#the last of us hbo

[absurdthirst]

The Last Piece of Us {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Lingerie, birthday sex, riding, mentions of birth control, cannon violence, broken legs, car accidents, end of the world, regret, anger, harsh words, reunions, oral sex (female receiving),

Comments: When the world ends that night, Joel has to make a choice between you and his daughter. You encouraged him to save Sarah and twenty years later, he finds out that you survived that night when he sees you in Jackson.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"Happy birthday, baby." You coo down the phone, twirling the cord around your finger. 

"Thank you." Joel flusters as he holds his cell phone in his hand while he watches Tommy carry some lumber across the yard of the home they are working on. 

"I have your present waiting for when you come over on your lunch break." You promise and Joel smirks, "yeah?" His voice is rougher, hoping that his present is you in that little silk number he barely managed to not rip off of you the first time you wore it. 

"Yeah...and sex. Birthday sex." You say bluntly and he chuckles at how eager you are. He's just as eager. Life is perfect. The only thing that could make it better is if you move in with him. He wants to ask Sarah about you moving in and see if she is upset with him before he takes the next step. "I'll be there for lunch." He promises just as Tommy spins around and calls out for him to work. "Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get the day off, asshole." Joel snorts, "I gotta go baby. See you soon." He promises and hangs up, shoving his Nokia back in his pocket to help his brother because he heads over to your place for his birthday lunch.

Only an hour remains until Joel should be here and you bite your lip as you look around. You had gotten him a cake, a small one from the grocery store, but knowing him - he hadn’t arranged for anything else. Joel doesn’t like to fuss over himself, but he deserves it. You’ve never met a man who does so much, works so hard, to provide a solid and stable life for his daughter. You had met him at the grocery store two years ago. He had been slightly panicked in the pads and tampons aisle, unsure of what to get his daughter. You had taken mercy on him and it had turned into flirting every time you ran into each other, and eventually you asked him out for a drink. Now, you are head over heels for Joel Miller and you hope that soon enough, you will take your relationship to the next level.

Joel takes his break after Tommy notices that distracted, lovesick look on his face. “Get the fuck out of here. Me and the guys will handle it.” He promises and Joel doesn’t look back as he grabs the keys to his truck and drives over to your place. He rings the doorbell and you open the door, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.” You coo and kiss his lips. He grins, pushing you into your hallway and he kicks the door closed as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into Joel’s mouth, tangling your fingers into his head and breathing him in while he kisses you. He smells like sunshine and sweat. Like man. You have no problem with your hardworking, blue collar boyfriend. You love it actually. His hands are rough, but he’s gentle with you unless you don’t want him to be.

He groans into your mouth, loving how you respond and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through the pretty sundress you’re wearing. “You look good enough to eat.” He groans, kissing along your jaw as he backs you against the wall to push his hardening cock against your hip.

“You’re just horny.” You tease, eyes closing and you have to admit you are just as horny. You’ve been imagining him inside you all day. Especially when you put on these panties. “Fuck, baby. Tell me you can take a full lunch.” You beg, reaching for his belt between your bodies.

He nods, "Tommy has it under control. Wanna celebrate my birthday with my lady." He murmurs, kissing along your neck and his hands slide under your dress to squeeze your ass again, feeling the lace. "Fuck, I'm a lucky bastard." He groans against your neck. He knows he should sit down and have lunch with you before having sex but he's been thinking about you all damn day.

“You want to fuck me against the wall or go to the bed?” You hum, pushing on his chest slightly so you can drag him to your bed. “It’s your birthday, so I figured I would ride your cock and let you lay back and relax.”

"You are spoiling me." He grunts, letting you take his hand after he says, "bed." You escort him up the stairs to your bedroom, squealing when he smacks your ass playfully, and he groans at the flash of your panties when you are a few steps ahead of him. When you stumble into your room, he grabs the hem of your dress and drags it up your body. "Happy fucking birthday to me." He hisses, dark eyes taking in your lingerie.

You giggle, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching in to cup his cock. “I could say the same thing.” You coo, squeezing him gently. “Fuck, I’m always amazed at how fucking thick you are.” You moan. “Perfect to fill me up.” He groans and reaches for the collar of his shirt to pull it off, batting your hand away to shimmy out of his jeans and boxer briefs. “Are you going to wear the panties or fuck me.” He demands, making you grin. “They’re crotchless.”

"Jesus Christ." He hisses, "you're trying to kill me. I won't make my next birthday." He groans, stumbling as he kicks his jeans aside and reaches for you, his fingers cupping your cunt through the lace and he hisses at the slick he discovers.

“Thirty-“ you break off a moan when his fingers brush your clit and he starts to rub. “Thirty-six is old enough.” You joke, holding onto his shoulders and trying to steer him to the bed while his hand is still between your thighs. “I can claim I fucked you to death.”

"Put it on my headstone." He chuckles, shifting onto the bed after reluctantly pulling his hand away from your pussy. "Death by orgasm...not a bad way to go." He smirks at you as you straddle his stomach and he can feel how wet you are. His hands slide up your sides until he's cupping your tits, admiring the lace that is covering them.

“Happy Birthday, old man.” You grin as you start grinding down on his cock, feeling how much he loves that as his fingers dig into your skin and he squeezes. Leaning down to kiss him lets your lips catch on the head and you start to push your hips back, letting him break you open as your tongue slides against his.

His hands let go of your tits, sliding down to grab your hips as you sink down onto him with a moan into his mouth. He responds with his own and his cock twitches as you engulf him in your wet, hot heat. “Fuckkk.” He finally pants against your mouth as you take all of him.

You smirk, eyes glazed over from how good it feels. “Fuck is right.” You pant, kissing him again and again as you enjoy the pinch of him filling you and pausing so you can adjust. He’s thick and a lot to take so you give yourself a minute before you start riding him.

Joel slides his hands behind your back, wanting to unclasp your bra, and he drags the straps down your arms to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. He tosses the bra across the room and his hands find your tits again, squeezing and pinching your nipples as you slowly start to move on top of him.

“Fuck Joel.” You moan softly, always loving the way he touches you. Joel hadn’t dated a lot before you, being super protective of having people come in and out of Sarah, his daughter’s, life. You respect it, but it gave a greedy, hungry edge to his touch, like he had been so starved for it for so long he was going to gorge himself.

He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock, loving the way you moan his name. “God, baby. You feel so fucking good.” He rasps, trying to not thrust up into you. He went so many years after Helen left without touching anyone, only focusing on raising Sarah, so when you came along, he was greedy for your body, for your touch.

You agree with a hum, rocking on him a little faster. Greedy yourself for his cock inside you. “Fuck.” You moan softly. “I love you.” You promise. “So much.”

"Love you too." He promises, dark eyes watching you as you move on top of him. The best fucking birthday present he could ask for. He hisses when your walls squeeze him, "so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. So fucking perfect." He grunts, thrusting up into you.

You chuckle breathlessly and grind down into his lap more. Feeling his cock twitch and pulse inside you. “Tomorrow- tomorrow do you want to go out?” You ask, leaning down and kissing him again. “Have Tommy watch Sarah?”

He nods, knowing that Sarah will want to spend time with Tommy. "Yes. Wanna - let me take you out for dinner. Wanna treat my lady." He declares, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass and he shifts to sit up, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can surge forward to kiss you.

You had been thinking about treating him, but you can squabble over that later. Now you kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and desperately needing more from him as you start to bounce on his cock.

He grunts as you start to move faster on top of him, his hands caressing your back while your tongue tangles with his. His hands slide down to grab your hips, rocking you on top of him a little faster. Your whimpers against his chin tell him you're close and he is desperate to hold off from cumming inside of you. He wants to feel you squeeze his cock.

“Love you, love you, love you.” You chant, over and over again. Feeling your entire body light up with the purest pleasure. Making you gasp and whine as you rocket towards a familiar peak with Joel. “Baby- I’m gonna- cum- I’m gonna - gonna cum!” You squeal when he hits something perfect inside you and your vision goes white, body locking up in pleasure.

Joel hisses when you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum, and he groans your name. He grabs your ass, lifting you and shifting to lay you down on the bed so he can work you through your orgasm and thrust to his own. He leans down to kiss along your neck, "fuck. I love you, baby. Shit, gonna - I'm gonna cum. You're too fucking tight." He groans, thrusting a half dozen more times before he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whimper, stroking his back as he cums. Filling you up in a way that makes your eyes roll back in bliss. You’re on the pill, so you can enjoy yourself like this. You took them every morning with the antibiotic for the root canal you had just had done. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw.

Joel turns his head to kiss you properly, his tongue lazily sliding against yours as he savors this time with you before he has to go back to work. He’s having dinner with Sarah later, relaxing and he can’t wait for the days when you are curled up beside him as you watch TV with them. “I love you.” Joel murmurs, “best birthday ever.” He grins and nudges his nose against yours until he pulls out when he starts to go soft.

“You know this wasn’t your actual birthday present, right?” You laugh, watching him flop onto his back and spread his legs wide to let his cock dry. “I got you a present.” He perks up at that, his face softening. “You did?” He sounds almost surprised but you nod and climb off the bed to get the gift you had wrapped for him.

Joel takes the wrapped gift from you after you come to sit down beside him and he takes it from you, eyes wide at the beautifully wrapped gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything baby.” He tuts even as he rips off the paper and opens the box. “Oh shit!” He exclaims, eyes widening even more at the sight of the beautiful knife inside. “It’s engraved.” You tell him, pointing to the handle and he traces your initials and his on the handle. “It’s beautiful. I- I love it.” He assures you, leaning in to kiss you.

