the worst thing ever.

“Who almost throws up in someone’s car because they couldn’t handle their liquor? Wanna answer that hun?” Oh hes sassy. Sarah was sending you videos all night, yet you only looked at them this morning due you being…slightly busy when she sent them.

It’s a long drive of you and joel stealing glances, looking away awkwardly when even the sight of him is bringing back memories of last night.

Finally, Joel pulls into the parking lot. You look around, it’s a decently nice place, one of those “insta worthy” places were girls take pictures of their food, it was overpriced for a reason it’s “aesthetic”.

Sarah loves it. Sarah was one of those girls that posted on her instagram every day, anything and everything.

She posted Joel a good few times before you came, not realizing he was her father.

More like one of those hot teachers in high school, that you beg to take a picture with on the last day of school.

He was good looking, he didn’t look his age at all. Never would you guess her dad would be THAT attractive.

He hops out, letting out a deep sigh and clearing his throat.

You undo your seatbelt, pick up your phone, you reach to open the door but Tommy is already there, with begging eyes he opens it.

“After you.”

He waves his hand, leaning on the door as you and Sarah hop out.

Adjusting your dress as you walk towards the door, Sarah’s arm interlinked with yours.

You can feel their eyes on you, the wind blows the bottom of your dress up, exposing patches of your thighs.

You look back, joel is sizing up the place seeing if it’s even decent, Tommy is well, um being Tommy. Devouring you with his eyes, it makes you nervous.

It takes him a good couple seconds to realize you caught him staring, peeling his eyes off your legs and smiling.

The fresh conditioned air gives you goosebumps as you step into the door.

A girl that looks like she spends way too much time on social media, about a couple years older greets you.

“Ya’ got a reservation sweetheart?”

God, you forgot that literally everyone around here got a pet name for strangers. Fucking texans.

Sarah pipes in.

“Yeah! Miller, four of us.”

She smiles and looks down at her reservation book.

“I’ll bring y’all to your table.”

She steps out from behind the cash and walks the bunch of you to a table on the deck, over looking the ocean.

You sit down in your seat, Joel sitting in front of you sarah attached at his hip.

Meaning, you’re stuck sitting neck to tommy. For fucks sake.

She smiles at joel, practically drooling.

“I can get your drink orders if y’all are ready.”

Sarah skims over the drink menu then smirks.

“Two mimosas for me and the lady.”

Joel shakes his head.

“You didn’t drink enough last night?” He huffs out.

You try to hold back a laugh but it’s uncontrollable.

“Just a coffee for me.” He hands the drink menu off to her.

“You want cream or sugar?” She asks, accepting the menu.

He shakes his head.

She hasn’t took her eyes off him since he walked in, fucking desperate.

“Water for me.”

She doesn’t even look at tommy when he orders. Why were you so upset over this, he’s beautiful you should know you’re not the only person that thinks that.

She nods her head and practically skips away.

You whip out your phone, placing your elbows on the table. Opening your messages skimming through to find sarah.

You: Staring problem much.-12:37pm

Her phone dings, she checks the notification and smiles. Typing back instantly.

Sarah m.: i thought she was gonna crawl on the table and harass him right then and there :0-12:37

You read her text and start laughing, you look at her and nod. Joel catches this, he leans over and tries to get a peek.

You: It’s definitely his “fancy” shirt. SHE WAS DROOLING.-12:38

She laughs and joel reads it, taking her phone and typing back.

Sarah m.: it is fucking fancy, thank u.-12:38

He huffs in unison with her, she tucks her phone back into her phone pocket and the lady returns.

With a fucking smile.

You look at sarah and roll your eyes as she lays down the drinks. Joel’s first, obviously.

She asks for your order then walks away.

You’re sipping on your drink, staring at the view, what were you thinking wearing a dress, wasn’t even hot out?

You get goosebumps and shiver, tommy catches it while sarah and joel are deep in conversation, about something stupid, whatever they could debate about, they would.

“You cold honey?”

He places a hand on your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb.

Oh god.

You shake your head. “Probably shouldn’t have worn a dress, bad idea.” Adding a nervous giggle.

He smiles, leaning in closer and whispering into your ear. “That’s right. Should have worn nothing.”

He pulls his hand further up, resting on the hem of your dress. Sitting comfortably on your upper thigh.

He rubs slow circles on your inner thigh, you squirm in your seat.

Fuck.

You finish off your drink, Tommy moves his hand up, grazing your clit through your panties. Your breath hitches. Joel looks at you, you look back.

He looks at Tommy then furrows his brows.

Fuck. Oh my FUCK.

You were caught.

You knew how much Tommy’s pining for you bothered him yet, you still let him touch you.

You’d say you were bothered by it too but the way your panties are wet right now says differently.

You clear your throat and stand up. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, ill be back.”

You almost trip over your own feet walking to the bathroom.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Does this mean you’ve lost Joel?

Maybe you’d get some nice rough angry sex out of this, finally feel him.

You stare in the mirror taking deep breaths trying to figure what the fuck to do.

Back at the table, Joel’s clawing at himself to have control, it’s nothing just some stupid fucking flirting, you didn’t resist though.

Fuck it.

He taps his jeans pocket and sighs. Interrupting Sarah and Tommy’s discourse on the latest movie they watched. They both look to him. “I forget my phone in the truck, imma get it.”

Sarah shrugs her shoulders as if she didn’t need to know that and goes back to her conversation.

He gets up, walks towards the exit and when he’s far enough for them to not see him, he stomps over to the bathroom.

You’re finished practically water boarding yourself to feel better, wiping off the “waterproof” mascara that ran down your face .

You open the door and are met with the hard chest of a taller man.

“Oh i’m sorry sir-“ You look up.

Fuck.

He pushes you back into the bathroom with a grip on your neck. Thank god for private bathrooms.

You thought it was just gonna be some steamy, kinky, public sex cause of him choking you. The way he was looking down at you, his grip tightening tells you different. He was fuming.

“Ah i-“ It’s hard to speak with the way his hand is engulfing your neck.

“Did ya like it?” He loosens his grip just enough for you to speak, pushing you against the bathroom wall by your neck.

The other hand encaging you above your head. He was leaning so close to you, it seemed like you could change his mind and it WOULD turn into sex.

He tilts his head waiting for an answer.

“Like what Joel?”

He tongues his teeth and shakes his head at this.

“Uh uh don’t you fucking dare-“ He retightened his grip. “-play the dumb slut with me, thought you were the smart one darlin’?”

You nod, choking out a response. “I’m sorry joel—really. I didn’t.”

He lets out a groan, slapping your face, a burning feeling races through your cheek, then he was spreading your legs.

“So you’re telling me, if i check right now, you won’t be soaking for tommy” He gets up in your face.

“Don’t like you lying to me darlin’”

He reaches down, hand still on your throat for dear life.

He feels your panties. They are fucking soaked. From him or Tommy, you have no clue.

“Just what i thought. Ya think you can just go ‘round picking and choosing what miller you want as your fuck toy?—” He tightened his grip, you can barely breathe.

“—Think i wouldn’t know? Think i don’t recognize that cute little face you make, when someone’s touching ya’?”

You choke on your own spit.

“Are you really that much of a dumb fucking slut? It’s me or fucking no one.”

He takes his hand off your throat. You cough as the air slowly refills your lungs. “I’m yours okay? Please i’m sorry.”

He grins, grabs your cheeks and gives you a quick kiss.

“Oh i know baby, you’re sorry now.”

He leaves the bathroom, leaving you to wipe the fresh mascara stains off your cheeks. You fix your hair and clear your throat.

When you come back to the table, Sarah is digging into a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

You sit down, Tommy smiles at you. Joel is wiping the pink lipgloss you stained him with off, before anyone notices.

“Hey! Are you okay? You were in there a while.” Sarah says with a mouthful of ice cream dripping past her lips.

You try to come up with an excuse.

“Got kinda lost trying to find it.”

Joel huffs. Tommy can’t keep himself off you. It’s like he’s trying to get you in trouble.

He leans in again, nothing good comes from this.

“Too bad I already had dessert, ice cream looks pretty darn good.”

God just touching you was his dessert? You’d blush if it wouldn’t get you put in your place again. He tries to touch you again.

You swipe his hand away. It hurt him, he frowns and mutters a sorry.

The car ride home was quiet. Sarah showing you pictures of the dinner on her phone.

Both millers were staring right at you in each picture, it’s like they weren’t even trying to hide it.

The only interaction with Joel for the rest of the night was those few glances through the rearview mirror on the way home.

It was cruel trying to sleep. You kept tracing the spots on your neck where he squeezed the hardest, honestly you thought u deserved it.

That one kiss through all the pain, it kept you up.

How was that the softest he had kissed you before, yet the most aggressive he treated you.

It made you question everything you knew about him.

You fell asleep looking at Sarah’s instagram, the pictures of him.

Too bad you were too dead asleep cause he was blowing up your phone.

3 missed calls from J.Miller-11:30pm

Hey can i talk to ya?-11:37pm

Sorry if i scared ya, just cant handle anyone else having u-11:37pm

Sweet dreams sugar.-11:46pm

masterlist (check out the rest of the series there:))

part four: here

AN!!! Hey long time no see yawl😪 i started writing this like last week and write 90% of it in like three hours sooo idk how to feel bout it ANGST??? DARK JOEL??? TOMMY MAKING A MOVE??? Lots going on in this. @cuntyjoel was my supportive writer bestie that actually convinced me to finish this go check em out and my bottom joel fic IM BEGGING YAWL its linked so is my master list with part one and two to study break. Love yall.

