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joelmillerisapunk · 5 months ago

Text

Escapism

Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,733

Summary: The grumpy Joel, one bed, who did that to you trope fic no one asked for/ Ellie matchmaking for Joel

Warnings: 18+, smut, joels a grump, ellie's there, reader experiences a tiny bit of ptsd from being captured prior to meeting joel and ellie.

Notes: Ty to @evolnoomym for the moodboard and beta reading and @syd-djarin & @joelslegalwhre for the beta read. and @saradika-graphics for the divider.

The world changed in the blink of an eye. Civilization, with all its comforts and securities, crumbled under the weight of a relentless pandemic. The infected roam the earth, their minds and bodies ravaged by a virus that turns them into mindless, ravenous creatures. Humanity, once the masters of their domain, is now just another prey in a landscape that has turned savagely against them.

You are on your own for months, ever since the virus claimed your sister and the raiders took everything else. Your husband and son, Ethan, are lost to the chaos, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your back, a backpack filled with meager supplies, and a book - "No Pun Intended: Volume 1" - a cherished memento of a life that once was.

The days blur into a testament to your will to live. You scavenge for food, avoid the infected, and keep moving, always moving. The world is a graveyard of memories, and you are just another ghost haunting its ruins.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you find yourself in the remnants of a once-bustling town. The buildings stand like skeletons, their windows shattered, their doors hanging off their hinges. It is here, in this desolate place, that you decide to make camp for the night.

You choose a spot behind an overturned bus, its rusted shell providing a modicum of shelter. You gather what little dry wood you can find and build a small fire. The can of beans you scavenged earlier in the day heats slowly, the metallic smell mingling with the scent of smoke and decay that seems to permeate everything.

As you wait for your meal, you allow yourself a rare moment of stillness. The book lies open in your lap, its pages a portal to a time when puns and laughter were the greatest concerns of the day. You are so lost in the world of words that you almost don't hear the low growl that signals the approach of danger.

It happens in a heartbeat. One moment you are alone, the next an infected lunges at you from the shadows, its bloodshot eyes and snarling mouth a terrifying vision of death. You have no time to react, no time to defend yourself. The creature pins you to the ground, its fetid breath hot against your face.

Panic surges through your veins, a scream lodges in your throat. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and you brace yourself for the end. But then, the deafening crack of a gunshot splits the air. The weight of the infected creature collapses onto you, its lifeless body trapping you beneath its bulk.

For a moment, time stands still. You lie there, stunned and gasping for breath, the world around you reduced to the pounding of your heart and the ringing in your ears. Then, as quickly as the nightmare has descended, the weight is lifted from your body. You scramble backward, your hands and knees scraping against the rough ground, until you reach the sanctuary of your sleeping bag.

Looking up, you are met with the imposing figure of a large, rugged man. His rifle is still smoking from the shot that has saved your life. His eyes, hard and suspicious, bore into you as he demands, "You bit?”

Your hands shoot up in surrender, tears threatening to spill as you vehemently shake your head. "Please don't shoot, I- I wasn't bit," you plead, your voice quivering with fear.

The man nudges his gun towards you, his voice gruff as he commands, "Get up slowly."

You rise to your feet, hands still raised, and perform a slow pirouette to prove your uninfected state. Satisfied, he lowers his weapon.

"I totally could have done that," a smaller, younger girl boasts as she steps out from behind him. His daughter, you presume, exudes a mix of bravado and youthful naivety.

"I told you to stay in the woods," He chides her.

The girl ignores her father's reprimand, instead, bounding over to your belongings. "No fucking way!" she exclaims, holding up a book that clearly means something to you. "No Pun Intended - the first volume." She chuckles, turning to the burly man. "Can you believe it?"

You rush over, snatching the book from her hands. "That was my -" Emotion chokes your words as you clutch the book, a tangible piece of your past. "It was my sister's," you manage to say, hastily stowing the book in your bag.

The man surveys your camp, his expression a mix of concern and disapproval. "Ya know it ain't safe to be camping out in the open like this," he remarks. You follow his gaze, taking in the vulnerability of your setup, and release a heavy sigh. "I - I know. There used to be more of us - a group. We traveled together, always finding safer places to go. But now - now I'm on my own, alone and..." Your voice trails off as you turn away, taking a seat by the dwindling fire. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not gonna survive too long out here alone. It's only a matter of time. If you weren't here, I'd have been dead already. But thank you for your help. Help yourselves to some food, I don't have much else to offer you."