You are so fucking happy he likes the knife, you had worried that it was too personal. Then you wondered if it wasn’t personal enough. “You always complain you never have a good knife when you need one.” You remind him. “This one can clip onto your belt and you can carry it around anytime.” He’s a working man, handy as fuck and you want him to be able to use something you get for him instead of it just collecting dust.

“It’s so perfect. Just like you.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to caress your cheek, “I’m sorry I can’t go out for dinner tonight. I promised Sarah to spend tonight together and I want to make sure she knows I have time for her. She’s been so good about us and I just - I want to make sure she knows that she’s important. You’re important too.” He adds, “my girls.”

“Baby, I completely understand.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. “Your daughter will always and should always come first. We can go out tomorrow. Tonight is for you and Sarah.” You never want the little girl to feel like you are trying to take her dad away or trying to become her mother. You’ve met her a few times, and you want to ease into a friendship with her.

“Jesus Christ, I’m a lucky bastard.” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. “Now…you said something about lunch?” He raises his eyebrows, his stomach rumbling and you giggle, nodding as you shift off of the bed and he carefully puts his knife back in the box. You clean up and redress just as Joel’s phone rings. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and he sees it’s Tommy. “Hey man, what’s up?” He asks and Tommy sighs, “I’m sorry. I know you’re having your birthday sex but we had a pipe burst over here. We need you.” Tommy says and Joel huffs, rubbing his cheek. “Sure. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and looks at you, “I’m so sorry baby. I gotta - pipe burst over at the house. They need me there to help clean up and fix the mess.”

“Okay.” You nod quickly, knowing that he can’t help that. “Let me fix you something to take with you.” You insist, rushing to the kitchen to put some of the lunch you fixed in a Tupperware. “Shit!” You are rushing and accidentally knock the cake to the floor as Joel walks in. “Damnit, I’m so sorry.”

Joel looks down at the floor and up at you, "baby. Shit - let me-" He kneels down to scoop up the cake. It's completely smashed and he feels awful. "I'm so sorry. Fuck. I - this was supposed to be our time and it's - it's been screwed up." He shakes his head, putting the pieces of cake back in the box, "we can still eat it. Five second rule."

“No.” You huff, not finding the idea of eating cake off the floor appealing. “I’ll get you another cake.” You promise. “Or, I’ll bake you one.” You decide. “I just hate that you don’t have it to take home tonight. I know you haven’t picked up one for yourself.”

Joel stands up, walking over to the sink to clean off his hands. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t need a cake. I got you. And an incredible knife. That’s all I need.” He assures you, cupping your cheeks and leaning in to kiss you. His phone rings again and he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He promises as he grabs his jacket.

You watch as he rushes out of the door and sigh heavily. Looking over at the Tupperware. “Damnit.” You hiss, feeling like a failure because you couldn’t even feed him lunch.

​​Joel is exhausted by the time he makes it home and he grins when he finds Sarah waiting. “I’m sorry.” He promises, Sarah reaches for his present. He playfully shakes the box, humming out and he is shocked when he opens it to discover his watch is repaired. “Thank you, baby girl.” He murmurs, kissing her hair.

Watching the news, you frown at the reports of violence escalating and you turn it off. Joel would be in the middle of a movie with Sarah and you won’t disturb them. Instead, you decide to go take a long bath, wanting to soak the day away.

Joel sighs as he hangs up, shaking his head at his brother who had gotten into trouble. He knew it was his movie night with Sarah, his goddamn birthday, but he still went out and got into it with some asshole at the bar and now Joel’s gotta go bail him out. He strokes Sarah’s hair and shuts the TV off before he carries her to bed. Kissing her forehead, he makes his way to his truck, wondering if you’re still awake.

 ****

 “Shit. What the fuck happened back there?” Tommy pants as Joel speeds away from the station. “I don’t know.” Joel shakes his head, knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. People were fucking biting each other, running fast and making a clicking noise. Like nothing he’s ever seen. “We gotta get out of town.” Tommy declares and Joel agrees. “Let’s get Sarah, get my girl, and get the fuck out of here.” He decides, pushing his foot to the gas to get to his girls faster.

You wake up shortly after midnight, sirens wailing and then there’s a giant explosion. It jolts you out of a dream and you jump out of bed to rush to the window. Opening the curtains and gasping when you see fires, lights and people running and screaming in the streets. “Holy shit!” You gape, standing there for a second before you are running to get dressed and pack a bag. You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you are going to Joel’s.

Joel speeds up, running over the next door neighbor he’s never really liked, and he panics when he sees Sarah standing outside the house, a terrified look on her face. “It’s okay, get in the car. In the car!” He shouts, ushering his daughter into his truck. He’s already tried calling you but the phone lines are down. He just hopes you stayed home to wait for him.

Your bag is slung over your shoulder, bat in your hand and you can see the car. It feels like a million miles away and you have already attracted the attention of some crazy person by unlocking the doors with your key fob. They are running back and forth in front of the door and screeching. “Fuck! Fuck!” You take the chance when they out of sight nto run out to the car, screaming when they appear out of nowhere to chase you, slamming their head into the window when you close the door in time. Fumbling with the keys, you finally get the car started, backing out of the driveway with the tires screeching and you throw it into drive.

Joel frantically drives through the streets, passing a family calling for help and he tells Tommy he can’t stop, he needs to get to you. He drives faster, squealing the tires as he turns into your neighborhood. Your car isn’t on your driveway when he drives past and he starts to panic until he finds your car crashed into a porch of the house down the street, smoke coming from the engine. He gets out, slamming the door, and he runs over to you, trying to get the car door open but it’s stuck. “Baby, are you okay?” He shouts, banging on the window but your face is resting on the steering wheel.

You groan quietly, feeling like you’ve been hit in the head with an anvil. “Wha-“ winching, you open your eyes slowly to find yourself behind the wheel and then you remember. The person who had been attacking you had jumped out in front of you and you had swerved. You jump when Joel bangs on the window again and looks over at him. “Joel!” You cry out, looking around. “Be careful- a man- he- he attacked me!”

Joel spins around when he hears a growl and he grabs the knife you gave him that put on his belt after he rescued Tommy. He raises his arm and stabs the guy in the head. You scream and Joel withdraws his knife and the guy falls to the ground dead. Joel’s heart is pounding and he turns back to the car. “Baby, the door is stuck. Can you climb to the other side?” He asks, banging on the glass.

“I-I think so.” You struggle with the seatbelt for a moment. Nearly panicking when it wouldn’t come undone right away. Finally free, you crawl over the console to the passenger door. Pushing on it for a second before Joel is there to help.

He pulls on the door, trying to open it, and he lifts his leg to brace it on the car. Sarah and Tommy watch as Joel pulls until finally, the door opens and you scream as you try to get out of the car. “What’s wrong, baby?” Joel catches you. 

“My leg. I- I think it’s broken.” You choke, the pain suddenly hitting you and Joel catches you. 

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He promises, lifting you into his arms. 

“We gotta go!” Tommy shouts and Sarah opens the back door for Joel to put you in the back seat. Tommy shifts into the driver's seat and Joel shuts the door, getting into the passenger seat. “You doing okay?” Joel turns to ask you and Sarah after Tommy squeals down the street.

“I think- what the fuck is going on?” You demand, making both Joel and Tommy tense up slightly. Sarah is wide eyed and frantic beside you. 

“They’re saying it’s some kind of virus.” Tommy answers, twisting his hand around the steering wheel. You listen as Sarah starts to question them about possibly having it and you wrap your arm around the little girl’s shoulders. 

“I think we would already be sick.” You try to comfort her. She turns and huddles against you and you try to ignore the way your leg is starting to throb. It feels like a fracture, which can cause problems so you need to find a pharmacy or something for a splint and antibiotics. “Joel…..I need to stop for medicine.” You know the goal is to be safe, but you also know that your leg could get infected.

Joel nods, turning to look at you and Sarah. “Tommy. The pharmacy. On Main Street.” Joel says and Tommy nods, speeding down the road. When you arrive on Main Street, it’s carnage. People screaming and running. Joel is tense, knowing he needs to help you with your leg but he’s also wanting to drive far away right now. “Tommy!” He shouts as a truck speeds down the street just as a plane overhead starts to fall from the sky.

The next few moments seem to go in slow motion. Joel demanding that Tommy plow through the crowd that is running in the streets and you looking back at the plane as it almost slowly hits the ground, although you know it’s traveling at hundreds of miles an hour. The fireball erupts and both you and Sarah cry out as the shockwave sends the force of the explosion and debris into the truck, flipping it. Your world goes dark.

……“Wake up. Baby, wake up.” Joel begs, turning to see your head lolling and Sarah groans as Joel scrambles to get out of the truck. People are screaming and running, others attacking and his heart is pounding in his chest. Joel manages to get Sarah from the truck, pulling her free and he calls out to Tommy. His brother is trying to get out still and Joel curses as he sets Sarah on the ground. “Can you walk?” He asks and she groans, “my ankle.” He growls, “stay here” and crawls back over to the truck. “Baby. Baby, can you move?” He asks, reaching for you.

Groaning, you try to move as Tommy pulls free of the truck, shaking your head. “Joe-“ you are cutting off with a scream and the truck is jolted forward as the back of the upside down truck is smashed into by a police cruiser. “Shit!” You start to panic as the cop car catches on fire. “Joel! Joel!” Your legs are pinned and even if you are able to get free, you still have a fractured leg. You can hear the panic in Joel’s curses and you know you are going to just make it dangerous for him and Sarah. “I’m stuck!” You yell. “Take Sarah and go!”

