#joel x fem oc

[bed-chemist]

❝you've never been to heaven, have you?❞

A/N: this is my first time writing something for tumblr, or like this in general. feedback is greatly appreciated. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. as a baking girly, i couldn't get this story out of my head. i legit would lay in bed at night and dream about hard-ass chef miller and the sweet baker. enjoy ♡

Prelude Summary: the sweetest baker has a birthday lunch with her friends, effectively humbling the chef in the process.

Chapter Warnings: death of a parent (mentioned), language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), threatening (brief, joke between two girl friends in an established friendship).

Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 3.7k ⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

JUNE 30TH

“Welcome to The Austin. I assume you have a reservation?”

Of course, we had a reservation. 

This was one of the hardest restaurants to get into. The reviews are excellent and they’re rumored to be gunning for a Michelin Star. Luckily, my best friend Madeline was what you considered Chicago pretty. Her charisma and beauty make her a shoo-in for being a model.

The long and wavy blonde hair cascades over her back as she flutters her lashes at the host behind the stand. “Yes. It’s my best friend’s birthday and we have a reservation under Madeline Crown,” she speaks for our small group, shoving me forward as the designated birthday girl. A mischievous twinkle flashes in her blue eyes and her smile takes over. 

Raising my hand, I wave awkwardly at the host. “That’s me,” I admit shyly, adjusting my falling crown and sash.

He flashes me a small smile. “Happy Birthday,” he breathes quickly before tapping the screen. “Just the three of you, Ms. Crown?” he asks Maddie, looking behind us at the group.

The phrase makes me grimace. My parents died in a car accident five hundred fifty-six days ago. And for five hundred fifty-six days, I’ve been suffering. They were the closest people to me and left me alone in this world as an only child. The only family I have left is the one I’ve created with Madi, Leo, and their families. I didn’t want to burden them with my birthday festivities, so Madi and I opted for lunch with just the three of us. 

“Yeah. And we need a booth away from eyes,” the third voice in our trio, Leonardo, blurts out. He shifts, anxious to get to our table and out of the lobby. Out of the three of us, he’s more likely to have to be bombarded by people during this lunch given our current surroundings.

Why on earth did I choose to be friends with a socialite and a senator? I don’t like attention and as of now, all eyes are on us. The sash and crown Maddie forced me to wear don’t help.

His two secret service agents stand upright a few paces back. We’d planned for weeks to get clearance for this lunch, so having them tag along was only a slight damper. “Right this way,” the host snaps me out of my spiral, grabbing a couple of menus and motioning us to follow him.

My feet carry me forward through the restaurant behind Madi, who stops to exchange pleasantries with an acquaintance. Softly brushing past her, I continue to follow the host with Leo and his team trailing behind me.

The restaurant is situated on the top floor in the middle of downtown. The open windows allow natural light in and the faint smell of steak wafts through the air as we weave through the open floorplan. My back hunches forward feeling slightly out of place in a room full of the fabulously wealthy.

Although I’m not entirely broke, my bakery just got in the black. If it weren’t for the parental death and what they passed on to me, I’d still studying to be a nurse. But after their death, I decided I’d only do things that would make me happy. Now the glaring separation between me and the rich and powerful feels like a slap in the face.

We reach a square table near the corner of the space. We’re still in view of everyone, there’s just room for Leo’s secret service to stand between us and them. Leo pulls a chair out for me closest to the window and I thank him, sliding into my seat.

The host puts the menus down on the table in front of us before letting us know our server will be with us shortly. Leo thanks him before taking his seat next to me, with his back towards the majority of the restaurant.

Leo sighs as Madi joins us again. “What did I miss?” she huffs.

Rolling my eyes, me and Leo open our menus, “Literally nothing. We just sat down,” I tell her, jokingly.

After some time of reading the menu, the tips of Madi’s fingers twinkle on the table out of the corner of my eye. Her sparkly white nail polish immediately catches my attention. “Well, this place is to die for. What is everyone getting?” she beams.

Flipping back and forth between the sides and appetizer pages, I furrow my eyebrows. “Why the fuck would you bring me to a place with no fries on my birthday?” I ask her begrudgingly.

Leo flips back to the appetizer page and slides his menu over. “They have baked potatoes,” he mansplains, pointing at the page.

Pushing the bound leather book back before him, I shake my head. “I hate to break it to you but that’s not french fries, Bookie,” I counter.

Madi puts her hands up in defense. “They’re a potato. I thought you’d be good with any potato,” she explains.

Leaning back into my chair, I rub my eyebrows in frustration. “Yeah, but I don’t even like steak and we’re at a steak restaurant on my birthday. You know what, fuck it. I’m getting Mcdonalds after–” I start before cutting myself off, noticing the server approaching the table. I don’t want to be rude in a nice restaurant, especially one that’s been so accommodating to my friends.

A brunette woman stands near us. “Welcome to The Austin. My name is Lisa and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you all started with something to drink?” she asks the table.

Sitting up, my mouth opens to speak, but Madi cuts in. “3 margaritas, and keep them coming,” she instructs Lisa.

Lisa nods, flashing a smile towards us. “I’ll be right back with those for you,” she chirps, shifting on her heels to walk towards the back again.

Leo tilts his head at the blonde after we’re left alone. “I can’t drink on the job, Mads,” he scolds Madeline.

Madi shrugs, giving him her signature smirk. “Good thing no one has to know but the three of us, golden boy,” she says, twirling her finger around the table.

Leo seemingly takes the statement to heart, scoffing and crossing his arms. “Oh fuck off. I’m not golden,” he counters.

Shaking my head, I rub his arm so no one snaps a photo of Senator Torres all pent up. “No, you’re not. You’ve just become Mr. Americana to the rest of the world. But we know who you truly are,” I attempt to comfort him. The holes being stared into the back of my head are proving to be lethal.

Leo’s dark brown eyes involuntarily squint as he smiles. “Thank you, Miggy,” he gushes and his body language softens.

And suddenly, I have the ick from the mention of my nickname. How the fuck did Madi date Leo? It was years ago but still. I would’ve thrown up every time he opened his mouth.

Removing my hand from his arm, I raise my eyebrow. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I remind him.

“Might want to ask my assistant about that. I wouldn’t know,” he jokes and I resist the urge to smack him in the chest. 

Not in public and not around bodyguards who could take you down in seconds.

Lisa returns with our drinks and I pick the glass up, taking a sip of the lime-flavored beverage. “What can I get you to eat today?” she asks, glancing back and forth between Madi and me.

Madi chirps her order to Lisa as my eyes scan back and forth over the page. None of the entrees were less than two hundred bucks, and I didn’t have breakfast. 

I can’t drink on an empty stomach. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it,” Leo leans over and murmurs to me.

Shaking my head, I lean towards him to close the gap. “No. Fuck no,” I whisper yell.  He could put it on his card, but I’d still Venmo him for lunch afterward.

He nods with a toothy grin taking over his face. “It’s your birthday and you’re not paying. Get whatever you want,” He objected with finality, turning towards Lisa to order.

Leo’s deep voice drifts to the back of my mind as I scan the menu one last time, finally ready to order. Lisa comes over to me and I decide to try the steak and crab, hoping it’ll change my mind.

Two more rounds of drinks into the lunch, the appetizers arrive at the table. The muscles and oysters taste okay, but the escargot is orgasmic. The buttery breadcrumbs combined with the sourdough has me forgetting I’m eating a snail. Leo and Madi graciously allow me to finish off the plate, offering to order more if I’m interested. Instead of accepting, I fight the urge to lick the plate clean.

When our steaks arrive, Madi claps with excitement. The whole presentation of the meals is rather dramatic. Each dish and its components are read before the plate hits the table. 

My mouth waters as my filet mignon and grilled king crab leg is set in front of me. Madi snaps a photo for her social media while Leo and I dig into our meals. 

My face soon changes from excitement to a grimace as I try the main course. This is fucking disgusting. The grilled crab is burnt and the filet mignon tastes like rubber. My mouth is only able to chew a few bites before scrambling for my drink.

Leo peers up from his plate, tilting his head. “The fuck is your problem?” he questions me.

Shaking my head, I finish off my third margarita. “Nothing,” I murmur. I should be grateful that I’m even here at all. This place is way out of my budget.

Madi seemingly decides to join the conversation and put her two cents in. “It’s not nothing. If you don’t like the food, they’ll remake it. Look, here comes the owner,” She scolds, nodding to the area behind me.

My upper body slowly twists around to see who she’s talking about. The man in question is walking towards us dressed in crisp white chef attire. My eyes drink him in and I notice his curly chocolate hair. I notice a stray curl falling in front of his face and suddenly, I have the overwhelming urge to reach up and fix it. 

I continue my shameless perusal of his body, down to his cuffed shirt hugging him so perfectly and tightly that I can see his muscles. My breathing slightly speeds up. 

That is a beautiful specimen of a man.

I’m jolted out of my stare as Leo stands from the table, nodding to the security. “He’s good. It’s his restaurant, for god's sake,” he barks.

My body becomes stiff as the tall man moves smoothly into our area. “Senator Torres, Sir. Thank y’all for your support,” the stranger smiles slightly, extending his hand for Leo to shake.

Leo’s hand tightens its grip, with his other coming up to smack the man’s elbow. Oh, they know each other well. “No, thank you. The catering you made for my election gala was the reason I won the election,” Leo boasts.

So this is the famous chef they’ve been ranting and raving about. I was out of the country securing the last of my parent's affairs when the gala was thrown; something Leo was gracious enough to let me miss.

The handsome man smiles softly, moving his attention to Madi. “Nice to see you again Ms. Crown. Everythin’ tastin’ great, I see,” he charms her with a smirk on his face. 

My eyebrows furrow trying to pin down his southern accent. Chicago is a metropolitan city, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he were from Louisiana or Florida. Especially with that beautiful tan, he’s adorning.

Madi straightens her back like a cannon ready to fire. “With mine? Yes. But with Ginny’s not so much. Chef Miller, meet the birthday girl, Imogen,” she introduces us and I’m rendered speechless. His deep brown eyes seemingly stare a hole into my soul.

Anxiety creeps up my spine feeling put on the spot and having to give a bad review in person. “Hi,” I wave shyly. 

Chef Miller’s eyes squint in suspicion, focusing down on the food before fixing his gaze back up on me. I silently thank the gods above for a brief break from his intense stare. “You don’t like the steak, darlin’?” he asks, pointedly.

Oh, fuck off. The man is gorgeous, but his food is shit. But, his use of the word darling has me hanging on to every syllable he utters. Shaking my head, I roll my shoulders back a bit. Put the lonely and horny brain away for a second, Ginny. “Or the crab,” I answer.

Chef Miller’s eyebrows raise and I start to etch the details of his face into my brain mentally. He might be early thirties, but the wrinkles on his forehead hint that he’s been through some things. “Nobody has ever complained about my cookin’. What’s wrong with it?” he questions me in his deep husky voice.

Clearing my throat, I bring the plate back in front of me. “It's dry and burnt,” I pause, beckoning Chef Miller over to stand beside me. He walks a bit closer and when he leans over, I can feel his body hovering over mine. When I take a breath, I can smell smoke on him with an undertone of cedar. 

Moving the food around on the plate, I show him his shotty work. “Look,” I point out with my fork.

Chef Miller grunts, reaching forward and effectively caging me in between his body in the table. “I’m sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. Can I get you somethin’ else?” He apologizes, swiftly removing the plate from my view.

Shaking my head, I replay reading the menu in my mind. “No, it’s fine. I don’t like anything on the menu,” I explain solemnly, turning towards him. I don’t want him to feel responsible for my picky eating habits, either.

Chef Miller frowns, “It’s your birthday, honey. I’m not sendin’ you out hungry and upset,” he counters.

Reaching out, I put my hand on his exposed forearm in an attempt to get him to listen to me. “I’m not upset. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I loosely promise him. His eyes snap down to where my fingers are connected to his skin then back up at me. 

My hand quickly retreats as Lisa comes back around to refill our drinks. Chef Miller turns to hand her the plate and she accepts it before grabbing some glasses from the table. “Why don’t you come back into the kitchen with me and I’ll make somethin’ special for you,” the offer drips from his lips as sweet as whiskey caramel. 

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks when I think about being in a room with him. Alone. “No that’s alright. These two have to go soon anyways,” I use the bullshit excuse, hoping he’ll buy it.

He nods, before putting his hands up and conceding. “Ok. Let Lisa know if you change your mind. She’ll bring you back,” he informs me. 

He turns his attention back to the entire group. “Y’all have a good day. Hope to see you soon,” he smiles, turning to leave the secluded area.

Both Leo and Madi bid him a hushed goodbye before turning their attention toward me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead this second.

Madi squints her eyes at me, before shoving her empty plate out of the way. “I’m going to murder you,” she threatens me. 

My head jerks back in shock. “What? Why?” I ask her.

She sighs, taking a sip of her margarita before slamming it back down on the table. “That was your birthday gift, you dumb cunt. You don’t think we know they don’t have fries. They don’t need fries when they have fine-ass Joel Miller. He was practically fucking drolling on your shoulder and you didn’t even notice,” she fumes.

Joel Miller, the hot single chef, is interested in me. I mean, I’m way out of his league. He’s like the working woman’s Timothée Chalamet. “What?” I ask in disbelief again.

Leo crosses his arms and leans comfortably back in his chair, having finished his meal. “Does she have to repeat herself or are you processing?” Leo picks my brain.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean forward a bit. “Processing, give me a moment,” I tell him, closing my eyes.

“You don’t have a moment. We’re ditching you while they turn over for dinner. And you’re going to go back into that kitchen and have a hot chef whip you up a meal, alone. Then you’re gonna have him whip you up, at home,” I hear Madi scheming. 

Suddenly I feel hot, like my whole body just got stuck into an oven. “Madi! I’m not,” I start off shouting a bit at her before realizing we’re in a public space. I’m not even angry at her, I just feel overwhelmed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I bear my soul to her, blinking away tears.

I haven’t had sex since the death of my parents and the cobwebs are tumbling back there. Knowing that my parents would never meet my future partner was a pain that felt soul-crushing. The feeling is just now starting to subside.

Leo reaches up and scratches his curly scalp. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he scolds Madi. 

When I make eye contact with Madi again, her face is soft and warm. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to push you too hard,” she apologizes profusely.

Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I shake out the spiral of anxiety in my head. “It’s fine, can we change the subject?” I plead with the table.

Madi claps her hands in excitement. “Yes, okay!” she cheers. “You know what? Redo gift. Let’s go shopping,” she proposes. 

Nodding, a smile starts to creep onto my face. Hours of mindless walking up and down Magnificent Mile is just what I need right now. “Now that, I can get down with,” I point at her with a grin.

Leo chuckles, standing up from the table. “I’ll see you two this weekend, I have some work to do. Happy birthday, Miggy. I’ll give them my card on my way out,” he bids us goodbye.

Madi waves at her ex-lover. “Bye Leo,” she flirts.

Giggling, I shake my head at her antics. Eventually, they’ll end up together. “You’re the best,” I thank him.

Leo turns around, shooting me a wink. “Anytime, darlin’,” he mocks  Joel.

Madi’s hand slaps to her chest and she fakes retching as he walks away. “Something about him. When Joel does it, it makes my pussy quiver. But when he does it, I want to throw up,” she confesses.

Nodding, I finish the last drink before we can say goodbye to this restaurant for the day. “Ditto,” I sigh, grabbing my purse from the back of my chair.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

part 2

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 1 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (I will be adding more and tag the Masterlist) Thank you @hellishjoel for putting on this contest. It's a lot of fun!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: Roughly 5000

Warning: Dilfy smut, age gap (23 & 42)

Mid-June, 2024. The first summer back home upon college graduation. You knew there would be an adjustment period and while you didn't necessarily feel unhappy, there was a strangeness that left you with feelings you couldn't quite pinpoint. This was your childhood home, your hometown, your room - but still, somehow it felt foreign.

You hung up the maroon cap and gown that showed off the primary color of Texas A+M, the college where you had spent the last four years studying your ass off to get a degree in criminal justice. At twenty-three years old after spending the last few years in a little off-campus apartment with some friends, you were feeling both aggravated and nostalgic upon returning to your parents' house in the suburbs. They were great and you got along just fine; but the freedoms that had gone along with renting your own place were now reeled in a bit tighter. At the very least you knew your mother would likely stay awake on the nights you were out late. Still, you appreciated how much they cared about you.

You moved to your bedroom window and flung it open to let in some air to get rid of the stuffiness that lingered in the house. Immediately, your eyes landed on a man next door standing behind a grill as smoke filtered up above him in a faint, little cloud. He flipped a burger with a pair of metal tongs and took a sip from what looked like a bottle of beer.

"Hey, honey."

You jumped at your mother's voice as if you'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hey." You pressed your eyebrows together and motioned out the window as she entered the room. "Who's that?"

"Oh, I guess it never came up in conversation," your mother said with a shrug, "That's our new neighbor. He moved in back in January."

You glanced back out the window.

"He’s a bit too old for you,” she teased with a laugh.

You whipped around and made a face. "I'm not... I'm not checking him out. I'm just asking why there's a stranger in the Wilsons' backyard." You smirked and raised your eyebrows, "Maybe if my mother told me things I wouldn't have to play detective."

"Isn't that what you got your degree in criminal justice for?"

You chuckled, knowing she would most certainly outwit you in a verbal battle. "And I'm 23 years old. No one's too old for me anymore."

"Well, in that case I hear they just built a nice, new nursing home down the road with plenty of widowed men. I can drive you there if you'd like."

You let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll pass."

The two of you giggled and your mother continued, "Will you be joining your father and I for dinner tonight? We were thinking of just going to Chili's and then heading to a play at the little theater downtown. The kids are putting on Grease."

You smiled as your phone vibrated with a text from your best friend. "It's Holly."

"So, I guess the answer is going to be no," your mother suspected. She smirked and got the hint. “Keep in touch.”

"Okay," you agreed and then cleared your throat when she turned to go. "Mom, what's his name?"

"Huh?"

"The neighbor," you went on, "I should probably introduce myself since I'm going to be a resident of 45 Harding Drive again."

"Joel," her mother replied, "Joel Miller."

Your parents left soon after and so you wandered out to the back steps, waiting for them to take off first before popping open a beer. The ice cold beverage tasted better than normal because of the incoming summer heat that was supposed to really strike the following morning. With a content sigh, you leaned your elbows back on the top step of the set of four that led from the back door into the oversized backyard.

"Jennifer?" a deep, scratchy voice made you jump for the second time that night. You put a hand on your chest and glanced off to the side when you realized a man had called out your mother's name.

The neighbor, you thought, feeling your stomach knot up.

You cleared your throat and rose to your feet, leaving the beer on the top step. "No… I’m (Y/N)." You took a few steps in his direction though he made his way almost all the way to the steps.

"(Y/N)?" His features became clear when he stepped into a small, back light beside the door. The man flashed a friendly, boyish grin from beneath a trim beard. "Tim and Jen’s daughter?"

You looked down sheepishly and smiled before lifting your eyes to meet his stare. "Yeah."

He’s hot, your inner monologue informed you, as if your cheeks hadn't suddenly grown hot.

His eyes shifted to the beer and his grin widened even more before he extended a hand. "I'm Joel... your neighbor."

"Nice to meet you." You gave a closed-mouth smile and took in his appearance, consciously telling herself not to stare. His plain white t-shirt showed off his broad chest and shoulders

Joel cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," you assured him and then cleared your throat, "Do you want a beer or something?"

A smirk twisted onto his face., "No thanks. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow some butter."

"Oh..." You glanced over your shoulder at the back door and then back to Joel.

"You don't have to," he said reassuringly, unable to keep the grin from his face. "You don't even know me yet so-"

"No.” You cut him off, "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Joel's voice cut through you like a knife and he kept his eyes firmly locked on yours.

You nodded, unable to look away for a moment and then waved him inside.

"Don't forget your brew here, honey." He reached down and scooped up the beer as you flung the back door open.

You smiled again, "Thanks."

Joel nodded and followed you in, before glancing around at the modest but modern kitchen. "You, uh... you even old enough to drink this shit?" He motioned to the beer.

You rolled your eyes, "I can show you my ID if that makes you feel any better." You flung open the refrigerator, "I know my parents are going to treat me like I'm in high school again."

"Well... they're just trying to protect you," Joel said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." You glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat pleased to catch him staring - or so you thought. It prompted him to look elsewhere.

"Here." You removed a stick of butter and crossed the room to hand it to him. When the butter landed in his hand you decided to be bold and didn't immediately let it go, "How old are you?"

He chuckled before holding a wicked smirk and again held her captive with his playfully intense eyes. "How old do you think I am?"

You stared back, somewhat used to gaining control over the guys you had dated or been interested in in the past. Already, this time you felt a bit outmatched and part of it was your instant attraction to him. When Joel took one step in her direction, you swallowed hard and gave a random answer.

"Thirty-two?"

Joel laughed a little louder, putting a hand on his stomach. He ran the other hand through his messy brown hair and pointed. "You're so full of shit."

You smiled at him, "I was thinking more of thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

He sucked his teeth and gave you a look up-and-down before smiling wide again. When he didn't say anything in response you flat out asked, "Am I right?"

"Forty-two," Joel finally informed you after a long pause.

"Over the hill then?"

He snickered and then motioned to the fridge, "Ya know... I will have that beer if you don't mind."

You smiled before reopening the fridge to fetch one for him. When you placed a bottle of Bud Lite in his hand he used the counter to pop the top rather than twist it. When the dented bottle cap fell to the floor and danced in circles for a moment you glanced back up to find him continuing to stare as he took a long swig from the bottle.

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your dad going to notice that a few of these are missing?"

"They're mine," you informed him, "And I'm not-"

"A kid, I know..." Joel rolled his eyes now and the two of you shared a laugh, "Believe me when you're my age you'll love that someone will accuse you of being younger."

"I'm sure I will."

He reached down and scooped up the cap from the ground and then held it out in his palm. When you went to reach for it he closed his hand and smiled playfully.

"I'll take it," Joel offered, "Don't want you to get caught drinking these things when your parents come home." He continued to tease you about your age.

"You know, I could've guessed you were fifty."

He laughed out loud. "Smart mouth on you," Joel flashed his index finger at her with the hand that held the bottle, "I like it."

You looked down and laughed again, feeling your cheeks grow hot again from his remark.

"Anyway, I should be getting back." Joel continued to smile, almost triumphantly and winked. "It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you too.”

He held your gaze for an extra second, forcing him to smirk a final time before heading out the back door.

"Thanks for the beer," he said casually, "I'll see ya around."

8:15 pm - the following evening

"Sorry I couldn't make it out last night," Holly said to you. The two of you sat side by side at barstools down at one of the local bars in town. "My boss can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's fine. I had the house to myself so I kind of just had some time to chill and binge watch some old shows."

"Sounds terrible."

You laughed and shrugged. "It was alright."

"Well, here's to... summer?" Holly raised her martini glass and you tapped her beer bottle gently against it.

"To potentially the weirdest summer of my life."

"Why's that?"

You shrugged, "I don't know. Being back home doesn't feel so 'at home' anymore."

"Give it time." Holly sipped her drink, "In a month it'll feel like you never left."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Hey, it's not so bad. I'm here." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Jill and Molly should be home within the week too. We can get the old crew back together before we all get real jobs and have to do shitty adult stuff."

"I'll drink to that," you agreed, taking a longer swig of the beer. You sighed and began to peel at the blue Bud Lite label, letting your mind drift to the night before with Joel. You envisioned him snapping the cap off the top of the beer bottle, using the counter. A smile crossed lingered on your face.

"Ooohh... someone's checking us out," Holly commented, "Or maybe they know you..." Her eyebrows pressed together and she motioned using her head toward a table in the corner of the bar.

"Oh shit." You couldn't contain your response but realized it must've sounded out of place.

"What?" Her friend asked, "Do you know him?"

"That's my neighbor," you informed her, "New neighbor."

Joel smirked and gave a wave but quickly entertained a conversation he was having with two other men at the small, corner table.

"He's kind of a Dilf."

You snickered and shrugged, unable to take your eyes off of him. When Joel glanced back in your direction you looked away and quickly took a sip of your.

"You think he's hot," Holly suspected with a laugh.

"What?" You shook your head, "No... I mean he may have some Dilf qualities or something like you just said but…” The sentence drifted off.

"Mm-hmm..." She continued to stare at her friend with playfully accusing eyes.

"Stop," you joked, "I just met him last night."

"Last night?" Holly perked up, "And..."

"And what?"

"You tell me."

You laughed again, "He came over to the house because he needed some butter."

"More like some sugar," she winked and glanced up toward a television that had a baseball game on in front of them.

You let out a hearty laugh and shook your head.

"He keeps looking over here." Holly’s voice perked out, "Oh! He's getting up," Holly whispered, stalking him for a moment with her eyes.

You glanced over and felt your stomach twist in knots when he headed in their direction.

"So you are over twenty-one," Joel cracked a wide smile and tapped the back of her chair as he continued to walk by.

"Twenty-three," you called after him, smiling wide.

He glanced over his shoulder, winking once before continuing on around a corner toward the bathrooms.

You let out a sigh and Holly turned back around.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" her friend asked. Before you could attempt to plead your case Holly went on, "He's hot... and he's totally flirting with you."

"He's not flirting with me."

"That was a Frank Sinatra-worthy wink."

You shook your head, laughing again. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"You're glowin. You're crushing on this guy. Who cares if he's your neighbor. Get on that."

"He's forty-two," you lowered your voice.

Holly raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the doorway where Joel had just walked through before returning her attention to her friend.

"Forget it." You sipped your drink and tried to pretend like you were nterested in the game on the television.

"At least admit you're crushing."

She turned to her and shook her head, "Fine... he's hot. Okay?" You focused on the screen for as long as she could and tried to pretend not to notice when Joel rounded back into the bar. You let out a deep breath as he crossed behind you and felt a rush when he came up beside you to flag down the bartender.

"Another round?" the middle-aged bartender asked, already reaching for a beer.

"Please,” Joel said with a nod, "You can put it on the tab." He turned to you, "Any interest in playing darts over here?" He nodded toward a dart board in the corner.

"Sure."

"Don't feel obligated." He forced your eyes back to his and continued to stare into them.

"I don't." You felt that intense paralysis again and couldn't turn away. When the bartender came back with the round of beers for Joel, you felt relieved and let out a breath.

"Get these two what they want," Joel added to the bartender, "Next round's on me when you finish those."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"It's fine. I owe you one from last night." He headed back to the small table with his friends and Holly finally snapped you out of your daze.

"I thought you just gave him butter," she whispered with a giggle, "What was last night?"

You swallowed hard and rose to your feet, prompting Holly to do the same. "I offered him a beer and he took it," she said, "It was nothing... believe me. If I had anything interesting to share I would tell you."

Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the dark bar that was scattered with only a handful of other people. While the two other men began collecting darts and erasing the chalkboard to the side, Joel stood staring with his elbow on the table. For a moment everything else was in the background and you could only focus on him.

Shit... Any wit she had going for her had betrayed her. The instant, intense attraction you had to him was completely clouding your judgment. You felt like you were about to enter a wolf den, though you didn't at all mind playing the part of Little Red Riding Hood.

The anxiety-ridden feeling you had had leading up to the game of darts diminished as the night went on. You played a few games, swapping teammates several times, beginning with a 'boys versus girls' theme and then pairing off randomly when one game ended.

"He's going to fuck it up, you watch," Joel taunted as his friend lined up, closing one eye as he released the dart, only sending it clunking off the board and to the ground. "You didn't even hit the fuckin' board." His words drew laughter from everyone and the man that missed stumbled to retrieve it, chuckling as he went.

"I'm fucked up," Skip, the older robust man, remarked as he struggled to pick the dark up from the floor.

"Ya think?" Joel joked, continuing to sip on his beer.

"It's about time I get this man home to his wife and let her deal with him," the other man, Charlie, chuckled from behind a pair of alcohol-induced crimson cheeks. "Can't hold his liquor."

Skip huffed a breath and closed his eyes with a hand on his head. "The old lady's going to be mad at me. Especially when I tell her we've been hanging out with these lovely ladies." He motioned to you and Holly, laughing at himself and making the others do the same.

"I'd leave that part out if you knew what was good for ya," Charlie informed him with another laugh. "Come on Skippy. It's past your bed time."

"Game over?" Holly asked you.

"I guess so." You raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Charlie, you guys to get home?" Joel asked.

"It's just a quarter mile down the road," Charlie waved a hand. He smiled, "Good night ladies."

"Goodnight," you both said at the same time before Holly turned to you.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Be right back." She raised her eyebrows, noting it would give you and Joel a moment alone and you tried to play it off coolly.

"Okay." She watched a moment as Holly made her way down the bar and around the corner.

"Hope I didn't kill your girls night," Joel said.

"No." You turned back to him and leaned an elbow on the table, "We were just bored. Had to get out of the house."

"Mmm..." He slid back down into a seat and you took upon herself to join him as you waited for Holly.

Joel leaned both elbows on the table to straddle his beer, "You're probably used to night clubs filled with young guys just dying to buy you a drink. This has to be fuckin' lame."

"I was over that scene by my junior year," you told him with a laugh as you shook your head. "They were all the same with their cheesy cologne and gelled up hair."

Joel huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "Sick of that shit huh?"

"Very." You mirrored his position and continued to sip on the beer you had been milking for the better part of an hour, "I'm kind of over the party scene... and the being at home scene."

"You've been home for one fuckin' day." He raised his eyebrows, "Get over it. You're saving money."

You nodded, "Yeah... yeah you're right."

"I know I am." He smiled, a charming arrogance radiating out of him.

When your phone buzzed in your pocket you jumped and quickly removed it, finding a text message from Holly.

I'm getting in my car. Snuck out the back. Have fun. You'll thank me later.

When you looked back up Joel was grilling you with his eyes. You wondered if he had managed to read the message or not. You cleared her throat. "Holly," you said simply.

"You guys need to go?"

You opened her mouth to speak, still unsure if he had seen what your friend wrote but decided to chance it and lie. "She... got sick. She's on her way home."

"She okay?"

You nodded. “Just a little embarrassed I think and decided to go." You took a sip to buy yourself some time in case he asked any more questions. When he didn't you tried to change the subject. "This place is dead."

"What's so bad about the college scene?" Joel asked.

"Huh?"

"The young guys, the night clubs..."

"Oh... nothing, I guess." You cleared her throat feeling like he was trying to read your mind. Again, your face felt flush with heat and you continued, "They're just... all the same. There's no appeal anymore. When I was eighteen I thought it was cool sneaking into bars and all that." You smiled and shook her head before looking him in the eye. "This is more my speed."

Joel stared back and didn't immediately say anything.