Abruptly, the girl's head bobs up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come with us, oh yeah, it's going to be a blast. Finally, another girl around here!" Her voice rings out with a mix of eagerness and camaraderie.

"Ellie, quiet!" the man snaps, then pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, a clear sign of mounting frustration. "We don't have the space for anyone else."

You stand by, a silent observer, as the man and his daughter, Ellie, butt heads over the possibility of taking you with them.

"You're just going to leave her here alone," Ellie emphasizes, her voice sharp as a knife, "to die? Come on, Joel." Her plea hangs in the air, reminiscent of someone who's just found a stray puppy and can't bear to leave it behind.

Joel's gaze flickers to you as if searching for a reason to abandon you. He heaves a sigh so heavy it seems to carry the weight of the world. He turns back to Ellie, frustration etched on his face, then looks at you once more. "You have five minutes to pack your things, and then we're leavin’. With or without you." With that, he strides off into the thicket of trees, leaving Ellie behind with a look that speaks volumes of his exasperation.

"Sorry, he's not always so grumpy... well, actually, he is," Ellie admits with a sheepish grin. "Don't mind Joel; he's just set in his ways. I'm Ellie, by the way."

You can't help but giggle, kneeling down to gather your belongings. "It's nice to meet you, Ellie," you say, your voice tinged with a mix of relief and curiosity. "But why do you call your dad by his name?"

"I ain't her dad," Joel's voice cuts in, as he reemerges leading a horse by the reins.

"He's not my dad," they echo each other, their voices intertwining in a strange harmony.

"Oh," you reply, hurriedly stuffing your meager possessions into your sister's old backpack—a white and black checkered bag adorned with random sunflowers. You hoist the thick black straps over your shoulders and roll up your sleeping bag, tucking it under your arm. Rising to your feet, you dust off your flared blue jeans. "Sorry, I could have sworn you two were related, the way you bicker like that."

Ellie nudges Joel with her elbow, a playful smirk on her face. "It's just Joel. He's old and cranky."

Joel stands there, stoic and unamused, the reins held firmly in his grip. "Need to find shelter before nightfall," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why can't we just stay here?" You ask, genuine curiosity lacing your words.

"The fact that you almost got killed by one of those things, and you couldn't even hear it creeping up on you, should make it pretty damn clear why not," Joel retorts, his voice rising as he gesticulates wildly, emphasizing the danger lurking in the shadows.

"Be fucking nice, Joel!" Ellie interjects, smacking his arm with back of her hand.

"I am being very nice by lettin’ her come with us. Now why ain’t we movin’?" he asks.

"I have no idea where we're going, lead the way, cowboy."

"Actually, Joel was a contractor before this, super cool, right?"

You can't help but laugh. "Yeah, totally."

"What's so funny?" Joel asks, his brow furrowing as the three of you begin to navigate the rugged terrain.

"You actually managed to make being a contractor sound like the epitome of cool to young Ellie here?"

Joel's patience wears thin. "Can we all just keep quiet until we find a place to hole up for the night?"

Ellie clears her throat, her curiosity piqued. "So, what's the story with your group?"

"Ellie, you don't go asking people you just met that stuff." Joel snapped.

You let out a soft chuckle, the memory of your past still vivid. "It's alright. My sister got bitten. I had to...you know, in the middle of the night." The weight of that memory tugs at your heartstrings. "My husband and son, Ethan, they were killed by raiders who tried to overrun our camp. They took me captive, but I managed to escape. And now, here I am." You pause, the chilling recollection making you shudder. You shake off the dark thoughts, not wanting to dwell on them now.

Ellie offers a sympathetic smile, and you catch the hint of one on Joel's face too. "That's rough. I'm really sorry that happened to you," Ellie says, her voice gentle.

"Thanks, Ellie," you murmur, your gaze falling to your boots, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment washing over you.

You look up at Joel, who seems to be wrestling with his own thoughts. "So, where are we actually heading?"

He takes a moment, staring off into the distance before heaving a sigh and meeting your eyes. "My brother and his wife are part of a large group just north of here. We can make it there. It's not far—a couple of days' travel at most."

"We should find a spot to camp soon. It's getting dark," Joel suggests, scanning the surroundings.