[mollymargiela]

your apart of faze and are streaming with the boys and he’s just recording while the guys tease u, and yall argue. (Fluff, Addison)

after a segment with the g-league you guys decide to hangout in the living room, addison sees something he doesn’t like at all but your completely oblivious to it.

reader = white

addison = green

ron = blue

jason = orange

lacy = red

max = pink

warnings: some swearing , physical touch and arguing

fluff at the end if u squint

after the valentine’s g-league segment and joel had won which was a huge surprise to everyone including you, everyone was now sat on the couch, ron angry because yugi had lost and would now have to give jason 100gifted, he obviously wasn’t going to tho.

addison recorded the entire segment as he usually does, keeping a watchful eye on you. however, it wasn’t in a creepy way; he simply wanted to ensure that none of the boys were getting too close or crossing any boundaries.

everyone knew u guys were dating its been 8 months of you two being together,

you are very close to jason though.

you both share a strong bond because you’ve been friends before jason even started streaming. addison knew this, but he would still get jealous whenever jason got too close to you or even hugged you. he’s never mentioned it to you because he understands that you’re just best friends and nothing more.

but right now addison was trying his hardest not to tell jason to get his hands off you.

jason was talking to ron about the 100gifted, and his hand rested on your thigh, gripping it gently. you both didn’t notice it initially, as you were engrossed in separate conversations.

It wasn’t a big deal to the both of you anyway.

but for addison, his mind was racing. He was so focused on you and jason that he had completely forgotten he was supposed to be the camera man.

“yo addison get the fucking angles dude” ron says to him making him regain focus

“my bad” he glances at the both of you once more and films rage and max arguing about who knows what

he has a stern expression on his face, his jaw clenched tightly, and his brows furrowed in concentration.

you look down to see jason gripping your thigh,

u then get up and that makes jason remove his hand.

you dont say anything to jason because he used to do it all the time before you and addison started dating, he would do it simply out of stress and comfort when he began to feel nervous

you go to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle offering ron and lacy one, u graze addisons shoulder gently feeling his strong biceps

“im good thanks though.” he says

“what about you lacy?” u ask him with ur brow raised

“yea ill take one thanks” … “rather take you out though haha..”

you stare at lacy intensely

“yea right take the water bottle dumbass.”

“shut up porky she’s clearly dating addison.”

lacy often joked like that with you because he knew it made addison mad

addison overheard what lacy said and thinks its time for the both of you to go home

he hands the camera to bepsy and walks over to you, lacy and ron

he puts his hand on your back and whispers in ur ear

“lets go home.” he says it in a low and serious tone

“why is everything okay?” you respond to him

“yes lets just go, please.”

you nod at him and begin gathering your belongings. you say goodbye to the boys, hugging them all.

you hug jason tightly

“ill see you tomorrow guys!” you wave at all of them

“byee y/n!” they all say in unison

addison says his goodbyes as well

“oh your leaving?” max says with a confused tone because the stream wasn’t over yet.

“yea i gotta be up early for the shoot tomorrow.” addison lies

i mean there was a shoot tomorrow but addison wakes up on time no matter how early it is, he doesn’t like being late to things.

“ight i’ll see you at the shoot then.” max daps him up and you both begin walking towards the front door

he holds the door open for you and gestures for you to go ahead. as he carries his backpack full with cameras and other items, he closes the door behind him. together, you walk down the hill, searching for his car.

“It’s over here,” he says in a low tone, almost as if he’s angry. you and addison haven’t had a fight since you started dating.

you’ve never seen him actually angry.

you approach his car, get inside, and wait for him while he loads his belongings into the trunk. You sit in the passenger seat and scroll through Instagram.

he gets into the driver’s seat, turns on the car, and starts driving home.

The car is filled with an uncomfortable silence on the way home; not a single word is exchanged.

halfway through the car ride home, you turn on the radio, hoping it will fill the tension between you both.

he turns it off without saying a word

you give him a confused look “why’d you turn it off?”

he doesn’t respond.

you reach out to turn it back on, but he grabs your wrist, preventing you from doing so.

“what the fucks wrong with you addison?!” you then release your wrist from his grasp.

“why were u letting jason touch u like that?” …

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you give him a confused look

“why the fuck was jason touching you like that?!” he says a little louder

“is this why ur acting like a fucking baby and why u wanted to leave?” you turn to face him

“im not acting like a fucking baby y/n, tell me why u let jason touch you like that.”

“you know that me and jason are best friends! i’ve known him for 5 years!”

“so, that gives him the right to touch your thigh? are you cheating on me with him? If you are, at least do a better job of hiding it!” he starts raising his voice at you

you scoff at him “you really think im cheating on you with jason?”

he turns to look at you and says “i mean his hand was practically in your panties.”

“do you know how fucking dumb you sound right now addison??!” … “before you and i started dating jason would do that when he felt nervous!”

“your telling me you allow jason to caress your thigh?!”

“addison, it’s nothing like that. why can’t you see that I don’t like him? we’re just friends!!”

“friends who touch each other..” he says under his breath

“ohmygosh! i can’t believe how difficult it is for you to believe me!”

“also what about lacy telling you he wants to take you out, huh?” he glances over to you while driving

you groan putting your face in your hands

“addison you cannot be serious right now, you’re mad because lacy made a joke on stream?” you shout at him

he stays quiet clenching his jaw

“he literally does it all the time to make u mad! maybe if u stop shit talking him he would stop doing it!”

he pulls into your driveway, and you don’t give him a moment to respond. you quickly get out of the car, slamming his car door behind you, and walk to the front door of your house, unlocking it.

“fuck..” he thinks to himself

you enter the house and head up to your shared bedroom, removing your earrings and shoes.

he chases after you, forgetting that his belongings are in the trunk. however, that’s not what truly matters to him. the only thing he cares about is you.

addison realized he was overreacting. he understood that you and jason were only best friends, and there was nothing more between you two.

he heads up the stairs, calling out for you.

“y/n..?” he looks around and then enters your shared bedroom.

“what do you want addison?!” … “you clearly don’t trust your girlfriend that you’ve been with for 8 months.”

he sits next you on the bed

“no baby its not like that, im sorry.” … “i cant help it that i get jealous.”

“addison you need to understand that theres nothing going on between me and jason or lacy.” you reassure him.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, y/n. please forgive me, baby.” he says, grabbing your hands and holding them in his.

you sigh and say, “I forgive you, baby. just understand that there’s nothing going on between me and jason.”

hiii its me again i tried my best to make this one with little context :3 im sorry if its bad ;(

[jenna-ortega]

you're scared of love, well, aren't we all?

vertigo intermission

INTERMISSION SUMMARY - After taking care of Joel, and Joel taking care of you - you wake up to the cold sheets beside you. Heart sinking at the sudden realization....he's gotten his appetite filled, now he's gone. What you don't know, is the taste of you has Joel's claws stuck between the layers of your skin, and it'll take a village to pry what he believes is his from those callused hands. Pairing - joel miller x female reader Word Count - 2.1k Warnings - angst, pinv, gagged & bound, praise, heartbreak A/N - pls do not kill me for this <3 this is just a prank! (it's not) but i did warn yall that this intermission would be a doozy...i will make it up to y'all...eventually

previous chapter - series masterlist

series playlist - by the wonderful @lovers-liability

Your body is still buzzing from the earlier morning. Still feeling the phantom lips of Joel exploring your body, putting you to sleep in the best way possible. Now…now, he’s really done it. Made you fall in love..no, no? Not love. Anything but that. No, no, no. Your heart sinks in your sleep as you toss and turn at your bitter thoughts. You were supposed to be mad at him. You were supposed to be so, so angry. But–that didn’t stop your body from soaking in his laps and slurps, making your body seize with pleasure. 

You jolt slightly awake, eyes blinking slowly as your hand stretches to feel the familiar body you’ve come to learn far gone from your touch. Just a cold pillow with the fresh imprints of a strong, wide body. His body. The body you’ve learned could get away with anything if it touched you the right way. 

The brain in your dazed little head only has a short amount of time to start planning its demise before you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking through your door. You take note of his bare chest, and low hanging boxers. He’s here. 

“What ya look so nervous for, darlin’” he questions, 

“Nothing.” a lie. A lie so big you could scold yourself out loud. This is nerve wracking. Seeing the man you’ve dreamed about, half naked standing in your doorway after giving you the best head in your life is nerve wracking. It feels as if he’s a deer, and you’re peering into the forest hiding…hoping you are quiet enough to stop it from running away. Joel Miller, please don’t run away. Not now. Not after everything. 

“Alright then.” he believes you.  

—

“Thought I told you,” joel grabs your attention behind the bar, leaning back against his chair with a smug smile on

“I don’t want you workin’ here.” 

“You don’t own me.” you bite back, putting down an empty glass in front of his frame

“But I want to.” 

The breath you took is expelled from your lungs in surprise, heart dropping into a place he’s made himself so familiar with. You stare at him doe-eyed, biting the side of your cheek as you nervously blink repeatedly. “Joel,” you whisper almost pleadingly, 

“ n’d here i thought you wanted me to own you,” his eyes darkened as he leaned over the bar, enticing you closer to him, “wanted me to take what’s mine. What belongs to me,” he growls, adjusting himself in his seat as he holds your eye contact without looking away. “Tell me..you wanna be mine?” 

His eye contact was too painful as he looked you up and down. Swearing the sight of you to his memory, 

You gasp as you feel him lean over the bar, grabbing your chin in between his fingers as he forces you to stare back into his deep brown eyes, “I want an answer, darlin’,” his southern accent made your body melt into his touch. You swore you heard him laugh at you for slightly moaning as finally let go of your face. 

“I wanna be yours.” you admit finally, eyes slowly blinking at him as you feel your body on fire from the thought of it all. Being his. Him wanting you like this. You want him to control you, want him to dictate every move of your life. God, you’re pathetic.