You almost couldn't take the quiet stalemate. The sexual attraction for Joel burned in your chest and in that moment, in the quiet corner of the bar, it was hard to fight it. All the same, you felt like you had to be reading his body language correctly in assuming he was feeling something too. Still, the fact that he was your older neighbor, who you didn't know very well, lingered in the back of your mind.

Getting involved with Joel would satisfy your instant craving for him but beyond that you knew it could only lead to making both of your lives more complicated.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you told him, when you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. It was the only thing you could say without leaping across the table and initiating a make-out session that played out animalistically in your mind.

"You gunna disappear on me too?" he joked, though you could see there was a hint of seriousness in his piercing eyes behind the wicked smile that hadn't left his face all evening.

"Not a chance." You felt embarrassed by the bold nature of your words, but took a deep breath and made the long walk across the bar into the restroom area. When you pushed open the door you felt relieved that no one else was in there and quickly made your way to the sink to pat some water on her face. You let out a breath, leaning both of her hands on the counter and then took in your appearance to make sure you was satisfied with the way you looked.

I'm being ridiculous, you thought. I'm too old to feel this out of control over a guy... or a man.

Joel was a man. He wasn't at all like the college boys you had been surrounded by who loved to crush beer cans on their heads, brag about how many consecutive beer pong games they'd won and worst of all when they threw the cheesiest lines at you and your friends to try to get laid. Joel didn't have to say or do anything in particular. He could simply look at you the right way and you found yourself ready to obey any request or demand he threw your way.

I’m in over my head, you thought, but I don't care.

You took in another deep breath and felt like you had the quick break that you needed to hold a sensible conversation with him without the constant interference of your out-of-whack hormones.

"Okay," you whispered to yourself and fiddled with your hair before pulling the door open to head back into the short, dark hallway. When Joel rounded the corner at the same time from the bar both of you stopped abruptly.

His eyes stalked the length of your body before finally re-settling on your gaze.

"Checking to make sure I didn't bail?" you joked, nervously laughing just after. Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but look him up and down the way he had just done to you.

Joel swallowed hard, tipping his mouth up into a half-smirk before walking past the men's room door in your direction.

You didn't have time to process all of the questions in your mind because he marched up and planted his lips against yours, immediately penetrating them with his tongue as his hands successfully shoved you up against the door to the women's room. It opened a few inches beneath the force.

You felt an explosion of adrenaline filter through your body as you kissed him back even more savagely than in your daydreams.

Joel pushed the door all the way open with one hand, not separating himself from you as he gripped your ass with his free hand and pushed his hips firmly against yours.

You tangled a hand in his hair, kissing him back with a heated passion that you didn't bother to try masking now that he had initiated the fantasy that had been playing out in your mind since you had him.

He moaned into your mouth before taking a breath and crushing his lips back against yours. Your back collided with the tile wall at the back of the bathroom, and you arched your neck as he began to ravage you, sliding a hand down the front of your pants while gripping your face with the other to kiss you hard again.

It all was happening so fast. You struggled to keep up but couldn't process a conscious thought when his first two fingers slid inside of you.

You bit down on your lip in a break in the kiss and spread your legs wider to give him more access.

Joel left a single kiss on her lips and spoke against them in a husky whisper, "Let it out honey," he kissed you again, "Let it out."

You knew the bar was nearly empty and there wasn't another woman that had been there. Even if there had been you didn't know that you would have cared. When his fingers twitched, arcing perfectly in his technique to make your entire lower body shiver with pleasure, you groaned.

"Fuck Joel," your whined his name, desperate for his tongue to dominate your again as he continued to finger you relentlessly until you felt like you were going to explode.

Joel's arousal heightened when he traced your lips with his thumb of his free hand, prompting you to take the tip of it into your mouth.

"God," he closed his eyes relished in the feeling, pushing his fingers deeper into you.

You whimpered again, writhing beneath his touch and attempted to reach for the belt buckle on his pants. "I want you."

He removed his hand from beneath your slick panties and placed his hands against the wall on either side of you as you managed to undo his buckle and shove his pants down off his hips.

Instinctively, you dropped to your knees, taking in as much of him as you could. Joel moaned and bucked his hips once as he grasped the back of your head with one hand. You looked up, watching his head fall back as his closed eyes pressed shut tighter. Joel allowed you to have your way with him as you continued to go down on him like you might never get another opportunity to do so. "Fuuucckk." He drew the word out, encouraging you to continue as he grabbed a fist full of your hair. "Ohh shit..."

Had anybody walked by the door there would have been no way to mask what was going on. Joel didn't hold back and felt an additional jolt of pleasure when you stroked him with your hand before quietly demanding him to come.

He opened his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he glanced down, making eye contact with you as you engulfed him again.

"Jesus..." Joel's eyes closed and he felt an unmistakable buildup brewing below his waist. He couldn't ask you to stop, not when he was on the verge of exploding. "I'm gunna come." He shouted the words so loud that you thought for sure that someone had to have heard your encounter from somewhere in the bar. Still, you didn't let up and allowed him to push deep into you, gripping the back of your head with such force that you couldn't have separated your mouth from him if you tried.

He groaned, not attempting to hold back what he was feeling, alternating different curse words in between uneven breaths that ultimately left him panting as you finished him off. With a final breath he released your hair, letting his hand drop toward your face as you wiped a hand across your mouth and slowly rose to your feet.

Joel stood there for several seconds, breathing heavy with his pants at his ankles and a hand still on your face. When he finally came down off the high enough to speak, a chuckle left his mouth and ran a hand through your now-messy hair. "Shit honey... you didn't get yours." He let out another breath and then retrieved his pants from the floor and straightened out his appearance.

"It's alright," you told him with a sly smile, noting the heat that was still brewing between your legs.

He huffed another breath and adjusted himself over his pants before regaining your gaze. Joel smiled and drew his thumb gently under your eye, "Mascara's running. Sorry honey."

You closed her eyes as he continued to wipe the stray makeup away from your face. When you reopened them, Joel sported a half grin and he raised his eyebrows.

"Guess I fuckin' owe ya one."

You snickered, pleased to know that he wasn't at all expecting this to be your only encounter. "Yeah... you do."

Joel took a final, deep breath. "Well... you know where to find me."

"Next door."

"If you see me outside come on over to... borrow some butter or something.”

"Butter..." You snickered and then swallowed hard when he took a step toward her and slid a hand back down the front of your pants.

Joel touched his lips to yours as he spoke and this time gently began to massage up and down your wet center. When your mouth twisted up in a smile and you closed your eyes again he grinned and removed his glistening fingers. "It's a shame this is going to go to waste. Too bad you're so damn good at giving a blowjob. I had all the intentions of fucking you but I could just not ask you to stop.”

"Damn," she said quietly, but smiled, praying he might have it in him to continue.

Joel smiled, reading the disappointment on her face. "I'll be in and out tomorrow," he claimed, "You see me and you feel like bringing me over some butter…”

"I think you’ll definitely need some."

He looked down and made his way to the sink to wash his hands before turning to her with a smile. He ended the night the same way he had the night before, "I'll see ya around."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

[animasola86]

😈 FORK-TONGUED LOVER

m!demon x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 7.1k

Your boyfriend is a demon, and while you're not quite sure how that came to be, you are all in now - as he is all into you, literally, using his demonic powers to stretch your body to its limits until he can poke at your soul, eager to devour it (and you) whole.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Manipulation! Somnophilia! Oral/vaginal/anal sex. Cockwarming! Deepthroating! Deep penetration! Overstimulation! Ceiling sex? (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "demons, manipulation, anal play", and of course I couldn't leave it at that. By the way, this demon doesn't have a name, so you can imagine any character here if you want, in their monster AU of course!

Your boyfriend is a demon. What kind of demon you have no idea, he never told you, and it also kind of doesn't matter. He looks very normal (very hot in your eyes, with that beautiful jawline and those broad shoulders and his muscular but also lean body, so strong and tall, with bulging veins snaking under his tight skin, up and down his arms and legs and over his toned abdomen... uh, where were you going with this? Ah, right, he looks normal...), he also acts pretty normal, like a human would. He's kind and caring to you, but also doesn't shy away from taking your hand and leading you through a crowd, taking control. He makes you feel safe and seen and slightly spoiled.

The first time you realized he might be a little different, was another one of those instances when he took control. In the bedroom. It wasn't even really your first time with him, but that night will always stick in your memory, because it was the first of many amazing love-making sessions that left you so fucked-out you barely remembered your own name. The thing that makes him special is that he can manipulate his body, namely his cock.

When he's balls deep in your fluttering cunt, he can make it bigger, give it ridges and nubs, form it in a way that fills you out completely, that always stimulates all those special spots, leaving you absolutely senseless (in the overstimulated way) and more than satisfied. Best sex you've ever had (at least before you met him because he kept surprising you with new features to his cock every time he penetrated you anew).

He also coerced you to try anal, and even though you weren't one hundred percent convinced about it, he made sure you were ready. You see, his tongue is another great feature about him. When he talked or ate or laughed or even kissed, it was a normal tongue, but when he wanted to use it against you, it became a forked one, long and girthy, a muscle capable of many things, especially diving deep into your yearning holes.

Nobody has ever eaten you out so thoroughly, so deeply before, it's a glorious experience that made you use the Lord's name in vain one too many times (and each time he'd punish you for it, the little hell child that he is, making sure you'd scream his name instead while he bullied your most sensitive areas, relishing in the way your pussy clamped down on his tongue when he spanked your soft ass). Maybe that was why he liked to lick and probe you from behind, seeing your reddened cheeks did something to him.

You were a little apprehensive at first, having him so close to areas nobody's breached before (and that you thought were a little unflattering, to say the least), but he reassured you that he loves every single inch of you and is willing to show you just how much. And then his tongue pressed into your ass, and you forgot to breathe as shame flooded your senses, only to then be replaced by something you can only call madness. Because it drove you mad, in the best way, how he plunged between your tight muscles, how his strong hands held you open for him, how his grunts and groans vibrated through you.

Next thing you knew, he had slipped his cock into your prepared depths, and you'd thought it would hurt with how big he normally was (or could make himself even bigger), but instead of you molding to him, he had molded to what available space you were giving him. And it was a strange sensation. He was filling you out, still stretching your hole and the muscles beyond, but this time he'd made himself longer, thinner, and it kept going, invading your insides like a snake looking for a way out.

You felt your belly bulging, and the first time you saw him rearranging your guts (in the most literal way possible), you were very concerned, your hands swatting at the moving thing beneath your skin, but he only held you tighter, pressed you to his chest, and snapped his hips against your rear, distracting you with hard thrusts that felt so good you forgot about whatever happened inside your body. He was all that mattered, he and his beautiful demonic penis.

And you grew to like anal sex just as much because he really (actually) knew your body inside and out, always making sure you'll get the best experience by allowing him to merge his body with yours. You were thrown from one orgasm to the next, and most of the time the night ended with you passing out from overstimulation (but always with a smile on your face). And sometimes, the night didn't end at all as he kept going even when you were asleep.

He didn't sleep, didn't need to apparently, so he just lay with you in bed and watched you. Sometimes he would read or scroll on his phone, or he'd meditate to the sounds of your soft breaths (and snores). But eventually he'd grow bored, and he'd use you and whatever hole he was keen on invading that night. That man (demon) had stamina, it was insane. That was one of the reasons why you allowed him to do to you whatever he wanted while you were trying to catch some Z's.

The first time you woke up to him tongue deep in your wet cunt had been a little strange, but not completely unpleasant. He'd even asked you if it was okay (after telling you he had to taste you, you looked too delicious, he couldn't stop himself), and you agreed. How could you not. And so he continued to use your sleeping form for his pleasure (and yours, it definitely made for some fabulous(ly) wet dreams).

And you'd think you'd be utterly sore afterwards, but he somehow made sure your muscles were soft and relaxed, no matter how often they'd clench around his appendages. His massages were incredible, be it with his big hands and long fingers, or with his tongue, he just knew how to get rid of those knots (and bruises, though if those were visible to the public eye, he'd usually leave them, making sure everyone knew what you were up to and who you belonged to).

You were his, and you loved it, but at the same time, he was yours too, and whatever you wanted to do, he'd do it with you. He even came to one of those pottery courses you'd wanted to try out or watched that lame romance movie with you. And he never complained, because he knew, once you were back at your shared apartment, you would repay the favor (even though it never felt like that) by giving him something back.

And this is how you ended up on the couch, him lounging with his arm draped over the backrest (while the other hand rubbed over your bare rear), you curled up beside him, small fingers massaging his balls while you tried to fit his cock into your mouth. Sometimes he wanted to challenge you and kept it the way it was, long and girthy, and you'd end up choking with only half of him able to fit while his tip poked at the back of your throat, but most of the time he was more accommodating and made himself a little easier to handle.

He liked your feverish attempts to try to deepthroat him (even though you were never able to hold him for long before retching something awful) as much as your happy little mewls when you managed to fit all of his magically reduced length into your mouth, bulging your cheeks, while your nose nestled in his pubic hair. Tonight, you and him were watching a movie, some mindless action fling he was really into while you'd rather gag on his cock. Though you quickly relaxed on his lap and decided to just cockwarm him while enjoying his warmth and the probing of his fingers.

He always had to touch you, even in public, and it didn't stop at the innocent hand holding you were so fond of. He'd slip his long fingers under your skirt and rub and poke at your drenched underwear, and the moment nobody was looking, he'd dip them into your ready heat, most of the time resulting in you dragging him to a nearby restroom to thoroughly continue this endeavor, but sometimes he'd fingerfuck you right there, either sitting in a booth in your favorite diner or while standing in line for something (and somehow nobody ever noticed your red face or strained noises or the way his hand disappeared under your clothes, no matter how close you were to other people).

He was a master at manipulation, not just his body to fit your needs or to coax you into things you'd never tried before, everything around him seemed to bend to his will – if he wanted to. People moving out of the way when he'd walk with you through crowded streets, waitresses forgetting to charge you for your food, waving you off with a dumb little smile and unseeing eyes (one time you went back there alone and tried to give them the money he cheated out of them, but they couldn't even remember you), and other instances where he played with his surroundings just for the fun of it.

You didn't know how old he was (he looked somewhere between his mid-twenties and mid-thirties, probably depending on what you were in the mood for), and you didn't know much about demons (and somehow you never questioned his existence in the first place), but you would assume he's been around for a while, because it was so easy for him to puppeteer the humans and manipulate the world around him.

Most of the time you didn't mind, he wasn't cruel or condescending, didn't play pranks on people (at least not unjustified), but he'd make people trip when they've done something mean to others, he'd sometimes even help those in need, but those instances were rare and only if he was in a really good mood. He was a demon after all, not an angel.

And he was your demon, devoted to your well-being like no other boyfriend had been before. Not that you had a lot of experience, but you knew this was different, special, and it wasn't just the sex. The whole package. He was perfect, and if he'd ask you to come to hell with him, you wouldn't even hesitate. As long as he stayed with you, always connected, by holding hands or by being buried to the hilt in your cunt or by invading your body in a way nothing else has done before.

How did you meet? You're not too sure, actually, he may have wormed his way into your life on his terms, but you're not mad. You've never felt this loved and appreciated, this happy and satisfied. He may be a puppet master, moving you in ways you may not have initially wanted at first, but as much as he pushes you out of your comfort zone, he stretches it, makes it bigger, includes himself in it (on both a metaphysical as well as a literally physical way). He is a part of you, made a home in your body and in your soul, you became one, and it's everything you ever dreamed of (even though you could never imagine it).

Back on the couch, you're still suckling on his cock, lazily palming his throbbing balls, eyes closed and relaxing, while the TV spews loud action noises through the living room. His fingers are buried in your clenching ass, just resting there, occasionally pumping into your tense muscles a little, reminding you that he's still there. You give him a deep suck in response, and he lets out a content growl.

As you look up from under your lashes, you notice that his eyes are completely black, not just the iris, the entire eye. It's a clear sign for you that he's on the brink of losing his patience, his restraint, the need to ravish you pulsing through him. You shift a little and change position, so you can bob your head. Slowly you start moving, your lips straining around his girth, and as you do, you feel his cock growing.

He's made it smaller to accommodate your mouth, but now he's back to his normal size, maybe even bigger, certainly longer, as you struggle to get all of him somehow stimulated. Your hands are both around his shaft, pushing his tight skin over his hardened core as you suckle hard on his tip, flicking your tongue around and against his slit, tasting those precious pearls of precum, and you try to push him deeper, but as soon as he nudges against the back of your throat, your body convulses and spit fills your mouth.

You lean back with a deep gasp, and it's then that his hands find your head. One hand curls around your neck, the touch is warm, almost scorching, but it relaxes your tight muscles, and his other hand slips into your hair until he grips it in his fist, and when you lean back down to try to deepthroat him again, he pushes your head down, and before you know it you feel your neck bulging against his hand. Panic crashes through you, but he holds you there, soothes your throat from the outside while simultaneously pressing you down with his inhuman strength.

Your lungs are burning, your eyes rolling back, but you don't fight it, you let him do whatever feels right to him, because you trust him not to hurt you. It does hurt though when he starts bucking his hips up and slides his cock deeper into your throat, the fit barely possible you think through all the cotton in your head. He doesn't care, holding you as he fucks your face with quickening thrusts. Wet gurgling sounds echo in your ringing ears, and you have no idea why you haven't fainted yet.

There's a steady warmth rushing through your body as he keeps pumping his definitely elongated cock down your throat, filling you up in ways that don't feel natural. He groans quietly as he holds your head, using you for the hole that you are for him in that moment, and all you can do is take it, endure. You feel frozen in time, barely able to struggle even though the need to breathe becomes bigger and bigger. Luckily you don't gag anymore, how could you in your bound position.

Tears fall from your lashes, your jaw is slack, and a steady stream of drool drips past your swollen lips. And he keeps assaulting your throat, your neck never not bulging with how his cock moves up and down, finding space where there shouldn't be any. You're drowsy, lightheaded, drifting towards unconsciousness, but he never lets you fall over. Instead he doubles his efforts, his hips slamming against your face, his hands tight around your neck and in your hair.

And then, with a low growl that sounds as otherworldly as his cock feels in your throat, he stills deep inside you, your nose buried in his pubic hair, twitching balls pressed to your lips, and you can feel how his cum pulses through his shaft before it spews into your throat, spurt after spurt, sliding down into your stomach without restraint, warm and filling, oh so filling. The wish to taste him comes over you, and he seems to read your mind and slowly pulls back, lifting your head, his hand on your jaw now as he massages it gently.

Your eyes flutter open, and you have them fixed on the long appendage slipping out of your mouth, widening with every emerging inch. It keeps going and going, and when his cockhead finally pops out from between your lips, it still shoots thick ropes of cum onto your face and chin. The first thing you do as your airways are finally freed again is not to take rapid gulps of air, but stare at how his cock morphs back into its original form, still long but not as long, and a bit girthier, the mushroom tip red and glistening, more globs of his spend gathering in his slit.

The sight is mesmerizing, and before you know it, your lips strain around him and lick up those shiny pearls, his taste flooding your mouth, soothing the slight ache you feel as you swallow every single drop. He's eased his grip on your hair and is now caressing you gently as you clean him up, sucking the last remnants of spend out of him as if you've never tasted anything better (spoiler alert: you haven't). Once you're done, you collapse on his lower stomach, breathing deeply, your body coming to terms with the strenuous experience.

Your hands close around his softening dick, and you cuddle it to your warm cheek, giving it a gentle kiss. A low rumble goes through him as he chuckles at that. He keeps stroking your hair, his other hand moving back along your spine to rub between your ass cheeks. You sigh contently when two of his fingers press against your sphincter and inside you, the pressure a welcome change to having your throat filled like this. Closing your eyes, you let him finger you as you snuggle against his groin, small fingers tracing along the veins on his shaft.

He lets you relax a little more, but when you're close to drifting off to sleep, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and grabs your waist, and before you know it, you're lying on your back, legs spread wide as he settles between them. His eyes are still all black, and you shiver at the sight. There's always hunger in the way he looks at you, be it now or when you share an innocent moment on your commute to work, he can never hide the fact that he wants to eat you up.

And how he eats you up. Holding your hooded gaze, he leans in and plants soft kisses on your fluttering belly before he moves lower, licking his tongue down your mound, until he leans back and lets you watch how the normal pink muscle turns a deeper red, gets longer and thicker and then forks at the end of it. You've been rightfully scared the first time you've seen that, but as soon as he dipped that strange thing between your folds, you didn't care about its shape any longer.

And you don't care now, except for how it makes you feel. He laps along your seam, slowly parting your folds with a deliberate press of his forked tongue, before he closes his lips around your swollen clit, sucking hard with his tongue nudging at your entrance. The way he moves his mouth fascinates you, he seems to be at all the right places all at once, and all you can do is lean back into the soft couch cushions and let him have at it.

While you mewl and moan as he dips deeper, pressing the eager muscle between your tense ones, he lets out low grunts and groans that vibrate through you, further pushing you towards the edge. Your body is buzzing, and you reach out your hands to slip your fingers into his hair, grabbing a few fistfuls as you buck your hips against his face.

Under your palms, you can feel the little bumps on his head where you know he hides his horns. You've only seen them a couple of times, large and curved and pointy, and after your initial shock, you'd tried to use them as handle bars once – which he quickly prevented, telling you they were too sensitive to be grabbed like that (you were disappointed at first but then realized he was afraid of the strength you sometimes developed during your coupling, and you couldn't blame him, you did break a headboard with your tight grip before, though that wasn't entirely your fault with how brutally he'd hammered into you at that time). You still rub the heels of your hands against the little protrusions. He hums into you at the sensation.

His tongue is buried deep inside you, rubbing at your gummy walls, poking at those special spots, teasing all the way to your cervix (you're sure he's even poked into your womb at some point, but details are all hazy when you're writhing in nothing but bliss at the feeling). You are floating, back arched, hips stuttering, mouth wide open as you moan out his name over and over again. He keeps tonguing your clenching cunt while also teasing your clit, and you know he could do better, but he likes to edge you, keep you in that state where you're too far gone to protest but still nowhere near the realm where you'll forget your own name.

As he huffs and puffs against your sex, eating you up like a man starved, his big hands slip up your body to then close around your breasts. Gentle gropes turn into bruising grips until your hard nipples poke into his palms, and every little touch nudges you a little bit higher. You're wailing now, so sensitive, so needy, and it's that point where he slips his forked tongue out of your core and really sucks on your clit, that long muscle circling your swollen nub and pulling on it, coaxing more breathless cries out of your throat.

Your hands fall from his hair, clawing at the couch instead as you arch and buck against him, your body starting to twitch uncontrollably, and then, finally, with a hard suck to that sensitive bundle of nerves and a tight pinch to your nipples, he throws you over the edge. You come with a wailing scream, body spasming, thighs trembling, toes curling, all air sucked into your burning lungs as the lights explode all around you. He keeps licking at your throbbing clit, hands rubbing over your quivering breasts, his own grunts sending additional shock waves through your core.

He lets you down easy, lapping at the wetness seeping out of your clenching cunt, before he presses a lingering kiss to your inner thigh. Then he leans back on his haunches, watching you, his eyes seemingly even darker, as if feeding off your juices has made him even hungrier, even hornier, and by the look of his cock, he is indeed very aroused. It's bobbing against his lower stomach, standing proud and tall, thick veins bulging under the tight skin.

The sight pulls you from the aftermath of your orgasm, and you sit up slowly, hands reaching out, but he grabs your wrists in his large hand and pushes you back down, hovering over you as he stares down. You struggle in his hold, whimpering quietly, needily gyrating your hips beneath him as you feel his heavy erection on your stomach, so large and warm and already twitching. The only thought in your cloudy head is: I need him inside of me, and you know he wants this too, but he finds equal fun in playing around with you first.

So you wait, more or less patiently, as he watches you silently, his large black eyes boring into your soul, a little smirk playing around his lips. You lick your own, knowing the sight will drive him mad. And indeed it does, when he finally moves, smashing his mouth to yours for a searing kiss that quickly makes your head spin. He licks at the seam of your lips, and you part them, inviting his tongue in, and as it slips into your mouth, you feel it changing, getting longer and bigger, the two thinner ends teasing at the back of your throat.

You let out muffled moans as you try to meet his tongue with your own, and he sucks on it eagerly while still exploring every inch of your mouth. You taste yourself on him, and it only makes you salivate more as you think about where this tongue has been before. It's a messy kiss, hungry and passionate. You struggle beneath him, but his grip on your wrists is unrelenting, his weight on you grounding you, but the feel of his hard cock pressing into your soft belly turns your need into an urge.

His free hand is on your chin, lifting it up while his lips are still suctioned to yours, his tongue probing deeper, and when you feel the telltale sensation of having to gag, he pushes into your throat. Your vision blurs, lungs burn, body convulsing against him, but he keeps going, ignores the spit gathering in your mouth, just drives his tongue deeper down your throat, the muscle not as hard and girthy as his cock, but it's still an invasion you weren't ready for.

He starts moving it back and forth, and the pressure and friction feels like too much. You can't breathe, all you can do is gurgle helplessly. As your eyelids flutter and you look at him (without really seeing him with how badly the black spots dance before your eyes), he presses his lips firmer against yours as if to soothe you, while his tongue slides up and down your esophagus. You feel his hand closing around your neck, applying gentle pressure, the warm sensation making it all a little easier.

But just when you lean into the experience of having your throat tongue-fucked, he pulls back again, his tongue retreating and changing back into a normal size, before he peppers you with soft kisses as you slowly regain control over your breathing. His hum is low against your cheek, and despite the saliva dripping past your swollen lips, you find yourself smiling at him. He kisses your drool away, following the trail down your chin and to your neck, where you feel him nibbling on your fluttering pulse.

He's not a biter, luckily, even though his canines are a little pointier than normal human teeth. Yet he only uses them to tease you, and that he does as he scrapes them along your throat, his warm breaths coaxing a thick layer of goosebumps onto your exposed skin. When he starts working a hickey into your neck, he moves his arms around you and slowly lifts you up. Your freed hands are tingling, but you quickly place them to the nape of his neck to hold yourself up.

Pressing you to his chest, he pulls you into a standing position, before he tilts his body back, and you feel how your feet leave the soft carpet beneath you. Immediately your heart starts racing, and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip on his neck. He's done this a few times before, always surprising you, but you've thought he would stop doing it after you told him you didn't like it too much. You open your mouth to protest, staring at him, but he only grins, holding you against him as a sudden jerk goes through his body.

And then you find yourself pressed to the ceiling, desperately clinging to him as you squeeze your eyes shut. Without even seeing how far away the ground is, you can feel the vertigo crashing through your stomach. You have a horrible fear of heights, and he knows it, and yet he pushes you out of your comfort zone yet again. A little wail escapes you as he slowly pries your arms away from his neck. His hands move along them gently, spreading them, until he pins you to the ceiling by your wrists in an almost T-pose. You don't even know how he's able to reach his arms so far (he is also levitating, but that doesn't strike you as weird anymore).

If you'd be upside down, you'd be lying on your back with your arms spread and your legs wrapped around his waist, with him hovering over you, holding your wrists tightly. But you're not lying, you're pressed to the ceiling by a strange force emanating from your boyfriend, who basically hangs off you like the demon that he is. Despite the horroresque idea of him crawling along the walls and ceiling like a man-sized bug, you are too aroused right now to think about it.

He leans down (no, up) to plant soft kisses along your jaw, and you start grinding your hips into him, trying to forget the horrible sensation of hanging upside down (you're not upside down, per se, but with your hair falling over your face it sure feels like it). A sudden squeak escapes you when he lets go of your wrists, and you fear the worst, awaiting the inevitable fall, but you remain glued to the ceiling, even without him holding you up. Whatever force he is using, it's strong, and despite staring down now with your eyes wide open, you feel a little more relaxed, trusting him not to hurt you.

His hands move along your body before he carefully pries your legs off his waist, keeping them spread wide (and they'd follow gravity down if it weren't for the force holding them up) as he maneuvers his bobbing cock towards your ready sex. His black eyes are on you as he rolls his hips, his hands finding your face to keep your hair out of it, and you feel his tip pressing against your entrance before you let him in surprisingly easily, the stretch still coaxing a soft moan out of your throat. He keeps nudging his pelvis into you, slowly sinking deeper until he bottoms out completely.

He's not manipulated his cock this time, it's his normal length and girth, shaft smooth except for the bulging veins rubbing against your walls, and you don't complain, he's still way bigger than any man you had before him (not that you had many, but it's enough to make the comparison). Focusing on how he fills you out, you close your eyes and try to ignore your strange position on the ceiling. You feel him leaning in, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, distracting you as best he can as gravity makes your head spin until you don't know what's up and what's down anymore.

You focus on him, on his gentle caresses, the way he moves his hips back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm, getting you adjusted to his size, but when you feel something curling around your ankle, your eyes fly open. He gives you an innocent smirk, but you already know what's going to happen. Behind him, his tail rises up, a long black appendage that ends in a little upside down heart-shaped tip. With his hands holding your face and his knees pressed to either side of your torso as he pumps his pelvis into you, the tail seems to have a mind of its own (well, it's his mind, but it feels like a third party with how unpredictable it moves).

It slithers up your leg, sending additional shivers down your spine. You're already on the brink with how his cock pushes in and out of your eagerly clenching cunt, mewling and moaning with every thrust, but when you feel that sneaky appendage poking at your sphincter, you almost choke on your own spit. He slows his pumping then, watching you closely, and you wish you could hold onto him, touch him, ground yourself against him, but you're still forced into that spread-eagle position on the ceiling, held by this unseen force, unable to connect – or even protest when his tail suddenly parts your tight muscles and slips into your ass.

All you can do is cry out, eyelids fluttering as he invades yet another part of your body. The heart-shaped tip wriggles its way deeper, carving its way into your tense depths, before it settles inside you while he resumes the constant pounding of his hips. Your head is spinning, not just from your high position and the vertigo assaulting your senses, but from how he plays you with his body parts. Cock sliding in and out, back and forth, rubbing along all the right spots, filling you out perfectly. Tail poking deep, undulating into you while also holding you in place, impaled like a dummy on a ventriloquist's hand.

It's as if you're dreaming, floating (quite literally) at the edge of sanity and pleasure, pushed and pulled without being able to do anything against it. And you love it. Before you met him, you were always anxious, overthinking everything, worrying your little head off. But then he introduced you to this realm of bliss, the head-empty-feeling that made everything so much easier. All you can think about now is him and how he uses you, how he drives his cock and tail into you without mercy, chasing his own orgasm as well as forcing you to feel these incredible sensations that fill your head with cotton.

There's this warmth building up inside you, the telltale sign of your impending orgasm, and you whine and wail under his motions, desperate to be led towards the edge and pushed over, desperate to fly. He watches you as you start to lose it, and his hands move to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, a bruising but comforting grip, and suddenly you're being pulled away from the ceiling, the hard surface you were pushed against is gone, and you are flying, held in the air, impaled by his tail, with his cock still pistoning in and out of you fast and hard, your whole body moving, arms and legs hanging limply, swinging with every deep thrust.