“No!” He yells, looking up to see Tommy on the other side of the cop car. Sarah is still on the ground. He can’t take both of you. “Tommy! Can you get over here?” He shouts to his brother, desperation in his voice. “Baby, baby. You gotta - just try and crawl out. I can’t reach you.” He is hyperventilating, trying to save you. “Just try!”

“Go on Joel! Get her out of here!” Tommy shouts over the noise of the fire and the chaos around you. “I’ll get her out and meet you by the river.” You know Tommy is giving Joel hope and you look in his eyes, seeing the hesitation. “I’ll meet you there.” You lie. “Take Sarah and get her out of here baby. I love you.” You choke out, knowing you won’t see him again.

Joel feels like he won’t see you again. He swallows down the lump in his throat, tears in his eyes as he leans in, wishing he could kiss you but he can’t reach you. “I love you. I’ll - I’ll see you soon.” He promises but he can’t keep it. The truck creaks and he turns, scooping up Sarah and she screams, “you have to save her!” Joel hyperventilates as he carries his daughter away, knowing he can save her. He is distracted when he stumbles into the alleyway. He sees the man stumbling before he starts to chase them and Joel grunts, running away with Sarah in his arms. He prays that Tommy rescued you.

Tommy grunts and heaves at the section of the bench that is pinning your ankle. Keeping you in the truck. “Sweetheart…” you can hear the defeat in his voice and your own tears are sliding up into your hair. You’re still upside down and soon enough you will lose consciousness. “It’s okay.” You tell him. “Take care of Joel and Sarah, okay?” You beg him. It’s been pure luck that someone hasn’t attacked Tommy yet but he can’t stay out here any longer. “Go.”

Tommy nods, knowing that this will kill Joel but they can’t do anything without calling for machinery and that isn’t going to happen with the mess that’s happening around you. “I’m so sorry.” Tommy murmurs, reaching in to squeeze your hand. “Go.” You choke and Tommy nods, his chest tight as he lets go of your hand and runs down the street to find Joel. 

**** 

“We’re not sick. We’re not sick!” Joel shouts and tries to turn as the soldier fires his gun. He rolls down the hill with Sarah and she chokes on her own blood when he scrambles over to her. “No no no no. Baby girl. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He promises, pulling her against him and pressing his hand to the wound to try and stop the bleeding. He’s losing her. He knows he is. He’s losing her and he’s lost you. His girls. “Baby girl. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He chokes, kissing her hair and he feels her go limp in his arms. Sobs escape his lips as he cradles her just as Tommy arrives without you. It’s his worst nightmare and it’s come true.

**** 

Joel is tense as he rides into the town, Ellie clinging to him. His heart is still pounding from nearly losing her to a rabid dog, and that’s when he hears his name. “Tommy!” He shouts, swinging off of the horse and rushing towards the brother he thought he had lost. “Tommy!” He shouts again and wraps his arms around his brother.

Your head pops up from where you were working on the lights. Knowing that voice, a ghost from your past and the sounds that haunt your dreams at night. Tommy Miller arriving in Jackson had been a complete surprise, but you hadn’t talked to him about Joel. Now even when he had offered to tell him that you were still alive. You had made him promise not to send that message. Maria had agreed and asked Tommy to stop sending communications from the tower. Watching, you see the brothers embrace in the middle of the street and know you need to rush home but before you can turn away, brown eyes that you remember so well turn and lock onto you.

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. You’re standing there staring at him, mouth open like his and he drops his arms from Tommy as he murmurs your name. It’s definitely you. You look older but just as fucking beautiful. He swallows harshly and his heart thumps in his chest. “I need - it’s her. She’s alive.” He chokes, his heart pounding and he feels sick, knowing he left you there alone.

Tommy follows Joel’s gaze and shuffles guiltily. “Yeah.” He nods. “Surprised me when I saw her here.” He admits quietly, still feeling guilty about that night and you being left behind. “Joel-“ he doesn’t have the words to properly apologize, but he has regrets to last a lifetime. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to say anything. Ellie looks on as Joel practically stumbles over to you. His hands reach for you and he lifts his hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re alive.” He chokes, “you are here.” He declares in awe.

“I’m here.” You whisper, knowing that you’ve aged and so has Joel, but you can see that he’s still the same man you had been with so many years ago. Just with a little more mileage on him and what looks like a lifetime of regret. Tommy had told you about Sarah, so you know that in one night he had lost everyone he loved except for his brother. That’s why it’s not surprising to you to see Joel here.

He caresses your cheeks, trying to experience every year you have survived without him by your side through the stories your skin tells and you grip his wrists, clinging to him as a gruff voice calls out, “who the fuck is this?” Joel turns to look over at the guy, ready to defend you or himself in case it’s your husband, but he freezes when he sees the boy. He’s about twenty. His eyes and nose are like Joel’s. “Mom. Are you okay?” The boy comes over to you and Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“JJ…..” you turn your head to watch your son closely, feeling Joel stiffen and you step away from him. “Baby, this is Joel Miller.” You explain carefully, making your son’s frown deepen into a fierce scowl. 

“This is the asshole that left you to die?” He scoffs, glaring at Joel as he looks him up and down. “JJ!” You hiss. “It wasn’t like that!” You had never told your son about that night, but Tommy had told his story and it had gotten around. JJ had taken to thinking the worst of his father.

Ellie watches in shock as she tries to put the pieces together. Joel is still in shock. He has a son. He left you to die and you were pregnant. “I - you were - and I-” He chokes and JJ scoffs, “yeah. You left her to die, you piece of shit. And she was pregnant.” He growls and steps towards Joel who holds his hands up, ready to take what your son gives him. He deserves it.

“STOP IT.” You step in front of your son, your hand on his chest and you push him back to wag your finger in his face. “Joesph Joel Miller, you go back to the house right now.” You scold him. “I will talk to you later, but don’t you dare step foot out of that house until I get back.”

Joel is speechless and your son clenches his jaw, knowing it’s best to not argue with his mother so he steps back from Joel and storms off to your house. Joel watches him, his eyes wide as he looks back at you, desperate for an explanation to be spoken instead of his mind whirling.

Tommy steps up, looking around and the curious spectators. “Maybe we can talk while we get them something to eat?” He asks you. “I know that my brother has the same questions I had.” You look at him and nod, gesturing towards the meal hall. “Come, I - is your little girl hungry?” You ask, trying not to be upset that Joel has another child.

Joel doesn’t explain, he can’t. He’s still in shock so he nods and beckons Ellie to follow as you guide him to the canteen. Tommy gets some food brought over and the woman from earlier sits down. “I think this is a conversation best left between family.” Joel hints and Maria snorts, “I am family.” She holds up her hand to display her wedding ring and Tommy takes her hand in his. “She’s my wife.” Joel is shocked once more, shaking his head. “I- I can’t - when - how?” He needs answers. Now.

You don’t answer, letting Tommy tell his story as he sees fit. He explains how Maria had found him after he left the Fireflies and brought him here. “And I was surprised as shit to find her here.” He nods towards you, bringing Joel’s attention back to you, although he had kept looking at you the entire time. Apparently now it’s time that you explain your story. “That night- uh, Tommy couldn’t get me free.” You know Tommy had told him about leaving you, but only you know what happened after. “Another- there was another car that hit the police cruiser.” You wince slightly, remembering how hot it had been. “It shifted the seat and I could crawl out of the truck. The chaos-“ you shake your head. “It was- quiet then. Not many were left alive.” You look down at your hands. “I crawled to the pharmacy and managed to get inside. It was where I stayed for a week.”

Joel sets his fork down, running his fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. He didn’t try hard enough to get you out. He left you alone. He left you alone and pregnant. The guilt claws at his insides but he doesn’t interrupt you, wanting you to tell your story.

“The pharmacy had a boot and I could use that to walk, so I waited until the antibiotics were in my system and the food in the store was gone.” You huff at yourself. “You remember when I had that root canal?” You ask and he frowns and nods. “Well….antibiotics, umm, they make your birth control not work.” You admit with a small shrug of your shoulders and a wry smile. “The best I can estimate is that we conceived JJ that day, on your birthday.” You admit quietly. “I didn’t realize I was pregnant until months later. When I was at a refugee camp.” You sigh softly, remembering how you had wondered if Joel survived, looking for him everyday during that time. You never found him.

Joel shakes his head, finally opening his eyes to look at you. "I- I left you and you were - Jesus Christ." He hates himself. The loathing from Sarah's death explodes and he chokes. "I am - shit - I am so sorry. I can't - there's - I should've tried harder to get you out of there. I should've - fuck." He feels tears sting in his eyes and he rubs them.

“You had Sarah to take care of.” You remind him softly, reaching out and touching his arm. “I always told you to put her first. I’m not- I don’t blame you Joel. And I’m so sorry about Sarah.” You murmur, ignoring the way that Ellie looks on with fascination between slurping bites of her soup. “JJ doesn’t know the entire story.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I don’t - he’s gotta hate me.” He murmurs and Maria looks at Tommy before her gaze slides to Ellie. “Hey. Why don’t we get you a shower and some new clothes? I can cut your hair too.” Maria offers and Ellie opens her mouth to protest leaving Joel when he says “let’s go. I need some air.” He stands up and grabs his backpack, needing to be outside so he can think. Maria and Tommy stand up and Joel looks at you. “You need some time. I’ll find you later.” You promise and he nods, “soon.”