And with his next words, you know he’s got you hooked. You’d let him ruin all of your nights, fuck up all of your days, 

“Good girl,”

—

You couldn’t stop your body from following him into the bar bathroom, it was as if he possessed your body and is now making a home in your consciousness. 

And even after all this time, wanting, hoping, dreaming of having him like this…it didn’t feel real. Not yet. Not until you felt him push himself on you, feeling his hard dick meet your aching core, you were sure your excitement had rubbed off on his pants, you were drenched, feeling yourself spill down your own thigh. God, this fucking bar attire was going to get you introuble. These black mini skirts showing everything. But you’re grateful for them once you feel a pair of strong hands knead your ass, giving a sharp slap to one, making you moan out, “Joel,” 

You heard a faint chuckle from Joel, surely he was loving this version of you. Compliant, and at the mercy of his hand. 

The sound of Joel undoing his belt, and you waited for the loud sound it would make once it hit the tiled floor…but that sound never came. You were pulled from a sort of dream state, eyes widening at the realization of all of this. He pulled your arms in behind your back, his force hurting you and making you wince. You feel his hot breath against your neck, groaning as his tongue licked a stripe from up to your ear, whispering to you softly, 

“Poor little thing, in over her head is she?” his voice going higher, mocking you as you squirm in his embrace. Pushing back against him to feel his warmth against your body, wanting to wiggle your way to feel the friction of his bulge against your center, feeling tears poor from your eyes and onto your delicate cheeks, your hands now bound by his expensive belt, he tied it so tight you swore he cut off your blood flow. 

“Joel–please,” you were pleading with him to give you any sort of relief, you tried crying out to him, knowing it wouldn’t change the pace of the situation, you loved every minute of this. His strong hands tangling up in your hair, bringing your head up to rest slightly below his shoulder, and on his warm chest, 

“You take what i give you, little girl” he warned, hand still tangled in your hair, now pushing your head off of his chest and forcing your eyes to watch yourself in the bathroom mirror. The sight makes your cunt squeeze over nothing. He’s so big, holding you hostage on his body. Swallowing you whole as he walks your body closer to the mirror, pushing your pelvis to meet the cold porcelain sink. 

“Joel, please–” you cry out as his hips trap you, 

He hums in approval, “Darlin, I love when you beg…but you gotta stay quiet f’me.” 

You nod your head fast, looking over your shoulder to see his dark eyes burning a hole through you. And he growls as you feel your body bounce from the force it takes of him to rip your panties off your body. 

Whimpering as you feel the burn of fabric cut from your skin, that’s gonna leave a mark,

“Fuck…” the only word your brain can formulate as you’re heavy breathing, looking at your fucked out self in the mirror…only, he hasn’t even started fucking you.

“Shhh, baby. This’ll help,” 

Your head shakes violently as he forces your panties into your mouth, muffling any pleas to him you might have had on the tip of your tongue, and gagging you in the process. 

Joel moved back from you, eyeing his work. “Mmmm” 

Your body slugged over the sink, black skirt pulled around your waist with your hands bound behind your back.

Joel’s grin spread ear to ear, his dick jumping in excitement as he began pulling down his pants just enough to pull out his cock. His pink tip pulsing with clear precum already released. 

He gripped it in hand, pumping it a few times before he walked back over to your body, lining it up with your slit. 

You felt him run his cock along you, applying pressure just a bit, making you scream out as much as you could. Your body trembled for him, you coughed on your own panties as your muffled begs for him were lost in the air. 

Without warning, you felt him shove himself in you, hearing a groan from behind-” fuck. FUCK.” his voice deep and husky as he began his pace, not letting you adjust at all. Grabbing your hips hard enough to bruise, helping him steady his thrust as he tore you apart. Your pussy squeezing around him, letting him know he’s in control of your body. Every thrust earned a squeal from you, he didn’t have any mercy in this. Deep and hard was all he was doing, the sounds coming from your core making you close your eyes, letting any tears that were in them fall off your cheek. 

His cock pulling out and jamming into you relentlessly, you didn’t expect him to be like this. But god, you liked it. 

Joel, Joel, Joel, 

A chant your brain has now burned into your conscience. Even with no words at all, your body screams it. Your nipples perking as you feel him thrust even deeper inside of you, stumbling behind you as he loses balance with how hard he thrust, 

“Mine. Mine. Mine” his chant. Possessive in nature, oppressive in reality. Because how unjust and cruel is it to be his, his, his, when you know others have also been. For so long, he was yours, but you were not his. What does it mean to be that, to be his? To be bound and gagged in a bar bathroom, to be controlled and subject yourself to his nature. Possessive. Is this what you really wanted? 

What you really wanted was to come right now, eyes squeezed shut as the groans coming from behind you begin to get louder, 

“You’re killing me with this pussy,” 

Your wrists rubbed raw against his belt as his thrust sent you further and further against the sink, the cold porcelain distracting you as you feel a warm hand snake around your front and begin rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

He laughs at your feeble attempt to cry and moan his name against your panties, feeling your insides hug him tightly as he gives it all to you. His cock kissing your cervix when it happens, when he feels you shake and cry against the gag in his arms. Holding you up as you choke his cock with your orgasm, creaming all along his shaft.

 “Yeah baby, you got it, you can do it, taking me so. fucking. good. 

His thrusts match his words, hard punches into your cunt as you lay limp in his arms, gurgling nonsensical sounds as he takes, devours your whole. 

“Gonna cum, gonna, –oh, fuck!” 

He pushes deep in you, his balls hitting your core as he gives you everything, shaking and pushing you back into him as he does. “Take it all.” he demands through gritted teeth, 

You squeal out as he gives you one last hard thrust, pulling out of you with a deep guttural moan, “Oh baby…” he tilts his head up to the ceiling, breathing out heavy as he comes back down to reality, 

Joel tucks himself away and helps you get decent, ungagging you and pulling down your skirt, leaving you a small slap before pulling it down all the way. 

You’re breathing deeply, closing your eyes as your hands hold yourself up on the sink, looking at your flush complexion in the mirror, watching Joel walk over to you cand begin petting your hair,

“You did so well,” he kissed the side of your head. 

—

He brings you to place afterwards, making sure to tell Tommy he was stealing you for the night. 

“Have I convinced ya to quit yet?”

“Joel,” you sigh as he opens the door to his place, your mind fogged with another thought before you could finish your sentence, 

“Smells..good in here?” you question, noticing the signs of life that are apparent throughout the house. You smile thinking nothing of the sizzling you hear in the kitchen, not noticing Joel’s stiff form as you sneak from behind his big frame, 

“Joel! What took you so–” the high pitched voice came from the kitchen suddenly cut off, and your eyes met hers. Heart dropping as you feel yourself want to collapse into itself. It’s her. Vanessa. You didn’t want to stick around to see Joel’s face, to hear his excuse as to why you were on his hip. Didn’t want to try and save himself from this, didn’t want to see him get to have everything.

Joel was oppressive in reality. For him to prolong this, to force you to feel things that shred your heart up. Joel was not yours, and you’d never be his.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3666

today started out better than yesterday. then it quickly went downhill.

i went to lunch with my mom at our usual tuesday spot, and i got the fish and chips because that's how i was feeling, but before i could do much of anything, the pain once again resumed and it wiped me out to the point where i couldn't finish my fish :c

and if that was how i felt with a full night of sleep, how much worse would've it been if i hadn't?

unfortunately, we had more to do.

we stopped at home and mom grabbed some advil from inside, and we were on our way. mom and i went to walmart and i got my undercut touched up. we went to a farm stand for pastries. we stopped by the shop so james could look at mom's car, and then we drove home. i had my doctor's appointment at 2:50, so i went over by myself and was able to talk to my doctor about the cortisol thing.

provided i can wake up early enough, ill be heading over there first thing for a blood test because the morning is when both cortisol and testosterone are at their highest levels. if anything's off, we'll try something else and if that doesn't help, it'll be off to an endocrinologist for me. and thankfully, dr. k was extremely receptive to all of it. he even said it would potentially explain a lot of things, and he agreed with me.

it's really nice to be listened to by a medical professional.

get yall a dr. k.

then i spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch under a quilt as i watched tv with my mom.

mom went upstairs to rest because her kidneys were hurting her, and she ended up napping for a while. i watched episodes that weren't important while i crocheted.

james made dinner when he got home. he's one of the hardest working people i know.

it was a new recipe - i'm not sure what to think of it. it was french style hunter's chicken, which i'm not sure if that means anything, but it was. interesting.

after dinner i went back and sat on the sofa, still pained, but a little easier because of the protein. i still think i'll end up eating an enormous burger and chocolate shake tomorrow to help.

damn.

anyway, i'm excited to see joel tomorrow. i'm not thrilled to go to work. but honestly i was thinking about the convention and how absolutely ready i am to demand time off or quit. like either they let me do what i want or that scrounge to find another analyst and everyone still there gets shafted. like, fuck around and find out how willing i am to let this whole place burn.

damn.

when did i get so angry?

probably when i had to become a mediator for people's feelings, or when i got written up for a decision that no one else agreed with despite past experiences. or probably when our supervisor got changed and now we get thrown under the bus instead of defended. fuck that. fuck that so hard. fuck.

fuck.

[gorbygames]

Skizz and mumbo are next to each other, and lizzie and jimmy look bigger than the others... especially lizzie. Because grian blew them up in the bam-bunker? Lizzie is angry at grian for it? Etho and gem are on top of the machine. Gem bc she was joel's partner, not sure on eth- oh I just got it. Yall are obsessed about Joel being obsessed with effo. I do love though that martyn was stitched into ren's skin with the closed eye

You can win this!

Click for better quality <3

[joelscruff]

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

--

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

--

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

--

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

--

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

--

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

--

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

--

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

--

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

--

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

--

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

--

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

--

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

--

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

--

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

--

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

--

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

--

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

[colorfulstudentmuffinmaker]

Empires Thoughts Dump!