The vertigo grows into that whirlwind of sensations, and you may or may not be turned around, angled this way and that, you couldn't tell, your eyes are closed, and all you can do is feel. Like floating, like burning up from inside, like being filled and stretched. The noises of skin slapping against skin and those traitorously wet squelching sounds dim around you as the air gets heavier. You can barely breathe, your heart is that low thudding noise in the back of your head, your body shivering, lips twitching, and then you come, hard, with a disembodied scream that fills the room and sets the cotton in your head on fire.

He holds you as you spasm, those waves of pleasure burning through your nerves, and you barely register how he pounds into you faster, how his tail slips deeper, pushing against your limits, how he growls into the black void you find yourself in. Then his arms are around you, pressing you to his warm chest, and he gives you that final thrust, burying himself as deep as he can go, as his cock twitches and throbs, and with another low growl that sends goosebumps over your sweat-slick skin, he shoots his load into your convulsing depths, filling you out in a way that shouldn't be possible.

It's so warm, burning you up from the inside, spreading through your body, lulling your overstimulated senses. You're a puppet in his arms, still impaled by his tail as he slowly moves you down – until your curling toes brush against the carpet again. Gently he settles you on the couch, but your head is still spinning, and it's only when he lies down heavily on top of you, pushing you deeper into the cushions, that you regain control over your limbs. Inhaling sharply, your eyes flutter open, and you meet his warm gaze, his eyes no longer black, and his smile is soft – wildly contradicting the way his tail is still moving inside your ass.

But you don't mind. Your shaking hands move up his sides before you hold onto his broad shoulders, feeling his warm skin. Your touch is clammy while he didn't seem to have shed a single bead of sweat despite the airborne acrobatics. An amused little giggle escapes you, and he watches you curiously before he leans his head onto the cushion beside yours, his lips brushing against your cheek. You turn towards him, smiling softly. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours, his tongue persistently pushing between your lips, slowly easing back into needing to touch you and fill you at all times.

As if his tail in your ass and his cock in your overflowing cunt wouldn't be enough.

It's one of the perks of having a demon as your boyfriend. You're never alone (never empty), he's always there for you, even when you have to suffer through those long hours of redundant labor. He'll make sure you can feel him inside you no matter what, even if he's miles away, waiting for you. Be it through those touches you can feel but not see, those phantom caresses he's able to give you, or by stuffing you full of his cum before you have to leave for work, the constant drip into your underwear a gentle reminder of what awaits you once you get home.

You've never been as sex-obsessed as you are now, he certainly opened a few gates you are unable to pass through again or even attempt to close. You're past that. Why would you want to stop those desires either? They are a part of you the same way he is a part of you and you are a part of him. He never officially bargained for your soul, and he didn't have to, you gave it up willingly, to be with him, forever.

Squished into the couch under his weight, you keep kissing him hungrily, slowly fighting your way out of the bliss-induced haze he put you in. He's still on top of you, heavy inside you, his seed slowly dripping from your clenching cunt. There's a strange pressure when his tail forces its way out of your ass, and you know it's slowly retreating back into his body, as he returns to his more or less human form. He always turns back after successfully satisfying his and your needs, almost as if making you believe he never changed in the first place, and him showing you his true self was only a figment of your orgasm-riddled imagination.

But you know better, and it may have scared you at first, but now you can't get enough of all those extra features. You know for sure you could never have sex with another human again, it wouldn't be the same, because only he can meet all your special needs, fill you out perfectly, whatever orifice he desires most in that moment. Just the thought of his magically elongated cock pressing deep into your throat makes you shiver, and the idea of the same cock filling every possible inch of your cunt and further, stimulating every sensitive spot with its enhancements, makes you gasp against his lips.

He is all you can think about. You may be moved by invisible strings, guided into things you never knew you needed, but you don't complain. You want them, and you want him. And you'd die if he ever decided to dislodge his claws from you, if he ever let you go.

Feeling a sudden sadness gripping your insides, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him harder. He strokes your cheek and leans back, his eyes scanning your flushed face. A single tear rolls out of the corner of your eye, and he traces its movement before he leans down and licks it up gently. A shudder and a sob crash through you, your fingers digging into his hair, holding onto him tightly, desperately. His lips move along your jaw until he presses a soft kiss to your earlobe.

His voice is a low hum in your head as he whispers: “No need to be sad, pumpkin. You are mine, and you always will be. There's no escaping me. We are bound by body, soul and... blood...”

A stifled moan escapes you as you turn your head to the side and offer your neck to him. He's never bitten you before, but you know, deep down, like a long forgotten instinct, like a thought he planted into your brain, that it will be the last ritual to properly chain you to him – and him to you. And you want it.

His teeth sink into your soft skin, a sudden cold creeping through your veins, your body twitching slightly beneath him. And as he laps up the blood spilling from your neck, he holds you tightly, his hips rocking gently into yours, reigniting the fire burning within you as you feel his cock expanding inside you, filling you out, further pushing your limits. You can only issue weakened gasps, your mind slipping, a soft smile playing around your swollen lips.

He seals your wound with a gentle kiss, inhaling deeply as he nuzzles your neck, your pulse fluttering against him, and then he starts moving his hips, slow and steady thrusts that bounce you on the couch. Your eyes are hooded, but you can barely see him above you. All you can make out is a black shadow, filling your vision, as he grows on top (and inside) of you, the tail is back to tease your twitching limbs, his horns slip from his skull, brushing against your fingers fisting his hair, his whole body seems to vibrate as he assumes his true demonic form that he's never fully shown you.

And even now you can't appreciate it with how he hammers his cock into you, holds you in his embrace. Your mind is spinning, filled and yet empty, while his low growls mix with your little mewls. He is all around you, inside and out, devouring you whole. And you're here for it. All of it. He could drag you into the lowest circle of hell and you'd just cling to him, unwilling to let go, his to carry around, his to play with. His little puppet, the small human he chose to be his mate.

The soft swish of his wings barely registers as he lifts you into the air again, fucking your body and soul with reckless abandon, taking you to heights (and depths) you've never seen before, stretching you and your comfort zone further and further, invading spaces he shouldn't be able to penetrate. But you are his, every inch of you, every nook and cranny is there for him to fill.

And while he does just that with persistent thrusts of his large cock, you feel your heart swelling as well, beating hard in your heaving chest, beating only for him. Your boyfriend is a demon, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[outoftheseine]

- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS PART 2 -

forever in love with this grumpy old man <3 | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. most of these fics are age-gap relationship and some have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part 1 | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

love in the middle of a fireflight | part 2 | part 3 • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @babydin

your bear | part 2 • joel miller x daughter!reader

↳ by @rrickgrrimes8 (very angsty, hurt/comfort)

a helping hand • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @teacupcollector

a lover's pinch • prof!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @hier--soir (smut, au, angst, secret relationship)

i will be home for christmas • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @punkshort (no outbreak, fluff, smut, angst but happy ending, hurt/comfort)

lavender • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @justagalwhowrites

seeing you, seeing me • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @amywritesthings (slow burn, smut)

fate, after all • joel miller x f!oc!reader

↳ by @honeyedmiller (fluff, smut, no-outbreak)

ambush | part 2 • joel miller x reader

↳ by @huntergarrity (angst, violence, hurt/comfort)

seams • joel miller x reader

↳ by @fuckyeahdindjarin (self-conscious!joel, shy!reader, fluff, slow burn, explicit)

soft!joel collection • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @cavillscurls (smut, fluff, angst, soft and domestic!joel)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

daisy, give me an answer • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @dilf-din (fluff)

take this moment • joel miller x reader

↳ by @mylostloversbookmarks (post-outbreak, fluff)

ground me • joel miller x reader

↳ by @huntergarrity (fluff, comfort)

clouded judgement/clear mind • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bluebeary-jay (violence, angst, hurt/comfort)

keep your eyes on me • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @mgparker (angst, violence, protective!joel)

daydreams • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @morning-star-joy (grumpy x sunshine, fluff)

i hope you are happy • joel miller x reader

↳ by @blissfulbarbie (very angsty, no outbreak)

grays • joel miller x reader

↳ by @softlyspector (domestic fluff, insecure!joel)

sweet creature • dad!joel miller x reader

↳ by @rocketrhap3000 (so fluffy)

lacy • joel miller x reader

↳ by @toxic-seduction (angst but happy ending)

bloodshed, crimson clover • joel miller x fem!doctor!reader

↳ by @morning-star-joy (slow burn, angst, violence)

arms tonite • joel miller x reader

↳ by @motherjoel (angst, reader gets hurt, happy ending)

skater • joel miller x platonic!gn!reader

↳ by @rrickgrrimes8 (angst, hurt/comfort, father figure!joel, tw: drowning)

be my daddy • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bastardmandennis (no outbreak, smut, fluff, slightly angsty)

how the cookie crumbles • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @egcdeath (no outbreak, fake dating, slow burn, slight angst, fluff, idiots in love)

day after tomorrow • joel miller x reader

↳ by @familyvideostevie (no outbreak, fluff)

it’s your turn for choosing • joel miller x reader

↳ by @familyvideostevie (modern au, fluff)

i’m a feminist obviously • joel miller x reader

↳ by @toxic-seduction (protective!joel, violence)

softness • post outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @joelsgreys (fluff, joel is a dad, tw: premature birth)

as long as i have you • jackson era!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @beskarandblasters (very fluffy, slight angst)

sweetheart • post-outbreak!joel millet x fem!reader

↳ by @joels-shitty-puns (fluff, light angst)

are you mine? • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @eupheme (protective and soft!joel, fluff, light angst)

a forever thing • husband!joel miller x pregnant!wife!reader

↳ by @honeyedmiller (fluff)

the revenant wife • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @pettyprocrastination

butterfly • joel miller x black!latina!reader

↳ by @stargirlfics (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, slow burn)

unlikely friends • joel miller x reader

↳ by @sweetercalypso (fluff)

mischief nights • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @jupiter-soups (fluff, slight angst)

all my casualties of love • joel miller x reader/oc

↳ by @agentmarcuspike (smut, grief)

a matter of timing • joel miller x baker!fem!reader

↳ by @lavenderursa (angst, smut, comfort, neighbours to lovers)

[moonbeamoclock]

Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

[nobitchs-world]

Me someone says they like bfd fics

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: ​​Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS– 

So, um, chat, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

plum

a/n: instead of writing this story as one single long fic (because I am working on too many extremely long fics and series already), I decided to simply chop every moment into little blurbs or shorter fics and gradually share it that way. also, this is a pretty dark fic. i didn’t expect to dive into all of the stuff i did, but turned out that i was ready to work on some traumas and work them into this… didn’t expect it, but it just felt natural, especially with a story as special to me as the last of us, so i just rolled with it.

warnings: Joel Miller x reader, MILD SPOILERS for the last of us (both games and the hbo series), DARK content, prior noncon, slow burn, age gap (20 years), violence, heavy angst, ptsd, timeline wise this is set in between the first and second game (so when they live in jackson), former firefly!reader, explicit sexual content

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THE REPRISED EDITION

ORIGINAL CHAPTERS:

yeah, I know her

you’re home

why do you call her that?

we square?

hold my hand for a little bit?

the library

you don’t know me

neutral third party

I don’t know where to start

how long have you been sitting out here?

big dipper

only push me away if you really don’t want this

what if I don’t wanna be patient?

sunrise

complicated chords

why do you wanna keep us a secret?

Joel, I’m fine, it’s just a fever

it would be so mean to just leave me like this

i’ve got you

you deserve dibs

numb

incapable of thinking with anything but your fists

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[davosmymaster]

Home

TAGS AND WARNINGS - Hurt/comfort, panic attack, family issues, abusive family, racism (against Joel and Sarah), mentions of stalking (if you squint), Joel is definitely Latino, potentially triggering if you have suffered from an abusive household, self-degradation, “Mexican” as a slur, Christmas celebration and religion. Reader is 28. Because of the plot both reader and family are implied to be white/not black or latino.

PAIRINGS - Joel Miller x fem!reader (Pre-outbreak! Joel)

WORD COUNT - 3.2k

SUMMARY - Coming back “home” to your family for Christmas is always a dangerous move. The goal was simple: survive through the night. Joel comes to the rescue when the mission becomes unbearable.

Home

There is a warmth in your chest as you close the door to your childhood room. Out of the bubble you have now created for yourself beyond those four walls, there's a dad sitting in front of the tv and a mom putting the finishing touches to Christmas dinner. Your brother is somewhere out there, too. And all you can think of is how the warmth in your chest becomes white lightning, a fire going up and down through your sternum; and your closed-up throat unwilling to welcome any more air into your lungs.

'What's wrong?' you ask yourself in your mind; as if you didn't already have the answer for that. All is fine, all is well. And yet the fire doesn't stop despite the lack of oxygen in your lungs, and the trembling in your hands becomes somehow more erratic.

'What's wrong?' The voice in your head is unforgiving. Sarcastic. Insulting, even. 'Nothing's wrong. You know damn well that's the problem.'

Your breathing comes out laboured. Somehow the autopilot has failed, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing; it seems that your body is no longer interested in keeping you alive. Let alone sane.

As if sent by God themselves, the flip phone in your handbag rings. The melody fills the room from where you left your things an hour ago and your knees crawl there, unable to hold your own weight. Back hits the mattress, and your form becomes a boneless bundle of anxiety against it, on the floor. Your shaky hands look for the phone inside your bag; and you pick it up on its last ring.

You hear a relieved breath on the other side, and yours immediately follows. His voice comes out low, a drop of worry staining it inevitably like blood on a white shirt.

"It's me," he says. And you want to respond 'Of course it's you, who else would call me at this hour on Christmas eve?' "Just wanted to check how everything is going."

Words don't come out of your mouth. You just bend into yourself a little more, feeling extremely cold all of a sudden. The trembling is gone. Although it has left remnants behind, a trail of weakness in your very soul, your breathing still in manual mode. Slow. Lungs aching.

"Darlin'..." Joel whispers.

You can almost picture him bent over his yellow kitchen counter. One hand is pressing the phone against his ear, his elbow supporting his weight. The other is against his chest as if trying to comfort himself with half a hug. The crease between his dropped eyebrows is deep. Concern flows from his voice like a river after it's rained. You want to massage the fine lines on his forehead, press your own hand against his patchy beard; and kiss the worry away.

The words you prepare yourself to say are comforting, dismissive of your current situation; but they never leave your lips.

"I shouldn't be here," it's what flows from your mouth instead.

He takes a deep breath followed by a sigh, and you can perfectly picture him shutting his eyes tightly.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

He insists, but you don't have a different answer to offer. Truth is, nothing has happened; and that is something Joel Miller, your boyfriend, whose parents were always there for him both physically and emotionally when he and Tommy were growing up, will never understand.

He will never understand the silence in the room below, and how unsettling it is to patiently wait for the inevitable fight. He will never understand that the smell and sight of the house you grew up in bring memories deeply buried but burnt into your brain. He will never understand the unnerving rage that floods your nervous system whenever your family behaves like family; when they treat you nicely and kindly and it feels like they are mocking you somehow. Because you know how they are, and you know they are seconds away from dropping the masks and beginning the third world war as soon as you bring up the wrong topic; which seems to be any topic these days. But especially the fact that you're dating a divorced dad. And as if that wasn't enough, it bothers them, even more, knowing that said dad is of Latin descent, and his child, a black girl.

You don't understand why you're even there. Well, you know why you're there; because they drove three hours to pick you up even though you repeatedly told them that you could drive back home for Christmas. Because you had felt guilty —and sick— at the thought of one: saying no after that; and two: the anxiety a fight in front of Sarah's teacher would cause you.

How had they found out you were taking Sarah to school, or what school she attended? You had no idea.

"I'm sorry..." you whisper, suddenly guilty for being there; even though you know it's not your fault that they are manipulative and abusive and a complete fucking nightmare. It feels like you need to apologize to both of them, for still wanting and expecting your parents to change despite the awful things they think of Joel and Sarah.

"Hey... hey..." Joel speaks in a whisper, his heart pounding so hard it hurts. And you hear him walking somewhere; probably outside. He doesn't like Sarah listening to things she's not supposed to know about. "We both know it's not your fault they have their head so far up their asses."

There's no reason for you to break the way you do, but that doesn't stop your tears or your own shallow breath from making it to the other side of the line. A low grunt escapes your lips. The pain is raw, and feels new rather than just an uncomfortable scar. Your eyes scan the room and they find your purple walls, old notebooks, clothes in the open wardrobe and, suddenly, it feels like you're fifteen and so fucking helpless and exhausted and done.

"Darlin', come on..." he's begging. "Take deep breaths with me. C'mon..."

You close your eyes, so tightly that your very brain hurts, so tightly that you see bursts of fireworks behind your eyelids. That doesn't stop the tears from coming, but at least now there is a dark invisible barrier between you and that house that should be your home but isn't. And you take a deep breath with him, and let it out.

"Good. You're doing so good," he says, and it fills you with guilt that his voice sounds so scared. "One more... Yeah, there you go. One more baby girl... That's it," he keeps you from falling into the abyss of your mind, and you don't think you could ever repay the debt.

A comfortable silence settles between the both of you before he asks.

"Want me to go and pick you up?" he asks, with such a gentle voice you couldn't help but picture him as he talked to baby Sarah. He doesn't want to scare you or upset you in any way.

But you shake your head quickly and wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

"No," you respond. "It's so far away, and Christmas... and Sarah needs you."

"Sarah is perfectly fine here, and Christmas will last 'til morning. It's not even that late," he says. "...and you need me too," he insists. "It's not that far, anyway."

"It's a three-hour-long drive."

"For those old motherfuckers maybe. I can go back and forth in that same amount of time."

You sigh, loudly. The strength is leaving your body with any passing second, and you fear you will pass out on him while still on the call.

Almost as a threat, you hear your mother speaking in the living room.

"She's in her room?" she asks, and your heartbeat increases. It pounds heavily against your ribcage. The voice is muffled by the walls and stairs, but loud and clear as if she wanted you to hear. "Some things never change, do they? What a shame. A twenty-eight-year-old woman, hiding in her room from the parents that raised her... and put a roof over her head..."

Then, your brother laughs.

"Joel..." you say. With the tone that comes out of your shutting throat and your knees on the floor, his name in your mouth feels like a prayer. He winces on the other side of the line as if he could feel the stabbing pain in your heart. But that, you don't know. "Please hurry..."

"I will, baby," he says.

As soon as your words leave your mouth, you regret them. Almost screaming his name, he gets startled; asks what's wrong as if he feared the ceiling of your childhood bedroom collapsing on top of you. It certainly feels like it.

"Don't be so quick, though," you whisper, and immediately cringe at your own words. "I mean... Don't get yourself killed on the road. Please."

He blows a long sigh, directly into his phone.

"Je-sus... Christ," he could almost laugh at the relief. "I won't. Keep your phone at hand."

"Thank you, baby."

Before either of you has even hung up the phone, the door to your room bursts open. Your brother is standing there, with that sly grin that you wish you could beat out of him without him killing you first; but which, at the same time, terrifies you to the point of absurdity.

He leans his head, covered by a baseball cap, towards the hallway.

"She's talking to the Mexican!"

A different kind of rage fills your veins, but even before you have the chance to say or do anything; you're defeated by your own dread. You wait for him to say something else, to reveal your new plan for Christmas; but he just stands there squinting in your direction. He seems confused by your puffy red eyes and your sitting position on the floor; rather than concerned for your teary face as an actual brother should be.

Your mother speaks, then. A loud cry comes from the first floor. Exaggerated. Malicious.

"Oh dear lord," she sobs. "What did we do to deserve this? And on Christmas Eve. Can we not have one peaceful Christmas?"

"Dinner's ready," your brother says. And slams the door.

[***]

For almost two hours you eat up your father's complaints about hypothetical broken hinges and your mother's cries about being the worst possible mother ever. Your brother seems the only person eating dinner in peace, and you're almost jealous of how unbothered he appears to be.

At some point the conversation redirects towards Joel, you don't know exactly when or why, but your father says his name as if Joel had anything to do with whatever he was talking about. You try to defend him, but end up with both of them somehow offended because you called them racists and they-are-not-racist and Mexicans-take-our-jobs and no matter how many times you tell them he's not Mexican, they don't seem to care.

How you manage not to have another panic attack, that you don't know.

The doorbell rings throughout the house, as if announcing the apocalypse. Your brother stands with his fork halfway out of his mouth, and your heart races as you look toward both of your parents. You see their mind going a mile a second, wondering if their complaints have been loud enough for the neighbors to call the police. Until shaking like a leaf, you get up from the table without having eaten a single bite, get your handbag and head to the front door.

Everything else is a blur, even if nothing special happened, even if they just let you go without a single word. Somehow, silence is even worse than what you were expecting. Next thing you know, you're in Joel's truck heading back to Austin and he's holding your hand.

Just the sight of him calms your nerves enough to wake up from the trance. He's rubbing small circles on the back of your limp hand. He manages to drive with one single hand on the steering wheel, but he clenches his fist so much around it that you can see his knuckles turning white.

He turns for a split second to look at you, and his gaze softens. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he squeezes gently.

"There you are, gorgeous," he says, his voice being the only thing you can hear. He takes a deep breath, and you know he's trying very hard not to pull over and squeeze you against his chest until your atoms and his merge together. "We're going home now, baby. It's okay."

The sentence feels like a kick in the gut, but he's right; you're going home now. The force of the blow is so hard that you physically flinch, and fat round tears come back to your cheeks.

You wished it was different. You wished they were different. You wished you could call their house your home and those people your family, but they hardly have earned the title of acquaintances. It doesn't matter that you're their flesh and blood; they haven't treated you as such. Through the four of you flows the same blood, but what does that matter when they seem to break your own heart with every word they pronounce?

You don't even realize how or when, but the truck is standing on the side of the road. Joel gets out and walks to where you are, and your arms fling themselves over his broad shoulders as soon as he swings the door open. He buries his nose in your hair, breathing in your own presence and squeezing his fingers on your waist as if he could get your body any closer to his. When your touch falters, he takes his chance to grab your cheeks and kiss you.

The kiss tastes like salt from your own tears, but that doesn't stop him in the slightest. He wants to kiss you harder than his own body is capable of. He daydreams of becoming the prince in those Disney movies Sarah loved as a child. All so he can erase all your pain with a single kiss, wake you up from the terrible nightmare with just his presence, his love and care. He knows that's not possible, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

His tongue gently licks yours. He revels in the kiss, his knees almost buckling up as if he was a teenager all over again. Before he lets go, he nibbles at your lower lip. And it's not until then, when his hips accidentally brush your inner thigh, that he notices how hard he actually is.

You gasp, and your lips form a perfect 'oh" against his mouth. Your eyes are closed, and he holds his breath at how drugged up he feels. He breathes your exhale and now it is pooling at the bottom of his lungs, making a home there. Unmoving. Strange to his system but somehow still welcomed. He presses his lips against the pulse point on your neck, feels the swollen vein there and flattens his tongue against the warm skin. Just the soft moan coming from your lips makes his boring existence worth it.

And then he bites. Softly. So soft that he barely feels his own teeth against your flesh. It still makes you jump.

"Joel!" you whisper, and the following second he's smiling as he draws a path of kisses back to your cheek. "Ugh... stop"

The air he's been holding finally comes out of his system with a long sigh. Both his hands are hugging your cheeks as his lips approach your forehead and gift you a kiss there.

"I won't let anyone mistreat you this way again," he says. He's all eyes closed and heart on his sleeve. Even if he was usually affectionate, he had never once before been so open before. The ghost of his ex-wife still haunts his nightmares and threatens him to end the same way with you if he let himself go. "I wish I met you before... maybe I could've been there and..."

"Joel," you stop his ramblings. Those words he's saying are not even directed at you anymore. He's lost in his own thoughts, in his own pain. "Joel you couldn't have done anything. This had to happen sooner or later."

Finally, he lets go, but still keeps you close enough to bury your head in his chest if you need it.

"Look at you..." he says. "Comforting me when it is you who needs comfort now. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like to be there all those years. I would've lost my fucking mind."

With teary eyes, you look into those gentle brown eyes he carries. They look at you with so much pain already, such a heavy backpack full of sorrow for you on his back, that you feel bad to answer.

"I did. I did lose my fucking mind. Not having a home does that to a person."

Maybe it is because he doesn't want to cry in front of you, not now that you're so tender around the edges, at least; but he brings you back into his arms and a few tears well his eyes.

"Let me be your home," he finally whispers against your hair. "I will always be your home, somewhere you can always go to and depend on. Sarah and I will be your home. You don't have to keep looking anywhere else..."

The wound in your chest cannot be mended, that you already know. Yet Joel's words feel like a balm on the open wound. The promise sounds heaven-sent, too good to be true. It also feels threatening somehow. The breaking of that promise, if you agreed to it, would mean completely losing any hope remaining in your body, any strength to keep fighting. Trusting is so difficult and love so complicated when fate seems so random. Yet this is what living is like, isn't it? What is life if not a continuous gamble we play in the hope of achieving a little happiness?

His eyes are fixed on yours, trying to read the thoughts coming non-stop to your mind. But in the end, there's nothing left to consider. Before you could even make the conscious decision, your mind, even if broken and dazed, had already performed the biggest proof of care you were capable of. You had stood against your parents for Joel and Sarah, something you had never been able to do before. Not in all seriousness, at least; not as far as showing them that you were capable of walking out of their house without their permission.

You loved them, and they loved you the way a true family should love. Joel loved you in a way you had never thought possible, and Sarah considered you, in all aspects, her true mother. Their home was always open for you. Always welcome. The only scream anyone would hear could only come from the tv or the radio. The arms were always open, the coffee always boiling hot, and the favors didn't need to be asked for. Love wasn't traded, but simply given.

"You two have always been my true home," you finally conceded, right into his incredulous and love-struck eyes. "Will you forgive me for forgetting?"

"Oh, babygirl..." he whispers, a smile dancing on his lips as he presses his forehead against yours, and his hands slowly warm your cheeks. His nose gently brushes yours. "There's no need to apologize. I will never get tired of reminding you."

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter sixteen | chapter fifteen | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

word count: 4987

a/n: Hi guys, so sorry about not updating here for a while! I promise I'll continue posting Orange Slices chapter updates here, I just completely forgot to post chapter 17. Not to be annoying, but if you are interested in staying in touch with me/my other works/story updates (including fororange slices), I am now mainly on @urbancowboyjoel now. Chapter 18 is still in the works, explanation is at the end of the chapter hehe.

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

@pocket-macnchz

Chapter Seventeen

“Come to me in the silence of the night; come in the sparkling silence of a dream.” -Christina Rossetti

The moonlight streams in through the small window in the kitchen, offering a comforting presence in the midst of your sudden onset of insomnia. After the day you had, all the lifting and moving, you should be tired; you should be exhausted. However, after tossing and turning for hours while your mind raced with thoughts about James and Joel and Nessa and your impending return to patrol and past memories, of your hometown and how things used to be, how much has changed within the past few years–your relentless thoughts refused to slow down no matter how much you tried to fight against them, so you forced yourself from the couch and took a seat at the kitchen table in the dark. 

Staring off into the dark abyss of where you just came from, you roll your neck, grimacing at the shooting pain at the base of your skull. Sleeping on the couch was not working out. Nothing good came out of it, just restless nights and daily body aches. Still, regardless of being in this house for a while, the reminisce of the lives that used to call this house their home still haunts you in one form or another. This place has yet to begin feeling like yours, and at this rate, you don’t think it ever will. 

The past few weeks have been nothing short of a blur, between the conversation you had with Joel and the myriad of drama surrounding you in Jackson, your mind has been rather preoccupied. 

After your eyes fully adjusted to the dark, you reached for the notebook at the center of the table. The clock mounted behind you on the wall in the kitchen, was loud in your ears, the mixture of tick-tocks and your heartbeat whooshing in your ear gave you a sense of unsettling nausea. 

You flipped to the next available blank page in the worn notebook, the moon casting a sliver of light across the table as if it was encouraging you to write about your troubles after witnessing your restless night for countless weeks. The eraser head hits the paper in between the ticks and tocks of the clock as you delve further into your thoughts. Where do I start? You ask yourself.

A few weeks ago, after returning from an uneventful patrol alongside Joel, you came across a post on the community information board in the town square. Charles posted a help wanted request for cleaning and setting up a library in one of the vacant buildings within the community. As soon as you saw his name signed at the bottom, you ripped it from the board and rushed to his house to volunteer your hand. A part of you felt saddened that he didn’t come to you and ask, considering he confided in you that one day he'd like to open a library here. Although, given the rocky state of things going on in your life, you understood why he didn’t ask to begin with. 

After going around to the different guards, asking for anyone to cover her spot with patrol, Tommy was the only one who stepped up while you and Charles began stripping the building, cleaning, and organizing the collection of books he’s hoarded over the years, were donated by members of the community, or were purposely scavenged from nearby.

Although you hated admitting this to yourself, it was nice getting a break from doing patrol. Setting up the library was the perfect distraction from everything going on, and spending time with Charles, someone who you looked up to for guidance and as a father figure, was the kind of presence your soul needed. 

That distraction only went so far though, at night your thoughts consistently kept you up into the wee hours of the morning. It had nearly become debilitating and you knew it was something you’d have to figure out sooner rather than later, particularly before you returned to your patrol duties. The main two culprits that haunted your thoughts were none other than Joel and James; Joel, mainly because you’ve been spending much less time with him than usual, and James for the fact that he’s been too involved in your life lately. 

Regardless of not going on patrol with Joel, you still see him nearly everyday. Usually the two of you eat dinner together, with him stopping by what will eventually become the library to see if you wanted to join him. Your answer was always yes with no hesitation on your end. After dinner, he'd walk you home, sometimes he’d stay for an hour or so, other times he’d retreat to his house to go to bed, telling you that the sleepless nights in the QZ and on the outside were catching up with him. At the end of each day, you always craved more from him.

Then there was James. Oh, James…

Ever since your confrontation out front of the stables about the little stunt he pulled that almost got you taken off of patrols, it seems as if James has been trying to do some intense damage control with you. He’s stopped by your house a handful of times that you know of. You’ve never opened the door, going completely still so as to not alert him of your presence, though he still takes it upon himself to profusely apologize through the door, pleading for you to talk to him. 

Through word of mouth, either from the other guards discussing your temporary leave or from Charles himself, James must’ve learned about you helping with the library because he began showing up between his patrols and other guard duties, claiming he just wants to see how things are coming along. 

These unexpected drop-ins put Charles in an awkward position; you knew it, James knew it—he came anyway. While you stealthily slipped into the back room to busy yourself, sometimes organizing piles of books you already organized days prior, other times just staring at the wall, Charles would take the initiative to entertain James with small talk. 