With the three of you working in unison, the camp comes together quickly in the shelter of the woods, hidden from any unwelcome eyes.

"Wanna get the fire going?" Joel asks, kneeling on the ground and rummaging through his bag. He extends his hand to you, offering a small amount of kindling and a pack of matches.

"Uh, sure," you reply, your voice tinged with uncertainty. The truth is, you're still pretty green in this post-apocalyptic world, and tasks like starting a fire are always more challenging than they seem.

You step forward and accept the kindling and matches from Joel, then set to work. Carefully, you arrange the kindling, trying to remember the techniques you've been taught. You strike the first match, the flame flickering to life. With trembling hands, you bring it close to the kindling, only for the wind to snuff it out.

"Shit," you mutter, hoping no one noticed. You try again, but the result is the same. On the third attempt, you realize Joel has been observing you all along. Each failed attempt makes him wince. Finally, on the fourth match, he's seen enough.

Joel stands abruptly and strides over to you. He takes the matches and kindling from your hands and, in one swift motion, ignites the fire. "Just go set up your sleeping bag," he says, a sigh of exasperation escaping him as he avoids your gaze. The sting of being a burden weighs heavily on you.

You rise slowly and move toward your sleeping bag and backpack, which are nestled beside a tree just off to the side of where Joel and Ellie are sitting. You drag your things closer to the newly lit fire and spread out your sleeping bag. As you search through your bag, you pull out a small handgun and begin to load it.

"Whoa, cool!" Ellie exclaims, bounding over to you and eyeing the gun with interest.

"It was my husband's," you tell her as you finish loading the weapon. "I'm going to get us something to eat." With your bag slung over your shoulder, you head toward the edge of the camp. But before you can leave, a hand grips your upper arm, halting your progress.

You turn to face Joel's frustrated expression. "No, absolutely not. You can't even start a damn fire. How are you going to shoot us something to eat?" he challenges.

You pull your arm free, determination flashing in your eyes. "I can handle it myself. I did fine before you came along, and I'll do fine after you're gone." You resume your course, but Joel isn't done yet.

"I'm not letting you go out there alone. I saved you once; you don't get another chance," he calls after you.

You turn back, extracting your arm from his grasp for the last time. "I didn't ask for your saving or help. You have no obligations to me. Thank you for saving me once, but I don't need it again." With that, you continue into the dense woods, leaving Joel standing there, conflicted. He returns to the camp, muttering to himself, "Fuck sakes. You stay here. Don't fucking move. I'm not in the mood to save two of you today." He grabs his rifle and follows you into the woods, the setting sun casting long shadows across the forest floor.

A few moments later, he hears your gun go off, and panic starts to seize him.

After about five minutes, he finds you huddled over something, "What the hell? You can't just go shooting your gun off like that. Raiders, fucking infected, someone's gonna find us." His voice is laced with urgency.

As he approaches, he sees you covered in blood, and fear races through him. But then he realizes it's not your blood. You've actually killed a deer.

You turn around to see Joel standing near you, his expression a mix of relief and irritation.

"So now what? You even know how to skin it?" Joel challenges.

You shake your head, "No."

"What was your plan then? To just try and drag it by yourself back to camp?" He's exasperated, but there's a hint of concern beneath his gruff exterior.

You shrug, admitting your inexperience. You've always known you're not very good at hunting, but the desire to contribute, to ensure a decent meal tonight, drove you to try.

"Come on, I'll teach you," Joel says, resignation in his voice. He shows you how to skin and butcher the deer, his frustration still evident. It's clear he resents the extra burden you represent.

After you've all eaten your fill and packed away the rest for tomorrow, you and Ellie crawl into your sleeping bags, while Joel takes the first watch.

—

In the dead of night, a sound pierces through the silence, and you jolt awake. You see Joel leaning against a tree, his vigilance unwavering. As you approach, you offer, "Here, let me take over. Get some rest."

He turns to meet your gaze, "No. I don't know you, can't trust you."

"I don't know you either, and I trusted you to keep me safe," you rebut.

"I think saving you before I even knew you is proof enough of my trustworthiness. You've done nothing but add extra work for me since I've been here. I'm not lettin’ you keep watch. You couldn't even hear the damn thing when it was close." Joel's frustration is palpable.