​​Walking slowly back to your house, you can’t believe that Joel is here. Feeling guilty for the shock of learning that you had his child at the end of the world. You had honestly never expected to see him again. You know about Tess, learning from Tommy that Joel had found some semblance of happiness. You could never begrudge him that. Not even if you had never been involved with anyone yourself. You had been too busy raising JJ, helping build Jackson into what it is now. Surviving this cruel new world. Reaching the near home you share with your son, you sigh and watch as he comes charging out onto the front porch, oddly deflating when he sees you are alone. “He already left?” He demands bitterly and you shake your head. Everyday you are reminded how much JJ is like his father. More serious in his young life, but circumstances had dictated that. “JJ….” You sigh softly. “Sometimes you are so like him.”

Your son shakes his head, “I’m nothing like that piece of shit. He left you alone to die, mom. He left you in that truck. Everyone said uncle Tommy stayed behind to save you but he couldn’t. That bastard ran away, he left you. He left us.” JJ spits as he looks down the street as if he’s looking for Joel.

“You have- had a sister, JJ.” You reach out for him and take his hand, not letting him shake you off. “Half sister. Her name was Sarah and she was twelve the night the world ended.” You explain quietly. “That night, I was trapped in the truck and Sarah was hurt. Joel couldn’t get me out and protect her. Just like I’ve always protected you, Sarah was his priority. That’s how it should have been. How I wanted it. I told him to go. I thought I was going to die and I didn’t want them to die with me.”

JJ shakes his head, trying to process that his half sister died that night. That you sent his father away to save her and he failed. “I can’t - you have never talked about him. Why? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” JJ asks, wanting to know why he’s been kept in the dark.

You swallow, your eyes starting to get watery and you bite your lip for a moment before you compose yourself. Needing to not sob out of anger at the way your life had turned out. “Because he’s- your father is the great love of my life.” You admit quietly, reaching under your shirt and pulling out the heart charm that you have always worn. “For a long time, I had thought he had died. So many died, and I couldn’t-“ you break off when your voice cracks. “I thought it would be easier, but you look just like him. Act just like him.”

JJ reaches for you, knowing that you’re upset. “I’m sorry, mom. Shit. I’m sorry.” He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you. He’s still conflicted but he knows that you will be strong like you always have. “He’s not dead. He’s here and he - he’s got another kid.”

You hum, knowing that it’s surprising. “I can’t blame him. He thought I was dead.” You remind your son. The son you created with Joel on that fateful day. You hug him tightly. “Life is harsh. You find happiness where you can. I found my happiness in raising you. Keeping a piece of him safe.”

JJ sighs, pulling back to look at you. “I’m really like him?” He asks and you chuckle, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Yeah. You have his stubbornness.” JJ snorts and smiles at you, “I want to meet him properly.” You nod, “we can arrange that.” 

**** 

Joel sips the whiskey Tommy handed him, admiring the bar they have set up. A fucking bar. While he’s been out there fighting for his life to get Ellie where she needs to go, to find his brother, the brother in question was drinking in a bar and knew the love of Joel’s life was safe and had his kid. He downs the drink, tapping the bar to silently ask for another. Tommy raises his eyebrows but pours another measure, grabbing himself a glass. “I’m gonna be a dad.” Tommy announces and Joel can’t feel happy for him. Smothered by his own failures as a parent, he scoffs and Tommy shakes his head, “you can’t even be happy for me.” Joel shrugs, “you’ll be fine.”

Tommy sighs, exasperated. “I’m sorry about Sarah, Joel.” He huffs. “But just because she died doesn’t mean I stopped living.” He tells his brother. “You have a grown son.” His brow lifts slightly. “Maybe you should get to know him.”

Joel stares at the wood grain on the counter, knowing that his son will hate him for leaving you. He doubts he’ll ever establish a relationship with him. “I need to take Ellie to Colorado first.” He declares, “I need to help her.” 

Tommy sighs, “you better go find your girl and talk to her. Ellie will be fine with Maria.” Tommy assures his brother who nods, knowing he needs to talk to you properly. He downs the rest of the whiskey and pushes away from the bar, “show me the way.”

You bring JJ into the house, setting the kettle on to boil so you can sit down and talk with him. Answering any question frankly and telling him more about the man who had helped create him. Sharing parts of yourself that you had kept private for so long and smiling at the memories.

Joel shuffles awkwardly on the threshold of the place you call home. It’s so bizarre being in Jackson, like a mirror image of a time he thought was long gone but this little piece of paradise in Wyoming has his heart relaxing. He’s not worried about dying here. He’s not worried about Ellie getting hurt. He knocks on your door, anxiously awaiting your son to come and punch him. He deserves it and more.

Your forehead furrows slightly and you look up from your tea. “Do you-“ 

JJ stands, shaking his head. “I’ll get the door. It’s probably Matt. We were going to catch the movie after we feed the pigs.” Everyone has their assigned chores and JJ and his best friend were currently on duty with the animals. 

“Okay.” You nod, looking back down at the tea.

Joel looks up as the door opens and he inhales deeply when he sees JJ standing there. “I, uh, guess I should introduce myself properly. I’m Joel Miller.” He holds his hand out and the boy takes it, squeezing it harder than necessary but Joel understands his protectiveness and anger. 

“Joseph Joel Miller.” He responds and Joel can’t believe you named the boy after him when he left you for dead. 

Joel waits until his hand is freed before he scratches his cheek, “I didn’t want to leave your mother. I just - that night - you didn’t live through the chaos. I should’ve stayed. I have regretted it every damn day of my life.” He confesses, “and I’m sorry.” He adds and JJ nods, pushing the door open. “Better if you said it to her.” Joel nods, stepping into the house and he looks around, “she’s in the kitchen.” JJ announces and Joel steps further into the house until he finds the kitchen and you.

When you hear footsteps approaching, you look up, surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway. “Joel.” You shoot out of your seat and stand awkwardly. Wondering if he is here to chew you out for keeping your son from him. “I- do you want some tea?”

Joel knows he should have something to counter the whiskey. He wants to be lucid when he has this conversation with you. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart.” He steps towards the table and JJ nods when he pulls out the chair. He sits down and watches you pour out some tea for him. You’re still as beautiful as the day he left you.

“I’ve been talking to JJ.” You explain. “Telling him about that night in more detail. So he can apologize for being so rude to you.” You glance at your son pointedly, and he sighs, toying with his teacup. 

“Sorry I was rude to you.” He tells Joel, not exactly sincere but it’s not as hostile as it had been before. You snort to yourself and bump him when you move to put the kettle back on the stove.

Joel shifts in his seat as he nods at his son, "if it was my momma, I would've punched the asshole who left her to die so I think I got off easy." He says to the boy who has his eyes but your hair and mouth. Joel knows he must have your smile "I am sorry for what happened that night, I never forgave myself. I had nightmares for a long time after that night. Because of all of it." He admits and JJ fiddles with the delicate cup in his hands. "Mom said you lost your daughter...my half sister, Sarah." Joel sighs, his chest tightening in the same way it has since losing his little girl. "She got shot by a soldier. He thought - he thought we were infected and there was nothing - she died in my arms." He finishes with a whisper.

You close your eyes, almost ready to sit down when he says that and you reach out for his arm. “I am so sorry.” You whisper quietly. You had respected his love for his daughter, but it was after you had JJ had you truly understood that willingness to die for your child, or kill for them. 

JJ looks down sadly. “What was she like?” He asks curiously

Joel offers his son a rare smile. “She was funny. She would gang up on me with Tommy, play pranks on me. She was so damn pretty. I was worried about when she was gonna start dating. I was preparing my 9 mil for the boys…if she liked boys. We never established that.” He frowns, “she was a girly girl. Loved pink. She was caring too. Looked after me. Loved cooking. She practically kept me and Tommy fed.” He gets lost in his memories as he taps his fingers on the kitchen table.

JJ listens closely, building a vision of this sister he will never know in his mind. He doesn’t even know if there is a picture of her around and he doesn’t want to ask. “Well, Tommy is still a horrible cook.” He offers with a grin. “Mom and I eat at home on nights he helps in the communal kitchen.”

Joel snorts, “he’s a terrible cook. So am I. I can skin and cook a rabbit but actually spices? Hopeless.” He admits and JJ chuckles. “What about…you have another daughter?” He inquires and Joel places his hand flat on the table. “She’s not mine, biologically. She’s from Boston. Her mom died when she was born and she needs to get to Colorado. Someone I know asked me to take her there and I am.” He discloses, “she’s important. She’s -” He doesn’t know if he should say why because of Ellie’s safety but it’s you, and his son. “She was bitten back in Boston. She’s still alive. She’s - she could be the key to a cure.”

You rear back in surprise. Trying to comprehend what that might mean for the curse that has plagued the world since that night twenty years ago. “Joel-“ you shake your head and huff. “That’s- you can’t tell anyone here.” You caution him. “Tommy, that’s it. I don’t know what the council could do, but we don’t have the facilities here. What’s in Colorado?”

"Doctors. Apparently they are working on a cure. She wants to get over there and I need to take her. She's - she's important to me now." He admits, "I have to help her."

Joel has had an entire life without you. Loved and lost and apparently lost again since Tess isn’t with him. Tommy had explained their relationship and while your heart ached at Joel moving on, it was natural. You couldn’t have expected him to pine over you for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t be fair. It doesn’t matter that you have done that exact thing. “I see.” You nod and look down at your tea cup. “We will help however we can.”