Every time James made his eventual departure, Charles would let out a loud heavy sigh, saying so much with no words. And after you’d mutter your half-assed apology as you emerged from the back room, he’d give you a look; one so full of disappointment and defeat. For the rest of the day, both of you would work in silence.

Charles never said anything beyond his sigh and the look he’d give you in regards to James. His body language was more than enough and he knew that. He knew the guilt that you feel and the conflicting anger you have towards James. After the last talk the two of you had, he’d given up and knew no matter what he said to you, no matter how much he tried to help, you wouldn’t listen anyway.

He knew you were a coward and had no plan of resolving things with James anytime soon.

A coward wishing their problem would disappear. 

You wished James would just disappear , because then you wouldn’t have to think about what you did to him that started this. And that made you feel guilty. 

Eventually, you knew you’d have to come face to face with James, knowing that he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The community is relatively small and people talk; in the long run it would be best to smooth things over, at least attempt to talk things out. Although, it just wasn’t something you could do right now. Not with your conflicting and complex feelings toward James—especially not when things were so God damned gray with Joel. 

The snapping of the lead of your pencil pulls you out of your mind consuming rant, suddenly becoming aware of your dark surroundings as you return to reality. You could feel the intense heat radiating off of your cheeks as you brought one palm up to your face. 

After staring at the paper for a few minutes, taking in the messy scribbles of words, you rip out the page in one swift motion, immediately crumpling it into a ball. The muscles in your forearm tensed as you squeezed the paper within your fist, making it smaller and more compact with each squeeze. The paper disappeared within the dark shadows of the kitchen when you chucked it across the table.

Your head began to spin, a buzzing sensation filling your skull and making you feel uneasy. Moving the hand on your cheek up to your forehead, you let out a sigh of frustration and close your eyes.

Joel. 

Such an intense and complex person. From the moment you sat across from him at that damned table at that abandoned cabin, you felt drawn to him. Something about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on made you feel understood and protected and at ease. When it was just the two of you, you could imagine what life would be like by his side, and it was something you so badly wanted to manifest into reality. He could be a complete asshole at times, but then there were other times when he was so vulnerable with you and he would laugh and you could see a glimmer of joy in his eyes that gave you a tiny glimpse of who he was before the outbreak happened. Weirdly enough, you wanted him just as much in his worst moments as you did in his best. To you, knowing that was enough. It was enough to understand what you felt for him.

James…

He was such a sweet and kind soul, always making you feel so normal, as if none of this outbreak bullshit ever happened. James felt things so purely and intensely, it almost made you envious that someone could experience life in such a way after losing so much.  From the beginning he treated you as an equal, he didn’t make you have to prove yourself like some of the others did, he didn’t see you as the weird girl who showed up with Tommy Miller and his misfit older brother. He treated you like a human being deserving of friendship, he stuck up for you, and on the late nights the two of you would spend together, he made you feel like you were something important to this world. While all those things may remain true, it doesn’t change how he treated Joel or what he did to you when his jealousy took over. Things could never go back to how they were after that.

Closing the front cover of the notebook and slipping the pencil into the spiral binding for safe keeping, you slide it back to the center of the table where you retrieved it from.

In the past, writing had helped you sort through your thoughts, it did when Joel left shortly after you arrived in Jackson and when memories of the past became too much to bear. It gave you a chance to dump everything without the judgment of others and many times you were able to either solve the core of the problem or come to some sort of decision on how to manage your feelings, but this time around…no matter how much you deliberated, how much you wrote, it just leaves you with a bigger headache than you started with. 

And this headache seemed to grow worse as the days went on. 

As your hand ran down the front of your face, you turned in your chair to look at the clock, squinting your eyes to make out the numbers and hand position in the dark. You raise your eyebrows when you realize it’s now past midnight, nearly an hour has passed and you have been completely lost in your thoughts this entire time. 

At this point the moonlight shifted, the sliver that previously caressed the table with a soft glow, was now leading you to the couch. 

Pressing your palms firmly against the smooth surface of the table, it takes you a second to push yourself up onto your feet as your eyes lock onto one of the many burn marks pulling you back into your daze. Joel did say I was welcome anytime, the words appear in your mind without any warning, maybe I can… With one hard, intentional blink, the thought disappeared.

Nothing good ever comes after midnight. On top of that, you aren't being rational right now, you’re sleep deprived and borderline delarius. Nothing good will come out of that, you whisper your words out loud. Sleep. That’s what you needed. That’s all you need right now. Not clarity, or confirmation, or him.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk the short distance from the table to the couch, nearly toppling over on the couch. All you wanted at the moment was to sleep. You desperately wanted a break from your racing thoughts that were now becoming tortuous. Before laying down, you punched the poor excuse of a pillow a few times before laying on your back, your hands resting just above your navel. As you close your eyes, you slow your breathing. 

Trying to trick your brain into sleeping, you count the seconds that pass in unison to the ticking clock. Flashing images of Joel kept distracting you, so when you finally reached six hundred after several failed attempts, you flipped onto your side with your face now facing the back of the couch. The rough fabric brushed the tip of your nose as you nuzzled your face into the cushion, the heat of your breathing warming your cold cheeks. 

Three hundred more seconds pass before you shoot up from the couch, the sudden movement making blood rush to your head, the already dark room becoming darker for a fraction of time. Your heart, for some reason that you don’t know why, is racing, thumping strongly within the confines of your chest.

Placing your hand over your heart, feeling the movement under the layers of skin, muscle, and bone, you approach the window in the living room, your steps slow almost as if you were afraid of getting caught. As you look out the window toward Joel’s house, you brace your hands on the windowsill, leaning into them to get a better look. His house at this time of the night was nothing more than a shadow, but you could recount every detail of it by memory. 

You began to gently chew on your bottom lip as a sudden calm came over.

Fuck it. 

Before you could process your decision or think of what the consequence might come from out of this, you were already halfway out the door, barefoot and still in your pajamas. Time seemed to slow as you walked across the empty street and up Joel’s pathway; the overgrown weeds tickling the bottom of your feet with each step. 

Knock, knock, knock.

The wooden door was hard against your knuckles, knocking hard enough so he would hear but wouldn’t be alarmingly loud either. 

For a brief moment, a sliver of consciousness washed over you, the only thing you could hear was your own ragged breaths as the adrenaline continued to rush through your veins and covered your body in a numbing sensation. What are you doing? Your eyebrows drew together. Looking over your shoulder you judged the distance between where you stood and where your front door was. If I leave now, perhaps I can make it back before he gets to the door. The longer you think on it, you realize the opportunity slipping through your fingers. 

The sound of creaking floorboards causes you to turn back toward Joel’s front door and straighten your posture, your chin tilting upward ever so slightly. Your fingers fiddle with each other as you wait for the door to open; on the other side of the barrier, you can hear Joel clear his throat and your heart stalls.

At first, he barely opens the door wide enough for his head to poke through. You take a second to scan his face; he looks confused, still half asleep, but God did he look handsome.

“Hey, um, ” your voice is soft, not quite sure what to say. You shift the weight between your feet as you continue to look at him.

After taking what seemed like forever to process your presence, Joel’s narrowed eyes quickly turn into concern and he opens the door wider revealing his entire body. “Is everything okay?” His voice was rough, laden with sleep. Your breathing hitches, leaving you unable to respond as you take him in before you. Your eyes glaze down from his concerned expression, to his chest hair and down his bare torso, to the top of the band of his blue boxer that looked as if they had been put on in a rush. Your core ignited with an intense heat, your heartbeat picking up in speed. 

You force yourself to swallow despite your throat feeling as if it were closing in on itself. “I can’t sleep…” You shook your head, keeping your eyes fixated on his. “I’m–I’m sorry to bother you so late.” Letting out a sigh you avert your gaze down to your feet. Looking at him was too much for you to handle right now. 

The sigh of relief escaping him made you slowly look back up at him, his shoulders relaxing. Without saying anything else, Joel opens the door completely, stepping aside to allow you to come in. You give him a shy smile in response, butterflies now going rampant in your stomach. 

You wait for Joel to take the lead, not sure what would happen from here. You knew what you wanted to happen, whether it was right or wrong. Perhaps he’d offer you the couch, simply a place to sleep for the night. That’s probably for the best. Or maybe the two of you would talk for a bit and then he’d send you on your way. Fuck, you’re an idiot, you thought, hating yourself now for not thinking this through. Joel had to get up for patrol in the morning and you thought it was a good idea to bother him for your own selfish reasons. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You dig your nails into your palms as a flash of heat runs through your body. 

Joel’s arm brushes up against yours as he passes, leading you further into his home and turning on lights as he goes. You have to force yourself not to look at him or the way his back muscles shift as he walks. Get a hold of yourself, you scold yourself and suck in some very much needed oxygen through your teeth. 

You take everything in as you walk further into his home, it’s been quite a while since you’ve been here. Between the pictures of wildlife to the half finished wood carvings, everything remains the same as you remember; perfectly lived in and a reflection of who Joel is at his core. 

The kitchen light flickers a few times when Joel flips the switch, damn light , his voice comes out as a low mumble. As the two of you approach the table, he pulls out one of the chairs gesturing for you to take a seat. You avoid his gaze, giving him a nod of gratitude before he rounded the corner of the table and headed toward the kitchen cabinets. 

“You want something to drink?” He asks as he grabs two glasses, the side clinking together as he sets them down on the countertop. “Liquor, fresh milk, water…” He only turns back to look at you once he finishes. 

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks though.” The last thing you need is alcohol, and you were sure that anything that went down would instantly be vomited back up given the fact that your stomach was in the most intense knots you have ever experienced. 

Joel stares at you for a second longer than usual before giving you a single nod, abandoning the glasses on the counter and taking a seat in the chair directly across from you. 

He clears his throat before asking, “Somethin’ botherin’ you?” His tone was genuine. You scoff quietly in response, if only I could tell you , you thought.

You didn’t respond immediately, staring off into the kitchen behind Joel and gathering your thoughts. “There’s…” You didn’t know how to respond or what to say. No, you couldn’t tell him. Or could you? “Yes, I just don’t know… I don’t” You cut yourself off, sucking in some air to challenge the suffocating feeling that manifested in your chest. 

“You don’t want to talk about it?” He says, not intending it as a question. Joel clasps his hands together, resting them on the table. Without looking at him, you slowly nod. “Nothin’ wrong with that.” 

Then a silence fell between the two of you. You didn’t know what else to say, you could barely look at him across the table from you and could feel his stare burning a hole into you. Guilt quickly washed over you and you slightly cringed to yourself before lifting your eyes up to Joel. His gaze was intently fixated on you, an intensity in his eyes you saw only a few times. 

Your lips part, your tongue wetting your dried out lips. “I’m sorry I woke you up for nothing,” Your voice was breathy and barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what to do, so…��� 

Joel immediately shook his head before you were even able to finish. “Don’t– no, don’t apologize.” You give him a pitiful smile, though his expression did not break. The two of you stare at each other for what seems like minutes, though in reality it was probably only a few seconds at most. 

“How’s the library comin’ along?” He changed the subject, which you were thankful for. “Sounds like a lot of people are excited for it.” Joel cocked his head. 

“Yeah, probably a dozen people stop by a day just to see when we’ll be done.” You say as you tuck your hands beneath your thighs. “Hardest part is just filling the shelves with books, more tedious than hard though.” Joel was listening with intent. “Tony brought us a ton of books from the run last week, so that was pretty huge. On top of that people have been dropping books off to donate.” 

“It’ll…it’ll be a good addition to Jackson.” Joel responds and you nod.

There was a pause in the conversation, a bit of awkwardness rising in the air. 

“How’s patrol going in my absence?” You inquire, changing the subject. 

Joel let out a low whisper as he adjusted himself in the chair. “Same ol’, same ol’. Don’t tell Tommy I said this, but it’s been nice spending some one on one time with him. It’s been a while since it’s just been us.” He says, a glimmer growing brighter in his eyes. A small smile appeared on his face. “Sort of like old times, when we’d go on fishin’ trips together.” 

You smile at the sentiment, before completely changing your expression. “ Mmmm,” you hum, causing Joel to look at you. His eyes narrow slightly in confusion. “Do I have to worry about you replacing me?” You jokingly narrow your eyes back at him, cocking your head to one side. 

Joel let out a boisterous laugh. “God no, never,” his response was quick with no hesitation. “I say that, but I can only take so much of him… ask me in a few more weeks and I’ll be beggin’ on my hands and knees for you to come back.” 

A smile appeared on your face again, “I won’t make you beg too hard.” Joel instantly locked eyes with you through his brow-line, your stomach jumping at the eye contact. 

“No?” He raised his eyebrow as he spoke, his voice dark but somewhat playful as he gave you a devious smile.

You were the first to drop your gaze, followed up by Joel clearing his throat. 

“Um…” You fill the silence, trying to think of how to converse after that moment. In your peripheral view, you see Joel reach his hand over the table, gesturing toward you. 

“I think about ya’.” His eyes dart around as you look at him, searching for some sort of reaction from you. Everything around you went eerily silent. You raise your eyebrows almost stunned by this confession. All you wanted to say was: You do? However, you waited for him to continue, to take the lead on whatever was about to be said. It seems as if your reaction was enough because Joel nodded. “When I’m doin’ patrol and you aren’t there, at night before I fall asleep,” as he went on, he refused to look at you. From his expression you couldn’t quite tell what his intent was telling you this. “I–I’m…” At this point his head is hanging low, his eyes fixated on the table; he shook his head. “I’ll be right back.” 

His tone was different than before, you sensed a bit of hesitation, perhaps embarrassment. You return with a curt nod, although he didn’t give you a second look before he left and headed toward the stairs. You remained seated at the table as you listened to the thumps of each step he took, and when things went silent, you raised out of the chair. What just happened? Joel’s confession almost seemed unreal, did you imagine that just now? You turned in a circle, your eyes tracking the walls as you spin. Am I dreaming? Your face now twisted in confusion. 

Walking out of the kitchen, you stand  at the bottom of the staircase for a moment looking up. Joel was nowhere in sight. You blow out the air you had been holding on to as you pad over to the living room, turning on the light. Bracing your hand on the threshold, you paused.

It was considerably messy compared to the other parts of the house. A blanket was lazily draped over the back of the couch, the guitar laid on it back on the ground as if he had been playing it and put it there to come back to later. Records were scattered on top of the coffee table, alongside a book laying face down open. 

As you approach the bookshelves on the back wall, you run your hand along the soft blanket and carefully step over the guitar. 

Reaching for a book that had a red-brown leather exterior with silver foil details on the side, your ears perk up when you hear Joel coming down the steps. You remain still, running your fingers over the spine before pulling it out. You hear the floorboards creak as Joel gets closer and closer to the living room, the louder his steps get, the weight in your chest gets heavier. You remain still, not turning toward the entrance to acknowledge his presence. 

Seconds seem to pass by in hours, until you feel his warmth behind you. “You can borrow it if you’d like.” His voice shook slightly as he spoke, your breathing becoming shallow. No words would leave your throat. 

Quickly, you turn to face him, your arm dropping to your side with the book still within your grasp. Joel took a single step toward you, closing the already little distance between your bodies. You brought your hand up to the middle of his chest, placing the palm of your hand flat against him; his heart was beating fast. Out of instinct, your body stiffens, your eyes softening as you lock onto his. 

As you tilt your chin upwards, Joel leans in, his eyelids fluttering as the two of you become closer to one another. Your eyes remain wide open as you relish the sight, total relief overcoming you at what was about to happen. Your tortuous thoughts from earlier completely disappear and burn in the fire that rose in the core of your pelvis. It was just you and Joel right now. Right now that's all that mattered to you. 

Just as his lips met yours, your eyes fluttered shut. Bursts of colors explode beneath your eyelids, and at some point the book slipped from your hands, landing with a dull thud. His hands were all over you now, one fisting at the back of your oversized night shirt, and the other gently caressing the side of your hip. Joel’s lips were soft, his movement a lot more gentle than you imagined on the many nights you couldn’t sleep. Yet, he was still passionate and the intensity made jolts of electricity rush through your body.

You quickly pull back from him, both of your hands holding loosely onto his biceps. He went to lean in again, but you pulled back again. “Tell me you want me to stay,” your voice is barely above a whisper, smooth and alluring. There was nothing more you wanted than this , what was happening right now. After that first dinner with Tommy and Joel, that was the turning point for you and ever since then that– Joel seemingly wanting it as much as you did–it was all you could think about whenever you were around him or when you’d see him at the bar, or across the community. 

Joel’s hands glided down your back before he clasped them together. His eyes shift off to the side before returning to you. You could tell he was contemplating, just like you had earlier; doing this…is it right or wrong? The way his hands press into your lower back told you that he wouldn't be able to resist you, not this time. 

His throat bobs as he looks into your eyes, his eyes softening and his lips parting. No words came out as he leaned into you, placing his forehead on yours. 

Joel nodded and whispers onto your lips, “Stay. ”

chapter eighteen coming soon! (I'm being so fr too, I'm just bad at writing smut and I want it to be perfect so bear with me)

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[bed-chemist]

❝i got the flavor that lasts❞

a/n: liv walks up to the stage. a random cough cuts through the otherwise silent crowd. she taps the mic, causing deafening feedback. “is this thing still on?” she asks, but no one laughs…

Chapter Summary: Chef Joel cooks up a Christmas surprise while the sweetest baker makes a terrifying discovery.

Chapter Warnings: language, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, panic attacks, side character in a relationship involving domestic violence (main character notices bruises and they have a conversation about it), smut, slight breeding kink if you squint, fluff, comfort, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 9k words ⋆ series masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

The day starts the same as any other. My first vibration-only alarm rumbles beneath my pillow, and I quickly shut it off. I grumble as I disconnect my limbs from Joel’s, reluctantly pulling myself out of bed. An invisible string yanks my body into the bathroom to prepare for the day. When I look over my shoulder, Joel shifts in the bed until his back faces me. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I process the ping of annoyance in my brain. If you drop a pin, I’m awake. But if you drop a house on Joel, he’d just readjust the foundation’s position.

I quickly prepare for the day, not showering to keep Joel’s scent on me. My curls are unruly, so I grab my spritz bottle and some leave-in conditioner to breathe life into it again. Once my curls look presentable, I grab a scrunchie to secure a half-up, half-down ponytail. When I pull my hair tight, my arms fall to my side.

The bright light above the mirror makes me squint when I look in. The only thing I see when I look back is my poodle-shaped hairstyle, and I snort. Shaking my head, I walk away from the mirror so I don't pick myself apart.

Slipping out of the bathroom, I tip-toe back to Joel, whose back is still towards me. His breathing remains slow as I sink into the mattress on my knees. I extend my body over him, reaching for my phone on the charger next to his head. His hot breath fans over my hand while I’m fumbling with the charger that won't let go of my phone.

A curse leaves my lips, and I drop my phone into the mattress, opting to forget about it when, just then, my second alarm starts going off. ‘Busy Woman’ by Sabrina Carpenter fills the room, causing Joel to jolt awake. His hard body collides with mine, sending me flying off the edge of the bed.

A shrill cry leaves echoes back to me off the walls when my butt nearly hits the floor, but Joel’s hands are already on me. He quickly pulls me to safety and back into him. My chest rises and falls quickly, out of breath from shock. “Do you know you’re the clumsiest person I’ve ever met?” Joel asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m working on it.” I flash a smile, and he returns it, flushing my cheeks. No matter how long we’ve known each other, he still causes a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. “Can you turn that off?” I ask, pointing to the loud noise that my phone is emitting.

He nods, hitting the button before returning his attention to me. The air between us is thick with sexual tension, and his eyes burn a smooth hole through my head. “What?” I ask, hoping he’ll speak first and let me off the hook.

His palms make contact with my upper thighs, causing me to freeze. He inches his way up to my hips until he’s gripping my waist deliciously. He lifts slightly before flipping us both until I’m on my back beneath him. “I love waking up with you,” he rasps, dipping his head down to pepper kisses on my face. I let out a light giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It’s different every time,” he murmurs with his lips on my cheek.

He pulls back slightly, allowing me to keep him close. “Me too,” I smile, attempting to sit up and give him a peck on the lips.

His head jerks back, and my brows knit on my head. He’s never actively dodged a kiss from me. Maybe it’s his morning breath, but I don’t care. I pull him down closer to close the gap, but he puts his hands on my forearms, disconnecting my hold on him.

A ping of worry hits my chest, and I’m already attempting to sit up more, but Joel blocks my way. “Let’s move in together,” he exclaims.

My breathing is restricted, and my mouth dries. My temples tighten, and energy moves from my head to my toes. “Joel,” I manage to squeak.

“We can stay here or at mine until we find a bigger place for all of us, but,” he starts.

My eyes blink rapidly, trying to shake myself out of the hyperfocus I’ve put on Joel’s dark silhouette this early morning. “You can’t be serious,” I scoff.

Joel’s face scrunches, almost as if my statement offended him. “Why not?” he questions.

I sigh, allowing my eyes to roll naturally. It’s far too early in the morning to converse like this with a man who excels in weaponizing his ignorance. “Firstly, it’s five thirty in the morning. Secondly, we’ve only been dating for a month. Third, we just had this conversation on Friday,” I put plainly.

“We’ve known each other for six,” I hear him counter while my eyes drill holes into the ceiling.

As if that makes things more acceptable. My eyes narrow at Joel’s, and I almost get lost swimming in his espresso-colored eyes. “Meeting someone and knowing them is different from dating someone.”

His fingers move a curl off my shoulder until my neck is fully exposed to him. His fingertips ghost over my pulse, drawing mindless lines into my skin. “It's not for me. Couldn't stop thinkin’ about you, Sugar,” he confesses.

I try not to let my disbelief in his words show, but I know my face is slipping. Although, he can’t expect me to be bubbly right now when the birds just started chirping outside. “You’re a liar,” I taunt.

“Serious as a heart attack. Every time Leo came in, I’d ask about you. Thought ‘bout you every steak I flipped,” he grunts, shifting closer to put his face in my neck. His scruff tickles my neck, and his morning face's rasp makes me smile. Leo never said anything about his meetings with Joel after my birthday, although I know they took place. “How could I forget the gorgeous woman who gave me my first one-star review,” he asks rhetorically, pressing a warm kiss to the pulse point he identified just moments ago.

He nips at my skin with his tongue following shortly after, warming the painfully delicious sensation. “You’re playing dirty,” I utter breathlessly.

He continues down my neck to my collarbone, looking up at me through his long lashes. “’m not playin’ at all. Would make me feel better if we moved in together,” he seduces.

My head tilts to the side, and I subconsciously run my hands through his curly locks. “What do you mean?”

“Knowing you’re safe and alive in our bed. I’ll finally be able to breathe,” Joel exhales against my chest. Then it clicks for me; he’s referencing our conversation from last night. Our heads faced each other under the Sunday moonlight as we engaged in the most profound pillow talk I’ve ever experienced. He told me about Sarah’s death, explaining that it was sudden. He hadn’t known she was struggling with depression before she took her life. When he found her he became inconsolable.

I cried so much Friday that I’m still dehydrated. The ten minutes after Joel opened up to me only made recovering now worse. I relate to him because I’ve been obsessed with my friends and family driving safely since my parent’s accident. Even though I know they were driving safely as they always were, sometimes freak accidents happen. It still doesn’t shake my uneasy feeling when I haven’t heard from a loved one in a while.

With Joel, he always needs to watch me fall asleep first. He doesn’t say it, but I know that’s why he sleeps so hard in the morning; a weight releases from his shoulders when I make it through the night. He always tells me to close my eyes, and I become exhausted when my head hits the pillow. I guess that’s the point; Joel’s request is connected to Sarah’s situation. At the moment, I’m unsure if moving in with him would ease his anxiety or offer him a crutch to not work through his issues.

After I cleaned myself up, we sat in the book nook and talked about our futures together. Joel told me that I was it for him. If things don’t work with me, there’s no one else he’d be willing to try with. He confessed he didn’t feel he could handle getting close to another person.

I knew I felt the same way, but a frog seemed to get caught in my throat at the time. He comforted me by telling me I didn’t need to say anything. My head just swayed to the side, fogging up the glass of the tiny corner of my room. I allowed him to usher me to bed shortly after, content with not pushing him towards sleeping either.

Suddenly, I want to run. I want to sprint far away from a life of comfort with Joel and Ellie. I want to throw the specimen of pure sex off my body and bolt. In my head, Maddie’s voice mutters, “Savor this moment. Do not let your urge to run ruin the love of your life asking you to move in.”

I assume Joel takes my frozen silence as a no, and he lifts his head, looking at me with hurt eyes. “Say you’ll move in with me, Sugar,” he half pleads. “’m gettin’ old, Sugar, and I want to start a life with you.”

A snort leaves my nose, and I slap his shoulder with amusement. “You’re not getting old. You’re only thirty-two,” I say through a fit of giggles.

“And if we start now, I’ll be fifty when our first kid graduates high school,” he deadpans.

More laughter slips through my lips to his apparent dismay. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you about this kind of stuff?” I question him. Typically, the woman comes to the man about getting too old.

His nose scrunches, and I search his face for the answer. “Is this about what El said last night?” I add.

Before we escaped to the seclusion of my bedroom last night, Ellie mentioned something about always wanting a sibling. The thought made my stomach churn, and I wasn’t quite sure where Joel stood before our deep conversation. Now, I’m wondering if her teenage words got to him.

He shakes his head, answering before his mouth can correct himself. “Well, yeah,” he bashfully looks away.

My hands slide up to his warm cheeks, bringing his attention back to me. “You seem conflicted,” I point out.

He sighs, looking over my shoulder at the electric clock on my nightstand. “You’re right, it’s early. Forget I asked,” he crawls off me, his disappointment emitted from his body. He slunks into the bathroom like a sad puppy, with the door smacking the pane when he slides it shut. A sigh leaves my lips, and I let my eyes float towards the ceiling.

This is not how I wanted to be: so guarded that I can’t let him in. I want to give myself to him because I subconsciously know he’ll keep me safe. But similarly to him, the last time I let someone in, they left me. While I’m prone to running, he’s prone to clinging.

I let my thoughts mull for a bit before sitting up fully. There’s not a sound decision I can come to without coffee, so I walk over to my keys. Sliding out to the hallway, I’m careful to creep past where Ellie’s still sleeping in the guest room. I realize my attempts are futile seconds later when Toph and Katara start crying through the door. When my head turns to look towards the door, their tiny paws claw underneath the seal to be let out for the morning.

As if my body is put in reverse, I slightly crack Ellie’s door, allowing the kittens their freedom. The fact that she’s still asleep gives me time to start their morning routine of breakfast and water, and I enjoy the moment of silence. It only takes me a few minutes to finish the tasks when Joel walks into the kitchen.

He silently slides past me, his face undetectable. He grabs his keys and wallet from the counter, sliding them into his back pockets. Tension fills the room as I stand on my toes to grab my travel mug from the cupboards. Once the pink mug is secured underneath my arm, I return to Joel. “Do you have time to go get coffee with me?”

He extends his arm to scratch the back of his neck. “Tommy wants to have a staff meeting before we open, but I’ll walk you out, Sugar,” he excuses himself.

I check the clock above the kitten’s food bowl, which they’re busy devouring. “At six am?” I ask, slightly calling out the lie.

He puts his hand on the small of my back, ushering me towards coat hooks. “Yes,” he answers curtly.

I don’t argue, watching him take my jacket off the hook. He methodically opens the garment, holding it out for me. I quickly slip into it, turning around to face him. “The restaurant opens at eleven…” I let my suspicion slip.

He glares at me, running a hand through his short curls. “Damn, Ginny. Are you tryin' to ruin the surprise?” he questions, seemingly frustrated.

My ears perk up. “What surprise? I don’t like surprises,” I inform him. The last surprise I got was when I was sixteen. I nearly had a heart attack then, so I have no faith in the outcome of Joel’s surprise.

He turns his back towards me, grabbing his jacket. “Your Christmas present,” he states, dejected, towards the wall.

A sigh of relief leaves my body. Not that I thought Joel was the cheating type; I just didn’t want to question my unwavering trust in him. “Oh, no, I wasn’t. What is it?” I try to coax him into telling me.

He looks over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “What do you want it to be?” he asks with a smirk.

I shrug, kicking my feet towards my shoes. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d care, as long as it’s from you,” I tell him honestly.

Stepping into the winter boots, I quickly sit on the bench to lace them up. Joel watches me struggle for one second, and he’s getting on the ground, lifting my calf in his hand. He props my foot into his knee, lacing the shoe methodically. “What do you need for Christmas, Sugar? What’s the one thing you’ve never had before?” he asks.

My bottom lip rolls between my teeth. The one thing I always needed was someone to share the romantic aspects of the holidays with. I always dreamed of wearing matching pajamas with my partner and watching Christmas movies together. I had a boyfriend years ago when my parents were alive, but he never wanted to do any of that stuff.

Joel is the first person who’s given me anything I ask of under the guise of making me happy. I’ve never experienced this much love for a person other than my mom and dad. My feelings seep through my pores, and I become antsy with my reply. “You,” I blurt, drunk on a love-induced haze.

He double knots the shoelace, pausing to check his work. “Well, you have me,” he points out. He puts my foot down, moving to the right one. But something seems to be itching at him.

Suddenly, Joel stops moving, and his eyes anchor on mine. Lightening strikes the space between us, and the universe places an impenetrable bubble. The silence doesn’t last more than a breath, but when Joel licks his lips, I’m nearly leaning into him with anticipation of a kiss.

The pads of his calloused fingers brush against the back of my calf, squeezing lightly. “I love you, Imogen Scott,” Joel voices confidently.

My heart rate quickens and my palms become sweaty, slipping as I grip the edge of the bench. “Joel,” I start before I’m cut off.

Joel shifts closer between my legs. “Let me finish ‘fore I lose my nerve. Throughout this whole thing, I’ve been unsure ‘bout myself. But I know damn well that I love you.” The strength in his voice sends a thrill through me.

I swallow hard, trying to steady myself. “You care ‘bout me, and Ellie. Hell, you even look out for Tommy,” he adds before I can respond. A soft chuckle escapes me; it’s the first sound I’ve made in a while. “You’re kind and talented. You smell like sunshine and flowers. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I had to know you,” he continues.

His words wrap around me like warm sunlight. “You treat Ellie like she’s your daughter; we’d be lost without you. I’ve been meanin’ to say this, but I can’t hold it back anymore. You’re the one I wanna spend the rest of my life with,” he finishes, leaving me momentarily speechless.

As his words settle in, tears well in my eyes, and an overwhelming joy washes over me. I gently take his face in my hands, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You don’t have to say nothin’ back,” he says softly, trying to calm me.