Your eyes narrow as you step into Joel's space, "Fuck you, Joel. I never asked for your help. If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and I'll go." Despite barely knowing the man, his words sting.

Joel rolls his eyes, a silent admission of the care he feels for you, a care he'd never voice. His tough exterior belies a growing attachment, one that complicates his solitary existence. He avoids looking at you, his gaze skittering away whenever your eyes meet. "Go to bed, please. I've got this," he says, his voice a low rumble. Joel doesn't turn his attention to you until you retreat to your sleeping bag, where you curl up, seeking warmth and comfort. As you drift off to sleep, he watches over you, a silent sentinel in the quiet night. There's a palpable sense of relief that washes over him when you finally succumb to sleep.

The next morning, the sound of footsteps rouses you from your slumber. You blink against the bright morning light, using your arm as a shield. Rolling over, you're greeted by the sight of Joel's back; he's crouched, presumably packing his bag for the journey ahead. The remnants of sleep slowly clear from your mind as you extricate yourself from the sleeping bag and roll it up. To your right, Ellie lies fast asleep, her soft snores a gentle backdrop to the morning.

You leave Ellie to her dreams and approach Joel. He's focused on his pack, his shirt inching up to reveal the taut skin of his lower back. You catch yourself staring and quickly bite your lip, a futile attempt to redirect your thoughts.

Attraction? No, that's not it. He's infuriating, self-centered, and yet here you are, sharing this strange journey with him and Ellie, who might as well be his daughter.

Joel looks up, his eyes betraying a deep exhaustion that seems to have settled into his very bones. "We're leaving once the sun's up. Make sure you're ready. We'll cover more than half the distance by nightfall," he informs you, rising to his feet and hoisting his pack over his shoulder.

You find yourself captivated by his deep brown eyes, noticing for the first time the kindness hidden beneath his gruff exterior. A silent exchange passes between you, a moment of unspoken understanding, before Joel clears his throat and breaks the connection, turning his attention to the horse.

The tension in the air is almost tangible as you both look away. Once Joel has secured everything onto the horse except for Ellie, he gently wakes her.

The three of you fall into a rhythm, traversing the desolate landscape. The day stretches on, filled with endless walking. As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the land, fatigue sets in. But Joel, ever perceptive, anticipates your need for rest.

"There should be a town up this road," he says. "We can find an old house to spend the night. No need for watches tonight; we all could use some proper sleep."

As night falls, Joel guides the horse with practiced ease over the unforgiving terrain. Before long, a small farmhouse emerges from the twilight, its isolation suggesting it's been long abandoned.

Ellie's voice cuts through the stillness. "Is this the town you were talking about? It's tiny, Joel. There's barely a house here."

Joel just chuckles, a soft sound that carries the weight of countless stories and experiences. "Sometimes, the best places are the ones that are hardest to find."

The three of you brace yourselves for the night, the assurance of safety and rest offering a much-needed refuge from the relentless challenges of your travels.

"This isn't the town, but it's likely safer to camp here. Raiders might be patrolling near the town. Now go inside and get settled, Ellie, help me with the horse."

You move silently into the house, scouting for a suitable spot to bed down for the night.

Ellie and Joel lead the horse towards the barn at the back.

"So, you planning to make a move, lover boy?" Ellie abruptly inquires, her voice laced with playful mischief.

Joel's eyes narrow in confusion, "What?"

"Ugh, it's so clear you two are head over heels for each other. It's adorable how you bicker." She giggles, mimicking air kisses.

Joel dismisses her with a shake of his head, "Mind your own business, would you?"

"So it is true! You like her... ha! I knew it. Can't wait to spill the beans."

Joel's eyes widen with a hint of panic as he secures the horse to a post, "Ellie! Cut it out, this isn't the time for matchmaking. I'm not in love. I wouldn't bat an eye if she left."

Ellie smirks, her eyes gleaming with a devious spark. "Oh Joel, dumb dumb Joel. Don't worry, I'll help you out."

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing, "Ellie, please, just drop it, head inside. I'll be there shortly. And don't say a word to her!"

By the time he finishes, Ellie is already darting back to the house.

Upon entering, you're arranging an old, grimy mattress when Ellie bursts in.

"Hey, lucky for us, there's another mattress upstairs. I figured we could each -"

Before you can finish, Ellie dashes up the stairs, calling out, "I'll take this one!" She pauses at the top, looking back, "And tell Joel I'm really upset with him and I don't want to talk."