Lizzie

Yall, her village is genuinely so cute

Reminds me of those village sandbox games that I loved to play as a child

Really appreciate the work she's putting into her builds recently.

Please don't rush CCs yall, it's obvious that they're working hard, saying this because I've seen people incessantly asking about Lizzie with other CCs in their streams, namely Joel and fWhip, and I think Pix one time and I'm betting Jimmy also encounters that as well.

Not only is it rude to CCs and even Lizzie, it's sometimes even discouraging.

Please stop.

Shelby

Something Wicked this witch way comes (Pearl voice)

Love the banner

You know, if I had a nickel... Yeah yeah you get the joke. But it's still funny it's happening again.

Hooray for Loyalty on a trident.

Katherine

Mentioned this already, but really appreciate Katherine's storytelling

That transition from white block to black block? Ingenious

Can't wait for the curse to spread /pos

Love her being hysterical in the comments when she found out the gold is from the Stratos Sphere

Joey

Hooray for heterosexual attraction I suppose

I'm saying it's heterosexual attraction (which is what's happening btw), BUT Joey has confirmed Pirate Joe is bi.

I wonder what brought that on

My guy finally got a creeper head.

Woo!

Get ready for your boat to burn cause an angry, 11ft sky god is about to lose it.

Jimmy

I ascribe to the headcanon that Jimmy did get cursed with the fossil thing and that curse is turning him into a toy

Amen to that

On a more serious note, I am genuinely proud of Jimmy as a viewer. His building skills are getting better, his builder's eye is getting better, his block palette is getting better, his time lapses are more dynamic. Jimmy has genuinely improved and I'm all up for it.

The others

Not much happened that isn't unusual

Just your average Empires episodes. Chaos, awestriking aesthetic builds, a bit of imagination.

I love Pix's catacombs, I love Joel's arena, I love Scott's roads, Sausage's windmill, fWhip's pork sign, False's farms and amnesia lore.

The advantage of watching all of the CCs is getting inspiration to build in your own minecraft world

We are spoiled.

Missing Gem tho, but she is moving irl afaik. So take your time dearie.

[frnkiesaviators]

Omg the finale is here ‼️

You NAILED it, v!! I’m so proud of you 🥺 it’s such a delicate and complicated plot and yet you wrote it so beautifully 🤍🤍

This was so so incredible and such an amazing story, i cried i laughed i everything-ed and i’m gonna miss my babies so much 🥲🤍

Messy running commentary incoming, watch out!

“I remember everything, Joel.”

Not Mr. Miller. Joel. 

NOBODY TALK TO ME I NEED TIME TO PROCESS THIS

—

In one fluid motion, Joel sent his chair flying backward as he dropped to his knees before you.

KISS HER POOKIE BEAR KISS HER GOOD

—

The first kiss was delicate— cautionary. He wavered between losing control and reluctance, the path of his lips moving fluidly like they had always known their place against yours. It was so much different than the first kiss months ago, where then it had been about discovery and excitement, each draw of your bodies together new and profound. But now, it was a kiss to rekindle a flame that had dwindled out, a resurgence of emotions neither of you had experienced in years. Yes, those few months together had been exhilarating, but you had barely scratched the surface of where the bounds of your love lay.

If this isn’t art i don’t know what is 🤌🏻

—

“Don’t think I forgot at all, baby. Just wanted to savor you a minute,” Joel grinned. “I love you. God, I love you so fuckin’ much. Ain’t ever gonna stop tellin’ you how much I love you.”

The way I’m grinning like a fool 🥹 IM SO HAPPY YALL DONT UNDERSTAND THESE ARE MY BABIES

—

“I got all the time in the world, baby. Gonna spend every damn day provin’ myself to you. I’m already on my knees for you. Anythin’ you ask of me, I’ll give it to you.”

I need to die like right this second, he’s so in love with her 🥺♥️

—

He trailed his fingers up your bare legs, his hands teasing their way higher. A shiver ran over your skin as he pushed the hem of the dress further up, his head bending down to kiss a path over your knee and up your thigh. 

“God, I missed you so damn much, baby,” Joel groaned, his tongue gliding over your pebbled skin.

This might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever read

—

Joel lay his head in your lap, his puppy dog eyes staring up at you with a glimmer of desire.

Scratch that, THIS is the hottest thing I’ve ever read

—

Joel tugged your ass down to the edge of the chair, flicking the hem of your dress into your lap. You tried working your fingers over the band of your underwear, but Joel beat you to it with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Well, dizzier than you already were. 

Joel hoisted your calves over his shoulders, settling himself between your thighs. Flashes of memories in this exact position came flooding in; this was familiar. Familiarity beyond compare and something you desperately yearned for. 

Nvm this is all so hot

—

Joel gave the softest nod as if to say I know, driving you closer to the edge

Literally fanning myself

—

“I need to hear y’say it, baby,” he begged. “Please tell me you’re mine.”

THE POSSESSIVENESS IS BACK IN FULL FORCE HELL YES

—

Joel locked an arm around your back and lifted you from the table, spinning you both until your back hit the wall across from the table. The impact was enough to knock the air from your lungs and dizzy your mind,

JOEL SHE JUST HAD A CONCUSSION FFS YOU GORGEOUS HORNY MAN

—

Joel looked up at you through blurry eyes, his thick lashes coated in fresh tears. 

This is it, this is the end of loon im so done

—

“If I had known y’needed a good hit to the head to get all these memories back, I woulda tripped you myself,” Joel teased.

BAHAHA JOEL PLS 😭

—

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “It’s not fair that she gets to be angry when she wasn’t the one that lost everything.”

Oh my sweet baby i need to hug her so bad 🥺🥺

—

Joel spoke your name softly, the syllables more beautiful than ever when they rolled through his accent. You hummed in response, gazing up at him through tired eyes.

“I woulda waited an eternity for you, baby,” he confessed. “I woulda gone to my grave waitin’ to have you back in my arms like this again.”

If you see something in the sky, it’s me free falling cuz i can’t do this anymore

—

“Give me your pain. Give me all your anger and everything inside you, and I swear I’ll keep you safe. Y’ain’t ever gonna be alone again. Not while I’m still breathin’, baby. It’s you and me. Forever.”

V, you’re killing me and i couldn’t be happier

—

Sarah threw her arms around your neck, muffling her sobs into your hospital gown as you squeezed your arms tighter around her body. You missed so many milestones and moments of her life because of the accident, so many memories that were never made. Every family meal, every soccer game…you lost them all. 

OH SARAH MY BABYYY 😭😭

—

Welcome home, baby. 

I love you.

SOBBING I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭😭

—

I’m definitely gonna reread this cuz ohh my god 🥹♥️

Thank you so much for writing & sharing this beautiful masterpiece!!!

To summarize how i was the whole time reading:

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 10 Home

Summary: How bittersweet it is to come home. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 8.6k Warnings: NONE!!!! Find out for yourselves xoxo A/N: If you made it this far, thank you. This obviously isn't the absolute END, there will be an epilogue to come... but I still want to thank each and every one of you. This series has such a special place inside my heart, and I will be forever grateful for the love and support you all have given. All the kisses and hugs and love to you all. (I also realize there are going to be a few questions left unanswered, but I promise it'll be resolved in the epilogue) * And once again, I'm the most thankful to @loonmartell for helping me create the most beautiful story. Sending you all my love, sweet pea <3 *

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You most definitely had a concussion—which was not ideal when you were behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. Not only were you trying to subdue the memories still filtering through your mind, but you were also trying to navigate the roads with blurred vision. Streetlights that had once been unfamiliar slowly morphed into a memorized path, leading you right back to the place you once called home. Sarah had guided you home just months ago after a soccer game, but this was different. This was a reawakening, a thousand tiny moments rising from their endless slumber. Each turn of the wheel and stopsign guided you back to the one person your heart cried out for… Joel. 

If only your brain and heart could get on the same page. While your heart ached for Joel in ways you hadn’t felt in months, your mind still clung to the anger you associated with him over the last several months. You couldn’t just stop loving him, but you didn’t know how to stop hating him at the same time. 

The final turn into his neighborhood was coming up fast, yet your speed came to a crawl. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he could have moved on. Half a year was enough time for Joel to move on, to find another woman, to be happy without you. You experienced the exact opposite: you couldn’t move on, didn’t find another man, and were far from happy. Seeing him again was probably a mistake, but how would you move on now that you knew everything?

The nausea was back in full force as you pulled up to Joel’s home, his truck parked crooked in the driveway. This was your home once upon a time. Yeah, you were going to be sick again. Wrenching the door open, you leaned out of your car and dry-heaved. Nothing came up, which you were thankful for. You needed a strong stomach and a clear mind for whatever would come. The ground beneath your feet became distorted as you walked the path up his front yard. You took a moment to shake away the double-vision, your mind clouding around the edges. It was not the time to lose your grip on reality. 

The worn wood of Joel’s front door taunted you, your hand hovering over the center as you debated knocking. All it would take is a quick rap of your knuckles, and you’d see him again. Before you could sabotage yourself, your knuckles tapped against the door. 

“Comin’!” 

The sound of Joel’s voice in the distance electrified your nerves. He was right there. Any moment, he’d open the door and—.

The door cracked open, and you stared up into the familiar brown eyes that plagued every memory overlapping inside your mind. Joel stood motionless, his eyebrows slightly raised and lips parted. He looked at you as if you were a ghost. You gave him the most pathetic smile, unsure of what to do with your hands or body. 

“Can I come in?” You blurted out. 

“Of course,” he said softly, opening the door wider. 

A simple step over the threshold, and you were home. 