I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts together before I burst. “You don’t get to tell me how-how to react, Joel Miller, and right now, all I can think about is how much I-I love you. I love that you’re a leader and how analytical you are. I especially love how amazing of a father you are to Ellie. You care for me and her more than yourself. Your sacrifices don’t go unnoticed,” I stammer.

Joel’s smile is brighter than I’ve ever seen it before. His face is turning a beautiful shade of pink the longer we confess our love to each other. “I love how your brows furrow and the veins pop out in your arms when you're frustrated. You’re my best friend, and I’m pretty sure I’d starve without you. Not to mention the best sex I’ve ever had,” I joke at the end, and he chuckles.

I take a deep breath to speak more confidently. My nerves don’t subside, but I continue anyway. “I love how you make me feel special and wanted. You’re everything to me, Joel. Absolutely everything,” I emphasize at the end, hoping my words can convey how I feel for him.

He nods, and his hands slide up my thighs to pull me to the edge of the bench. “Come here, Sugar,” his arms snaking around my back. His lips crush mine so hard that our teeth click on each other. Neither of us cares, taking the time to let our tongues explore each other’s mouths. A rushing heat strikes my core, and I squirm in his hold. The taste of his tongue is so intoxicating that I have to keep myself from moaning.

My head tilts back, allowing him more access, and I lose myself in the kiss. Annoyingly, the voice in my head reminds me his daughter is right down the hall. We’re trying to leave for work soon, and now is not the time to have a quickie. I want us to take our time and relish in the ability to make love finally. But Joel’s dominance doesn’t relent, pressing me tighter into him. He swallows a mewl from me, and my body becomes sticky in the winter coat.

I break the kiss to breathe and cool the furnace blazing between us. I let out a breathy laugh, and my thoughts begin to wander. I’ve never felt so relieved now that he knows how I feel about him. My thumb ghosts over his plump pink bottom lip, and he kisses the pad.

Now that we’ve said the fateful three words to each other, I feel more at ease with the thought of us living together. There’s only been a handful of times since we had sex the first time that we haven’t stayed the night with each other. My schedule practically revolves around Ellie’s, so we might as well blend our lives thoroughly.

“I’ll think about us moving in together, but only after the holidays,” I say firmly.

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he murmurs, returning to lace up my boot as if he hadn’t just shared something significant. I take in the muscles of his body, noting what I’ll tell him I love later.

He finishes lacing and stands with a grunt, leaving me on the bench to grab my gloves. Once they’re snug, he ties his boots, ignoring any extra layers as he prepares to face the storm. He pulls me up from the bench, linking our hands. I can't help but worry; he could get sick out there.

As he leads me toward the door, I watch his back muscles flex while he pushes it open. “Do you think El will be okay alone while I go get coffee?” I ask, concerned about leaving the teenager sleeping without anyone around when she wakes.

“She’ll be just fine. You need fuel,” Joel replies, ushering me into the stairwell. He reaches back to grab my pink earmuffs before shutting the door.

He quickly turns to me, and I pull my hair back to let him do whatever he needs. “So do you. You still have work after whatever you’re planning,” I retort, gesturing to him with my hand.

He seizes the moment to grab mine, pulling me down the stairs. “I’m fine. I can make somethin’ later,” he reassures me as my worries spill out. I know he can cook; I can’t, which makes his concern clear.

We make it to the bottom of the stairwell, and Joel pulls me closer to him when I step out into the cold. “What are we having for dinner?” I ask, looking far ahead into the future.

The slush forms around our boots with every step down the alley, “Was thinkin’ tortellini. Ain’t had it in a while,” he says, his drawl slow and easy.

My smile beams bright and I squeeze his side. “I love you,” I remind him. Pasta is my second favorite after burgers and fries; we had that for dinner last night. On top of that, no one, and I mean no one, makes pasta like Joel. The fact that he’s constantly making my favorite meals is a sentiment that makes my heart skip a beat.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across his lips. “I love you too, Sugar,” he says proudly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my dry lips.

I relish the warmth in my heart as we turn the corner at the end of the building, stepping out toward the street. Joel frowns and shifts around me, positioning himself between me and the oncoming traffic. “Imogen,” he murmurs, his tone low.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” I reply, adjusting the mug slipping under my arm.

We approach the street corner by the coffee shop, and Joel presses the crossing signal button. I exhale, my breath visible in the frigid air, trying to move my legs like a little cricket to generate some warmth. Sensing my shivers, Joel wraps his arms around my shoulders. I lean into him, closing my eyes and ignoring the biting cold on my face.

When the signal changes, we quickly cross in front of the inviting glow of the coffee shop sign.

“I’ll text you and Ellie after the lunch rush, Sugar. Be careful out there,” he says, smoothing down my curls. He kisses my temple, and his cologne envelops me like a familiar cardigan, making me lose track of time by the nearly revolving door.

I raise an eyebrow when our gazes meet. “With what? Measuring the ingredients?”

He pulls me close, holding the front of my coat. “You know what I mean. Holiday shoppers are wild, Ginny,” he replies, leaving me with no room to argue.

As he steps back, I immediately start rubbing my legs for warmth. He opens the door for me, practically nudging me into the cozy coffee shop. I turn to wave goodbye, but he’s already jogging down the street.

With a heavy sigh, I turn to absorb the atmosphere of the bustling coffee shop. The space is cramped, with only a few small tables and a narrow bar against the window, barely accommodating the ever-growing line snaking out the door. The shop offers no food selections or reading materials, and the ambient lighting creates a cozy ambiance that contrasts sharply with the blinding glare of the snow outside.

As I wait, my thoughts drift to the holiday cookies I need to bake today per the suggestion from my social media manager. She insists that livestreaming my baking sessions could significantly boost traffic to the store. I’m intrigued by the idea, picturing a vibrant online audience watching as I mix, frost, and decorate, but I can’t shake the nerves.

Finally, I reach the front of the line, only to realize I still haven’t spotted Willow, the shop's owner. Usually, she’s a whirlwind of energy, darting between tables and the counter, especially during the holiday rush. Just as I’m about to ask the barista about her, an electrifying presence fills the room, shifting the air around me.

A sharp squeal pierces the chatter, and I mentally note to introduce Willow to Madi. Both women have an uncanny ability to light up any room they enter, and I can’t help but think they would make an unstoppable pair. “Is that my favorite baker?” Willow’s voice rings out proudly as she emerges from behind the counter, her arms outstretched for a warm embrace.

“Hi, Will,” I say, smiling into her hold. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon envelops me. Once we step back, I ask, “How are you?”

“I’m good! It’s been a while since Joel’s been getting your coffee every morning,” she teases, giving me a playful nudge.

My cheeks flush at the suggestion that Joel has been picking up coffee for me daily. Since he started, my interactions with Willow have dwindled. I know they’ve developed a friendship, chatting about smart business strategies and sharing ideas, which I’m glad for—Joel needs someone to brainstorm with, especially since Tommy and I lack that business-minded focus.

Tucking my cold hands into the depths of my pockets, I reply, “I know, I felt like I needed to show my face.”

Willow darts behind the counter, effortlessly replacing the cashier and assigning them another task. She reminds me of a more polished version of myself, navigating her responsibilities with grace. Organized and innovative, her creativity shines through in her unique coffee concoctions. “The usual?” she inquires, raising an eyebrow, her playful curiosity evident.

“Yes, please,” I murmur, lowering my gaze, not wanting to draw the attention of the bustling coffee shop around us.

My feet shuffle forward as I pull my wallet from my coat pocket, the chill of the air biting at my skin. Willow purses her lips, shaking her head firmly. “It’s on the house,” she insists, her voice warm yet authoritative.

I shake my head vigorously, determined to assert my independence. “No, it’s not. Mine was at least $6. Let me pay you,” I plead, urgency creeping into my voice.

Willow narrows her eyes at me, her tone sharp and playful. “Ginny, don’t you dare.”

The sudden shift in her demeanor catches me off guard, and I instinctively raise my hands in surrender. But as she turns away to set my cup at the front of the line, I seize the opportunity, quickly swiping a twenty from my wallet and sneakily dropping it into the tip jar.

Stepping to the side, I wait as she chats with her colleagues, the warmth of the shop contrasting with the chill outside. When Willow finally joins me, her expression shifts, and she begins, “I want to talk to you about something.”

My body fills with concern as I scan her from head to toe, the frantic energy of the moment tightening my chest. “Okay, are you alright?” I ask, urgency lacing my voice.

“Yeah, it’s nothing personal. I was just wondering if you had time to look at the proposal I sent you last week. I didn’t hear anything about it,” she replies, her tone steady yet tinged with disappointment.

A wave of shame washes over me as I recall our casual conversation about starting a bookstore café together. We had dreamt aloud, imagining a cozy space brimming with romance novels, my pastries nestled beside her expertly brewed coffee. It was the perfect haven for book clubs and events I’d longed to host at Daylight, but which had never attracted enough interest.

As I speak, my gaze inadvertently drifts to Willow’s neck. I squint, my heart sinking as I take in the unmistakable dark bruises mottling her skin just below her jaw. They stand out sharply against her complexion, like a warning sign. A cold knot of concern twists in my stomach. Despite our camaraderie, an unsettling feeling creeps in when her boyfriend is around—a lingering doubt that makes me question everything.

“Oh um, sorry I’ve been busy. I must’ve forgotten to look at the email,” I say, forcing my focus back to her words, though the sight of those bruises looms in my mind.

“Will you at least consider it when you open it?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

I hesitate, a blush creeping into my cheeks as I shrug. Daylight was my first venture, one I had nurtured mostly alone, and the thought of sharing control was daunting. “I don’t know. Starting a new business sounds stressful, especially since we just got out of the red,” I admit, my worries now tinged with a deeper concern for her.

Willow bites her plum lips, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. She nods slightly, and I can see the glimmer of hope begin to dim.

Leaning in closer, I lower my voice, ensuring it’s just for her. “But can I get back to you after the holidays?” I propose, wanting to keep the door open.

Her face brightens with a small smile. “For sure, we can meet at Daylight, and I’ll bring the coffee,” she responds, her enthusiasm returning. “Speaking of, I think yours is coming up,” she adds, glancing toward the counter, where the barista is preparing my drink.

When she crosses in front of me, my gaze drifts back to those bruises. She returns a couple moments later with my cup, but I still can’t shake the concern gnawing at me. “Willow,” I say, my voice softening, “can I ask… what happened to your neck?”

At the mention of her bruises, Willow’s demeanor shifts. Her smile falters, and I notice her eyes flicker with a hint of nervousness. She waves a hand dismissively, but I can see the tension in her posture. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little mishap,” she says, her voice too light, too rehearsed.

But I can’t let it go. “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re okay?” My eyes search hers, hoping for honesty.

She hesitates, the flicker of vulnerability in her gaze making my heart race. “Really, Ginny, I’m fine. Just clumsy, you know?”

I don’t believe her. The tension hangs heavy, and the doubt lingers between us. “If you need to talk about anything, I’m here,” I say, my voice firm but gentle, unwilling to drop the subject entirely.

“I know, and thank you,” she responds, her voice barely above a whisper.

Willow’s smile looks plastered on, strained at the edges, as she blinks a couple of times, attempting to shake off the weight of our previous conversation. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “So, what are you and Joel doing for the holidays?” she quickly changes the subject, her voice a touch too bright.

I take a breath, eager to share a bit of our plans. “We have an obligation to go to Christmas dinner at my friend Madi’s house since Joel is her family’s holiday chef. They’re loaded. But after that, we’ll probably come back to the city. Do you and your boyfriend have plans?” I reply, noting the way her eyes flicker, as if she’s gauging my reaction.

Willow’s gaze drops for a moment, her enthusiasm fading. “I’m not sure. We usually just stay here for all the holidays because my family is in Seattle,” she says, her voice trailing off, the cheeriness dimming as she speaks.

I step a bit closer, feeling a sense of urgency. “Is it just going to be the two of you?” I quickly ask, my eagerness to extend an invitation evident in my tone.

“Yeah,” she sighs glumly, the weight of that single word hanging between us like a fog. I can’t help but feel a sense of dread. I wonder if Josh might have something to do with the bruises on her neck. The thought unsettles me; I want to pull her away from him. I know Joel would never do something like this to me, but I can’t be sure about Josh.

Firming my resolve, I want to bring her some holiday cheer. “You should come with us to Christmas dinner at Madi’s and come over the next morning for breakfast,” I suggest, my heart racing at the thought of her joining us.

Willow shakes her head, looking conflicted. “Oh no, I can’t crash your Christmas,” she protests, but I can see a flicker of interest in her eyes.

“Yes, you can. You can finally meet all the people I talk about,” I insist, feeling the urge to pull her into our festive circle.

Her expression falters again, and I can tell she’s weighing her options. “I don’t know. Josh might be in a mood. Can I let you know later?” she replies, her voice uncertain, and I sense a hesitation beneath her words.

I offer a reassuring smile, trying to ease her worries. “Yeah, of course. Joel cooks the whole day before and he’s making more than enough food for everyone to go for thirds,” I reassure her, hoping to dispel her doubts and get her out of that situation.

“Okay, thanks for the invite,” she says, a hint of warmth returning to her tone, though I can still see the uncertainty lingering in her eyes.

I glance at my watch, knowing I need to head out. “Of course. I have to actually go work now,” I say, shifting my weight, ready to break away.

“Boo,” she replies, a playful pout crossing her lips, her momentary lightness lifting my spirits.

“I know. But I’ll text you!” I say, a smile creeping back onto my face, glad to see her lighten up even just a bit.

“Sounds good,” she says, her eyes brightening just enough to make me feel hopeful as I turn to leave, but I can’t shake the feeling that I need to keep an eye on her boyfriend.

Around 11 PM, the front door slides open to my condo, and the familiar sound pulls me from the fog of exhaustion. I lift my head slightly from the couch, blinking against the dim light to see Joel dragging his feet inside. He looks worn, his shoulders heavy with the weight of work stress. As he kicks off his shoes and sheds his coat, his eyes remain fixed on the ground, the tension radiating off him palpable.

Even with his head bent, I catch the deep furrow in his brow and the way his eyebrows nearly touch in the center, a clear sign of the battles he’s faced throughout the day. I glance down the hall, knowing Ellie might still be awake, and just in case she is, I whisper-shout, “Hey.”

When his espresso-colored eyes finally meet mine, something shifts. The tight lines of his face soften, and a flicker of warmth ignites in his gaze. He lingers at the door, taking a moment to drink me in, as if the sight of me could wash away the day’s burdens. My heart quickens as our eyes lock, and I can’t help but notice the slight curve of his lips that hints at a smile.

“Missed you,” he says, his voice low and sincere, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. The simple honesty of his words sends a thrill through me, and I smile back, feeling an electric tension fill the space between us.

“Me too,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. He steps closer, and the air thickens with unspoken emotions. I can feel the heat radiating from him, a magnetic pull that draws me in.

He pulls into his arms as he reaches the couch, and I breathe in his familiar scent—woodsy and comforting. Our bodies fit together perfectly, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. I can feel the weight of his day starting to lift, but there’s something else simmering beneath the surface, a shared understanding of what we mean to each other.

“Why don’t we take a bath?” he suggests, his voice a low rumble against my hair. “We could both use it.”

The idea of soaking in warm water, together, sounds heavenly. “That sounds perfect,” I reply, looking up at him with a smile. His eyes light up with relief and something deeper, a sense of intimacy that makes my heart race.

“Let’s make it cozy,” he adds, his expression playful now. “Candles, maybe?”

I nod, excitement bubbling within me. “I’ll grab some.”

I hurry to gather the candles, setting them around the bathroom while Joel fills it with warm water. The soft glow of the flickering flames creates a soothing atmosphere. When everything is ready, we slide into the tub together, the heat enveloping us like a comforting embrace.

Once we’re settled, Joel takes my feet in his hands, gently lifting one to rest in his lap. I watch as he begins to massage my soles, his fingers working out the tension with a deftness that leaves me sighing in relief. “You really know how to treat a girl,” I tease, a playful smile dancing on my lips.

“I aim to please,” he replies, his gaze steady and warm, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

I beam, slowly pulling back my foot so I can crawl into Joel’s lap. Once I’m in the correct position, I straddle him. “I know another way you could please me,” I nudge as I brush my thumbs over his stubble. “Can I kiss you? I haven’t kissed you in hours,” I mumble, slightly tilting my head. It’s not my fault I can’t get enough of his touch and his taste.

He furrows his brows at my question. “Yeah, Sugar. Ya never have to ask me,” he declares, tightening his arms around my waist.

I smile and lean in slowly, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He parts my cracked lips with his tongue and I savor the taste of him. I moan, deepening the kiss and I feel his cock grow hard beneath me. He grabs my neck as he leans into me.

Before he can deepen the kiss, I gently pull back, breaking the connection. “I forgot to ask you about your day. How was it?”

With my hands cradling his face, I begin to place soft kisses on his cheeks, enjoying the warmth of his skin. He rubs my back, a comforting gesture that makes me feel cherished in this moment. “Fine, Sugar. Just busy,” he chuckles, leaning back against the edge of the tub, the water glistening around us. “How ‘bout you? How was your day?”

“I finished getting everyone’s Christmas gifts today so good, but tiring,” I reply, letting out a soft sigh.

My hands wander down to his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles as I continue. “I feel selfish for adding to your stress today. You should be focused on the Michelin Star, not whatever surprise you’re cooking up for me,” I confess.

He lets out a sigh, scratching his scruff thoughtfully. “Listen here, I don’t give a damn ‘bout that restaurant. I care ‘bout you and Ellie, Sugar. More than anyone or anything else. As long as y’all are okay, everythin’ else can wait.” His gaze locks onto mine, and I feel the weight of his sincerity in that moment—a promise that goes beyond any accolades. His words create an unspoken bond between us, grounding me in the depth of his commitment.

I reach down into the water, and wrap my hand around his cock. “We can still relieve some stress.”

I try to urge him on by fisting his cock and rubbing it through my wet folds. A smirk takes over my face, as I watch his face for a reaction. He looks at me with wide eyes, gripping the sides of the tub.

“Gin,” Joel warns just before I situate the head of him near my opening. In one go, I completely sink down onto his hard member. He groans quietly and I bite my lip, relishing in this feeling. I’m full of him in every place.

I start slowly moving up and down on his length, careful not to splash water up the sides of the tub. Every inch of his cock impacts me in all the right places. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this in here. Your muscles are all tight as it is, Sugar,” he continues worrying.

I curse myself for having such a high sex drive and needing him every hour of every day. Instead of letting my thoughts take over, I kiss him deeply, silencing his warnings. While swirling my hips, he swallows my moans and begins thrusting in me from below.

“I know. But I need you, Joel,” I whisper against his lips.

With a groan, he gives into my pleas and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my chest closer to his. Joel sets a rhythm, thrusting up into me slowly over and over again. The eye contact is maddening and I can’t help it but shut my eyes at the feeling. He takes full control and I let him, enjoying every bit of this moment.

“Fuck, Imogen. I’m in love with you,” Joel groans when I bite down on his shoulder to avoid moaning too loud. His pubic area runs against my clit in the most delicious way. The building could be burning down around us and I wouldn’t notice.

Joel squeezes me tighter as my back arches into him, and a bit of the water begins to splash over the side of the tub. I tuck my head into his neck, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. “I love you Joel, so so much,” the moaning babble slips from my lips.

Joel picks up the pace of his hips, helping me to move on top of him. His movements sync with mine, and my mouth opens in a silent scream. I feel Joel slide his hand between us, feeling for my clit. It only takes him a second to find it, sending my whole body ablaze. He starts rubbing quick circles, with his mouth occupied by sucking my skin between his teeth. When he kisses and bites at my sweet spot, I nearly see stars. He drives into me, filling me to the brim each and every time.

My impending orgasm begins coiling tightly like a spring. Ringing fills my ears and my heart has surely floated to the outside of my body. “That’s it, Sugar. Let me have it,” Joel grunts out. His words are enough to release the coil of my orgasm. I let out a long strained moan, falling into him. I grasp at his shoulders feeling the euphoria course through me.

“Holy shit, Joel,” I moan as he slowly strokes me through my orgasm. He lets me come down with full control, allowing me to grind on top of him for a while. Then, I come to a stop with him still solid and sheathed inside me.

I need a second to breathe if I’m going to keep being on top. Joel nibbles at the top of my ear, and his hands are everywhere. My legs, my back, and my chest. Before Joel, I wondered what it would be like to make love. Now, I think I’d have to murder him if he tried to leave me.

“I’m real proud of you, Sugar,” Joel gives me words of affirmation and I smile, lifting my head to look at him. There’s still a fuzzy haze around the edge of my eyes, but the center is clear. I have a drop dead gorgeous man all to myself.

“Mind turnin’ around for me so I can keep lookin’ after you?” Joel asks, lightly tapping my thighs underwater. I nod with anticipation because that’s exactly what I need right now. Every bone in my body urges me to make him feel the same pleasure I’m feeling right now.

I steady my hand on Joel’s shoulders, slowly lifting myself up. We both hiss at the loss of contact and I quickly turn until my back is facing him. I slowly sink down in the water on my knees. My hands go to the bottom of the tub so I can poke my ass into the air for him.

“Damn, I wish you could see how beautiful you look,” I hear Joel sigh behind me, his voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration, as if I’ve taken his breath away. The sincerity in his tone sends a warm rush through me, amplifying the flutter in my chest. It’s as if, in that moment, I truly possess his heart—every beat of it belongs to me. His compliment lingers in the air, wrapping around us like a gentle wave, and the way he sees me makes me feel radiant. I can feel a deep connection between us, a shared understanding that transcends words; we own every part of each other, our vulnerabilities and strengths intertwined. The heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but smile, feeling both shy and elated by his words.

The water shifts beneath me, and I feel Joel’s hands on my ass. I jerk slightly when his wet hands make contact with my skin, but relax when he begins rubbing the skin. “Hang on to the edge of the tub, Gin. I don’t want you slippin’.”

Joel spanks me lightly and I whine in response, crawling towards the edge closest to the window. He follows my lead, moving forwards until he’s needled behind me. He uses one knee to nudge my leg wider and suddenly, he’s pushing back into me.

No matter how many times we have sex, being full of Joel all at once never gets old. He snaps his hips forward again and again, showing me what he meant about holding the porcelain beneath my finger tips. My moans reverberate back to me and I don’t recognize the sound coming from my throat. Joel groans in response, gripping my sides deliciously as he picks up the pace. “You’re takin’ me so well,” Joel grunts.

Instead of letting Joel have full control, I begin rocking my hips so we crash together with each trust. With every piston of his hips, I slide forward on my knees causing just the right amount of pain. Joel doesn’t let that stop him though, pulling me back with his strong hands.

It’s simultaneously just the right amount and completely overwhelming. My love for Joel feels suffocating as I grapple with how to express it. “Breathe, Ginny. You ain't breathin’,” he says, his hand gently resting on my neck from behind.

My chest expands as I gasp for air. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, but given how much I usually talk, that was likely Joel’s first clue. My clit buzzes a signal up my thighs and I squeeze around his cock again. “Joel, I’m about to-“ my whimpers are cut off by him picking up the pace. How am I supposed to breathe when he’s trying to murder me with his penis?

"Not yet, Sugar. Just breathe. Breathe with me." His voice is gentle, yet his grip on my neck becomes tight. I try to heed his words, concentrating on my breathing, but every part of me feels like I might collapse.

“Please, Joel,” I shamelessly beg Joel, feeling the pleasure built in my stomach. My cunt contracts around him more and I notice his thrusts becoming uneasy as he nears the end with me.

“Now, Sugar, show me how much ya love me and let go,” Joel coos and I can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as I am. I clench around him so tight, I think I’ll hurt him somehow. My fist balls up and I moan a little too loudly as he strokes us through our orgasms.

Joel’s hot cum shoots inside me, filling me to the brim. “I love you. I love you. I love ya, Ginny,” he chants as I milk him for everything he’s got.

Joel slows himself down, rolling into me one last time as he finishes his release. I’m panting, and when I lick my lips, I taste the saltiness of my sweat on my tongue.

My back twists slightly so I can look at Joel. He gazes at me, his eyes filled with a mix of admiration and desire, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve and contour of my body. His hands gently cradle my stomach, his touch both tender and possessive, radiating warmth that sends shivers down my spine.

“House first, baby second,” I say, my voice steady but playful, a warning laced with sincerity. I know the spark in his eyes suggests he might be imagining a future beyond this moment, a future that could include more than just the three of us.

I can feel the weight of his gaze change into a blend of longing and determination. I move away from him before he gets any more ideas, causing him to groan with disappointment when he pulls out. I turn to sit across from him again, and he mirrors me.

I sink down into the tub, with only my head above water. He takes my feet and pulls them into his lap, beginning to massage them again. He works through every knot in my soles. “That was incredible. You’re somethin’ else, ain’t ya?” Joel rasps.

A soft giggle escapes me, and I wonder if I could ever give up this feeling. “Not as amazing as you,” I responded, wondering where that much energy came from when the man works all day.

Suddenly, I remember Willow’s recent proposal. The idea of a cozy haven filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the sound of turning pages is enticing, but my stomach churns at the thought.

“I forgot to tell you Willow asked me to partner with her on a bookstore café,” I admit, my voice laced with uncertainty. “But I’m worried about handling the finances. You and I both know numbers aren’t my strong suit.”

He leans in, his expression all warm and steady. “That’s alright, Sugar,” he begins, calm as a summer breeze. “Me and Willow can handle that. You just focus on the books and the vibe. Y’all’ll create a place folks are gonna love.”

His confidence is comforting, yet I still feel hesitant. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if I fail?”

He drops my foot and moves closer, pulling me into his lap. “You ain’t gonna fail. You’ve given up so much for me; now it’s your turn to chase after what you want. You deserve this, trust me. Just think ‘bout the joy it could bring you,” he reassures me.

As his words sink in, excitement and apprehension swirl within me. But then a troubling thought surfaces, uninvited. “I’ve been worried about her lately,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “I noticed bruises on her neck today and I’m afraid they came from her boyfriend.”

His expression shifts, concern replacing calm. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“I don’t know for sure, but it didn’t look right. She brushed it off, but…” I trail off, feeling the weight of my worry. “I invited her to Christmas dinner, hoping to create some space between the two. Maybe if she sees how different things can be, she’ll think twice,” I explain.

He tightens his grip around my waist and his brow is furrowed. I can tell he’s holding in every ounce of composure so he doesn’t get out of this tub to go find Josh. “You oughta talk to her. She needs to know she can count on us. And I want you to know, I’d never hurt you. You deserve someone who treats you right, with respect and kindness.”

I nod, his words a balm against my anxiety. “I know. I just don’t want her to go through this alone,” I affirm.

As I meet his reassuring gaze, I feel the urgency of our conversation merge with the potential of my dreams. Maybe, with his support, this could be my chance to pursue not just my goals, but also help my friend.

Once the conversation settles, we finish our bath, the warm water soothing our bodies. As we step out, he wraps a warm, fuzzy towel around me, the fabric enveloping me in comfort. I smile up at him, probably with gratitude shining in my eyes.

After drying off, I slip into a delicate lace slip. My bonnet slides over my curls while Joel changes into a pair of soft boxers. He scoops me up effortlessly, carrying me to the bed. I nestle against him, feeling safe and cherished. “I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. I smile, warmth spreading through me as I echo his sentiment.

I allow myself to drift to sleep, but I can't help but toss and turn the entire night thinking about Willow's situation. My mind is spinning, formulating an idea so bold, it leaves my palms sweaty. I’m going to get her away from Josh.

I just don’t know how dangerous it might get.

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 2 (Joel Miller x f! Reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge put on by @hellishjoel 🙏 Thanks again for this overabundance of Dilfy Pedro content & promotion 🥵

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: Roughly 4000

Warning: Dilfy Smut/ Age Gap (23 & 42)

“(Y/N), do you want some money for pizza?" The voice sounded like a distant echo. "(Y/N)... (Y/N)?"

You finally snapped out of a daydream and turned to your mother in the kitchen from the sink where you aimlessly washed dishes. "Huh?"

"Do you want some money to order a pizza or are you going to have something here?" Your mother waited for a response that was taking you an extra long time to give.

"Oh." You cleared your throat and looked at the soapy bowl in your hands, "No... no I'll eat something here."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "Yeah there's... soup and stuff."

"Soup?" Your mother asked, "It’s eighty-eighty degrees outside.”

You shrugged. "I had a turkey sub for a late lunch. I'm fine." You managed a smile, "What time will you and Dad be back?"

"Well the banquet starts at seven." She eyed the ceiling as she thought, "I can't see us being out much past ten."

Your father wandered down the stairs straightening his tie that completed a black suit, "How do I look?"

"Dapper dear."

You laughed, "Dapper? Is that still a word?"

"Hey if selfie is a word," your father contested, "Then, yes, dapper is a word. And I'll take it." He kissed your mother on the cheek, "Are we ready to go?"

"Just about." Jennifer glanced at you again.

"I'll be fine." You shoo'd them with your hand, "You guys look great."

Tim reached into his wallet and handed his daughter a twenty. "Just take it," he ordered with a grin when you began to refuse. “In case you change your mind about the pizza.”

"Fine." You smiled and tucked it into your jeans and then kissed them each on the cheek. "Have fun."

The two of them waved and then headed toward the front door, locking it behind them and heading off for the evening.

You continued with the dishes, unable to put the events of the night before out of your mind. You knew you had officially crossed a line - a big line. You had had one of the hottest moments of your life the night before with your much-older neighbor. All day you had kept an eye out for Joel. Once you'd seen him outside watering flowers in the front of the house and another time washing his car. With your parents quite literally over your shoulder it proved to be harder to pursue his offers than you would have thought.

All the more reason to have my own place, you thought.

You turned off the faucet and dried your hands before making your way up into your bedroom. You had begun to feel like a stalker, staking out Joel's every move and looking for some opportunity or excuse to go over there to see him.

"Where ya headed?" Joel's voice filtered in through the open window in your room and you rushed to the window to listen.

You swallowed hard, watching as he sat on a rider lawn mower shouting to your parents who hadn't yet left the driveway.

"Retirement dinner!" Your father shouted, "Open bar!"

"Even better." Joel put his hands out to the sides and gave a wave. "Enjoy!"

You took a breath and saw him kick the mower back into gear before continuing on down the yard. You couldn't take your eyes off of him and only did to watch your parents' vehicle vacate the premises with a friendly double-beep of the horn as they headed a few towns away to a fancy dinner for a friend.

Do I go over there? you wondered. Will I look too desperate? Your heart raced and all of a sudden you felt like you were in high school again - waiting for your parents to leave so you could talk to some guy you were crushing on. Not just some guy, you knew. He was more than you had bargained for in the best of ways.

With a deep breath you took a glance at yourself and changed from the plain, pink t-shirt into a fresh cami from the closet before reapplying some deodorant and giving a spritz from her best Victoria's Secret body spray collection.