Perplexed, you try to stop her, but she's already disappeared, the door shut behind her.

As the door closes, Joel steps in, and you turn to face him, "What happened with Ellie?"

Joel looks up, puzzled, as he sets his gear aside, "What do you mean?"

"She just bolted upstairs, saying she's upset and doesn't want to talk to you."

"She's a kid, I don't know. So this is the only bed then?"

"Well, you must have done something to upset her. She dashed upstairs and staked her claim on the other mattress."

The realization dawns on Joel. "Goddammit, Ellie! Get down here now!" he yells, but his call is met with silence. He races up the staircase to the closed door, pounding on it. "Ellie, come out here. We need to talk."

"No! I'm not talking to you. I locked the door, you can't come in," her voice is muffled but defiant. Joel continues to pound on the door. "Ellie, get out here."

"I can't hear you..." Ellie's voice trails off, barely audible.

Frustrated, Joel descends the stairs, his gaze shifting between the bed and you. "You can have the bed. I'll just crash on the floor in one of the sleeping bags."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by his offer. "Just get in the damn bed, Joel. We're two grown adults; we can share a bed for one night, can't we?"

He looks like he's about to argue but then relents. "Fine... whatever." He grabs a sleeping bag from his pack and tosses it onto the bed. You slip under the covers, turning away from him. As Joel settles down to sleep, the room falls silent.

After a few minutes, you hear him chuckle softly to himself.

"What's so funny?" You turn to face him, a hint of irritation in your voice.

"Nothin’, just thinkin’," he replies, the chuckle turning into a full-blown laugh.

You sigh and turn back around, but his laughter is infectious. "Seriously, Joel, if you don't stop, I'm going to punch you in the face." You turn to face him again, trying to suppress a smile.

"It's Ellie," he says, the laughter subsiding. "I know why she's upset."

"Then why aren't you talking to her about it?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

He studies you for a moment, his gaze intense. "It ain't that simple. She thinks she's doin’ us a favor by making us share a bed."

Your cheeks flush with warmth. "Oh."

"So I guess that means it's your fault," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips. The atmosphere shifts, becoming both more relaxed and more charged at the same time.

"How is it my fault?" you challenge, playing along with his playful tone.

"If I didn't have to keep saving your ass, we wouldn't be in this situation," he jabs, his tone light and teasing.

"I think you owe me, if anything, for that deer I killed," you retort, a small smile tugging at your lips. The tension that's been building over the past day begins to dissipate.

"Oh yeah?" he says, inching closer to you on the bed.

You swallow hard, your heart rate picking up. "Mhm, you sure owe me big time."

His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes. Suddenly, he leans in and kisses you, his hand cradling the back of your neck while the other pulls you tightly against him. The kiss is gentle and sweet, causing your thoughts to scatter as you surrender to the moment, pressing closer to him.

In the quiet hush of the room, you pull back slightly, your gaze meeting his. Joel's face is mere inches from yours, his eyes brimming with unspoken desire.

Nervously, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, whispering his name like a secret, "Joel..."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he slowly leans in, closing the distance between you. His forehead gently meets yours, a tender gesture that sends a shiver down your spine.

"God, I've wanted this since the moment I saw you," he confesses, his voice a low rumble that resonates deep within you.

Without warning, his hand shoots out, capturing your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip. He pulls you towards him, your bodies aligning, pressing tightly against each other.

Your lips find his again, this kiss more urgent than the last, fueled by a hunger that has been building since your first encounter. Joel's lips move against yours with a newfound intensity, his tongue exploring, claiming every inch of your mouth.

You surrender to the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours. His hands begin to roam, tracing the curves of your body, eliciting a soft moan from you. The sound seems to spur him on, and he deepens the kiss even further.

You can feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles beneath your hands. His grip on you is firm, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. He breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. His hot breath against your skin causes goosebumps to rise in its wake.

His hands slide lower, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity. Joel lifts himself off the bed, pressing his body against yours, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable.

A gasp escapes you as he grinds against you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, while his hands explore the softness of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. A whimper slips past your lips as he teases you with a gentle squeeze.