Joel reaches for your hand, “I have to finish my journey with her but then I’ll come straight back. We need - I can’t - unless you want me to stay away.” He murmurs, knowing you might hate him for leaving you to die.

“I don’t want you to stay away.” You murmur softly. “I know that you didn’t have the best introduction to your son, but I want you to know him. For him to know you.” You smile at him, wondering if he’s just trying to understand the last twenty years or if this means he still cares about you in some small way.

Joel nods, offering you a smile and it feels strange on his face. Foreign. He doesn’t smile often. He swallows harshly and looks over at JJ who nods, reluctance and curiosity in his eyes. “As soon as I help Ellie, I’ll come back and we will get to know each other.”

“Did Tommy get a house sorted for you to stay in?” You ask, wondering if he’s going to need to stay with you. Or if Tommy had been planning on that.

Joel frowns, the concept of a house is also foreign to him. “I haven’t - we didn’t really get a chance to discuss where we would stay.” He admits, “Ellie is with Maria. I need to find her and speak to Tommy.” He also needs some air, a moment to process everything he’s discovered today.

“Oh, okay.” You pull your hand out of his and stand up. “She’s probably at Maria and Tommy’s house.” You move to the window and point. “Two blocks that way.”

Joel stands up, brushing down his pants, and he needs a shower but that can wait. He makes his way down the hall followed by you, JJ still in the kitchen. He reaches up to cup your cheek, “I’ll be back if you want me. I’m so sorry I left you, baby.”

“Joel….” You don’t want him to leave and feel guilty. Being distracted out here can get you killed. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” You murmur gently. “I’m sorry that leaving didn’t save Sarah.” You cover his hand with your own. “Be safe and come back as soon as you can.”

He nods, “I gotta - I’m gonna find Ellie and then I’ll be back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He makes his way outside and follows the directions you gave him until he comes to Tommy’s house and he knocks on the door.

Tommy opens the door to find Joel on the porch and he glances behind him to see if anyone else is there. “You looking for Ellie?” He asks, not sure if Joel is still in a tizzy about Maria being pregnant, or you being alive.

Joel nods, “can we talk first? I just - I need to talk to someone about all of this.” He confesses, knowing he isn’t someone who bares his feelings but he needs to talk to his brother, the one person who knows about everything.

“Yeah.” Joel looks almost panicked, or defeated and he looks down at his boots. They are worn out and held together with duct tape. “Come on, let’s get you some shoes.” He grabs his jacket and steps out of the house, pulling it on.

Joel follows his brother to the cobbler. It’s insane to know that there’s a cobbler in this world he has yet to experience. He removes his tattered boots and sits down, swallowing harshly. “I was so afraid.” Joel confesses, “and I have dreams. Every night.” 

“What kind of dreams?” Tommy asks, frowning at his older brother. 

Joel shakes his head, “I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up ... I've lost something. I'm failing in my sleep. It's all I do. It's all I've ever done ... is fail her. Again and again." Her is the women closest to him. Sarah. Ellie. You. He has failed you all and tears sting in his eyes as he tries to process that he’s failed again. He failed you by leaving you pregnant in a world that wanted you dead.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Tommy shakes his head. “There was no easy way out of that situation. She was stuck. Hell, she still walks with a limp on really cold days. If you had got her out, you don’t think those sons of bitches wouldn’t have shot her too?”

Joel chokes at the thought. “I can’t have her again. I failed her. She should hate me. She shouldn’t be with me.” He shakes his head, a tear falling from his eye. “He should hate me. He does. I deserve to be sent away and never let back in.”

Tommy snorts, hating that Joel is letting his demons overrule his heart. He deserves this, he deserves to be free to love again. Especially since he lost Tess. Tess had been a saving grace for him, and even if he didn’t love her completely, it was only because he still loved you. “You wanna know why she wouldn’t let me tell you that she was alive?” Tommy asks Joel, waiting until his older brother looks up at him. “Because you had moved on. You had Tess. You were….content.” Tommy shrugs. “She loves you so much that knowing you were okay was enough for her.”

Joel wipes his cheeks, “I can’t let her have me back. I need to go. You need to take Ellie to Colorado for me. I need to go.” He chokes, knowing he won’t be able to be the man that you need.

“You are your own worst enemy.” Tommy tells him, shaking his head. Joel closes his eyes but whispers a quiet “please”, his tone agonized. “Yeah, alright.” Tommy sighs. “I’ll do it.”

Joel exhales shakily, standing up, and Tommy works on getting him a pair of shoes. He sighs and tries the shoes on, knowing this will be the pair that last him till the end of his days. He knows he won’t make it alone in the wilderness and he deserves to go. It’s time. When he comes back to Tommy’s house, he’s exhausted but he finds Ellie reading a diary. “Is this all they had to worry about? Boys and school?” She scoffs, flipping the page. The next words that come out of Joel’s mouth are ones he will regret. Saying that Ellie isn’t his kid.

Ellie’s face drops as Joel slams out of the room she had picked for herself. Hurt and furious at what she feels like is a betrayal. She hears Joel slam the door shut of the room down the hall before she grabs her jacket and slips out of the house. She needs to talk to someone and it might as well be you.

Joel exhales shakily, his hands shaking and chest heaving while his heart pounds in his chest. He’s failed again. He has failed everyone in his life and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He can’t fail Ellie again. He decides then and there that he’s taking her to Colorado.

The knock on the door is later than you expected. JJ is still at the movie and you wonder if Joel has come back with more questions. Opening the door, you find Ellie, her face drawn and distraught and you immediately step back. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Ellie shakes her head, tears in her eyes, and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around your waist. “He- he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I just - I feel so fucking lost.” She chokes, burying her face into you.

It must be because you are a mother, or maybe because of your history with Joel for her to come to you. Wrapping your arms around her, you hug the distraught teen tightly. “He does want you.” You promise her softly. “He’s afraid of losing you.”

Ellie shakes her head, “he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I’m an orphan and I don’t know where the hell I belong. I need - he was gonna take me to Colorado and I wanted him to take me. I thought - I kinda wanted him to love me.” She chokes, “as a daughter.”

“Sweet girl.” You hold onto her tighter, unsure of why she’s orphaned, but she’s pretty sure it has something to do with the fucked up world. “That’s what scares him. He does.” You rub her back gently. “He loved Sarah with every fiber of her being and Tommy has told me what her dying did to him. It broke him, made him brittle and hard. He’s scared to open himself up again. But he will. He will, for you.”

Ellie sniffs, unused to being so vulnerable. Her whole life she’s had to be strong, to act like nothing bothers her. She swallows harshly and pulls back from you. “Can you walk me back to Tommy’s - I don’t - I don’t know where it is.” She admits, feeling embarrassed by her outburst.

“I can.” You nod and drop your arms from around the younger girl. “Or I can make you some tea?” You offer, knowing she still might be emotional. “You don’t have to go. I was planning on making some for myself and then baking some scones.” You smile. “We’ve grown our own wheat last summer and we are finally able to bake safely again.

Ellie’s eyes widen. She has never baked. She nods, wiping her eyes, and she follows you into the house. She is happy that you comforted her, helped her through a difficult moment. She’s never had a mother figure. Even Marlene was such a brief interaction in her life.

You find Ellie to be completely amazing. She’s witty and sarcastic, harder than Sarah was, but much the same with her sense of humor. It makes sense, because Sarah had been allowed to be innocent whereas Ellie has grown up in a harsher world. Once the scones slide into the oven, you set the timer and smile. “Now, you will have to take half of them when you and Joel go on your trip to Colorado.” You tell her. “You did most of the work.”

Ellie wonders if this is what life was like before the outbreak. If it was this easy and safe and fun. "I don' think Joel is going to take me to Colorado." She sighs, "so looks like more scones for me."

“I don’t know…” you smirk slightly. “You might not want to share them with him once you try them.” It’s a joke, not a particularly good one, but she does huff in slight amusement. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.” She reveals, “I want to get there as soon as possible because…” She steps towards you, pulling on the sleeve of her shirt to show you the healed teeth marks on her arm.

“I think I am the cure to all of this bullshit.”

You had heard it from Joel, but to see the not one, but two scars on her arm is nothing short of amazing. You know it must be true, she would have never gotten past the dogs otherwise. “Amazing.” You whisper quietly, reaching out to tracing the marks. “That’s- you’re amazing.”

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t know about that. I want to give people a chance. To have the life that we used to have. Go to the mall. The movies.” She sighs, dreaming of a future where she could be a normal teenager.

“We are starting to reclaim some of that.” You remind her gently. “Here. We are expanding our lives from just survival. And you are welcomed to stay here and not go to Colorado.” You chuckle quietly. “Saving the world is a tough burden to shoulder and no one would blame you if you didn’t want to.”

Ellie shakes her head, “I need to. It’s what I need to do. I need to save someone. I couldn’t save my friend. She - she got bit when I did and I - I have to save someone. Even if it’s one person.” She murmurs, closing her eyes for a second.

You reach out for her, patting her hand gently. “I understand.” You promise. “I feel guilty now, I got to keep my child and raise him, while Joel lost his.” You sigh softly. “Life sucks sometimes, huh?”

She snorts, “yeah. It does. So���Joel’s got a kid?” She asks and you nod, “yeah. He’s just like him sometimes.” Ellie whistles, “oh boy. That’s gonna be interesting to see.” You giggle, “he has his father’s stubbornness. Something I’m sure you know.” You nudge her and she nods, “abso-fucking-lutely.”