I'll just go grab a beer and sit outside, you decided with a nod before ripping the hair-tie from your hair and letting it fall in a naturally messy fashion around your face.

You darted down the steps, reached for a bottle of Bud Lite and headed out the back door to sit on the steps. Your heart was pounding now and flashes of memories from the night before continued to rattle your brain, sending electric currents to every part of your body. You didn't want the encounter to be a one-time ordeal and so when you saw him casually ride up and down in the next yard over you couldn't help but stare.

He's busy. You didn't know if you meant what you were thinking or if you were just scared to go over there and talk to him.

Each second felt like a minute; each minute like an hour. You adjusted from sitting to standing, to sitting again and then decided to pretend to check the mailbox, though you couldn't have cared less if there was mail or not. All you wanted was for Joel to notice you.

Like before, your heart thudded with each step as you crossed the yard and rounded the house that was adjacent to Joel's. His back was to you, and for that you cursed to yourself but you continued the walk toward the driveway, glancing out of the corner of your eye as he put the mower in reverse and turned to face your direction. As your feet waltzed over the pavement you saw him glance over, letting his stare linger as you paced the length of driveway before reaching the mailbox.

You swallowed hard, noting there was nothing to retrieve and then took a deep breath as you prepared your walk back. Again, Joel’s back was to you and he continued what he was doing, mowing perfectly straight rows up and down the lawn.

You sighed, noting it was only halfway done and the impatience that radiated out of you began to drive you mad. Still, next door Joel didn't falter. He carried on with a sense of patience and control that it almost made you feel crazy.

He doesn't seem to be in any rush, why should I?

You sipped your beer again and then reluctantly went in the house when Joel disappeared around the opposite side of his. You scrunched your nose and turned on the television to try to pass some time, though you opened up the living room windows so you could hear the hum of the lawnmower.

You actively felt yourself growing weaker as you relived the moment in the bathroom yet again - his face a few inches from yours while his fingers explored your most sensitive areas. You imagined his inability to control himself in the midst of his climax that left him cursing and moaning with no regard for anything but the way you were making him feel. And his eyes; his eyes burned into your soul and made you submit to him in ways that no other man had. Never in your life had you been enamored so quickly or fallen so hard and fast for someone. It was all brand new and exciting.

It's driving me crazy!

When the lawnmower went off you muted the television and listened, wanting to burst out the front door and run over next door. You knew you couldn't do that - not if you wanted to look like you could handle the passion that was brewing between you and Joel. He wouldn't tolerate some clingy little girl. You knew he needed a woman - a hot, young woman to satisfy him.

You tapped your foot and bit down on your fingernails until they were as short as they could possibly go. As the world grew darker your hopes began to fade. Truthfully, you didn't know if you had the balls to go over and knock on the door of his house. Though, without warning, fate finally appeared to be on your side.

A light knock at the back door made you freeze. Your body went numb and you swallowed hard, able to hear the beating of your own heart. On a second knock, you sprung to your feet and began to rush through the living room. The closer you got, the slower you moved in an attempt to look like you had your shit together. You didn't - not even a little bit. Still, you were addicted to the feeling and the suspense that went along with your short bout of time knowing Joel. If it was anyone else at the back door you knew you might lose it, and so when you flung it open and he stood there still in his yard clothes, you couldn't help but smile as excitement and relief filtered through your body.

"Hi." You smiled at him.

"Hi." Joel's voice cut straight through you. A familiar tantalizing chill ran down your spine.

You stepped aside and held the door, prompting him to slowly ease himself inside. As if it was already a habit he removed his work boots and closed the door behind him, leaving them on a mat so as not to make a mess. The action made you grin and you glanced up at him.

"You, uh... you cool with the shit that went down last night?" Joel asked, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

You nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure?" The human lie-detector in him studied your features more intently now though he could tell from the smirk you were fighting off, your big excited eyes and the reddening flush in your face that you were being truthful.

"Yeah, I'm sure." You nodded and Joel looked around for a moment. "My parents are... gone."

"Until when?"

"Ten."

His eyes landed on a clock that read seven-thirty-six and then he returned his gaze to meet yours. "The mail doesn't come on Sundays."

"What?" you looked at him, "Yeah, I know..."Your voice trailed off and you felt your face grow a shade darker again.

Joel began to chuckle, "I was sure you did."

You shook your head and sighed, putting your hands on your hips for a moment before casting them out to the sides. He had seen right through your little stroll up the driveway.

"You could've just come over ya know." He gave a closed-mouth smile accompanied by playful eyes.

"I didn't want to bother you when you were mowing the lawn."

Joel smiled, "I was just fuckin’ killing time.. waiting around.. hoping you’d bring by some butter.”

"You were?" You smiled a little wider, pleased to know that you weren’t the only one who felt the anxiety that went along with the cat-and-mouse game you were actively involved in.

"My dick's been hard half the day thinking of last night. Took some serious will power not to fuckin' take care of it myself."

Fuck. What a visual that was.

You giggled but felt that familiar flush in your cheeks again as you leaned back against the counter across from him. Joel grinned when you began to twirl the blinds closed in front of the kitchen window.

For a moment he stared across the room, taking every part of you in from where he stood and eyed each twirl of your fingers around the blinds. When you moved to the next window to assure your privacy, he stalked quietly, waiting for you to begin to close the blinds on the second window before moving in behind to wrap an arm around your midsection.

You felt it again - the electricity. His touch shot currents through your body like you had never experienced. Your eyes closed as he kissed your neck; you whimpered as his fingers carefully undid the button of your jeans. He teased you by letting them dance just an inch or two below your waistline.

Joel reached for your hand, placing it on the front of his jeans and began to nibble on your earlobe. You bit your bottom lip when you felt his hard-on through his pants. "This is what you fuckin' do to me," he whispered.

"Mmm..." you moaned, keeping your eyes closed, "You already know what you do to me,” you told him, pushing his hand farther down your pants so he could feel the dampness that had lingered there since seeing him out on the lawn mower.

He moaned against you, pushing his erection against you from behind and continued to ravage your ear. "I've been dreaming of what you feel like all day." Joel continued to whisper, becoming more aroused by the second.

"God..." you pressed your eyes shut, your arousal spiking now from his words. When you felt his hands sweep down over the thin straps of your cami, you slunk your arms out of it, allowing him the access to grasp both of your breasts from behind. His hot breaths continued to land on your neck. When you heard him undo his zipper you almost couldn't take it. You sighed out loud and reciprocated his advances when he bent you over in front of the back door so your hands were pressed firmly against it.

Joel dropped his pants, stepping out of them with ease and removed himself from the black boxer-briefs he was left standing in. With a swift move he fingered your underwear to the side and positioned himself so at your entrance.The anticipation was almost too much.

You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes as you waited those long couple of seconds until finally feeling him for the first time. Inch by inch he eased in.When Joel pushed fully inside of you, you moaned

“Ughh…”. His deep, desperate breaths from behind made you feel weaker in the knees, though when his big, strong hands clamped down on the outsides of your hips and he started thrusting you were taken to a whole new level of pleasure.

"Fuck..." You were barely able to get the word out as he wasted no time, pumping hard and relentlessly into you; though when he didn’t stop you couldn’t contain yourself. “Oh..my..God.” You couldn’t hold it in.

Joel closed his eyes, switching his hands from your hips to her shoulders. He tried to remain in control of the feeling, but everything about you got the best of him. The way your back was arched; the way his name echoed off the kitchen walls as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn’t help it.

As a man who often prided himself on control, Joel was the one who was overwhelmed with a desire so intense that he felt like he could come already at any second. It was why he was forced to pull out, replacing his dick with fingers so he could continue to pleasure you.

“Joel.” You whined his name and your fingers curled against the door, widening your feet again to assure he could do whatever he wanted. Your head dropped and your midsection went weak. “Fuck.” When he removed his fingers this time he pulled you back to him, spinning your around to face him and then crashed his lips against yours.

Joel's tongue dominated you and you wrapped your arms around him. Both of you moaned together as you took a breath in the kiss before he picked you up by the backs of your legs and set you down on the kitchen counter so you faced him. For another few seconds you continued to make out fiercely until he finally reconnected himself to you again at the edge of the marble.

You met his half-open eyes as he proceed to fuck you raw. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and left the other pressed firmly into the counter with your calves digging into the backs of his legs. He appeared as if he was barely hanging on, though everything he was doing was effectively leading you toward an orgasm.

Your eyes closed now and your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders. You tightened your legs around him and whimpered. It left your thighs aching; your stomach taut. The strength of what was building was mind-blowing, and you begged him not to stop as you let yourself go, releasing a moan you didn’t know you had in you. It was primal and raw, accompanying a burst of pleasure that pulsed with such ferocity that Joel groaned from the recognition of your climatic moment.

"Holy fuck..” He barely got the second word out and gripped your hips harder before releasing inside of you, complimenting your orgasm with a powerful one of his own. Joel let out a guttural moan and had trouble catching his breath as the feeling lingered. Joel kissed you hard as he finished completely, leaving an ache on your lips as he breathed his final breaths into your mouth.

You held onto him hard. Sweat coated his heaving back beneath your palms as he breathed heavily and rested his forehead against yours, now dormant inside of you.

"Fuck," he whispered against your lips and pulled your hips closer to his, thrusting slowly into you once more as if to assure you had gotten every single drop from him.

"Mmm..." you hummed a moan, keeping your arms slung loosely around him. In that moment, you knew you could easily get in too deep, too fast.

When his lips lazily danced against yours again you felt the same electricity as when he'd first entered the house. Your new mission was not to fall in love.

"Any of them college boys ever fuck you like that?" Joel whispered, half-smirking with heavy, satisfied eyes. He hummed another quiet moan and nibbled sensually on your earlobe.

Your senses hadn't quite turned to normal and your face glowed a shade darker. You breathed out the word, “No.”

Joel pecked your lips a few more times in a row before finally separating himself from you.

All of it still felt a bit surreal. For the first time ever you didn't have a care in the world for what kind of consequences could stem from your actions. Joel didn't take his eyes off of you. The lazy post-coital gleam in his eye was unmistakable and you finally chuckled when he failed to look away from here.

"What?" you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Joel's face twisted into a mischievous smirk. "Let me see your phone." He kissed you once more before pushing back off the counter to retrieve his pants from the floor.

"My phone?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Your phone." Joel began to get dressed and you slowly slunk off the countertop, feeling a heaviness in your thighs.

You glanced around the kitchen, not wholly aware of where you'd left it and then reached a few feet away across the counter when it finally caught your eye.

Joel waited patiently, still smirking to himself. "Punch the code in, honey."

You did as he asked and were tempted to ask what he was doing, but ultimately decided you had nothing to hide and slipped the phone into his waiting palm.

"What the hell was that friend of yours name from the bar last night?" He asked.

You pressed her eyebrows together, a small bout of jealousy filling your body. "Holly. Why?"

Joel kept his eyes on the small screen in front of him, letting his tongue dance over his lips in amusement as his thumbs began to type away at the screen.

The anxious butterflies returned to your stomach and you were dying to know what he was writing.

Joel continued to smirk, almost laughing to himself, and then a noise went off that indicated he'd successfully sent a text message. "Here." He tossed the phone back and sat down at a chair at the kitchen table, crossing one foot over the other, waiting in anticipation as you read what he'd written.

Your eyes scanned the screen and you couldn't contain a wide grin when you saw that he had texted her parents claiming you were spending the night at Holly's house.

When your eyes lifted to meet his, Joel maintained a smile and waited for what you would say.

You decide to tease him. "I'm not staying at Holly's house tonight."

"I know." He nodded matter-of-factly.

You snickered, knowing what he was getting at. "What about my car? My parents will see it in the garage."

Joel waved a hand again, requesting the phone back.

You handed it over, smiling as he sent another message before tossing it back to you again.

"Holly is on her way to pick me up," you read aloud.

Joel cleared his throat and then rested his hands behind his head. Before either of you could say anything more your phone went off and he chuckled, prompting you to put your finger to your lips over an ear-to-ear grin.

"Now, I thought you were an adult and could do whatever the fuck you wanted." He winked and you fought back a laugh as you answered the phone.

"Hi Mom." You made eye contact with Joel who you knew was gaining far too much amusement from the situation. "Yeah I'll text you when we get to her house... no we're not going out drinking." You paused, “Yeah I'll get us some pizza with the money." Another pause. "Okay, goodnight."

When you hung up the phone you eyed Joel again who appeared more than satisfied about the situation. "How will I get back over here without being noticed?"

“I've put all the pieces of this plan into motion,” he reminded you, “Time for you to be creative." Joel slipped his boots back on. "I'm going to shower," he informed you.

“Okay.” You reached down for your jeans, still standing next-to-naked in the center of the kitchen.

Joel made his way back to you, resting his fingers beneath your chin and tapping just under your lips with his thumb. He then leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. "Pack a bag. I'll leave my back door unlocked."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 3

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @smolbeanzzz

[sstardustt3]

"smile, you're on camera y'know?"

summary- fem!reader and joel go get grocries while reader films.

word count- 1611k

tags- Ifem!reader x joel miller I fem!reader being a horrible camera woman I pre!outbreak (like way before) I 19yo!joel I breif mention of sarah I pregnant!reader I domestic fluff I grumpy x sunshine trope I

additonal info- Hiii this is my first actual fic so sorry if it's bad and it's not proof read so sorry for some grammer mistakes and i'll end up doing another post abt this but i'm going to make a masterlist for my fics in the future and i also can do requests and prompts so if you like this and any future fics and writing please feel free to put it in! reposts are also appreciated.

time-12:35 

Date- 3/31/2001

Recording sesion- 15:28:52

“Fucckkk…” Joel groaned and shifted around in the sheets

“If you don’t get that goddamned camera out my face…what is it five?”

Your eyes drifted down to the time at the corner of the camera.

“No actually, it’s twelve thirty five. I let you sleep in.” 

 you said from behind the camcorder, having a bit of a laugh at his irritation. He rolled his eyes at your comment and put the sheets over his head. Which promptly got it pulled off and thrown onto the ground

“No c’mon get up sleepy. We have shit to do.”

“Why can’t you go yourself since you’re full dressed already?’

Despite his protests and mumbling, sadly for him he knew he could never deny you, so he begrudgingly rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, mumbling on the way. You soon followed, the cold air hitting your body once again and went to the drawer and sat the camera down as she slipped the thick whit socks on.

“He’s so adorobly in love with me, and it might seem like he hates me but trust me if you saw the way he was all over me last night you would be eating your words right now, trust.”  you chuckle to your camera, picking it up and walking to the sink in their bathroom. You hear an annoyed, slightly pained groan from joel on the toilet. 

You quickly turn your head and a grin grows on your face. “You okay in their honey?” you hear another annoyed sigh.

“Im great doll. Just fuckin’ peachy” the toilet flushed and he opened the door, one  hand on his hip and the other with his hand making a poor attempt at covering his face from her god forsaken camera that was tracking him.

“I'm starting’ to think that getting you that camera was a mistake”

He picked up his tooth brush and paste and squeezed the tube. The thick paste beading at the opening and getting wiped off on the toothpaste 

“Nonesense. Plus, wouldn’t little sarah love to see her mom and dad when they were young?”

She smiled, sitting it down on the counter and showing off  her pregnant belly to the camera. 

“Isn’t that what photos are for?”

He supposedly said. It was hard to tell with all the paste muffling him. 

“It’s the digital age.”

He didn’t dignify your teasing with a response and spit out the toothpaste and washed it all out with tap water. He whipped his lip and kissed your forehead.

“I’m guessing you wanna go somewhere?” he lazily pulled his shirt off and threw it in the hamper and you quickly seized the opportunity to zoom the grainy film all the way in to his chest to his abdomen. A cheeky smirk grew on your face at the sight. 

“It’s for groceries and to get a christmas tree. You can’t help get a christmas tree?” you quickly refuted. You zoom out and walk to window and gracefully pushed the blinds up and focused the camera on the outside. Thick snow covering the trees and the driveway covered in ice, It looked amazing on the camera, even better in real life.

“Y'know you didn’t have to wake me up for groceries, could’ve just gotten them yourself.” he mumbled, pulling the shirt over his head and slipped on his grey sweatpants.

You twirl, the camera becoming unfocuesed and slightly blurry at the abrupt halt as you dragged your foot to stop.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”  You call out before shutting the door.

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Time-12:42

date-3/31/2001

Recording session-27:02:24

The doors to the grocery store opens with the chime of bells accompany it as joel pushed the door with one hand and push the cart with other with your hand over his. 

“What do we really need outta here?” he said, seeming a little more awake then he was on the walk there.

The camera whirled to the fruit section they were first greeted with upon walking in. Focusing on the bright red color of the peppers and tomatoes.

“Tomatoes…cabbages…ribs....thats really it.”

“Simple enough.” he walked to the produce section and started looking through fruit, his hands turing them around and looking at them closely. You followed his hand and zoomed out a little to see his face. And once you noticed you couldn’t help but laugh at that  stupidly serious look on his face. He noticed and looked at you and your camera.

“What- what is it, why are you laughing?”  he said, with his eyebrows furrowingly slightly, making him look confused and annoyed.

“Your face, your so serious all the time baby, lighten up, please.” chucking hard, her hand that was filliming dropping to her side and hooking her arm around his neck and gave him a light kiss. His face warmed slightly in response which promptly earned a smirk from you.

“You’re too unserious.”

“You’re too serious.” the camera raised and a cheeky smile grew on your face “c’mon smile, you’re on film.” 

“Forget it.” he rolled his eyes and he refocused his attention on the fruit,inspecting it and testing the firmness to make sure it’s fresh.

The attention of the camera flew to the bakery and you made your way over. Getting welcomed by the secent of crepes, macaroons, jelly filled donutes, and other various foods. First going to the donuts, bending down to the prettily decorated display. A woman came over from the otherside, sliding the door to the side as her tongs took out the powdered donuts out and slid in a fresh new steaming hot batch with a little star star shaped candy on a stick on the top. Quickly you stood up to grab the young tired tenagers attention.

“Exuse me, ma’m?”

She turned around, and came back over, putting her arms on the top of the glss display. “Yeah?”

“Can I have two dozen of these?” you said, pointing off screen to the cute little pastry

She leaned far over the counter, ridiculously far and caused you to flinch slightly and back up.

She looked at the name plate next to the desert.

“The…fairy dust powdered donut?” she cranked her neck up to look at you.

You nodded. “Yeah those are the ones.”

She gave a quick nod and pulled back to her side, swiftly grabbing the tongs and picked up 24, 12 at at time and placed them in a bag.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“Yeah thats all.” you said,  trying to hide her shock at the womans quickness.

“That’ll be 9.95.”

You dug your hand in your purse and pulled out two fives and handed it to her which she accepted without a word and she gave back some cents.

“Have a good day ms.”

She called and you responded with a nod and walked away.

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Date-3/31/2001

Time-1:42

Recording session- 60:02:37

“Goddamn it, it feels like i spent all day in there.”

Joel sighed as he carried the bags from the store to the train station.

“Well not all day. Just…” you paused briefly. “Around two hours. Average time for a trip.”

He scoffed as he stopped at the platform. He turnt  your camera which he was also holding towards you.

“I don’t need you being a smartass.” he said from behind the camera

“It’s what I do best.” you retort with that stupid smile before turning the opposite direction. Leaning to the right to see the train coming.

“Don’t do that.” he pulled you towards him, unintentionally backing into his chest.

“Why not?” you asking while reeling your head back to look at him.

“Because I don’t want a damn bullet train to speed towards us and rip your head off because you’re being stupid.” he said, not noticing the light reddining on his face.

“Joel, your blushing.” you tease with that damned smile you’ve had on all day.

“Shut the hell up.” he quickly snapped back.

Within a few seconds the train slowly came and opened it’s doors and you quickly went inside with joel following closely behind. You took your seats and it was only when the pair sat down they realized how tired they were from standing. Joel craned his neck down to look at the camera. It was a quite a tooth rotting sight actually. You and joel holding hands on the train with both shoes in frame and yours untied. He sighed and sat the camera down on your lap and bent over to tie your shoes. You look down, slightly confused at what he’s doing.

“...What are you doing?” you mumbled as you looked down.

“Why are your damn shoes always untied is the question.”

“Hey, blame converse not me.” you said as you put your head back and sighed. 

He didn’t say anything back and you didn’t either. The entire train ride for the two was surprisingly quiet, with joel just looking into the grainy footage of the camera the whole time that had been recording the pair the whole time, that you were oh so obsessed with. He didn’t realize just how he was staring at the camera until the train speakers rang out their stop. He turned to you and saw you completely knocked out. He chucked and shoved you awake.

“Hey..” you rubbed your eye and and slowly rised as you noticed a few others on the train were, including joel

“C’mon sleepy head, smile your on camera y’know?” he said, cracking a smile. Which caused you to laugh and lightly shove him.

“Yeah, c’mon.”

[itsoutrageouss]

Like a bellflower - chapter one

chapter one of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction.

warnings: violence, death, blood, the word 'rape', general apocalyptic angst things yk

words: 2,6k

Story taglist

1. A stoic rescue

✿✿✿

“If we don’t find some more fucking ammo soon I swear i’m going to kill someone,” Kade grumbled as we all walked along a broad gravelly road. He bit into the last of his dried meat with anger, ripping the flesh apart aggressively with his teeth. His arm nearly hit me as it swung back. I always stayed behind the four of them. Kade, Ryan, Sarah and Cole. When they found me, and agreed to pick me up along with them I thought I could find solidarity in Sarah. A girl. Or a woman I should say, because she is a lot more woman than me. 

Her shoulders were as broad as the mens, her figure sturdy and hardened like her face. No solidarity was to be found in those eyes. She met me like the men did; looking down at me with clenched jaws, demanding I fix us all food and making mean jokes when I try to brush and fix my hair. 

“That ain’t going to fix nothing sweetheart- how about a trip to the salon instead? It’ll be on me,” Kade would say with a nasty grin and they would all belt out laughter while they tended to their guns like I tend to my hair, with the same kind of care. The kind you should never use on weapons.

“But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue,” I always quote, biting my tongue until metal melts in my mouth.

“You have to calm down, we’re almost at the next town. If there isn’t any ammo, we’ll butcher someone that has some.” Cole replies, walking with fast, tough steps. They were always so hard, so violent. I watched intensely as my feet kicked the gravel. My gun didn’t have a lot of ammo left either but I would rather not have to hurt someone to get more. I’d run if I had to, but I really didn’t. 

The rest of the walk was silent, until old suburban houses started appearing. No one spoke to me. Wordlessly everyone divided to ransack the houses. Cole and Kade went together, so did Ryan and Sarah. Sarah, a dainty, feminine name for a woman with cold, rejecting eyes. No solace. I walked on my own, shoulders slumping. 

The house was a pale blue, the door was off the hinges completely, and I stepped over the rotten wood. Dust swirled in the beams of light that were pushing through barred windows. Someone had stayed here for a while, it looked like. Empty cans of food were piled on the dirty kitchen tiles. When I glanced back at the broken down door, I noticed the beating it had taken. The blood stains that the wood had absorbed. Scratch marks. I didn’t want to think of what had happened here, and instead I filtered through the flashes of sunlight, the warmth pulsing on my cheek. The air smelled like rotten wood too, as well as flowers. They bloomed in the corners of the walls, through broken tapestry they unfolded like nothing had ever bothered them. Like the whole world wasn’t dying. Untouched by the destruction, pretty and blooming. I wished to be like the flower. 

There was no ammo, but in the back cabinets I found old cans of beans that must’ve been forgotten in whatever hurry had happened here. Between the wooden beams that barred the window I saw the others gathering in the middle of the road. Soldiers, they looked like. Machines. They made my skin crawl and every soft thing inside me hardened. I solidified, when everything I fought for everyday was to be soft. Free, fresh and blooming like a flower. A war between me and the world to preserve the delicate human I was, but I felt like throwing it all up when Kade looked at me. He made me feel like he wanted to rape me. His eyes were wide like a drug addict, and his stare a direct look into the most damaged soul I had ever met in my life. I had no clue what his story was and I was terrified to find out. He wanted to hurt the world like it had hurt him and I didn’t want to be here to see it but I had nowhere else to go. 

They talked aggressively to each other, heads bent close together even though there probably wasn't anyone around for miles. I still never got used to seeing people standing in the middle of the roads. The cars were supposed to be there. And now all the cars were flipped upside down and stripped for parts. Sarah crushed a spiring dandelion under her foot. Her black, greasy hair flipped around her head when she talked. The day was beautiful but the people were not. 

We decided to camp there, in the house I found. I found a broken family photo in a bedroom upstairs. I was frozen, sitting on a four poster bed with a family full of strangers in my hand. This room was a memory in time. A photo in itself. If not for the barricaded window, where the sunlight slowly turned red, you wouldn’t be able to tell that life had died everywhere around it. So I stayed there all night. I went downstairs silently, like a child who’d awoken from a nightmare. But there were no parents downstairs, and I crept silently around them to grab a can of beans. Kades big hand squeezed my fragile wrist harshly and the can dropped from my hand. “You’re not taking all of that,” he spoke harshly before opening the can and pouring almost all of the content into an empty one. The rest he gave to me. “Sit down,” he stroked my wrist where he’d hurt me and I coiled away, sitting down reluctantly. I never joined their talk. Ryan was the nicest of them all, though the difference in their behaviors were minimal. They had been just them for so long that Sarah was Ryan and Ryan was Cole and all of them were Kade. Not one authentic trait that wasn’t given to them by the apocalypse. None of their own selves left from before. I pitied it, sort of. When they dozed off in their sleeping bags I snuck back up and crawled under the cold comforter in the bedroom with the photo on the pillow next to me. I tried to imagine living here. With my family, when they were still here. Sleeping next to my parents in their bed even though i probably was a bit too old for it. We wouldn’t tell anyone. Tomorrow we’d make breakfast together, maybe? 

Those thoughts put me to sleep. 

Bang. I woke with such a violent start that my hand flung the photo to the carpeted floor. It was already broken, but now the glass had fallen out of the frame in pieces completely. I had ruined the last memory of this family. Another bang. It was gunshots and the crashes that followed rumbled the old flooring beneath me. Impulsively I ripped the photo from the frame and stuck it in my pocket. I didn’t know how to move. We had never been in this situation. I had never been apart from the group when we were attacked. They were always there and always merciless. I had to fend for myself still, because they prioritized each other over me anytime. Sometimes it was as if they would purposefully let me fight on my own despite them being fully capable of helping me. I swung my backpack on, in case I had to run again. My hands trembled and the gun nearly slipped from my grasp. I creaked open the bedroom door, right at the top of the stairs. “Fucking get him!” I heard Ryan yell. More crashes, grunts. The stairs creaked as I took a step but another noise covered it. Blood sprayed on the wall next to the broken front door. Greasy black hair, fell with a thud to the ground. Blood started to pool around Sarah’s head, which was all of her I could see from this angle. I breathed in. It smelled like being on summer camp. Sunlight, fresh air but a metallic, wooden scent interfered with the peaceful memory. Kane roared and I heard him  surge towards whoever the perpetrator was. I closed my eyes harshly until it hurt, then I opened them and ran down the stairs as the spots faded away from my sight. My gun was stretched in front of me. Everything after that happened so fast I barely caught it. An elbow to Ryan's face who stumbled backwards. To clean shots through Cole's stomach. Bang, bang, thud. Bile rose in my throat. My gun was still in front of me. I didn’t move. I didn’t know what I felt. 

A loud grunt, a missed shot but a punch to the gut from Kade to the stranger. He was hardened too, but not in the cold, menacing way of the others. He looked human, I thought, right before he twisted Kades arm around in a nasty crack, pushing his back into the man's chest before firing a bullet right through his temples. Kade looked at me then, and for the first and only time I saw something else in his eyes. He looked scared. Like a little boy who’d been told off. Who’d been left alone and scolded and shown no love, who now pleaded for it for the last time ever. And then my eyes turned sympathetic. I did everything I could to give him that last piece of whatever feeling closest to affection I had for him and a peace fell over his eyes right as the bullet tore through him. My mouth was sour, and I leaned down, throwing up right next to Sarah’s body. 

The stranger let Kade fall to his knees, discarded him and stalked towards me with a reaction time that seemed inhuman. I expected the harsh, calloused hands of a man piercing my skin. Like Kade’s used to. I dropped the gun. It landed in my own puke. The man stopped between me and the mess. We both looked down. Then we looked up. My eyes were filled with hot, stingy tears from throwing up. Maybe fear. He breathed harshly, quickly and his nostrils flared. His eyes were dark as he looked demandingly underneath his furrowed brows. He had a handsome face, salt and pepper scruff, a hooked nose and sloped lips. But he also was hardened from this world. 

His shoulders fell, quickly aware that I probably wasn’t the biggest threat around. That irritated me, and I squared up, fisting my hands. “Get away or I'll punch you.” I said. There was volume in my voice that I didn't expect. He didn’t move, but looked down on my petty gun again. Then he turned around, and started searching the bodies of my old crew. He took their guns, searched them. I stood still. I was shaking like a leaf and tears rolled down my cheeks now silently. I wasn’t sad for these people. I was sad for the last time this happened. When it was the people I cared for that lay still while I stood up. I cried for them,  tightly fisting the photo of the family I found in my pocket. The man stopped, and looked at me. “I’ll leave some stuff for you,” he said. His voice was gruff. And it hit me like bricks, so hard I nearly folded into two again. I was going to be left alone. The man was looking done, about to leave again. Then there would be silence, like when snow falls. Nothing. 

“Take me with you,” I said, too desperate for my liking but suddenly he felt like the last thing I had in the world even though I didn't even know his name.

“No,” he said, and walked out the backdoor without looking back. I wiped my gun off in Sarah’s shirt, with a little regret but not so much that i felt guilty and followed the man out. He had a horse that was tied to a tree.

“You have to.” i stated, my breathing quick and shallow. I would not let him leave. 

“I don’t, actually.” 

Did he not feel any remorse? What if that was my family he just killed, and then left me for myself. Not even so merciful as to put me in the grave with them? But they weren’t my family and I would not go with them into death, but this man didn’t know. 

“You just killed everything around me.” It wasn’t the first time that had happened and I felt like I was grasping at water, trying to hold it in my hand. I heaved in a gasp of shock and sorrow and it was what finally made him look at me. His brows furrowed even more, if possible. His face softened, and I swore I saw guilt flash across his still-new features. He was listening.

“I’m silent. You won’t even know i’m here. And as soon, I promise, as soon as we come across somewhere else I can stay, I'll leave. But you owe me a ride.” I wasn’t used to selling myself, to making me sound like someone you’d want along on your travels and even though my face heated with embarrassment and the words I spoke, it was all the hope I had not to curl up in that four poster bed until I withered into nothing. 