You took a moment to let it all settle in: nothing had changed. The varnish was worn in certain places on the floor, the same as it had been when you lived here. Joel walked the same path daily: through the front door and to the right, directly into the kitchen. Sarah’s soccer bag hung on the staircase railing, a pair of her shoes strewn across the second step. 

“Is Sarah home?” You asked, your eyes still wandering around the downstairs of the house.

“No, she’s stayin’ with a friend this weekend,” he replied.

Joel shifted his weight, tearing your focus away from the house and back onto him. There was a look of confusion furrowing his brows together, and you realized you hadn’t entirely explained yourself to him yet.

“Listen, I know I’m here unannounced,” you started. “I, uh, I haven’t touched the book since you gave it back. Well, I didn’t until today. I found it again, and this slipped out.”

Digging through your purse, you pinched the Polaroid between your fingers and pulled it free. Joel hesitantly reached for it, his fingers avoiding touching yours as he held it between his hands. A small smile formed on his lips as he ran his thumb over the photo's edges. 

“This was from a campin’ trip we went on with Sarah,” he sighed. “Sarah had just taken a tumble in some mud, and I remember I couldn’t stop laughin’, and you were quick with a camera and snapped this photo.”

“I know.”

“I got a photo of you, too. I still got it hangin’ up somewhere—.”

Joel’s voice trailed off, his eyes drifting up to yours. He had been so wrapped up in reminiscing that he didn’t listen to what you said. 

“Do you still have the one of Sarah, too?” 

Joel’s eyes grew wide, swaying in place. 

“You remember?” He faltered.

“I remember everything, Joel.”

Not Mr. Miller. Joel. 

Joel opened and closed his mouth at least three times before finally just shaking his head. He took a step back, letting the picture fall to the ground. You glanced down at the Polaroid lying between your feet, the photo of Joel doubling in your vision. Your body moved on its own accord, your balance teetering as you stumbled a bit to the side. Joel quickly caught your weight, his hands firm around your arm. 

“Woah,” he exhaled. “Y’okay?”

“I might have a concussion,” you laughed absently. “Took a bit of a fall earlier and hit my head.”

Joel cursed under his breath and slipped an arm around your waist, guiding you toward the dining room. Sunlight bled through the window shades on the wall, and you squinted your eyes to avoid intensifying your headache. The kitchen was just as you had remembered: cluttered and homey. Piles of dishes were laid in a drying rack by the sink, the dark countertops void of dirt aside from a few crumbs from toast or a residual ring of condensation from a beer bottle.

Joel helped you into one of the dining room chairs, moving swiftly to get you a glass of water. You weren’t sure if he meant to do it, but he had sat you in your chair at the table, the one you had always chosen during any family meal with him and Sarah. You smoothed your hands over the table, digging your nails into the groves of the woodwork.

“Here,” Joel said, extending a glass to you. 

You muttered a soft thank you, taking a drink as he took a seat beside you—his seat. The silence between you both was louder than the ringing in your ears, and you couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Say something,” you pleaded.

Joel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he peered up at you through glassy eyes. You knew that look: the exhaustion, the sadness. You had worn it well the last several months, and clearly, so did Joel. The person you were six months ago would have loved seeing Joel look so disheveled, but not now. Not when the past was hanging in the balance, finally uncovered and real. 

“Does Bennett know you’re here?” Joel asked, his eyes rising to yours. 

“What?” You gaped. Out of all the things Joel could have said, he chose that?

“Tommy saw y’all together,” he huffed. 

You wracked your brain, remembering when Tommy could have seen you and Bennett together. The only time you had seen Bennett was after the…. Oh. 

“He asked to meet me after everything happened,” you explained. “He wanted to share his side of things. You left out a lot, Joel. There was so much you didn’t tell me, and I had to rely on Bennett to piece the rest back together.”

“Are you datin’ him again? ‘Cause if you are, just tell me, and I’ll—I’ll find a way to move on and let you be happy. I ain’t gonna get in the way of your happiness, even if that means it’s with him.”

There was no way to ignore the bitterness in his words, yet you stifled a laugh. 

“After everything that’s happened, you actually think I'd go back to him?” You questioned. 

“Christ, I don’t know,” Joel sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. 

“Bennett’s married,” you stated. “You must not have seen his wedding band when you were beating the shit out of him.”

Joel was harrowingly silent, his eyes trained on the work boots covering his feet. All you ached for was some sort of reaction—some kind of response—and he gave nothing. Your expectations had been set so high for this moment, yet nothing was going as you hoped. 

“I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest,” you said.

“Of course.” 

“Why didn’t you fight for me?” You whispered. “When everyone was making decisions for me, why didn’t you step in and fight back?”

“I tried,” he lamented. “Your family decided on everythin’, and I couldn’t step in.”

“Yes, you could have,” you pressed. 

You brushed your hand over the stumble on his jaw, lifting his face to meet yours. You saw it deep within the dark brown of his eyes: regret. 

“That’s not a good enough answer, Joel. No one fought for me,” you pressed. “I was alone in everything, and you should have been the one person standing up to them against everything they were choosing to do. You let Bennett come back into my life when you knew he had been horrible to me in the past. Why were you so willing to just let me go?”

Joel grabbed your free hand and brought it to his lips, pressing soft kisses into the center of your palm. It wasn’t till the first tear hit your fingers that you realized he was crying. Joel looked defeated, his face framed between one hand and your other pressed against his lips. Truly and utterly defeated. 

“I never wanted to let you go. Sayin’ that last goodbye to you while you were in the hospital was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do, and I ain’t got no excuses for the choices I made. If I could go back and change everythin’, I would. I swear I would in a heartbeat. Losin’ you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know I coulda done more. You deserved more. You deserved better, and I shoulda been the one there for you. Not Bennett. I know I ruined everything. Fuck, I—I really fucked it all up.”

“I hate you for what you did,” you said, lifting your hand to brush away his tears. “I hate you so much for hurting me.”

Joel only nodded, more tears streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone, tracing the line of his beard as it dipped down to his jaw. Joel released a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. 

“There ain’t enough words to describe how sorry I am,” he mumbled into your hand. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for hurtin’you, and I’ve been livin’ with that guilt for years. I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.”

“I was happy, Joel. With you. I loved you so much. So many memories are still unraveling in my head, but in each of them, I know I loved you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he cried softly. 

“I hate you, Joel. I hate you, but I can’t ignore the fact that I still love you. I love the life we built together and the memories we made with Sarah. I miss this house, and I miss this kitchen where we’d make breakfast together. I miss waking up beside you every day. I miss staying up late with you and annoying you about the books I was reading.” You took a deep breath, trying to slow yourself down. “I miss you, Joel. I don’t know how long it will take me to forgive you, but I—I really miss you.”

A choked sob escaped from Joel’s mouth, and he leaned his head back, your hands falling into your lap. You didn’t know what to do with yourself other than try not to throw up—because your body was still trying to desperately fight off the nausea rolling inside your stomach. Confessing feelings while also battling a minor concussion had not been your brightest idea, but you had braved through worse before. 

So many moments of silence passed before Joel finally glanced back at you, his lips twitching as he held back another round of tears. 

“Y’have no fuckin’ idea how much I miss you,” he confessed. “I’ve waited so long for the moment you’d remember everythin’. I tried to imagine what I’d do when y’got those memories back, and… fuck. I’m so sorry for everythin’ I did.”

You took his hands in yours, interlocking your fingers around his. It was your turn to start crying, and you felt the tears fall against your fingers.

“What did you do?” You asked. “When you imagined me getting my memories back, what did you do?”

“I imagined kissin’ you and tellin’ you how much I loved you,” he said.

“What’s taking you so long?”

In one fluid motion, Joel sent his chair flying backward as he dropped to his knees before you. Reaching up, he cupped your face between his large hands, his mouth hovering over yours. You weren’t sure what he was waiting for, but you gave him a simple nod, and that was enough. 

The first kiss was delicate— cautionary. He wavered between losing control and reluctance, the path of his lips moving fluidly like they had always known their place against yours. It was so much different than the first kiss months ago, where then it had been about discovery and excitement, each draw of your bodies together new and profound. But now, it was a kiss to rekindle a flame that had dwindled out, a resurgence of emotions neither of you had experienced in years. Yes, those few months together had been exhilarating, but you had barely scratched the surface of where the bounds of your love lay.

You were the first to cave into the chaos, deepening the kiss until Joel’s movements determined your breathing. When his head moved, so did yours. When his tongue overlapped yours, you repeated the motion. Over and over until you lost the ability to identify where you started and he ended. 

“Joel,” you panted, his lips still crushed against yours.

“Hmm?”

He was too enamored with you to respond coherently. You raked your nails over his scalp, refamiliarizing yourself with the softness of his curls. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his tongue dancing with yours once more.

“Joel,” you muttered again. 

“Yeah, baby?” He exhaled, finally breaking away from your swollen lips. 

You pressed your forehead against his, your eyelashes fluttering up at him. Joel looked down at you with blown pupils, the brown color in his eyes nearly black as he waited for your response.

“I think you forgot to say something,” you whispered, laughing softly. 

“Don’t think I forgot at all, baby. Just wanted to savor you a minute,” Joel grinned. “I love you. God, I love you so fuckin’ much. Ain’t ever gonna stop tellin’ you how much I love you.”

“I still don’t forgive you for everything,” you reminded him. “It’ll take me some time to heal from all of this fully.”

Joel brushed his nose against yours, his lips tugging upward.

“I got all the time in the world, baby. Gonna spend every damn day provin’ myself to you. I’m already on my knees for you. Anythin’ you ask of me, I’ll give it to you.”

Breathless. You were breathless. This was the man you should have spent your life with, the man you should have married. Joel saw his faults, admitted them, and submitted himself to you out of love and dedication. Anger was still to be had, but it could wait. 