The two of you sit in the silence for another moment until Ellie clears her throat. “What was he like before? Before the outbreak?” She asks curiously. 

You smile, thinking about that time fondly. “Hard working. A flirt.” You giggle quietly when Ellie makes a disgusted face. “He was a single father, so he did everything for Sarah. Loved music, loved, loved going out where live bands were playing classic rock. And a surprisingly good dancer.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, “Joel used to dance? No fucking way!” She shakes her head and you nod, “he was good.” She can’t believe it but she knows that the harsh man he is today isn’t the same man he was before he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Joel…dancing.” She trails off and snorts, “can’t believe it.”

You hum, trying to remember that Ellie only knows the man after the heartbreak. “Joel wants to come back to Jackson, after you’re done saving the world.” You tell her. “Maybe you’ll come back with him?”

Ellie nods, "I would like to but this is important. The cure. A possible cure. I need to do what I can." She declares and you nod, "let's get you back to Tommy's. I'm sure you want to sleep in a proper bed." Ellie grins, "fuck yeah."

You insist on walking Ellie. It doesn’t matter that Jackson is safe. She feels lost and alone and you want her to know that she isn’t. That she has someone who will look after her. When you round the corner and Tommy’s comes into sight, the house next door has a single light on upstairs and you can see a figure pacing in front of the windows. “Joel is still awake.”

Ellie turns to you, "thanks for...well, you know." She shrugs and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder. "I am always here. I'll be here if you decide to come back." You promise and she surges forward to hug you. "Thank you." She whispers, squeezing you for a second before she pulls away and makes her way into Tommy's house. You look up at the window where Joel is pacing, wondering what he's thinking, and you turn on your heel to head home. Joel needs time to process and so do you.

**** You don’t sleep well, up before the sun and you get dressed in the dark while JJ snores away down the hall. Making your way to the stables with the hope that you didn’t miss Joel and Ellie leaving. Despite what the teenager told you, you know that Joel wouldn’t be satisfied unless he saw it through. He was the one that delivered her safely to the doctors for a cure.

****

Joel pats the horse as he finishes strapping on the saddlebags when Ellie arrives with Tommy in the stable. His dark eyes flick to where you are standing with JJ behind them. "You ready to go, kid?" He asks Ellie, not wanting to address the elephant in the room.

You step out from the stall, holding Joel’s bag as you smirk, Ellie immediately choosing Joel over Tommy as her travel companion. You had found Joel thinking about sneaking away and unable to do it, especially when he had seen you had come to see him off. “Told ya.” You tell the younger girl, pleasantly surprised to see JJ with them.

Joel doesn't let his happiness show on his face. The kid picked him. His heart nearly bursts and he knows he has to protect her, see her to the end of her journey. Joel helps her onto the horse and he steps over to you, reaching for your hand. "I am going to come back...if you want me to."

You stare into his eyes and nod. “You better come back, Miller.” You threaten softly. “Keep her safe. She loves you.”

He nods, "I'll be back as soon as I can." He promises even though you both know deep down it's impossible to keep it when he's out in the wilderness. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his eyes closing as he breathes you in.

JJ shuffles, coming up beside you and when Joel pulls away, you see the worry in your son’s eyes. “When you come back, I’d like to- to, uh, talk.” He admits. “So, uh, try not to die?”

Joel snorts, reaching out to squeeze his son’s upper arm. “I’ll be back.” He promises just as much as he can to his son. “You keep each other safe, yeah?” He says and JJ nods, standing straighter. Joel’s eyes flick over to Tommy who offers him a nod and Joel steps back, swinging his leg over after placing his foot in the stirrup.

You help Ellie up, patting her leg gently and smiling at her. “Share the scones.” You remind her with a wink. She nods, although she’s pouting so you wonder if she had already eaten some and really didn’t want to share. Stepping back from the horse, you meet Joel’s eyes again and you smile at him. “Be safe.”

Joel offers you one more nod, kicking the flank of the horse as he starts to move, beginning the journey to Colorado and the venture back into the unknown. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen but he will fight tooth and nail to get back to you and JJ. He owes you his return so he can make up for leaving you that fateful night.

****

It’s summer and there still hasn’t been any sign of Joel. You’ve gone on the scouting parties, manned the walls, talked to everyone who had come back. It’s been months, and you are worried. Of course, you don’t say anything to JJ, not wanting to upset your son, but it shouldn’t have taken this long. A few weeks, a month at most. Something’s happened and you’ve been talking to Tommy about going out to look for them. He says no, but you need to.

Joel stumbles slightly as he and Ellie walk the final stretch back to Jackson. He’s filthy, exhausted, hungry, and the guilt hangs over him that he saves Ellie, but damned the world to continue to exist in this damned reality. He is about to approach the gates when Maria rides out on a horse with several others and her eyes widen at the sight of her brother in law. “Get them inside.” She demands, seeing how exhausted the pair are.

The knock at the door comes rushed, and you hurry, not sure who it might be. But your gasp of surprise is loud when you see Maria and Tommy with an exhausted and bedraggled Joel and Ellie. “You’re back!” You leap back to let them into the house and you can tell that it’s been a hard journey. “Oh god, are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Both.” Ellie groans, her body aching from the arduous journey on foot and Joel reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest. He knows he stinks but he just needs to know he’s alive, that he made it back to you.

“You’re here.” You sag in relief against him, almost in tears for how relieved you are. “Thought you might want them to stay with you.” Tommy speaks up and grins at you with a small wink. “I’ll send some clothes over for them both after they get a bath and sleep for a few days.”

Joel lets go of you, the weight of the word still on his shoulders and he hates how his eyes water with unshed tears. He turns his head away so no one sees and you distract Ellie, “you want a shower? We have hot water and I just made some new soap.” 

Ellie grins, “fuck yes.” She is ready to clean up and she follows you upstairs while you give Joel a minute. He looks at JJ and the boy steps forward to hug his father. He’s seen the worry in your eyes as you wait each day, watching to see if he would return and JJ realized that a man like that, a man that you would wait for, must be a man he could aspire to be. His uncle Tommy had explained more about what happened that night and he understands a little more about how Joel felt, how torn he had been to make the decision to leave you. Joel is shocked but pats the boy’s back, comforting his son. The son he now can get to know properly.

Upstairs, Ellie gives you a big hug. Just as emotional as the one Joel had given you and despite the fact that she desperately needs a bath, you kiss the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re back, kiddo.” You murmur softly, squeezing her tight. You are glad to see her, just as much as Joel, the girl meaning the world to your former lover. The man you still love.

JJ steps back, clearing his throat, and Joel offers him a small smile, knowing it’s got to be hard for him to process all of this shit. Ellie is showering so Joel hovers until JJ escorts him to the kitchen, preparing him a drink and starts on something to eat.

You set a set of pajamas down on the bed that Ellie will use. The house is a three bedroom and you always keep the other room ready for anyone that might need it. She can claim it forever for all you care, although you aren’t sure if Joel wants to share a room or a bed with you. You come downstairs and smile at JJ cooking. “You want me to finish up?”

JJ shakes his head, "I got it, mom." You nod and look over at Joel who is sipping a glass of water. "You want something stronger? Tommy gave me a bottle of whiskey for my birthday." You declare and Joel sighs softly, "I missed so many birthdays." He looks over at JJ, wondering how his birthdays were as a kid.

“You’re here for them now.” You remind him softly, aware that no matter what he wishes, you can’t turn back time. You walk over to a cabinet to pull out a couple of glasses and change your mind and get three. Your son can have a drink with his father. You smile as you get the ice and move over to the table. “I’ll grab the bottle.”

Joel watches you as you move around the kitchen. You’re still fucking gorgeous and he feels so lucky to have found you again, that you didn’t die that night. You pour three measures and slide the glass over to Joel and you look over at JJ just as he turns off the stove. “Here you go.” You nudge the glass towards him and he raises his eyebrows, “you sure, mom?”

“You’re old enough.” You promise, grinning at him. “I think it’s a right of passage to have a drink with your dad.” You tell him, pulling out a seat and sitting down.

JJ grins, shifting to sit down and he picks up the glass. He sniffs the liquid and winces, making Joel chuckle slightly. “To survivin’.” He toasts, knowing that the only thing anyone wants is to survive but it looks like you and JJ have been thriving in Jackson.

“To surviving.” You agree, holding your glass up and JJ does the same. You take a sip of your drink and your son follows his father’s example and tosses back the entire thing. It’s funny to watch him choke and sputter, a light hearted moment for you to share.

Joel smirks at the boy struggling to drink the harsh liquor and he winks at his son who looks down at the table in embarrassment. “The food is ready.” JJ announces and Joel clears his throat, “I should shower first.” You shake your head, “don’t be silly. The food is hot. Shower after. I’ll go get Ellie.” Joel nods and pours himself another glass, needing it after he nearly died out there.

You stand up and move to the staircase so you can get the younger girl, finding her coming out onto the landing. “Dinner is ready. I know you have to be ready for a hot meal.”

Joel watches JJ serve up the food and he sets the plates down on the table just as Ellie comes downstairs. The guilt swirls in Joel’s stomach. He lied to her. He did it for his own selfish reasons. He swallows harshly and sets the glass down just as Ellie sits down at the table. “Taking a shower with hot water is the fucking best.”

You laugh and nod as you sit down. “I agree. Getting electricity back has been amazing for us. Hot baths do wonders for cramps too.” You inform her with a wink.