He said nothing for a while, looking somewhere behind me in thought. I mustered my most desperate eyes. I tried baring my soul through them for him to see that I needed this. He already seemed ways better than any of the four people that had taken me upon since the tragic incident. 

“As soon as we find something.. livable, you’re gone.” he grumbled. The relief made my knees weak, air seeped out of me uncontrollably and I had to hold onto the tree so as to not fall in on myself. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered, tasting tears on my lips that I wiped profusely. I was not to be a burden to this man before I had even gotten onto his horse. 

“Just follow me and stay quiet,” he said, pulling the horse along with him. We walked, and I didn't look back. The blue house I swore to leave forever behind me. The photo I held onto. The sun was only just rising, cold and bright as it stretched over the abandoned houses. We walked in the middle of the road, on each side of the horse. I felt warmth on my skin, on my hair and I combed it down with my fingers and braided it down my back. And no one laughed, or said anything. I realized this might have been my rescue as I looked up at the pine trees ahead, instead of down at the gravel. I looked anywhere I liked and made my hair look nice and I stroked the now curled up photo with my thumb, looking over at the man.

“What's your name?” 

I had already broken one of three rules: stay silent, follow me, leave me alone as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re not very good at this.” 

Even his scolding, and his glare was everything Kades wasn’t. There was no malice, no intention to hurt. I didn’t feel fear in my gut. 

“I’m Belle. Like the princess” I peaked over the horse’s moving body.

“Like bellflowers,” he said, glancing at me for barely a second. Like a bellflower, blooming, delicate and untouched by the world. I wish it was so.

“Joel. My name is Joel”

✿✿✿

chapter two

[ryuzakemo128]

Cara Mia (My Beloved)

Pairing: Billionaire! Joel Miller x Alessia Romano (Joel Miller x F! OC)

Content Warning: Cussing, Angst, no outbreak, post break-up, age gap (Joel is 55-56. Alessia is 28 turning 29), Jealous Joel.

Indirect Character Mention: F! Reader Supermodel(21yrs)

Words: 1021

Summary:

Masterlist Dividers

Note: Mood board is for Alessia Romano. Alessia Romano is an OC. Not a canon character. Sneak peek of Upcoming One-shot with bonus mood board.

Alessia had decided to start up an onlyfans ever since he broke up with her, she needed the extra cash. It was one of the few ways she could earn it without the extra leg work. She spent that entire week getting ready for it, setting up her profile, taking photos and videos, and planning her content.

He broke up with her to go out with a young supermodel. She said go ahead and do it. Just don’t be shocked when I move on from you to someone else better than you.

Was it petty of her to add those last few words? Yes.

Did she care how it impacted him? Fuck no.

Why should she care about him after she ‘set him free’?

Joel decided the best course of action after she disappeared for a week was to yell at her, who remained passed out in her lime green hammock.

“Where the hell have you been?” he roared, the rage boiling within him mixing with the worry that had consumed him during her absence.

“Well. You said fuck off, right?” Alessia answered, causing him to grit his teeth even harder.

She took it literal as possible and fucked off, right after he told her to.

She didn't have a couch in her living room, but she did have a lime green hammock. Not only that, but she must have passed out on it after passing out after four cocktails at the bar.

The television still had The Simpsons playing, the DVDs on her coffee table against the red brick wall, the black curtains shut tight blocking the sun from taking a peek inside.

“You're drunk,” Joel stated, the disbelief in his voice palpable.

“Hungover, it means I was drunk 𝓎𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓎” she corrected him with a smirk, though her voice was groggy, her eyes were still half-closed.

Joel's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to her, the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight. He grabbed the edge of the hammock, giving it a rough shake. “Do you have any idea what I've been through the past week?”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to break up. Don't come walking over to my place because you saw me talking to another guy.” Alessia retorted. “What's the matter, your 21-year-old supermodel girlfriend not good enough for you?”

Alessia groaned as she got up to shove her pyjama top on, a men's graphic t-shirt with marvel heroes plastered over the front of it. The same one she wears to bed most nights. She didn't bother putting her pyjama bottoms back on as she walked into her small, tiny, kitchenette, taking out the leftover pizza from last night to have for breakfast.

“What's your problem?” Joel followed her, the anger still resonating in his voice.

Alessia ignored him to warm up her pizza, getting her leftover soft drink from the fridge and Joel continued to speak, “You're not even sorry? Do you know how worried I was? I called everyone, I looked everywhere!”

“Why the fuck do you care?” She snapped back at him. “You have everything you want. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“I care because you're still important to me, whether you like it or not,” Joel said, his voice cracking.

He slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, making the plates rattle. “I thought something had happened to you. I can't just turn that off because you decided to ghost me after I made a mistake!”

Joel had been told that Alessia started an onlyfans that week, she didn't know how he found or who told him about it. Was it Thomas? Did he tell him? Was it Ellie? Did she do it to spite her? Was it his new girlfriend that told him about it? Who told him? Why did they tell him about it? What did they have to gain from telling him what she was doing now?

Joel spoke up again, much to her dismay, “What's with the onlyfans bullshit, huh? Did you do that to get back at me?”

“No, I did it because I needed the money, and it’s my body, Joel. I can do what I want with it. If it’s not with you, then it’s with someone else. I’m sorry if that bruises your little man ego, but that’s not my problem anymore. You chose the supermodel over me, remember?”

Joel’s jaw tightened as he watched her take a bite of the pizza, the cheese stretching out in a long string. “So, you’re just going to whore yourself out because I made a mistake? That’s your solution?”

“Did I hurt your small feelings? ”Alessia sarcastically remarked. “Did I bruise that pathetic small ego of yours? I have a date this evening, so you better shove off before I call security on your dumb ass.”

A date? Joel was caught off guard by her nonchalant announcement. “You're seeing someone else already?” he asked, his voice laced with both anger and hurt.

“A great guy from where I grew up in Italy.” Alessia answered.

Joel felt a pang of jealousy stab through his chest. “Italy? How long have you been seeing him?”

“He's the guy that helps me with my onlyfans content.” Alessia answered indirectly.

This revelation hit Joel like a ton of bricks. The rage that had been simmering inside him began to boil over. He couldn't believe that not only had she moved on, but she was also flaunting it in his face.

He stepped closer to her, his eyes burning with fury. “You're going to let some stranger film you? After everything we've been through?”

“He is most definitely not the guy filming.” Alessia implied he was the guy acting in said onlyfans content with a smirk on her face, which only added more fuel to Joel's rage.

“You're fucking him?” Joel's voice grew louder, his face contorted into a mask of rage.

“Why do you care?” Alessia walked to her bedroom to get her outfit ready for that evening. “I'm finally moving on. You should be happy for me.” Alessia walked into her closet looking through her black dresses to wear that night.

She finally settled on her A-line black dress with leg slit, batwing sleeves, and bat hem line. She had bought it from a designer store for this exact purpose.

“You don't get it, do you?” Joel followed her, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. “You're not just anyone to me, Alessia. You can't just replace me with some random guy from your past!”

“Watch me.”

[damn-stark]

Chapter 7 Blood on our hands

Tragedy at the Miller’s chapter 7

A/N- someone’s serving c*nt this chapter, so much so that uncle Tommy would be proud. Also there’s one more chapter coming up!

Warning- ANGST, swearing, blood and wounds, violence, long chapter, fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader, OC x fem!reader, Henry x Fem!reader

Episode- 1x09

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

“Y/N, it’s been a long time,” she says with nonchalance as if her men didn’t just attack you. “Sorry—”

“Where are they?” You cut Marlene off without caring whatever was going to come out of her mouth, without trying to be nice in any way because you knew what being here meant. You were once a Firefly after all, and you can’t be naive anymore.

Marlene sighs. “Your dad is a couple floors above, and Ellie,” she pauses briefly, but it’s enough for you to find suspicion. “Is getting prepped for surgery.”

What?

You blink in confusion and probe immediately. “What are you talking about surgery?”

Marlene sighs, and you ignore your throbbing headache to stand up and shoot her a pointed glare. “Marlene?” You press. “What are you talking about? What’s happening to Ellie?”

“I’ve known you since you were young, when your uncle and you joined us to try and better humanity through all the darkness,” she avoids answering your question, only adding concern and making your annoyance begin to grow. “You left, and I can’t imagine it’s been easy. I mean you’re with your dad again.”

You scoff and stop in your steps before you can get closer to her to let her explain what she’s trying to say.

“But I like to think I still know you,” she continues and takes a step closer to you. “That you still have that same hope for humanity that once blazed in you so bright. I mean I used to admire it, wonder how someone so young still held on through it all. You were an inspiration for a lot of us.” She smiles faintly.

As presumptuous as she is you still have no clue what she’s trying to get at with this sweet talking. What does all this have to do with your question about Ellie?

“Marlene,” you interject. “What are you trying to get at?”

Marlene smirks faintly. “There’s hope y/n. All we fought so hard for has finally accumulated to something bigger than ourselves. All the people we lost finally have meaning, it means that we no longer have to lose anyone else to this virus.”

You narrow your gaze, but not out of more confusion, the words she spoke now are beginning to make sense and pointing to one thing, one person; Ellie.

“Our doctor, he thinks that the Cordyecps in Ellie has grown with her since birth. It produced a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps think she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune.”

Okay? So what? Sure you never figured out why exactly she was different, but what does this have to do with anything? Can't they just run their tests and then get what they need, and let you all leave?

She doesn’t have to stay does she? Not if she doesn’t want to?

“He’s gonna remove it from her,” she continues to add, causing you to scoff softly in disbelief at the sound of her words. “Multiply the cells in a lab. Produce those chemical messengers…and then we can give it to everyone.”

It can work? It will work.

Making a cure will work. There was no doubt about that, but what about Ellie? Cordyceps grow in the brain, if they remove it from her that means that…that…Ellie’s life will come to an end? A life for humanity's salvation. And not just any life, her life. The life of the girl that has been like a sister to you, the girl who saved your own life after Henry died, the girl who helped you find the light in the darkness you had gotten lost in after Sarah died. That same girl.

If they get the cure that means Ellie dies….

All this time you believed, truly believed that it was somehow in the blood, that they’d want to keep her with them forever which is why you wanted her to have a choice between staying or leaving, but now; by the sounds of Marlene’s long talk it seems that they don’t want to give her a choice between living and dying.

Should you?

Sam died because of that same damn virus. You’ve had close friends die; good friends. Their deaths will all have meaning. And this is why you came in the first place, to see Ellie off. Life could be a fraction of what you once knew. There can be peace….

You sigh deeply and step back to sit back down on the couch and drop your head, and repeat everything she said to think about the outcomes.

“You can leave,” she adds and continues to approach you. “Now with your dad, we’ll return your packs and guns, give you a car. Or you can stay and see this through with us. Just tell your dad to leave without a fight.”

No matter how you spin things in your mind, it all ends up coming to the same thing, the same person, Ellie.

“What about her?” You finally break your silence and lift your head to meet her gaze.

Marlene swallows thickly and assures you. “We didn’t tell her, we didn’t cause her any fear, and she won’t suffer any pain.”

They didn’t tell her, so what? They don’t need to run more tests? They’re just going to throw her on the medical table and just what? Kill her now?

“Just like that?” You share your thoughts. “No more tests or nothing?”

Marlene shakes her head. “No, the doctor has all he needs.”

You blink rapidly in disbelief, feeling your annoyance and anger heighten.

“So?” You spat. “You’re just going to murder her. You’re not gonna ask what she wants?” You stand up and look at Marlene with a pointed glare, making her step back, and causing a man to push the door open to peek inside. “Immune or not, Ellie is still a human. Have you cared to ask her for her choice? Have you cared to, I don’t know, wait it out? For-for a different alternative,” it slips mindlessly. “One that doesn't involve her to die?”

Marlene lets out a slow deep breath and retorts. “We can’t put the fate of humanity up for gamble for one person.”

It hits you now, like a slap to the face. What good is peace without her? Why did you debate that before? After all Sam and the others are gone already, what good will the cure be for them now?

Sure if giving her life for that hope is something she wants then you won’t fight her, it’s her choice and her choice alone. But if she wants to fight then you’ll fight with her.

“I want to see her,” you blurt and take another step towards Marlene as you can scan the room for your weapons and backpack. “Let me talk to her.”

Marlene’s hopeful look fades away, and annoyance replaces it. “I’m sorry,” she counters. “But I can’t let you do that. It’s going to happen. You can either be a part of it or keep risking your life in this broken world.”

You scoff and take one step towards her. “I just need to give her a choice, humanity has lived through an outbreak for 20 years. I'm sure they can live through a few more minutes, months, years. I don’t care,” you scoff with a scowl on your face and a fury filled glare that makes Marlene uncomfortable. “All I care about right now is her. My dad can take care of himself, you know that.” You smirk. “You know how he is. I know him, he won’t let Ellie die, he’ll fight everyone in this hospital before that happens, but if being the sacrifice is what Ellie wants then I’m the only one who can talk him through it and make him leave without shedding blood. Give me that.”

Marlene holds your gaze and stands in silence as she thinks of what you have to offer.

Yet she doesn’t linger too long and breaks from her stupor to respond back with disappointment in her eyes. “No. And if you’re willing to gamble humanity’s fate then you’re a danger now.” Marlene walks back, and the man walks in with a rifle clung around him and a cuffs in one hand.

You try to swerve past him, but he swings his rifle and smacks your side hard, causing you to stumble and groan, and then letting him grab your wrists to try and cuff your hands together. However, you fight through your sudden pain, and just as he’s about to throw the cuff around one wrist you hastily bite down on his hand hard, causing him to yelp and then let your arm go to slap you across the face with his other hand.

“Y/N! Stop it!” You hear Marlene intervene from the door, but you ignore her and roll your head up to shoot the man a wide grin whilst blood trickles down the cut he made on the corner of your lip, and the blood that trickles out of your nose because of that slap. His face contorts to bewilderment as he holds his hand, so you then slap your hands on his rifle and throw it up to hit him again and again on the face.

Quick footsteps approach thereafter, but you don’t pay attention and instead pull the pistol out of the man’s holster to smack him hard on the head and knock him out. You then spin around on your feet and point your gun at Marlene.

“Had you asked me to give up Ellie a year ago, I would have let you kill her,” you admit. “I was…in a dark place, but I found the one thing that the fireflies are so fond of. I found my own hope; in someone who taught me to love me again,” you smile softly. “Who taught me that it’s okay to love in this cruel world. It’s because of him that my answer changes now. It’s because of him that I let myself love her. I’m sorry you can’t find that.”

The door pushes open and two more armored goons walk in pointing their rifles at you. You try to look for a way through—maybe you can trick them and then slide past them at the last minute to quickly close the door and lock them in—Shooting them won’t work, you shoot one and the other shoots you. You can grab her! That’s right, and threaten her life.

“I'll ask you once more,” you add and fix your stance to get ready. “Let me talk to her. She decides that she wants to do this, then I’ll leave with my dad and never look back. If she says no then well…” you trail off and sigh.

Marlene shakes her head and just as she’s going to say something you kick her knee, making her lose her aim and stumble. You proceed to snatch her gun away from her hand before you kick her down to the ground and point both guns at her.

“Let me pass,” you spat at them and reach down to grab Marlene’s arm and yank her up. “She’s gonna take me to Ellie, I just want to talk.” You press one gun on her back to push her forward as you take one step ahead. “Move or I'll shoot her.”

Both men lift their arms and step aside, letting you keep pushing Marlene forward as you carefully keep walking out of the room. However, just before you can make it out, you manage to hear feet shuffle behind you so you quickly look back, and just as you do, you barely miss one of the man’s knife.

He tries to stab the back of your throat, but you quickly manage to swerve to avoid getting impaled. Albeit the knife still cuts the side of your neck, making you gasp from shock and let go of the guns to grab at your wound that was spilling out blood. You then stumble back and look around in desperation, without knowing what to do.

At the sound of the commotion and lack of gun to her back, Marlene turns around and immediately reacts in shock and anger. “Oh my god,” she gasps, and quickly squeezes her hands on your wound. “Get the fucking first aid! Do you have any idea what you just did?!” She yells at the man who had sliced the side of your neck while she walks you back to the couch. “It’s okay,” she assures you. “Well stitch you up, you’ll be fine.”

“But,” one of the men stammers.

Marlene snaps her head back and spats back. “Do you have any idea what her father is capable of? You’re lucky you didn’t kill her. God only knows what he’d do if you did.” She looks back at you as you’re sitting in shock and shoots you a pointed glare. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re still dangerous, and the only reason I’m not killing you is because of Tommy.”

You try to scoff to counter her, but you’re too scared that any ragged breath or any big breath will make more blood spill out, so you just sit still and catch the man coming in hesitantly with first aid supplies.

However, instead of having Marlene help stitch up your gash, she makes the man do it since she gets up and instead hooks the cuffs around your wrists before you could put up a fight again.

“I’m sorry,” she takes advantage of your silence. “I really wish we could’ve seen eye to eye on this.” She turns to to leave, but you stop her with your interjection.

“My dad,” you whisper to not add too much strain on your neck while the man stops the bleeding. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Marlene sighs. “Let’s just say I don't have the same mercy for him that I have for you.”

——

*NOT MUCH LATER*

Clinking metal echoes out, again and again. Clink.

Clink.

Clink. And clink.

Due to the fact that you’re restrained, weaponless, and have a gash on the side of your neck, making your next move has been slow. You’ve been trying to have hope that Marlene will come to her senses and let Ellie have her choice, because after all it’s her life they’re trying to sacrifice without consent. But in all your waiting there’s been nothing.

You can’t even count on your dad to come through that door in peace, he cares too much about Ellie without a fight, and unless it’s all been some act then you know he won’t agree to Marlene’s choice either. Not unless you talk to him, but that’s impossible now that Marlene thinks of you as dangerous. So what to do?

What to do?

Beg?

Won’t work.

Yell?

No.

You can’t just sit here either and wait it out, your dads life is at risk considering Marlene hinted that she wouldn't hesitate killing him, Ellie’s life is also at risk with only so little time left to get to her and let her decide what she wants before they murder her. So what is there left to do?

You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought of letting the doctors just make the cure without asking Ellie what she wants, because it has. Mainly because of Sam’s fate, but what sister would you be if you didn’t try to at least fight for her?

What the fireflies want is understandable, a future, a cure! But the way they want it isn’t right, it’s murder! Ellie deserves a choice. No matter how much love you harbor for her, no matter how selfish you want to be, you want it to be her choice; If she wants to live her life she can, if she wants to be salvation…she can. So how can you give that to her before they murder her?

You look at the door and keep banging your cuffs against the cabinets harder in hopes they’d get annoyed and come in so you can talk to them, but they don’t react, leaving you with the one option you didn’t want to commit. Violence.

With what?

You look down at your hands—-choking them won’t be enough, so you keep looking until you see one small object, a pen left on the desk.

Press hard enough and a pen can be stabbed in a person's eye, or a throat deep enough to end their life. It can work.

Then again you have no other choice but to use it…

You exhale and push yourself off the couch to snatch the pen off the desk and tuck it in your sleeve before you walk to the door and begin pounding it. “Hey!” You call for their attention as loud as you can without using too much muscle on your neck. “Hey! Please! I need help! Please, it's my stitches!” You stop and wait.

But nothing.

“Hey,” you keep begging as you keep hitting the door. “Come on, it’s my stitches, my neck is bleeding! Ima bleed to death!” You slam your forehead against the door and listen.

This time you hear feet shift before keys jingle and the door knob begins to turn, causing you to step back behind the door. The guard then opens the door slowly and steps in.

“Hey,” she immediately notices that you’re nowhere to be seen, so before she can make more commotion you push the door closed. The guard gets startled and immediately spins around to face you, but she only catches your threatening scowl before you lunge towards her and swing your cuffed fists up her jaw, and then slam down on her nose before you kick her down, and lastly slam your foot on her face again.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” you share ironically. “Take me to Ellie with no bloodshed, or…” you trail off and let her guess what comes after that threat.

The guard narrows her gaze and lets go of her gun to slowly lift her arms to show her willingness.

However, that’s what she wants you to believe because just as you’re about to move your foot, she suddenly swings her boot up and kicks you in the back, just on the end of your tailbone. You proceed to quickly stumble back in silence in order not to alert whoever is out in the hall. The guard then counters her own move by swinging her leg under your feet and tripping you.

You fall on your back, and the pen you hid in your sleeve slides back out of reach. The guard then gets off the ground, so you don't linger in your pain and flip around just as she reaches for her gun.

The pen manages to slide back down to your hand, luckily, so since the guard has orders not to shoot you, you let her approach you, you let her grab your arm to try and yank you up. But just as she gets you on your feet, you draw in a deep breath as you clench your jaw, and then swiftly twist your upper body around and use as much force as you can muster to stab the pen on the side of her neck.

The guard immediately lets go of her weapons and begins to choke on her own blood. Luckily since the pen goes in deep enough she can’t scream so she doesn’t alert anyone, she just gurgles as she falls on her knees. All while you exhale and step back from her to just watch her fall as she chokes on her own blood.

“I just need to give her a choice,” you mutter to the dying guard as if trying to reason her death. “You had yours.” You swallow thickly and reach down for the keys to quickly get out of the cuffs, you then grab her body and flip her around to lay her on her back.

“For whatever it is worth I am sorry,” you murmur as you watch her take her last breath.

She made her choice. She chose to fight, so you fought back….

So before anyone else can come you take her coat off her body. It has fresh blood on the front, but it’s not too much, plus you just need it to get out of here without gaining unwanted attention—

“Shots fired!” You get startled by the sound of a static voice coming from a walkie clung on her belt loop. “Shots fired on level 4! All able bodied personal come to level 4!”

Shit. Shit.

It has to be, there’s no one else who has the balls to shoot up the fucking hospital.

Your dad took action already. Fuck! Fuck.

Quickly you zip up the coat and throw on the hood to cover as much of your face as you can. You then reach down for the guards gun and realize it’s your fucking rifle!

Do people think it’s something that can just be passed around?! Fuck her.

Regardless, you step over her body and stop just in front of the door to listen as footsteps run past the room to reach level 4.

However, all except one stops. “Miranda!” They knock on the door. “Marlene says to keep the girl there!”

The person goes quiet, and your heart begins to pound in your ears as the terror that hits you paralyzes you.

You look at the end of the doorway to watch their shadow, and hold your breath as they wait.

“Did you get that Miranda?!” They question.

You slowly begin to raise the gun and point it at the door as you keep your gaze on the end of the door.

There should be no one else out there, the gunshot will mix with the ones you now hear in the distance, so no one will come running. No one will find her until you’re gone.

Therefore, you reach one hand for the knob to open the door and just shoot. But luckily the person runs off, letting you sigh with relief and hang the gun around your shoulder to instead wait until you can’t hear her footsteps anymore to then open the door.

And just in case anyone is out in the hall you make a sharp turn out of the room and head to the elevators for faster transportation so your dad doesn’t do any further harm, before he steals that choice from Ellie.

Moreover, when you do walk outside you spot your backpack on the desk, so you quickly side step towards it to keep your back turned against the hall behind you, and quickly snatch it from the counter.

There’s no questions as to your actions, no other noises, so it must be clear. You don’t want to check either, so you take advantage of the silence in this hall and stride directly towards the elevator. You then wait for a second and when there continues to be nothing you quickly press on the up button, hear the ding from the sign above and wait with your hand around your gun strap.

When the elevator gets to your floor you draw in a nervous breath, and reach for your necklace, but find your neck bare since your dad still has them. Or at least you hope. You haven’t really paid much attention to his neck. There’s been too much on your mind since leaving the resort.

Regardless, as the elevator slowly begins to open you leave your gaze on the ground until there’s enough room for you to walk in.

Albeit, when you look up to walk in the elevator, you don’t end up moving since you catch Marlene inside. Fuck! Fuck!

You rapidly raise your gun to point it at Marlene, but she’s fast too and raises her pistol to point at you too.

“Put the gun down y/n,” Marlene orders with her gun pointed at your chest. “Now.”

You raise your chin, and ignore her threat and her gun to hold her gaze.

“Put the fucking gun down, or I will shoot you.”

You narrow your gaze on her and hold your ground without saying a word.

“This attitude is why you made a perfect firefly,” she mutters and takes a careful step towards you. “That's why I know you won’t be stupid right now.”

You quirk up a brow and shoot her a smirk so she can try you.

And Marlene does, she reaches for your gun, but you don’t hesitate to hit the trigger either.

However, she’s quick, she’s smart. She catches your action and slaps her hand around your wrist to quickly twist it up so the bullet instead makes a dent on the ceiling.

You yelp as she keeps your shooting arm twisted, and Marlene proceeds to disarm you and then shove you back to the wall behind you to point the gun on your head.

“I also know your dad,” she interjects through gritted teeth, and yanks you off the wall to push you ahead of her so you’ll be facing the elevator doors that close now as the sign above glows. “He won’t leave without you. So why not wait for him here?”

She presses her gun at the back of your head and keeps your hand twisted, bringing a writhing pain that makes your eyes water and doesn’t let you fight back. She forces you to wait there outside of the elevator doors because just like she expected the elevator comes to a stop on the floor you’re on.

Part of you hoped that it wasn’t actually him, that he didn’t actually kill Ellie’s choice. The people well, their deaths are tragic but they’re not that significant, it’s her that you care about the most—So that part of you, the part that cares, also wants it to be him too because it also meant that he saved Ellie from being killed. But you mostly hope it’s not him.

You lower your gaze to avoid seeing the person behind the doors out of that same anxiety. When you watch the doors open all you can see is boots, boots you’ve seen on one person for months. It’s him. Yet you still don’t face him, besides now that deep rooted feeling of shame begins to seep back due to the situation you’re stuck in.

“I’ll give you a choice, Joel,” Marlene doesn’t hesitate to output and twists your arm more, causing you to cry out softly, and making your dad step out of the elevator at the sound of you in pain.

“Leave with Ellie and watch your daughter die,” Marlene continues to say her bargain. “Or save your daughter, leave with her, and leave Ellie behind.” She presses the gun harder against your head, and you now slowly lift your eyes, noticing Ellie unconscious in his arms, confirming what you were afraid he’d do, what you couldn’t stop. You then lift your gaze to his face and notice his hardened glare focused on Marlene.

He then feels your stare and shifts his gaze to meet yours, making you, at that moment feel that same shame heighten in you to the point you break. “I’m sorry,” you mutter through thick tears. “I’m sorry, dad.” You shake your head, and notice his eyes soften as hears your unneeded apology. “It was my fault, I’m sorry.”

Your dad shakes his head to assure you of the opposite, he’s going to speak, but then Marlene interjects. “She’s your only daughter Joel. Real daughter. Your little girl. Ellie is nothing to you but cargo, take y/n. I’ll give you a car and weapons,” she offers in exchange even after you assume he killed the other fireflies; considering that none of them have joined you on this floor—“Give me Ellie, wait for the cure to be distributed and live a happy life. Watch y/n have the life she wants, watch her have an actual career, watch her get married, have kids. She will no longer have to suffer, isn’t that what you want? What every parent wants?” She asks. “Doesn’t she deserve that?”

Not if it means murdering Ellie, that’s clear to you even if your own life is on the line. You would never live in peace knowing that you let them kill her without her choosing her own fate, or without saying goodbye.

“And doesn’t Ellie deserve a choice?” You retort in annoyance. “You think of yourself as so high and mighty, but you can’t fathom the thought of letting Ellie choose for herself.”

“To do what?” Marlene redirects and sways to the side. “You can’t keep her safe forever. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she’s gonna grow up. And then you’ll die. She’ll leave. Then what? How long till she’s torn apart by infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that the two of you could have saved.”

You drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes and try to move your hand, but she squeezes her grip tighter, causing you to groan and drop your head. Albeit, that’s when you notice a chance to get out of this position and bring an end to this choice your dad shouldn’t have to make.

You can’t give it away right away though. You wait for the right moment, and instead listen to your dads response. “Maybe. But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you,” Marlene counters. “So what would she decide, huh? ‘Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right. And you know it.”

Yeah, because she was so for giving Ellie a choice. Bullshit.

It’s why you choose to go on with your plan now. She’s distracted currently so you lift your gaze and tilt your head to the side, catching your dads attention right away. So as soon as he meets your gaze you point your eyes to your side.

Luckily your dad is smart and doesn’t miss your speechless hint, he actually looks down, letting you point out the chance you have, the one you caught; Marlene's exposed side after she swayed to the side.

As to not give anything away though, your dad returns his gaze back to Marlene, and you stay where you are and wait.

“It’s not too late,” Marlene adds and now loosens her grip around you. “Even now…even after what you’ve done. We can still find a way.”

Your dad killed all the others by the sound of all those gunshots that rang, and the lack of guards that didn't come down. He probably killed the surgeon, so as much as you want—wanted Ellie to have her own choice, it seems that now….well that is probably unlikely. So why make your dad make this choice between her and you?

There’s no other choice now but to get out of here, the three of you.

Hence why you gave him the hint, it’s why you shift slightly as Marlene lets go of your wrist as she thinks your dad has made up his mind, and watch him lift his pistol he holds under Ellie’s legs to hit the trigger without hesitation.

The feeling of the bullet passing right by you makes you tense, and the sound makes you lift your hands to try and cover your ears, but luckily it doesn’t hit you. The bullet hits Marlene directly, causing her to drop her gun off your head as she falls to the ground.

You want to look back at the outcome, you also want to see if anyone would come, but your dad grabs your hand and pulls you in the elevator right away. You only catch a glimpse of Marlene on the ground with blood beginning to spill on the white hospital floor before the elevator doors close to begin moving down.

“Are you okay?” Your dad finally has the chance to ask.

You glance at Ellie still unconscious and make sure she’s breathing whilst you want to counter with questions. But there’s no time now and well, it’s not hard to guess what he did, so instead you just assure his worry. “Yeah, some fucker sliced my neck, but it wasn’t deep enough. I got off lucky. And my hand,” you say and look down at your throbbing wrist. “It’ll heal. She didn’t break it.” You then look over at him and look at him up and down to take in his dirty appearance, his worried look decorating his features, and want to question him, but the doors then open to the garage.

And right away you both walk out and search for a car to use. Thankfully, it’s not hard to find a usable car across the lot that’s getting its battery charged.

“There,” your dad points to the black car you had also spotted. “Help me get her inside,” he adds and walks off quickly, while you blink to look at the elevator doors closing past your shoulder to think about what you couldn’t prevent. What you couldn't give Ellie. And if there’s still a possibility to give her that.

After all, she went through so much to get to this hospital, and all for what? For a short trip she won’t remember because they drugged her, because he took her away?

“Y/N, come on, open the door for me.” Your dad breaks you from your train of thought.

“Yeah,” you say, and then look away from the elevator doors to jog over to where he's waiting to open the door for him.

With no other choice left now, you watch him lay Ellie down in the back. When he steps back you take off the stranger's coat you had as a disguise and put it over her legs.