“Anything?” You echoed.

He trailed his fingers up your bare legs, his hands teasing their way higher. You mindlessly decided on a dress earlier and thanked yourself for it. A shiver ran over your skin as he pushed the hem of the dress further up, his head bending down to kiss a path over your knee and up your thigh. 

“God, I missed you so damn much, baby,” Joel groaned, his tongue gliding over your pebbled skin.

“Show me how much you missed me.”

Joel lay his head in your lap, his puppy dog eyes staring up at you with a glimmer of desire. You knew that look; you had seen it so many times before in his eyes. Too many memories had taken their place in your mind to ever let you forget the way Joel looked at you when he wanted you. 

“Can I?” He asked, brushing his hand between your thighs.

Your body responded easily to his touch, a familiarity you once knew. The friction of your underwear against your clit was growing uncomfortable as it throbbed at the vibration of his voice. Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to Joel in more ways than one. You craved to be touched, to be pulled apart and put back together in the ways only he knew. 

Joel tugged your ass down to the edge of the chair, flicking the hem of your dress into your lap. You tried working your fingers over the band of your underwear, but Joel beat you to it with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Well, dizzier than you already were. 

Joel hoisted your calves over his shoulders, settling himself between your thighs. Flashes of memories in this exact position came flooding in; this was familiar. Familiarity beyond compare and something you desperately yearned for. 

“Please,” you whined.

He wasted no time giving in to your plea. Joel licked a thick stripe up your slick entrance, rewarding himself with a soft moan leaving your lips. You unknowingly lied months ago when you said no one had tasted you like this… Joel had. He thrived on giving you pleasure like this, doing this countless times before. He knew your body better than anyone else, and your body cried out for him in ways you could not control. 

He devoured you like he sought to destroy the years of distance that had passed between you. Every flick of his tongue against the apex of your sex, every gravelly moan from his throat—it all revolved around that undeniable truth that you both were meant to be together. That’s how it should have always been. 

“More,” you begged.

Words failed you, yet Joel knew what you needed. His tongue plunged inside of you, curling ever so slightly. The pleasure inside you burned slowly, igniting a warmth through your veins. You throbbed against his mouth, his breath hot on your skin as he latched onto your clit. You arched against him, your hand snaking down to latch onto the hair on his scalp. Joel let out a prideful moan, working his tongue faster against your aching bud. 

“There… right there…” You whimpered.

Joel gave the softest nod as if to say I know, driving you closer to the edge. A hitch of your breath, another flick of his tongue, repeated motions back and forth until your orgasm was crashing against the surface. You cried out, tears springing from your eyes as you succumbed to the climax wracking through your limbs. Joel pulled away, his mouth and mustache glistening from your release. 

Lowering your legs off his shoulders, Joel wordlessly hooked an arm around your waist and hauled you onto the dining table, the wood creaking under the weight. You pawed at his shirt, and Joel obliged your silent request as he yanked it over his head. You lifted yourself on your forearms, drinking in the sight of his bare chest. You glanced up at Joel to catch him smirking, amused by your silence.

“Y’can’t be lookin’ at me like that, baby,” Joel groaned, stepping between your open legs. “Not when I got you spread out and ready for me.”

“I can look at you however I want,” you smiled. 

Joel leaned down to meet your lips, dragging you in for a long kiss. 

“I missed you so fuckin’ much,” he chuckled.

His lips worked their way down your neck, sucking marks into your skin, while his hands worked quickly at the belt around his waist. Hooking one leg around his waist, you drew him closer, your breath hitching as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

Joel drove himself deep inside you in one thrust, the tip of his cock spearing into you. You gasped as his cock filled you with its entirety, your body stretched passed comfortability. You forgot how much you loved feeling him everywhere. With his cock fully seated inside you, Joel leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I need to hear y’say it, baby,” he begged. “Please tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you exhaled. “I love you.”

That’s all he needed to hear—a simple admission, a coupling of words that rewrote the story lost between the both of you. You spent months trying to deny your love for him, but there was no way to deny this connection. There was always an invisible string connecting you both, and though the string had frayed and unraveled, this moment snapped it back into place. 

“I love you,” Joel said. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you go.”

He pulled out slowly, only to snap his hips forward and render you speechless. You reached up to hold him against you, your nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his shoulder blades. Thrust after thrust, Joel drilled into you forcefully—brutally. You cried out every time his body slapped against yours, and your vision started to blur around the edges. Your core clenched around him, your thighs slick from your arousal that dripped between your bodies. 

“Takin’ my cock so well, baby,” Joel praised. “Doin’ so good for me.”

“Yes… yes…” You chanted the word between every thrust that he assaulted you with, every caress of his fingers around your waist, another revelation of how perfect you were together. 

“My perfect—fuck—perfect girl,” he gritted out.

Joel locked an arm around your back and lifted you from the table, spinning you both until your back hit the wall across from the table. The impact was enough to knock the air from your lungs and dizzy your mind, but he gave you no opportunity to recover before he was driving upwards into you, the new angle sending sparks of pleasure through your muscles. With one arm braced around your body and a hand pressed against the wall beside your head, Joel ground into you deeper…slower… your body begging for release. He could sense it, too, the way your thighs tightened around his waist and your cheeks dampened with tears.

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby,” Joel crooned. “I know you’re close. Gonna cum for me? Gonna give me what I want?”

“Please,” you cried, nodding vigorously.

Joel crushed his lips against yours, and you sobbed into his open mouth. Your body sized around him as your orgasm tore through you, stronger than the first. His thrusts stalled as your core pulsed through the aftershocks, the room spinning quicker every time another wave of release rocked through your stomach.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl. Give me everythin’. I got you. Keep goin’.”

It was disastrous how obedient your body was to his commands. You entangled yourself in him, your tongue rolling over his tongue to silence his muffled words. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and soon enough, he punched out your name through clenched teeth, spilling himself into you. 

You rested your head back against the wall, his body sagging into yours as you both fought for air. The slow drip of his cum down your inner thigh and the sweat clinging to your brow was the only sensation you could feel as time passed in comfortable silence. 

“I love you, baby,” Joel groaned, his head falling onto your shoulder.

You carded a hand through his hair, leaning your cheek against his sweat-dampened curls. Right there, in Joel’s arms, everything made sense. The anger inside you could dissolve away—at least for a little while—and you could remind yourself that this was what love felt like. To be held. To be seen. To be cherished. 

Faint sounds of sniffling traveled past the rush of blood pumping in your ears, and you tugged at his curls to pull his head off your shoulder. Joel looked up at you through blurry eyes, his thick lashes coated in fresh tears. 

“It’s okay,” you hushed. 

“It’s not, though,” he argued. “I shoulda came back sooner. I shouldn’t have waited. There’s so much time we can’t get back, baby. S’all my fault.”

“We’ve got time,” you said softly. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you, Joel.”

“Promise?” He asked. 

“I promise.”

The evening grew late, and both you and Joel had settled into bed. It surprised you when you cried at seeing his room again, realizing nothing about it had changed. The fan was still humming softly in the corner as it always had, the soft breeze floating over the bedsheets as you climbed under the covers. Miscellaneous items were scattered on his dresser, and worn clothes littered the floor beside his hamper. Joel mumbled a slew of apologies at the sight of the mess, but it only made you cry harder. You didn’t care if it was messy. You only cared that you were finally home. Even without the memories resurfacing, your house never felt this way. It had never been a home because Joel wasn’t there to make it a home.

“How’re y’feelin’, baby?” Joel asked, his hand drawing circles into your back as you leaned against his naked body. 

“Like I could spend the rest of the night throwing up,” you said, half-jokingly. 

Your headache was splintering into a full-blown migraine, and your body had yet to recover from the fall earlier in the day. You had no regrets about being fucked against the wall, but it definitely proved to have done some damage to your fragile state.

“If I had known y’needed a good hit to the head to get all these memories back, I woulda tripped you myself,” Joel teased.

You attempted to laugh, only to have the nausea rising in your throat silence your efforts. 

“Don’t make me laugh right now,” you groaned, curling yourself tighter around his body.

“S’only kiddin’, baby. I’m just way too damn happy to have you in my arms again. I spent the last few months tryna figure out how I’d go on livin’ without you.”

“It wasn’t easy for me either,” you sighed. “I hardly recognize myself most days.”

“I won’t lie, seein’ you at parent-teacher conferences nearly broke me,” Joel admitted. 

“It broke me, too.”

Silence slipped over you, and the fan turned into the only noise inside the bedroom. Joel’s chest rose and fell softly under your head, his heart pounding echoing through your ear as you pressed yourself further into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke. “I wish I had a better word to describe how sorry I am. It wasn’t right of me to lie to you, and I shouldn’t have ever let your family make that decision.”

“I haven’t talked to them in months,” you muttered. “I don’t know how to forgive them for what they did.”

“Y’don’t need to forgive them until you’re ready. I just hope y’know they love you, baby.”

“I do know they love me, and that’s why it’s so hard. How can they love me yet still hurt me so much?”

Joel pressed a soft kiss against the crown of your head, his fingers squeezing around your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” you said, your voice cracking. “But I don’t know how to feel anything but anger towards them. Especially toward Beth. The things she’s said to me in the past…How do I forgive her?”

“I ain’t gonna take sides,” he cautioned. “But I think the accident affected her the hardest. She was so angry at your family's plan, and I think she took out a lot of that anger on you when y’didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “It’s not fair that she gets to be angry when she wasn’t the one that lost everything.”

“You were her everythin’, baby,” Joel whispered. “She lost you.”

“You’re taking her side,” you grumbled.

“I’m just tryna show you the other side of things,” Joel offered. 

“I know you are.”