You can feel his smirk against your neck as he continues his descent, leaving a trail of kisses and small love bites in his wake. The sensation of being consumed by him is intoxicating, and you find yourself yearning for more, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

"Joel...please..." you beg, tugging at his shirt, eager to remove the last barrier between you.

He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, a sound that only fans the flames of your desire. His lips return to yours, and he begins to move his hips in a rhythm that matches the urgency of your kisses. Your body responds instinctively, arching against him, seeking friction.

"Ahh..." you groan as his bulge hits just the right spot, causing your body to tremble with anticipation.

"Shh... just relax. I'm going to make you feel so good," Joel whispers, his voice a promise against your ear. He quickly strips you of your shirt, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

You bite your lip, your eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of his hands on your skin sends you reeling. His touch is electric, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench.

"Look at me," he commands, and your eyes snap open to meet his intense gaze. His face is a portrait of desire, his eyes dark with need, his hair tousled from your eager hands. His fingers find the hem of your pants, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation as he peels them off your legs.

He plants a gentle kiss on your belly, causing you to sigh with contentment. His lips continue their journey downward, and you can't help but arch your back, moaning softly as his fingertips graze your sensitive flesh. His tongue darts out, teasing you, tasting you, driving you wild with need.

The years of longing, the pent-up desire, it all comes crashing down as his tongue delves into your core. You can't hold back the moans that escape your lips, each one a testament to the pleasure he's bringing you. He continues to tease you, his hands tracing a path back up to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

The sensation of his mouth on you is almost too much to bear. You come undone, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Joel's mouth is relentless, his lips and tongue working in unison to draw out every last ounce of your pleasure.

As you come back down to earth, your breathing slowly returning to normal, Joel pulls away, his lips glistening with the evidence of your desire. He wastes no time in shedding his own clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his shaft teasing you, promising you the release you so desperately crave. And then, with one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

The world around you fades away as Joel sets a punishing pace, his hands gripping your hair, pulling just enough to send shivers of pleasure down your spine. You match his rhythm, your bodies moving together as one, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

Sweat beads on your foreheads, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other's breaths. All you can see is Joel's face above you, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a passion that takes your breath away.

"Joel..." you whisper his name, a benediction, a plea, a promise. Your fingers thread through his hair, caressing his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips.

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his body shuddering against yours. You hold him close, feeling the aftershocks of his release mingle with your own.

For a moment, the only sounds are the ragged breaths filling the room and the pounding of your hearts. In this moment, there is nothing else—just you and Joel, two souls intertwined in the most intimate of dances.

You lie there, your breaths heavy as they echo in the quiet room, your gaze fixed on the ceiling above. In the stillness, the sound of your own ragged breathing mingles with Joel's intense scrutiny of your body. It's then that he notices the jagged scar marring your torso. His fingers trace its length, a silent question hanging in the air. "What happened?" he asks, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.

The question yanks you from the serenity you'd found, hurling you into a tumultuous sea of memories. "Uh - it's nothing, just a battle wound," you reply, your voice trembling despite your attempt at nonchalance.

He looks at you, his eyes probing, seeing right through your facade. "Who did this to you?" he presses, his tone insistent.

Tears well up as you feel the rough pads of his fingers grazing your scar. You pull his hand away, sitting up on the bed's edge, turning away from him. A heavy sigh escapes you before you begin to unravel the story.

"When the raiders took over our camp, they brought me to some abandoned warehouse a few cities over. They held me there for weeks, torturing me, starving me. They left bruises everywhere. Every night before they would sleep, they would have their way with me." you confess, your voice wavering. "One night I guess I fought them a little too hard and I was awarded this fucking thing as a lovely reminder." You gesture to the scar on your abdomen with a trembling hand.

Joel moves closer, his cool hands unexpectedly cradling your face, turning you to meet his gaze. He wipes away your tears, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm here now, baby girl," he assures you, his voice firm with conviction. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to you like that ever again, you hear me?"

A small, sad smile tugs at your lips as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. He then reclines on the bed, drawing you into the sanctuary of his arms. Your head finds the rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby that resonates against your cheek. In this moment of vulnerability, you allow yourself to trust in his promises, your defenses crumbling as sleep claims you, cocooned in his embrace.

—

"I knew it!"

Suddenly, a sharp whisper slices through the silence, "I knew it!"