Ellie flushes but offers you a small smile, picking up the fork so she can dig into the first hot meal she’s had for weeks. Joel watches JJ dig in and his eyes flit over to you, knowing he still needs to talk to you. He’s had a lot of time to think during the long journey and he realized during the moments that he nearly died that he doesn’t want to keep living in the past.

“Is something missing?” You ask, making Joel shake his head as he picks up his fork. “No.” He assures you, digging in. You smile and watch as Ellie clears her plate quickly. “There’s more.” You promise, nodding towards the stove. “Take as much as you want. There’s plenty for everyone.”

Joel eats enough until he feels sick. He doesn’t want to make himself sick, or to waste the food. He stands up, ready to clean the dishes when JJ places a hand on his shoulder. “I got it, dad.” He says and Joel’s heart clenches at the word. He nods and reaches up to touch his son’s hand. “I better shower.” Joel says, suddenly feeling the grime on his skin.

You nod and push back from your place. “I’ll show you.” You offer quickly, ignoring a smirk from Ellie. You only want to show him to the master bathroom and lay out some sweats and underwear that the long dead last owner of the home had left behind. They were soft and fresh, you kept the clothes in a cedar lined trunk after washing them, knowing they might be useful.

Joel follows you up the stairs and into the master bedroom, past the bed you sleep in to enter the bathroom. You turn on the shower for him and he sits on the toilet so he can remove his boots and socks. Wiggling his toes in relief, he works on shrugging off his shirts.

“Oh my god!” You gasp when his chest is revealed, a torn, jagged wound in his side that is most definitely fresh on display. “Fuck. What happened?” You demand, moving over to him and touching the ragged scar gently. It’s obvious it had been stitched closed, but it’s still very tender looking in your opinion.

He winces, “I - I got stabbed. We got to Denver and no one was there. Well, that’s what I thought. Raiders were there. They found us and before we could escape, one of them stabbed me with a broken baseball bat and I nearly died. Ellie - she saved me but she was taken and she nearly - the leader. He nearly - I failed her again.” Joel finishes in a whisper, his head dropping between his shoulders.

“Oh shit….” You whisper softly, imagining the horrors she had endured until Joel had rescued her. “But you got her back. You saved her.” Joel snorts and shakes his head. “She saved herself.” He argues and you know there is more to it than that. “And how many did you kill to get to her?”

Joel exhales shakily, “they were gonna- she hasn’t been the same since. He took something from her. Thank fuck he didn’t touch her but he changed her. When we got to the doctor. They were going to kill her. Take her goddamn brain out and I- I couldn’t let them do it. I kept thinking about Sarah and how I couldn’t save her but I could try and save Ellie. I was fuckin’ selfish. I saved her over the world possibly getting a cure and she would hate me. I told her that there wasn’t a cure. I couldn’t let her die.” He chokes, reaching up to rub his eyes.

You try to keep up with his rambling explanation and all you really understand is that he saved her from dying and the world was going to continue on. “Oh my god.” You sit back on your heels in front of him and shake your head after a moment. “You saved her, Joel. Her life matters and if a doctor was going to take her brain? Well, they are wrong. Jesus.” You huff. “Ethics went to shit in this world, I know, but doctors? They aren’t supposed to murder people for some hypothetical cure. What if it’s just not possible? They would have killed an amazing kid for fucking nothing. Nothing. You weren’t selfish. You were being her protector. Her dad.”

Joel swallows, “I lied to her. Told her there was no cure. I couldn’t tell her that I saved her because I was selfish. That she didn’t get a damn choice because I can’t live without her.” He lowers his hands and looks at you, “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“You don’t have to.” You promise quietly, even though you can’t guarantee him anything. You couldn’t even guarantee him that in the old world you both knew.

He closes his eyes again, “I never stopped loving you, you know? Even when I thought you were dead. No one could ever replace you in my heart. The woman I was with in the QZ…Tess…I could never give her all of me and she knew it. I explained that I’d lost you and she understood.” He confesses, “I know…you might’ve moved on but I just want you to know that I will always love you.”

“Joel….” You know that he might blame himself for living once you tell him this, but you feel like he should know. “There’s never been anyone but you.” You murmur softly. “I had JJ, I had a piece of you, I didn’t need anything else.” You reach under your shirt and pull out the necklace he had given you not too long before the world ended. “I kept this close the entire time and never stopped loving you. That’s why I wouldn’t let Tommy tell you I was alive. You were happy, I thought.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of the small gold heart still around your neck that Joel had gotten you for Valentine’s Day before the outbreak. “God, baby.” He reaches out to caress the gold heart until he lets go of it and reaches up to caress your cheek. “Can you shower with me?” He asks, not wanting to let you go just yet.

The request isn’t sexual, but it is intimate. Still, you don’t hesitate to nod. You don’t want to let him go and you can help him clean up. He’s exhausted and worn down. In need of some tenderness, something you can provide. “Let me help you.” You agree quietly.

Joel nods, relieved that he can finally let go of the tension that’s been coiled inside of his body for so long. He stands up, reaching for his belt to remove it and he pushes his tattered jeans down along with the threadbare boxers, standing naked in front of you for the first time in decades.

He’s older, softer slightly than he had been when he was in his thirties, but he’s still handsome. His body had somehow gotten broader, there’s still strength rather than weakness. You stand up and slowly start to undress yourself. Still watching him as he keeps his eyes on you. Your heart beating faster and your body tingling.

He watches you strip off and his stomach twists. You’re still so fucking gorgeous. Still so incredibly out of his league. You kick your clothes aside and reach in to check the water temperature. Joel groans as he steps into the shower, the hot water hitting his back and he watches blood and dirt swirl down the drain. “Let me clean off first.” He tells you, not wanting you to be in the dirty water.

You smile and just watch. Feeling yourself starting to get wet. This is the man you have longed to touch again for the past twenty years. The man you’ve loved for all that time. Your attraction to him hasn’t faded, it’s still as sharp as it was the last time you touched him, the day you made JJ. Joel groans slightly and his cock twitches, making you aware that you had been staring at it.

Joel watches you as you watch him, washing his hair as more grime flows down the drain. When he's certain he's clean, he reaches for you. "Come here, baby." He murmurs, helping you into the shower. He turns so you are under the water, and he reaches for the soap to wash you, his calloused hands gentle as he rubs your skin

“I should be washing you.” You murmur softly in protest, but Joel just huffs and continues to touch you. You can’t help the small groan of pleasure, always loving how he touched you and it’s been sorely missed since you had been apart.

"I have missed out on far too much. Leaving you in that truck...I should've tried harder to save you. Maybe Sarah would still be alive if I had." He voices a thought that has haunted him since he found out you are alive. "I've lost so much time with you...with JJ."

“I never blamed you.” You promise, reaching up and caressing his shoulders. “You did the best you could that night. You were - you didn’t run off because you were afraid. I know you didn’t want to leave me, baby.”

Joel sighs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours while the hot water hits your back. “I still love you. Never stopped.” He confesses, his hands caressing your back, pulling you closer so you are pressed against him. His cock is half hard between you, pressing against your hip.

“I still love you too.” You promise. “I told you, it’s always been you, baby.” You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying the closeness between you. “Do you want to get some rest? I know you have to be exhausted. You and Ellie are safe now, you can sleep.”

"Yeah." His voice is gruff, rough with lust for you. "I want - I want you first. If you want that." He sounds unsure but he doesn't want to push you into anything.

Your cunt clenches and you nod. “I want you too.” You confess. “Let’s go to bed. I want you to relax and let me ride you again. Like the last time.”

Joel nods, reaching behind you to shut off the water and he twists so he can grab a towel, wrapping you in it before grabbing his own to dry off. He feels so much better now that he's clean and he's exhausted but he also wants you. He needs you.

You set out a tooth brush for Joel, knowing that it feels amazing after being able to brush your teeth and you quickly grab your own. You’re sure that after you have sex, Joel will fall asleep.

He grabs the toothbrush, scrubbing his teeth until he feels satisfied that they are clean. He looks at you in the mirror, watching you do the same thing and it's like a flashback to a time when getting ready was a normal occurrence between you. He spits and rinses his mouth and you do the same. When you turn off the faucet, he cups your cheeks and leans in to kiss you, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

You whimper into his mouth. Not caring that you are still in towels, you turn to guide him back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him inside you again. Groaning and reaching for the towel at his waist so you can pull it off him. “I love you.” You gasp when he pulls back.

Joel caresses your back, ripping the towel from your body to toss it to the floor and he spins to lay you down on the bed. He's been gone for so long, there's not enough kisses he can press to your skin to make up for his absence, for leaving you. He kisses you again, hovering over your body, and he migrates his kisses down your neck. Pressing a kiss to the gold of your necklace, he continues his journey until he's taking your nipple into his mouth.

It’s been a long time since your breasts carried milk, but you feel as if Joel is trying to feed from you. Moaning, you sink your fingers into his wet hair and arch your back to let him explore as he wants.

He sucks on your nipple, biting and licking at the bud until he’s satisfied and he kisses down your stomach. Lathing extra attention on the faded stretch marks that display where you carried his son inside of you. “Fuck, I love you.” He chokes, pushing your thighs apart so he can settle between them.

"Joel." You shiver in anticipation. It's been a long goddamn time since you've had pleasure that didn't come at your own fingertips, over twenty years. Oral had been a favorite of yours and Joel had always been amazing at eating pussy. "Baby, you don't have to- I know you are tired."