At least she’s alive; you think to yourself as you step back and grab the door. Pushing everything else aside, at least she’s still here with you.

You sigh softly and begin to push the door close, but that’s when you hear a loud thump on the ground. And you know it’s not your dad because he’s by the hood of the car trying to get it ready, so you proceed to close the car door and look over at him.

Your dad meets your gaze with his usual furrowed brows and points to the car hood that’s still open. “Come get the car goin’.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, but you begin walking over to where he is as he turns and walks away from the car. Once you reach the front of the car you see that Marlene had somehow dragged herself down even as she bled out.

Albeit, she’s not in a good shape, getting down here took all her energy, she’s now coughing out and gasping on the ground. However, you do have to give it to her for trying. She’s a true firefly through and through.

“No,” she groans out as your dad reaches her. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.”

You close the hood of the car, and since you might need to make a hasty escape you walk to the drivers side.

“Please,” you hear Marlene whisper between pants. “Let me go.”

You open the car door and get in without trying to fight for her. Why would you? There’s nothing left, he made sure of that. And you love your dad too much to be against him, no matter what wrongs he’s done—what wrongs he will do.

“You’d just come after her,” he mutters to Marlene, and you watch him lift his gun as you close the door.

And once again without a sliver of hesitation he shoots her, this time he makes sure to kill her right away. Now there’s truly nothing left. Now…home.

Thankfully now the way home won’t take months. Of course you didn’t make it back home before your birthday like you promised your uncle Tommy; your birthday actually passed while you were on the road, but Maria should still be pregnant in two days.

However, it’s the silence, the awkward silence that fills the car that will make this car ride eternal, especially since you’re not driving anymore. There’s so many questions you need to ask, complaints you want to throw at him over what he did, but you can’t do that with Ellie passed out in the back, she can wake up at anytime, so you let the silence build and just watch the city pass and smile at the sight of the lush green forest.

You hoped that the silence would stay to avoid spilling everything, but your dad breaks it. “You know, back there…” he pauses, letting you push your head off the window you’re leaning against to look at him—“…I wouldn’t have let you die,” he shares with a brief glance at you.

You can’t help your smile and nod softly. “I know,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He questions with a slightly concerned look. “I just didn’t want to let you think that I would—”

“Daddy, I know,” you cut him off quietly.

Your dad holds your gaze for a brief second with this soft look, and lets out a relieved sigh before he focuses back on the road and you focus back on the passing green trees.

“Can you promise me something?” Your dad breaks the silence once again.

You blink and slowly meet his gaze again, but don’t answer so he continues. “Don't tell Ellie what I did back there, she doesn’t need to know.”

What? That he didn’t give her a choice? That he snatched that from her after knowing how much it meant to her? Lie about that to her?

You blink rapidly in disbelief and avert your gaze.

“Just let her believe none of it worked and that they’re all gone. Can you do that for me?”

Siblings are meant to have secrets with each other that the parents aren’t aware of. Not a sibling and a parent, it never ends well.

“For how long?” You murmur.

Your dad sighs. “For however long it needs to be kept a secret. She doesn’t need to know. Ever.”

You let out a deep exhale and turn your head to face him and answer, but then Ellie begins to groan, giving away her slow rise back to consciousness.

“What?” She says as you hear her move back there. And as to not give anything away, to not let her see any emotions, you rest your head on the window and close your eyes to pretend to be asleep.

“It’s all right. You’re with me,” your dad assures her. “Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“Y/N?” She asks, causing you to swallow thickly out of guilt.

“She’s fine, she’s…sleepin’.” He says to her.

You hear Ellie move some more before continuing to speak. “I was with Fireflies and then—what drugs?”

“They were runnin’ some tests on you…” he lies to her. “And some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you…”

No. No.

“…people that are immune.”

Why does he have to say that?

“Dozens of ‘em,” he continues to add to the lies. “And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually—they’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.”

Let’s hope she believes him now.

“Where are my clothes?” She asks with no clue as to if she does believe him.

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there,” he responds. “We’ll find you some new ones on the way.”

“Were people hurt?” She asks.

There’s a moment of silence before he answers with an actual truth. “Yes.”

“Is Marlene okay?”

You clench your hands at the sound of her worry, at the sound of her soft tone. Yet you don’t feel regret for letting Marlene die, no, just that Ellie’s been lied to.

“I’m takin’ us home,” your dad avoids answering her question, but that gives her insight as to what she wanted to know. No.

It’s because of his non answer that you hear her turn around, letting him add one more genuine thing. “I’m sorry.”

Let’s hope she does believe him.

——

*LATER. WYOMING*

The air smelled like home, it made you eager to actually be home; to see your uncle Tommy, Maria, your friends, to just be home. But you’re still a few hours away from actually getting home thanks to the fucking car that broke down!

Albeit at least it didn’t break down earlier and made this trip any longer.

“Well,” your dad breaks the news. “She got us close enough.” He closes the hood of the car, and you turn around to kick a rock and groan in annoyance.

“We gotta walk the rest of the way,” he adds as you hear his footsteps recede from the hood of the car. “Probably about a five-hour hike…but we can manage that. Remember?”

You peer back to see Ellie’s reaction, but the sun hitting the windshield blocks the view, only letting you hear what you assume is slight joy. “Yeah.”

“You ready over there?” Your dad directs his question to you as he steps away from the car to begin walking towards you at the front of the car.

You groan and look at the path ahead. “I’m so ready,” you feign a smile. “I’m eager.”

Your dad falls by you and scoffs. “It’s not long now. We’ll make it there by lunch time.” He shields his eyes and sighs. “I think Maria might kill me this time. With her look alone.”

You laugh. “Nah. I'm comin’ back home in one piece….but maybe once she’s had her baby she will.”

Additional footsteps approach you, so you break away from the spot you had stood at and begin treading that five hour hike.

“All for what?” Your dad quips in a lighthearted tone. “That little cut? Please.”

You shrug. “She’s protective of me, but regardless, rest assured I brought her a bribing present and a heartwarming apology.” You look over your shoulder and smile widely. “I’m still very good at cryin’ on cue, that wins her over.”

Your dad flashes you a smile before looking back at Ellie as she’s lingering behind the two of you. “You shoulda seen her when she was a little girl, she was so dramatic that she learned how to shed the best crocodile tears. Always knew how to get me to do what she wanted.”

“Still can,” you look back at her and wink. “It’s all in the eyes.”

Ellie lets out a soft scoff and nods without saying anything, she stays quiet like she has been for the best couple months, since she’s woken up. But you can say you understand why she’s behaving as such, you’d be quiet too if suddenly that hope to be humanity’s savior was snateched from you without knowing what really happened, and only being able to hear the events from someone else.

She doesn’t deserve to feel such a heavy sorrow, she deserves to be happy, to feel all the lows and highs of being a teenager without such a heavy burden or such a broken heart. So that’s probably the only good reason why….you haven’t told the truth, why it doesn’t bother you that your dad killed everyone in the hospital and stole away her choice out of a selfish act of love. Because if she knew, she’d only know betrayal and even deeper agony that would break her. You want to protect her from feeling that because you know what those feelings bring, darkness.

It’s too bad you couldn’t actually prevent the risk of having her feel it….

Nevertheless, the walk is long, but not hard since it isn’t too hot and the wind is graceful. There is conversation so it isn’t always quiet, but it’s always mostly between your dad and you, Ellie just remains quiet most of the time. The hike isn’t filled with obstacles either, nor with danger, so it’s easy. The only thing that was pesky was your eagerness to get home that’s heightened the closer you get.

“You know, Sarah, y/n, and I used to hike like this all the time,” your dad breaks the silence that had filled your small group, making you smile softly and peer back at him.

“I wouldn't say it was her favorite thing,” he continues. “She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber…or scampering. That’s probably the right word. That girl…she’d see a big rock, and just…pew.”

You grin and try to recall memories, but nothing comes to mind.

“What about y/n?” Ellie probes, causing you to turn around to face your dad as if that will make a difference.

“She was a little girl so when she wasn’t clung on my back she was on a little red wagon. Besides, y/n she liked more of the water activities, swimmin’, she liked to help me and Tommy fish.” He shoots you a small smile. “Actually one time she helped me unhook a fish and…”

Oh this story, yes, you remember it clearly. How funny…

“She actually,” he says between laughs. “Got smacked by the tail. Right on the face,” he points to his own face. “It left a mark for days, I could not get her to stop cryin’.”

“Nor could uncle Tommy stop laughin’,” you grumble and turn back around. “He still does by the way. Never lets me live it down. Especially when he’s drunk, “oh do you remember when you got slapped by a fish, Sunny,” you mock his voice. ““So there was this one time….” Pft,” you blow out air.

“It’s too funny to let you live it down,” your dad teases.

You shoot him back a pointed glare and feign a dry laugh.

“No, but,” your dad continues. “Sarah woulda liked you, Ellie.”

You sigh and lose your annoyance to smile softly again.

“Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different.”

“How so?” Ellie chooses to investigate that comment.

“Well, she was a lot more…I wanna say girly. And I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly,” he tries to assure Ellie.

“I’m not,” she quickly rebuttals.

“Yeah, you’re not,” your dad agrees. “So that,” he chuckles. “She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not sayin’ that you don’t,” he assures her. “But you know why I think she’d like you?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh.”

You look back and nod in agreement.

“Anyway,” your dad continues after Ellie’s silence. “I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

You look back ahead and hear Ellie agree. “Yeah, bet I would've.”

You smile softly at her response and can’t help but imagine having Sarah here. It’s hard to say how she would’ve been like considering she would’ve been, what? In her thirties, but you know she’d be happy to have Ellie, to have a different dynamic in your little family considering Ellie is different from you too. Plus, she would’ve liked that Ellie could make your dad smile, you know you do.

Regardless, as you continue leading the way, your smile quickly breaks into an excited grin as you spot a clearing just past the end of the tree line, finally. So without hesitation you break into a sprint to the end, knowing what lies just beyond the end woods and at the top of the green hill.

“Y/N!” Your dad calls out. “Careful!”

Disregarding his warning you maneuver through the tree branches in the way, you duck under a fallen tree stuck on another, and only feel your enthusiasm make your heart pound faster. You don’t stop running until finally you see it in the clear and green horizon, home. Finally, after what’s been a difficult couple months, complete and utter happiness fills your heart.

“There it is,” you point out with a happy grin as Ellie and your dad catch up. “Home,” you let out with a relieved sigh.

From on top of this spring hill, Jackson is a lot larger than you thought of it being. It’s big, but it only means it’s full of people, it’s a small reminder of humanity without the monsters.

“Yeah,” your dad agrees. “Not much further now.”

You try to squeal out of joy, but that hurts to do because of your wound, so you just keep grinning as you continue walking ahead beside your dad now.

“Hey, wait,” Ellie calls out, making your dad stop right away, and making you slow down before stopping a few paces ahead of him.

“Fuck,” you catch Ellie whisper, causing you to shift around and catch her fall in front of your dad to continue. “Back in Kansas City you asked me about the first time I killed someone.”

Your smile falls, and a pit in your heart begins to grow as you feel nothing good coming from what she’s saying.

“When I got bit in the mall, I-I wasn’t on my own. My best friend was there,” she sniffles. “And she got bit, too. We didn't know what to do, and she says, “we can just wait it out…”

Oh god…no. You knew it, nothing good.

“….be all poetic and just lose our minds together.” And then she did. And I had to—“ she pauses, but it’s not hard to decipher what she meant, what she had to do—she had to kill her friend. “Her name was Riley…and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess….”

Wait. What? Yes you knew something might’ve happened to not see her with your dad, but you never…you never came to the conclusion that she was dead. You never asked either, but you never—that never came to mind.

Fuck.

You never got to know her well, but from what your uncle Tommy said about your dads life from the messages they’d send through radio before, Tess was in his life for a long time. Damn….

It’s not sad news for you, but it’s surprising that’s all.

“…and then Sam,” Ellie adds, making you now drop your gaze to the wild flowers around your feet.

“That's not on you,” your dad interjects.

“I know, but—”

“Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope,” your dad cuts Ellie off. “You can feel…like you’ve come to an end….and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’…you find something new to fight for.” He glances at you, and you offer him a very faint smile.

“And maybe that’s not what—”

“Swear to me,” Ellie cuts him off abruptly. “Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.”

You swallow thickly out of guilt, but hide your emotions well in the flowers around you just in case Ellie is trying to read you too.

“I swear,” you hear your dad lie with no remorse.

A moment of silence passes, a heavy silence you feel immediately, so you look up and catch Ellie’s furrowed brows, pointed gaze, and unrelieved look before she nods and mutters softly. “Okay.”

It doesn’t sound convinced though, you can tell that, you can see her glistening eyes. You can see a shift in her look. What should be a relieving moment seems to be filled with tension. Yet you don’t know how much she believes, or if she’s just disappointed by the answer, but you can tell that there’s a rift between her and your dad now. Her look alone gives that way. After all, you've once looked at him like that too; same narrowed glare, same long frown, and disappointed look.

What would Sarah do? You can’t help but think now, at this very moment as you remember her by looking at the pretty flowers that decorate the green hill. Would she go against your dad and tell her the truth, or hide it like you are now and carry the burden of the truth for her sake, for the purpose of not seeing her heartbreak. Would she risk her relationship with Ellie, the trust, for her own sake?

You look at Ellie and watch her turn away from your dad to finally continue walking home. You then look at home, and then at your dad as he stops by you without saying anything.

After all she’s been through…

You watch her again and sigh with tears beginning to sting your eyes.

….you can’t break her heart. You can’t do that to her. You’ll carry the burden for her sake, for his sake as well.

Yet it doesn’t mean he won’t hear what you have to say, the disappointment you feel for his choices, he’ll hear it, just not now. So you shove away your need to cry and bring back the happiness you felt for returning home. You break away from your dads side without a word, only a guilty look, and trot down to join her side.

You hoped it’d be a quiet walk, but she surprisingly breaks it.

“So what? Are you happy to see your lover boy?”

You blink rapidly in disbelief and scoff softly before you retort. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Ellie shoots you a faint smirk. “That guy you were batting your eyelashes at when we first got to Jackson.”

You scoff and roll your eyes in annoyance, but you’re actually left speechless.

“What?” She quips. “Just ‘cause you lost one boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t get another. I mean isn’t that how life works?”

You squint your gaze on her in slight disbelief to what she’s saying and actually interject now. “Where is this comin’ from? Huh?” You tease her. “Is this, like, dating advice?” You quirk a brow and smirk.

Ellie’s lips begin to pull to a smile and she shrugs. “I’m just saying I mean it’s not like your dad is going to give you this kind of advice.”

“Oh, and you will, a 14 year old?”

“15 now,” she corrects you.

“Whatever,” you quip. “Same thing.”

“Well,” Ellie sighs. “I'm just saying. Are you happy or not?”

You avert your eyes and shrug. “I guess it depends, doesn't it?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “But if it doesn’t work out then you can always date Henry’s ghost for the rest of your life.”

You giggle and shake your head.

“Or we can do shit like—”

“Become astronauts and fly to the moon?” You cut her off with a smile.

Ellie meets your gaze and nods. “Yeah. We can do that.”

You nod softly. “We'll see then. Who knows you might beat me and meet someone first. There’s boys and girls your age there.”

Ellie shrugs and huffs out. “We’ll see. I like the moon idea. We could…live in a space station over earth, go to the moon whenever we want and not have to worry about anything down here.”

You look at the green path ahead and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I like the sound of that. It’d be a killer view too.”

“Just you and me,” she whispers.

——

“It’s just you and me now, Sunny,” he mutters over the sound of the pattering rain.

You sigh deeply, and watch the rain fall over the patch of green forest below the hill with a sad frown, with an ache in your heart that was left when your dad left you.

“Yeah,” you whisper and glance up at your uncle Tommy with a small smile.

He meets your gaze and offers you a wider smile that he tries to use to assure you. You hold his gaze for a second before you drop your head and look at the wet grass beneath your feet with deep sorrow in your heart.

It’s not so weird that you came back to this moment in your mind, Ellie’s words triggered them to reappear. Nor is it weird that you couldn’t stop thinking of it until now, until you saw your uncle Tommy. Your home.

“Uncle Tommy!” You exclaim before you throw your arms around his neck with a happy grin on your lips.

“Sunny,” he whispers softly by your ear as he hugs you back with more force.

Being apart this time wasn’t as long as before, but months still feel eternal, and well no one knows what can happen to anyone so seeing him even after a few days is a delight.

“You said a month,” he remarks. “You missed your party.”

You sigh and pull back to face him and talk back, but he catches the bandage over your wound on the side of your neck, and his face expression contorts with concern.

“I’m okay,” you quickly assure him as he turns your head so he can take a better look. “I’ll be okay. It’s not deep. You.” You pull back and grab a hold of his hands with a tight squeeze as you grow worried. “The baby?”

A smile once again breaks on his features and he shakes his head. “Not born yet.”

You clasps your hands together and squeal with happiness. At least you didn’t miss that.

“Good, I’m glad,” you retort and step back to let your dad greet his brother.

“You’re still alive,” your uncle teases your dad whilst you twist around and search the patrol group that had come out to greet you before you could reach the gate.

This time around since Maria is heavily pregnant she isn’t one amongst them, neither is Apollo or his dog Achilles….hm. Hopefully, they’re okay.

Something else that changed this time around was the confrontation, it wasn’t hostile or full of terror since now you know the dog won’t detect the cordyceps on Ellie. And since your uncle was out here, your dad nor Ellie’s intentions were questioned, leading you to actually get home quicker this time.

And just like before, when you walk past the gates you’re taken aback by the liveliness of it all. Snow didn’t cover the ground, and the holiday decorations didn’t decorate the town, but the sky was clear, the sun was softly shining from above, and the town was full of color due to the colorful flowers that now replaced the holiday decorations.

“Okay, but don’t think you guys are off the hook,” you interject as you let your shoulders fall, and rest your head on the horse your uncle let you ride home so you wouldn't be on your feet any longer. “I still want my birthday party. Birthday week!” You exclaim. “I have it all planned.” You say and throw your hands out dramatically.

Your uncle grins softly. “Do ya know?” He retorts.

You hum in agreement and nod as you meet your dads gaze now too. “First day, bam, breakfast outside, fancy dress code, pancakes, coffee, fruit, chocolate chip cookies, eggs. Second day…” you trail off and gasp softly as the sight of Apollo walking out of the school his father taught at, catches your eye.

For a moment it’s only him you see amongst the crowd of people, time even seems to pass by in slow motion even if your heart begins to race as you watch him walk down the street. He doesn’t spot you since you’re sort of in the middle of the walking-in crowd, and his eyes are just focused on the ground.

“Apollo!” You yell out even if that hurts the muscles on your neck, and proceed to shoot up before you throw your leg over the horse to slide off sloppily since you’re hardly paying attention. “Apollo!” You yell out again and this time catch his attention and cause him to stop in his tracks.

You almost fall when your feet hit the ground, but you don’t pay any mind—Your dad does though. “Jesus Christ, y/n, careful.”

“There she goes,” Ellie comments as she watches you maneuver past the horses.

“Apollo!” You keep yelling out your friend's name with glee. “Apollo! Apollo!”

Said man's lips spread to a beaming grin and he doesn’t hesitate to also break into a sprint. “Y/N!” You hear him shout.

And before you know it, once all the barriers of space are broken you meet halfway and hop to throw your arms around him.

Apollo doesn’t falter and grabs onto you with all his might. You proceed to giggle and dig your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his fresh and clean scent, and feeling like yourself again; no guilt for what you had to hide, no fear, nothing bad, just ease and joy. The feelings make you linger in his arms for a moment longer until you have to pull away.

“Did you just back?” He asks with an awed smile.

You nod and keep holding onto his arms. “Yeah, I just got back. I missed you out on patrol.”

He scoffs. “Got today off. Damn shame now.” He catches your long bandage on your neck and his face falls. “Is this fresh?”

You sigh and shake your head. “I’ll be fine. Just a cut. You should see what I did,” you clear your throat and smirk smugly. “Pen move. Lodged on the throat.”

“Is that right? I would've liked to see it. Maybe you can show me later.”

Your smirk softens. “Oh yeah, I could.”

Apollo shoots you a grin and holds your gaze with a soft look that makes your breath hitch, and for you to begin to grow hot under his gaze. However, you don’t look away, your smile softens, and you keep holding his gaze even as your heart begins to race again.

You actually catch his gaze flicker down, so you mimic his actions and see his lips part slightly, making him lean in just a bit.

Yet before anything can happen suddenly the sound of your name being yelled out breaks the tension. When Apollo and you look over, he quickly groans in annoyance, but you smile as you see his brother and your friend Atlas, and their dog Achilles running at you.

The dog beats him to you, but when Atlas reaches you he makes you stumble as he throws his arms around you and his brother in front of you.

“You’re still alive you fucker,” Atlas says to you.

Your lips pulls to a grin and you nod. “Always. You need to stop doubting me.”

He chuckles and pulls back, ignoring his brothers annoyance and just focusing on you. “I have to, who would I be if I didn’t?” He retorts.

You roll your eyes.

“I’d be crushed if I kept up my expectations,” Atlas adds quieter. “I’m happy to see you home.” He smiles and pats your shoulder. “Someone missed you terribly.” His gaze bounces to his brother, but he snickers and plays it off by then petting Achilles. “This old fucker here.”

“Ah, well,” you play along with him and slide your arm off him to touch your chest. “I’m here to stay this time. For good.”

“Really?” Apollo challenges. “You being for real?”

You hum and nod as you step back from both boys. “Swear.”

Apollo can’t help but smile, and Atlas just counters you. “We’ll see won't we.”

You scoff, but don’t try to argue, instead you let out a deep breath and point back to the group most likely already at the dinning hall. “I’ll see you boys at home, y’all still live there right?”

Apollo smiles and nods. “Of course. Why would we leave…I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

You smile softly and don’t add on to his comment because of Atlas beside you, but you understand his reference and nod. “I’m going to grab lunch,” you tell them. “I’m starving. Get…the tequila ready, yeah? Birthday shots?”

Atlas quickly rebuttals as you walk back. “No, your birthday passed!”

You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Have it ready!” You shoot Apollo one last smile. “Let’s talk later, yes?”

“You know I always have time for you.” He shouts back with a smirk.

You grin at him before you turn around and catch up with your family waiting for you outside of the hall. And once you get close your dad and uncle head inside whilst you linger behind with Ellie, all because she wants to pass you a teasing look.

“What?” You retort and know exactly what that look is for. “I’m just happy to see him.” You open the door and let her walk in first.

“Sure.” She chuckles. “Sure it’s just that.”

“Whatever,” you scoff with a giddy smile.

——

*LATER*

Having babies during this never ending pandemic seemed like such a selfish act to you before, you thought of the people as selfish for wanting to have and raise their kids during this apocalypse. But after meeting Henry, after learning to love again because of him, that thought disappeared.

Now you couldn’t be happier for Maria and your uncle Tommy. Now as you feel their baby kick inside her you also kind of long for such a bliss.

“You pick a name yet?” You ask Maria as you have your ear pressed against her belly.

“No,” she says. “Not yet. We’re waiting until the baby’s born to give it a name.”

You hum and then beam at the open air ahead of you. “I’m so glad I made it back in time to feel this.”

“I almost thought you wouldn't,” Maria retorts with some sass behind her comment.

You scoff softly. “You know he’d bring me back home.”

Maria sighs, so you lift your head off her belly to sit up and face her with a more serious look on your features.

“Look, I know he’s not your favorite person, but he’s still my dad, he’s still my uncle Tommy’s brother, making him your brother-in-law, so you have to suck it up and start coming around. Besides, when it comes down to it you wouldn't want anyone else having your back but him, he’s good, and protective.”

Maria holds your gaze and swallows thickly out of hesitation. After all she’s heard you can’t really blame her, she’s being protective too over you and your uncle, but now your dad is here to stay. She can’t live on hating him in this small town.

“Do you trust him?” She asks with a narrowed gaze. “It doesn’t matter if he’s your dad, push that aside. Do you trust him?”

Without hesitation you nod. “I do,” you assure her because it’s not your trust that’s at play here, no, you’re just upset and disappointed. “He’s earned it,” you add and clasp your hands together whilst you watch the wind sweep over the spring flowers in your meadow.

“Okay,” Maria sighs, “then I’ll be less…hostile. I’ll try.”

You drift your eyes over to her and shoot her a smile. “Good. That���s all I ask, all uncle Tommy and I ask.”

A moment of silence passes where all you hear is the soft howl of the wind brush over your ear, where all you do is watch the pretty and delicate flowers dance gracefully in your meadow. But Maria then breaks that moment. “Are you going to talk about why you left the second time, and came back all beat up?”

Shit.

You blink and drop your gaze whilst it slowly begins to harden and lose all the softens it held over the meaning of her question, and what it asks from you—lies.

More lies. You can’t tell her about Ellie, about where you went and what happened on the trip. At least you can’t say all that involves the fireflies. She’d hate your dad more than she already does, she’d just stir trouble.

Albeit there's a knot in your throat that threatens to undo so you can just throw up everything in some kind of word vomit.

But you can’t, you have to avert your gaze to avoid breaking. And luckily the back door opens, and when you look back you’re thankful to see your dad here to save you from breaking.

“Daddy,” you greet and quickly push yourself to your feet to avoid what came up.

Said man forms his lips into a tight lipped smile when he notices Maria, and slowly begins to wander over to where you are. “Sorry,” he interjects and meets Maria’s gaze. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You shake your head and answer right away. “No, no it’s okay. Come over.” You see his gaze flicker to the flower meadow and linger there for a moment before his gaze falls on Maria and you—“Everything okay? Or did you just come to visit?” You ask.

He nods stiffly. “Yeah. I came to visit.”

The wood from the bench swing creaks, stealing your attention. And when you look back you see Maria getting up. “I’ll go then and leave the two of you alone.”

Your dad doesn’t put up a fight to try and be nice, he nods and mutters, “yeah, okay, thanks. Sorry again.”

Maria shakes her head to assure him that it’s fine before beginning to walk away. And just as she makes it on the patio she glances over her shoulder. “I’ll see the both of you at dinner.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod in agreement, she then finally leaves the area when she walks inside, leaving your dad and you alone in a silence that feels quite comfortable.

“Sit, please,” you point to the bench as you sit back down.

Your dad lets out a deep sigh before slowly making his way to sit beside you.

“I grew it in memory of Sarah,” you let him know right away. “The meadow. I mean,” you sigh and smile a wobbly smile. “I’d already see her in the gentle flowers when I had no picture of her, everytime we were out trying to survive. I’d see her in the delicate and beautiful butterflies that flutter on them, so…I grew this meadow when I got here to see her all the time.” You drop your head and sniffle.

“It’s,” your dad mutters in a shaky voice. “It’s sweet. I like it. I’m sure she’d love it too.”

You smile softly and nod, you look at the flowers again and now as you remember your sister you also can’t help but remember the new burden you carry, and you have yet to talk about with your dad.

“Where’s Ellie?” You ask with a fading smile.

“Home,” he says. “She wanted to stay home.”

She’s thinking about what she failed to do isn't she? You know she is. You saw her overthinking behind her solemn look she carried ever since she woke up. You saw her disappointment after she asked your father for reassurance over what he said happened. You could hear her heartbreak when she questioned your dads fake story in the car.

So if you saw and heard all that, you know he did too.

“Why?” You break the silence that had built. “Why did you do it?” You ask, but not with anger laced in your voice, not disappointment; your voice is soft and filled with genuine wonder.

“They were gonna kill her,” he mutters out with no remorse behind his voice. “They were gonna kill her for it without giving her a choice.”

You briefly shut your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Did you give her a choice?” You ask him and blink to look at him, to watch as he meets your own gaze. “Did you give her a choice before you took her, before you killed everyone in that hospital including that doctor?”

Your dad holds your gaze and now you see that once hardened look turn soft. “I couldn’t lose her,” he says quietly. “You have to understand that.”

More than anything. You love her too.

“I do,” you whisper, but begin to shake your head. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t wrong. It doesn’t mean you weren’t selfish.”

“I’d do the same thing with you,” he rebuttals. “In a heartbeat—”

“You were wrong!” You cut him off in an emotional outburst. “You were wrong!” You shout again and jump to your feet to continue facing him. “You were selfish for taking that chance from humanity, even after all we’ve seen, all those people I’ve lost, that we’ve lost in the way,” your voice quivers. “You disrespected her by taking that choice away from her. I…I grew to love her too, I did,” you nod and feel your eyes fill with tears. “She made me find myself after being lost for so long without Sarah. But,” you swallow back your tears. “I would have given her that choice, if she said she wanted to live then I would have helped you get her out by doing whatever I took, but you….didn’t give her a choice.”

Your dad drops his head and watches the flowers in the meadow. He stays silent, letting you let out a deep shaky breath to calm down that anger you had held in.

“If you’re asking me to regret what I did,” he breaks his silence with no anger, his voice remains soft. “I won’t.” He meets your gaze with exactly that, no regret. “I won’t regret what I did because I did it for her, so she can live. I did it for us, for our family. If it was you in her position I’d do it too in a heartbeat, damn the consequences. I wouldn’t even care if you spent all your life hatin’ me because at least you’re alive to do that. The same goes for Ellie.”

That doesn’t take away from your anger and disappointment, but it does help you better understand his reasonings behind his actions.

“And if she ever finds out,” he continues as you remain quiet, unable to find something to argue back with. “I’ll never let her blame you because it was all me. But I hope that she doesn’t find out, she doesn’t deserve to live with that heartbreak, she deserves a good life. She can have that here with us. So that’s all I ask from you, don’t tell her. Please.”

You hold his gaze for a brief second as you think about what he asks from you, as you debate whether to listen or not.

You then proceed to sit back beside him on the bench, you watch the flowers and think about your thought process before, when you stood on that hill that overlooked Jackson. You remember what you came up with then; you want to save Ellie from the darkness that his betrayal would bring, because you also want her to have a good life.

That’s the only reason why you’re agreeing to carrying that burden too.

“I won’t,” you assure your dad. “I won’t tell her. I swear.”

Your dad nods, but keeps holding your gaze with anguish. “Does this change anythin’ between us?” He asks, catching you by surprise. “Because I can’t…I can’t lose you babygirl. Not again.”

You quickly shake your head and speak your truth with a gentle smile. “No, of course not.”

Your dad nods softly as he lets out a deep relieved sigh.

“I was just angry,” you share. “I just needed you to hear what I had to say, that’s all, but no I don’t want that to change us.” You grab his hand and give it an assuring squeeze. “Because regardless of it all, omitting this truth from her is for her own sake now.”

“Yeah,” your dad agrees with a nod. “It is. It’s for her...”

“For Ellie,” you finish his sentence.

.

.

.

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