Joel startles awake, his heart pounding in his chest. There, at the foot of the stairs, stands Ellie, her eyes wide with the realization of the scene before her. He glances down at you, still nestled against him, and for a moment, time stands still. With a quick gesture, he signals Ellie to be quiet, his finger pressed to his lips. "Go back to bed," he commands softly.

"But I'm not tired -" Ellie protests, her voice a whisper in the dark.

"Now," Joel repeats, his whisper now a stern command. Ellie sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, but she complies, her footsteps retreating up the stairs. "Jeez, okay, lover boy," she mutters under her breath.

Relief washes over Joel as he watches Ellie disappear from view. He turns back to you, your peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the tension that just gripped the room. He gently kisses your forehead, his whisper barely audible, "I got you, baby girl."

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wholoveseggs · 1 month ago

Note

Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)

Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!

Belonging

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.

♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡

8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss

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@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03

Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.

The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.

Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.

You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.

You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Where do you work?”

"I...I'm looking."

You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."

"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.

"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”

He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”

A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”

His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”

His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”

You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.

"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”

Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.

For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?

The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.

He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.

He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.

You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.

You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.

"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.

"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.

"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."

"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.

"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."

"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."

He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.

"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.

"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.

"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."

"Odd how?"

"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.

"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.

"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."

"Wow, that's big," you breathed.

"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."

"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.

"Maybe," he agreed.

The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.

He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.

After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.

"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.

"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.

"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."

"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.

Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.

You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.

You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.

You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.

He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.

Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.

Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.

"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.

You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.

You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.

He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.

"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.

"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.

"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.

"What were you doing in that warehouse?"

"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."

"You are out here," you countered.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"

He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."

"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.

You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.

He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.

"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"

Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.

Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"

The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.

"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.

"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.

"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.

"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"

"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.

Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."

"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.

Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.

The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.

"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"

His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.

"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.

"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.

You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.

"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.

"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.

You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.

You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.

You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.

"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.

"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.

You flinched, and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."

He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.

"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"

"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.

"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.

"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.

You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.

"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.

"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.

The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.

Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.

He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"

Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.

Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.

One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.

You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.

The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.

The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.

"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"

Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"

He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.

"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.

You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.

Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.

He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.

Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.

The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.

"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.

You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.

He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.

When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.

"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.

"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.

You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.

"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."

"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.

You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?

Who had you let into your home?

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.

You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.

"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.

"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.

"How?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."

You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.

"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.

"What are you then?"

"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.

A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.

You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."

You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.

"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.

"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.

"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Garlic?" You questioned.

"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.

"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.

"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."

He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.

"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.

"So, how old are you?" You asked.

"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.

"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Perhaps," he mused.

You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.

"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.

"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.

"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.

"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.

"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.

"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.

"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.

"I didn't," he insisted.

"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.

"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"

You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.

You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.

"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied.

"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.

"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.

"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.

"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"

"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.

"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."

"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"

"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.

You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.

"Do you feel any different?" He asked.

"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.

"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.

"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.

He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.

You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.

But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.

You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.

Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.

"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".

"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.

"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"

You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.

"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.

You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.

"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.

"No, thank you," he replied.

You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.

"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.

"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.

"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."

"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.

He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.

"Pick one," he said.

"What?"

"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.

"Seriously?"

"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?

"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"

"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."

"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.

"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.

"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.

"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.

"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"

You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.

"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.

"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.

You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.

"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"

"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.

"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"

"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

He chuckled and shook his head.

You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.

"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.

"We," he corrected, smiling.

"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.

This was going to be the best vacation ever.

France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.

The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.

What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.

It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.

You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.

"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.

"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.

You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.

He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.

"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.

"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.

You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?

"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.

"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.

"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.

"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.

Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.

"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"

"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.

The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.

"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.

One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.

When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.

You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.

She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."

You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.

"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.

"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"

She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.

"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”

Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”

The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.

“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”

Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.

"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.

You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.

"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.

"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.

"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"

"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"

You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.

"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.

He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.

The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.

Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.

You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.

You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.

The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.

You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.

"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.

"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"

He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.

"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

And those instincts... were impeccable.

His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.

You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.

You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"

You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.

"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.

You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.

He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.

"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.

"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.

He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.

His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.

"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.

The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.

"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.

Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.

When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.

You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.

Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.

His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.

"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"

He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.

"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.

"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.

He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.

You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.

You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.

He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.

You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.

The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.

He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.

"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.

He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.

You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.

He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.

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