Joel sunk further into the pillows, dragging you down beside him. You nestled into his arms, your limbs twisting around him like they had a hundred times before. It’s odd what your body remembers, but your brain forgets; it is a simple gesture of an embrace that can never be entirely forgotten. You understood why things always felt so right when you met him again last year; your soul knew he was the missing piece that had been lost. 

Joel spoke your name softly, the syllables more beautiful than ever when they rolled through his accent. You hummed in response, gazing up at him through tired eyes.

“I woulda waited an eternity for you, baby,” he confessed. “I woulda gone to my grave waitin’ to have you back in my arms like this again.”

You blinked away the tears welling in your eyes, failing miserably to hide the quiver of your lips. Joel didn’t wait for your response, nor could you verbalize anything to match the poetry of his words. You only nodded and said, " I love you, " before your eyes drifted shut. Home. You were home.

Joel was softly snoring when you woke up. In the quiet light of the morning, you took the time to admire every softened feature of his face. The worried creases between his brows had smoothed overnight, yet you still found yourself brushing a finger over the spot they usually were. Brushing your hand down his face, you traced the outline of his lips, slightly parted and pouty, the soft kiss more kissable now than ever. Kissing him could wait; you wanted to savor this moment. 

You drew a path down his neck and chest, the spattering of hair across his torso tickling your fingertips. Joel stirred above you, his head rolling to the other side of the pillow. His eyes never opened, though, and you took the opportunity to crawl under the sheets. 

Joel’s cock lay heavy against his lower abdomen, precum leaking onto the soft skin of his stomach. You ran your hands over his hips, settling yourself lower until you were comfortable between his legs. His cock twitched as you wrapped a hand around his length, stroking him slowly and deliberately. Leaning your head down, you kissed up the shaft of his cock, dragging your tongue up the length and around the head. Joel’s body tensed up, yet he still didn’t wake. You took him into your mouth, the salty taste and musky scent overwhelming your senses. You hadn’t pleasured him like this in so long, and you had forgotten how much you loved it. 

Taking him deeper, you flattened your tongue, teasing the base of his cock with the tip of your tongue. You faintly heard a moan slip from Joel’s mouth, his cock twitching against your tongue. 

“Baby?” He groaned.

You hummed softly, pulling him from your mouth. With your saliva coating the entirety of his cock, you pumped him quicker, feeling his body seize up under your touch. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, bucking his hips upward. 

You rewarded him with another swirl of your tongue over the head of his cock, your mouth and hand working in tandem. He was close; you could feel it. 

“Just like that, baby. Forgot—fuck—forgot how good your mouth feels.”

You took him deeper, the tip of his cock tapping against the back of your throat. You sputtered around him, drool rolling down the corners of your mouth, yet you didn’t stop. Hollowing your cheeks, you heard Joel choke out a gasp. The warmth of his release flooded your mouth, coating the back of your throat and tongue. You drank down every drop, pulling off of him with a soft pop.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, slumping into the pillows. “Get your ass up here, baby.”

You crawled over his body, your legs straddling his waist. Joel grinned up at you, his tired eyes still barely open as he drank in your naked body. 

“C’mere,” he yawned, reaching up to grab the back of your neck.

His soft lips met yours, and you molded your body to him, letting him guide your mouth however he pleased. There was still a pang of anger tucked into the darkest corner of your heart, but you knew with time, it might fade away, and all you wanted was to bask in Joel’s love as long as possible. Things would take time, but you were willing to work on it. 

“I missed wakin’ up to you,” Joel muttered, his lips working down your jaw.

You could feel him growing hard against your core as you ground your hips down on him. It was impossible to hide the fact you were slick with arousal between your thighs, your body terribly responsive to every touch he placed on your body.

“You’re drenchin’ me, baby,” he groaned. “Need to feel your pussy now.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Damn fuckin’ right you are.”

You lifted your hips, notching his cock at your entrance. Inch by inch, you sunk onto him, both of you exhaling a shaky moan as he stretched you open. Leaning forward, you laced your fingers through Joel’s, holding him firm in your grasp. All you ached for was the tenderness he could provide, the slow synchronicity that flowed through his body and into yours. 

A gentle rub of his thumb over the back of your hand, the slow rise and fall of your hips against his cock… it was the lazy movements that spoke louder than words. It was the recognition that you were his just as he was yours. Soft moans fell off your lips as Joel guided you against his cock, little reassuring grunts leaving his mouth with each roll of your body.

“S’fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” Joel exhaled.

The sun seeping through the blinds lit the amber flecks around his pupils, the morning light painting his naked body golden. The veins beneath his thick neck strained as he lifted his head to watch you, his lips parted in awe as you sucked him further inside your slicken sex. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he demanded. “Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

Your fingers slipped away from his hand, brushing down his flexed stomach as you made a path to your throbbing clit. The feather-like touch immediately sparked pleasure through your core. You clenched around his cock, whimpering with each circle of your fingertips. 

“I feel it, baby. I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm,” you whined.

Joel raised his body to press into your chest, one hand cradling your heavy breast, the other kneading the flesh of your ass. With his weight against your body, your hand pressed harder against your clit, the arousal pooling between where your bodies connect. 

Your head fell onto his shoulder, teeth sinking into his sweat-covered skin. Joel groaned at the sensation, only grounding you down harder onto his cock. You needed every atom of your being injected with Joel; every one of your senses evaded with his taste, touch, and scent. 

“Joel,” you mumbled, nestling your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m so close… so close.”

“I got you, baby. Gonna fall apart right here with you.”

He barely finished speaking by the time your orgasm ignited in your stomach, your body shuddering within his embrace. Joel spoke your name in broken syllables, his release pouring into you only moments later. 

Neither of you broke apart once your spasms subsided. Joel tangled a hand into the hair resting at the nape of your neck, urging your lips to his. Slotting your mouth over his, you slipped your tongue over his bottom lip, a starved search for a deeper connection. Joel fulfilled your need, devouring the soft sounds you exhaled.

Slowly—reluctantly—you tore from his lips, gasping for air to fill your lungs. Joel’s swollen lips formed into a crooked smile, his brown eyes softening the longer he gazed at you. Somewhere inside your chest, you felt that pain reawaken, a haunting reminder that you could have had this all along. Had the lies never been told… Joel would have always been yours. 

How did he survive the years of pain? How did he allow himself to let you go, knowing you’d never be satisfied with another?

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you turned your head to hide the emotions cresting over your face. Nothing went unnoticed with Joel, and he gently pinched your chin to bring your eyes back to his. With furrowed brows, Joel studied your features, the realization striking home for him, too.

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he whispered. “And I know there’s a lot I gotta fix between us, but I swear to you that I ain’t ever gonna leave again. I made that mistake once, and I’ll never do it again.”

“I want to trust you, Joel. I’m trying. But I don’t know how to forget what you’ve done… what everyone has done. There’s so much pain inside me. It’s unbearable.” 

Joel cradled your face in his hands, leveling you with a gaze you couldn’t discern. So many emotions swirled within his eyes, an endless expanse of grief that weighed him down. 

“Give me your pain. Give me all your anger and everything inside you, and I swear I’ll keep you safe. Y’ain’t ever gonna be alone again. Not while I’m still breathin’, baby. It’s you and me. Forever.”

“Forever,” you echoed. 

“Yes, forever. I don’t want another moment of my life without you in it. I can’t lose you again.”

“I can’t lose you, either,” you cried. “I never wanted to lose you in the first place, so please don’t leave.”

Joel’s eyes clouded with tears, and he shook his head. 

“I love you too much ever to leave you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m keepin’ you so long as y’let me.”

Eventually, you both made it out of the bed. Joel grumbled at your wishes to leave, keeping you in his arms and peppering your skin with kisses. It wasn’t long before your dizziness set back in, and you were demanding water and painkillers. 

As Joel poured you a glass of water, you found yourself swaying against the cold tile floors of the kitchen, the corners of your vision blurring. Your nails scratched at the kitchen countertop as you tried to suppress the lightheaded feeling creeping in. You just needed to sit…that’s all you needed. 

You called out Joel’s name the moment your knees buckled beneath you. His body moved in a foggy haze as you tried to keep consciousness, yet you were being pulled beneath the surface of your headache. Strong hands tucked themselves under your armpits, and Joel lowered you to the ground. 

“Baby?” His voice was frantic—strained. 

You mumbled a few incoherent words as your body sagged into his arms. Christ, your head ached. You hadn’t experienced a fainting spell since the accident, and you forgot how terrifying it was. 

Joel choked out your name, his hand snaking around your jaw to wag your head back and forth. You could see his silhouette over you, the shadow molding into the spots within your field of vision, but nothing else registered. Slipping. Drowning. You weren’t strong enough to fight it. Fear set your nerves alight; what if you lost it all again? What if everything melted away into the darkness consuming you? You clawed tooth and nail as your body plunged deeper into unconsciousness. 

It was no use. 

**

Joel paced the hallway outside your hospital room like a madman. The moment you went limp in his arms, he knew something was wrong. He should have taken your injury more seriously and urged you to the hospital yesterday. But he had you in his arms again, and the world would have had to fall apart before he even considered letting you go. Every admission from your lips weighed down on Joel’s shoulders, another swell of guilt growing inside him. He anticipated your anger, your grief, your heartbreak; he willingly listened without argument. His own struggles were nothing compared to what you endured, and he’d be damned if you ever felt those emotions again. Chewing at his nails, Joel glanced back at the open blinds of your hospital room. The doctors assured him you’d be okay; it was only a concussion, and there’d be no complications. That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be absolutely sure you’d recover. 

The door cracked open, and Joel rushed toward the neurologist leaving your room. 

“How is she, doc?” Joel asked. “She’s gonna be okay, right?”

The neurologist, Dr. Oliver, nodded with a soft smile. The smile alone settled the rapid heartbeat banging against Joel's ribcage. 

“Miss Smith is going to be just fine,” Dr. Oliver reassured. “There’s going to be a long road to recovery, but I don’t see any long-term effects. I suggest you bring her in for check-ins with me every few months just to monitor her progress.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Joel nodded. 

“What I need you to do, Mr. Miller, is to help her. She may be a bit forgetful occasionally, so leaving lists around the house or notes will help keep her on track. You do live together, I assume?”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he had yet to learn how to shake. 

“We don’t, but if y’recommend it…”

“I recommend it, but only because she’ll need someone looking over for her. At least, until she regains enough cognitive strength to keep her memory at full capacity,” Dr. Oliver explained. 

“I can do that, Doc. All I want is for her to be okay.”

Dr. Oliver clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder, his lips curving into a grin. Joel could finally breathe; you’d be okay. 

“You’re a good man, Mr. Miller. She’s lucky to have you here to care for her.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Give her some time to rest, and she’ll be clear to go home tomorrow.”

Dr. Oliver said his goodbyes to Joel and bounded down the hallway to other patients. Joel glanced at the open door, your sleeping frame tucked into the bed among the cords and beeping monitors. He entered quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor so he wouldn’t wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Joel took your hand in his, cautious to avoid the IV tube taped onto your skin. Smoothing lines over the inside of your wrist, Joel watched you with weary eyes. 

“I love you, baby. I’m gonna be right here when y’wake up,” he vowed. “Like it always shoulda been.”

Leaning over your body, Joel pressed his lips against your forehead, inhaling your sweet scent as he pulled away. 

You’d be okay, and you’d forever be his. 

**

The harsh light above you reflected behind your eyelids. You groaned as you stirred awake, your eyes squinting to adjust to the layers of white surrounding you. Curling your fingers into the scratchy blanket, you found a familiar body sagged into a chair beside the bed. Joel slept peacefully, yet the worry lines creased between his brows. Extending your hand over the edge of the bed, you brushed your palm over his knee. 

“Joel,” you whispered. 

His body jolted upright as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Big, brown puppy dog eyes met yours, the concern in his face dissolving away once his eyes settled on yours. He made no effort to contain the smile breaking across his face. 

“Hey, handsome,” you croaked. 

“Baby,” Joel sighed, crouching beside the bed. “How’re y’feelin’?”

“A little fatigued, but I think I’ll live.”

“You better,” he chuckled. 

With your arms outstretched, you ushered Joel into an embrace. Joel’s lips crashed against yours the second he wrapped his arms around you, his touch soft and cautious. Beautiful melancholy emotions wracked your body; this was the moment you ached for from the start. To be held in your vulnerability, to be cherished, to be loved. Joel didn’t leave. He’d always be here, now. 

“There’s someone here to see you, baby,” Joel muttered against your mouth. 

You pulled away, confusion scrunching your eyebrows together. God, don’t let it be your family. 

“I know that look. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be right back. I promise you’ll be happy,” Joel reassured. 

Joel disappeared from the room, and you sat up, settling back into the pillows. You glanced at the monitor beeping beside your bed, the steady line of your heart rate cruising along the screen. Footsteps sounded outside your room, and your eyes flicked back toward the door, a small silhouette hiding behind Joel’s large frame. 

Sarah. 

Her bright eyes looked between you and Joel, her stare quizzical–skeptic. You gave her a small wave, ushering her into the room. 

“Hi, Sarah,” you faltered. The tears were already forming on your waterline. 

“Hi, Miss Smith,” she said wearily. 

You patted the bed, scooting over to make room for her. Her steps were slow as she neared the bedside, her eyes glancing back at Joel. He gave her an encouraging nod, a knowing grin on his lips. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” you laughed softly. 

Sarah settled onto the bed, her tennis shoes swinging over the floor as she fidgeted with her curls. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile glued to his face. 

“But you’re my teacher,” she muttered. 

You tucked a loose strand behind her ear, the same hair you had braided and brushed years ago. She wasn’t yours, not by birth. But she was yours just as much as Joel was; she was your home. They weren’t just photos captured in time; they were real. They were real, and they were yours. 

“Do you remember when I used to read you bedtime stories?” You wondered aloud. “You would always ask for the same one over and over.”

There it was. The light sparkled in the gold flecks of Sarah’s eyes, the same gold that sat deep within Joel’s. 

“You and Dad would read The Kissing Hand every night,” she nodded. 

“I know you’re a lot older now, but do you remember what we would do before you fell asleep?”

You reached for Sarah’s hand, lifting it to your lips. With a soft kiss on her palm, you guided her hand to her cheek. Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she leaned into your touch, the simple caress of your hand against her face enough to bring you both to the brink of crying. 

“I missed you, kiddo,” you cried softly. 

Sarah threw her arms around your neck, muffling her sobs into your hospital gown as you squeezed your arms tighter around her body. You missed so many milestones and moments of her life because of the accident, so many memories that were never made. Every family meal, every soccer game…you lost them all. 

You lifted your eyes, catching the moment Joel swiped away a tear from his cheek. Beckoning him over with a quick motion of your hand, he crossed the room in two quick strides and wrapped his large arms around you and Sarah. You rested your chin on Sarah’s shoulder, hugging her closer. Joel kissed the crown of Sarah’s head, then placed one on your forehead. 

“Wait,” Sarah blurted out, forcing you all to break apart. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Joel asked, craning his head to look at her. 

“Does that mean you’re coming back home?” She asked. 

You looked at Joel for guidance, trying to find the answers within his gentle gaze. He waited in silence, giving you room to decide. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt about your answer, not when you had everything you needed right here. 

“Only if you promise never to make pancakes again,” you smiled, pinching her cheek. 

She buried herself into your arms again, her head resting against your heart. You looked up at Joel, your mouth forming three little words. 

I love you. 

~ Two weeks later ~

Joel refused any help as he unloaded the last of your boxes from the back of his truck. When you got home from the hospital, you patched up the holes in the wall—with Joel’s help, of course—and got the house ready to sell. It barely lasted a week on the market before the offers came in, making it easy to start packing. That house was filled with memories you didn’t want to remember, memories that you no longer wanted to revisit. It wasn’t home to you anymore. 

You and Sarah sat on the front porch, popsicles in hand, watching as he huffed an exasperated breath once the box hit the steps. Joel straightened out, running sweaty hands down the sides of his jeans, glancing back at the empty truck bed. 

“Well, I think that’s the last of it,” Joel sighed. “Y’sure we ain’t miss anythin’?”

“I think I’ve got all I need right here,” you grinned, nudging Sarah with your shoulder. 

Joel plopped beside you on the porch, leaning over to lick up the sticky residue of the popsicle that had fallen down your arm. You gave him a warning look, shifting your eyes toward Sarah as if to say: Behave. He only shrugged, sticking out his tongue again to tickle your skin. 

“You hungry?” He asked, quirking a brow. 

“Starving!” Sarah declared, rising to her feet. 

You laughed, knowing Joel wasn’t asking her. Nonetheless, you and Joel followed her into the house hand in hand. Over the last couple of weeks, he had decorated the house in countless sticky notes: ones in the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen. Each said something important. The one in the bathroom was stuck on the medicine cabinet, reminding you which toothbrush was yours—the purple one. Joel stuck one by the front door with Sarah’s soccer schedule—snack duty included. There were a few scattered around the kitchen: one telling you where to find the coffee mugs, another one with a list of groceries to buy over the weekend. Three photos hung beside the list, sitting in perfect harmony as they always should have been.  But your favorite was stuck to the cover of Romeo and Juliet, Joel’s messy handwriting scribbled across the yellow paper. It was only a few words but the only reminder you needed. 

Welcome home, baby. 

I love you.

[pedges]

jesus christ i want nothing more than to accidentally marry joel miller in vegas because actually wtf and then you n joel go to this ex’s wedding and you’re talking to the ex, all civil and friendly at the reception while joel’s back at your table and he’s REELING like he’s soo jealous and you come back to the table with the ex and you’re like “this is joel, my husband” and mentally he’s like “damn right i’m your husband” but he says it under his breath and a liiiittle too loudly and you’re like so embarrassed (but also turned on asf) and you can’t say anything because you think that joel thinks this is all a big charade and you have to keep it up in public!!! and then y’all get home and you’re like “literally what the hell joel that was so embarrassing” and he says something lowkey toxic and is all like “well don’t you think it was embarrassing for me to have to watch my wife throw herself at her ex?!?!??” and you’re aghast i mean HELLOOO?!?!! and you’re like “well it’s a good thing none of this is real then” but OBVIOUSLY ITS REAL LIKE HELLLOOOO YALL CUDDLE AND WATCH RERUNS ALMOST EVERY NIGHT YOU CANNNNNN but you never speak about it because you and joel are pussies when it comes to speaking the truth abt your feelings but you calling this situation fake was the final straw for joel and he’s like “well it was real to me.” AND KISS AGAIN BOOM and possible angry/makeup sex i mean who could knows what could happen anyways sorry this was so long and also sorry i forgot my strawb signature on the last one but i literally could not hold myself back on this one

-🍓

STRAWBERRY ANON UR KILLING ME!! my favorite trope is a dumb misunderstanding trope and the idea of you and joel both being like “good thing none of this is REAL then” and sjsjsjajakakakalaoakka like the angst that could arise bc of this…….i am sick and ill and going silly but you’re so right, like the realization moment when you’re both like wow okay this was very real to both of us wasn’t it and JUST! not to mention that you and joel most definitely slept together in vegas and it came back in flashes but you remember enough and have been battling this sexual tension too and i kinda love the idea of things culminating in a hotel room after the wedding bc you fight about it and it boils over and IT ENDS RIGHT BACK WHERE IT STARTED. a hotel room.