“I want to.” He promises, leaning in to nudge his nose at the neatly trimmed curls at the apex of your thighs. He breathes you in and caresses your thighs, leaning closer to slide his tongue through your folds. He groans at the familiar heady taste of your arousal, and he lifts his gaze to watch you as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

With a groan, your head slips back on the pillow a little, already overstimulated by just the first licks of his tongue. "Oh shit." You whimper, reaching down and running your fingers through his hair as he slowly savors you. Even though things have changed, he's obviously the same when it comes to giving you attention.

He sucks on your clit and slides his tongue lower to push inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit. His hand slides up to squeeze your breast, wanting you to fall apart before you take him inside of you for the first time in twenty years. He loves the way your fingers tug on his hair, still wet from the shower, and he groans into your flesh.

You can’t help the way your hips start to rock down onto his face. Grinding down on his tongue and moaning softly. He squeezes your breast again, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. He remembers how you like a little pain with your pleasure.

Joel curls his tongue inside of you, shaking his head so you are stimulated more. He wants you to cum for him, to make up for lost time. His other hand reaches for yours, squeezing it as he slides his tongue through your folds.

All you hear is your own panting moans and the slick sounds of Joel’s tongue as he laps at your clit. Making you bite your lip and whimper as your orgasm looms close. “Joel-“ you whine. “I’m so close.”

He flicks his tongue over your clit a little faster, wrapping his lips around your clit to send you over the edge. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to taste you again.

You don’t cum with a scream, it’s not ripping through you like a freight train. It floods your body with pleasure and makes your body tighten, shaking silently as you gasp. It’s better than anything you’ve had in so long and your stomach heaves in pleasure.

He works you through it, lapping at your cum, and he loves how you run your fingers through his hair, pulling on it as your hips jerk. "I fucking love you." He murmurs, kissing along your thigh.

Panting quietly, you can’t help but giggle. “I love you too.” You promise. “Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly, greedy for more of him. Ready to feel full and complete for the first time in twenty years.

"I want to fuck you." He murmurs, kissing along your body until he's hovering over you. His lips find yours as he kneels between your legs. He reaches down to squeeze his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he starts to push inside of you.

You would close your eyes, but you want his rugged face etched into your mind. Watching the weathered brow and eyes that have been haunting you as he sinks into you. Your legs hitch up at his waist so he can push deeper, whining softly at the gorgeous stretch of him inside you.

He closes his eyes, taking in the feel of your hot, wet heat surrounding him. He leans in to kiss your chin, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you.” He murmurs, starting to move inside of you.

“I love you too.” You gasp out softly, holding onto his shoulders and giving into the urge to close your eyes. It’s perfect and slow. Both of you are older and you’ve got all the time in the world tonight. There’s just the two of you here. You know JJ will show Ellie her room if you don’t make it back downstairs and all of you are safe here. You’re safe and back together.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time moving inside of you. Yes, he’s overwhelmed with his emotions because you are the love of his life and he’s got you back. He’s back in your arms and he doesn’t plan on leaving. He’s safe. Ellie is safe. He can get to know his son. It’s more than he can handle but he inhales deeply and kisses along your jaw, enjoying the way you caress his back.

You move together, sedately and lovingly. You let him kiss you all over, but you prefer when his lips are pressed against yours and his cock is buried deep inside you. You rock together slowly, and your fingers learn the new scars and marks on your lover’s body.

He’s in no rush but it’s been a while since he was inside someone, especially the woman he loves so much. “I love you, darlin’.” He murmurs again, sliding his hand between you so he can rub your clit.

One his side, he can see all of you. He can touch you as you need him to. Not that you can’t cum from his cock alone but you are happy that he cares about your pleasure. “I love you. I love you so much. Always dreamed of having you back like this.”

Joel groans, rubbing your clit a little faster as your words wash over him. “That’s it, baby. Want you to cum for me.” He murmurs against your chin. He rocks into you a little harder, needing to hear and see you fall apart beneath him.

It’s almost too much, the way he rocks into you and he also touches you. “Joel, Joel.” You moan quietly, starting to shake and quiver under him. “I’m going to cum baby.”

He feels your walls fluttering around his cock and he groans, pushing into you until you’re clenching down around his cock. “That’s it. Fuck, such a good girl for me. Shit, feel so good. So tight.” He coos into your ear and works you through it. His hand drops from your clit and he grabs your hip, shifting to lay down. “Want you to ride me when you can.” He demands, letting you slump against him as you enjoy your orgasm.

You hum, throwing your leg over his waist and shifting to straddle him. “You want me to ride you?” You lean down and press your lips to his as you reach between you and line up with his cock to sink down onto it. You moan his name quietly as the new angle presents a much fuller feeling.

“Fuck.” He pants, his dark eyes taking you in as you start to rock on top of him. “I’ve missed you. I missed you every goddamn night in my dreams. Imagined what could’ve been if it weren’t for the fucking outbreak.” He confesses, sliding his hands up to cup your tits. “Imagined what you’d look like pregnant. Bet you were fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Ha.” You snort and kiss his chin. “I was waddling around. He was a big baby.” You don’t mention how scared you had been, how dangerous it had been for everyone around while you were pregnant. You were slower and ungainly, some of the men overly protective and others wanting to leave you behind. Still, you prevailed. You’re here and that’s where you want to be.

“Wish I had been there to see it. To protect you.” He murmurs, looking at you with sad eyes as his hands slide down to caress your waist, sliding around to squeeze your ass. “I wish I had been there for you.”

“You’re here now.” You remind him softly. “That’s all that matters.” You slowly rock on him, peppering his face with kisses as you caress his arms and chest. “We are together again, that’s all that matters.”

He sighs, knowing he can’t keep dwelling on the past. He knows that. He kisses you, helping you rock on top of him by squeezing your ass. “Want you to cum again for me.” He murmurs, “cum with me.” He demands with a slight whine, wanting you to fall apart around him.

“Still so greedy.” You tease quietly, rocking onto him faster, and feeling the way his cock twitches up inside you. You know that he’s had past lovers before, but you don’t worry about that now. Now, you are with him and you want to do exactly as he wants. You want to cum for him. “Play with my tits.” You beg quietly.

He obeys, his hands cupping your tits. He squeezes them. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands, pinching your nipples. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to feel you clamp down on his cock again.

It takes just a minute more, mouth hanging open slightly and you moan, your walls tightening around him. Soaking him with a wave of your juices as you groan out his name. “Joel! Shit- so good.”

He grunts when you clamp down onto him, making him thrust up into you. You fall forward onto his chest and he hisses when he starts to twitch inside of you. Cum spurts out of his cock to cost your walls and he lets out a strangled groan of your name as he fills you up.

You would have worried about him cumming inside you, fearful of another pregnancy, but you had stopped having a menstrual cycle a few years ago. Instead, you moan softly and close your eyes, pressing your lips to his.

Joel caresses your back, reveling in how you feel around him, above him. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he is finally where he belongs. Back in your arms and he’s safe. Ellie is safe. He doesn’t have to fight anymore. He can stay in Jackson and create a life with you, get to know his son. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. He smiles against your lips and you lean back, looking at him. “What?” You chuckle, “nothing. Just - I’m happy.” He confesses and you caress his cheek. “Me too.” You whisper, knowing that nothing will get the time back that you lost out on with Joel but you have him now. Now, you get to be together. The way it was always supposed to be.

[joelsrose]

First Date: Part II

Part 1

there will be a part 3! more slow burn - enjoy x

The room was quiet, but your heart refused to follow suit, pounding wildly against your ribs as Joel’s words played over and over in your head. The faint hum of alcohol lingered in your veins, leaving your senses dulled but your emotions sharp. Heat crept up your neck and across your face, a blush you couldn’t will away. Your chest ached, full and warm, caught somewhere between elation and frustration.

Not like this.

Joel Miller wanted to kiss you. The thought spun in your mind like a cyclone, disorienting and infuriating all at once. Why was he so impossible to understand? Why couldn’t he just come out and say what he meant instead of leaving you to sift through his maddening half-truths and clumsy, drunken confessions? All he ever did was complicate things.

He was infuriating, stubborn, and guarded to a fault—a wall of iron wrapped in a storm cloud. And yet, despite all of it, you felt yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It didn’t make any sense. Why him, of all people? Had the years of chaos and heartbreak warped you so completely that you’d developed some ridiculous weakness for brooding older men with a penchant for gruffness and unspoken truths?

You huffed into the darkness, pressing your palms against your flushed cheeks, but the heat didn’t dissipate. Against your will, your thoughts drifted back to him, to his voice low and gravelly, saying things he couldn’t seem to admit in the sober light of day. Was he awake now, thinking about you? Or had he already pushed it all aside, boxed it up and locked it away in whatever cavern he stored the pieces of himself he refused to share?

The ache in your chest swelled, pushing against the growing exhaustion that tugged at you. You curled onto your side, pulling the blanket closer, hoping to smother the whirlwind of emotions that refused to quiet down.

And just as the edges of sleep began to blur your thoughts, you felt it—a phantom sensation born of longing and bittersweet dreams. The imagined press of Joel’s lips against yours, warm and deliberate, a fleeting moment of tenderness that made your heart stutter even as slumber finally claimed you.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

You rode in silence behind Joel, the steady rhythm of your horse beneath you almost lulling you into a trance. The biting cold nipped at your cheeks, but your thoughts kept drifting to the man ahead of you. His broad frame cut an imposing silhouette against the pale horizon, his posture as tall and rigid as ever. Every movement was deliberate, his eyes constantly scanning the terrain, as if the weight of the entire world rested squarely on his shoulders.

This morning, he had greeted you with a curt nod and a gruff “Morning.” The simple acknowledgment had caught you off guard. After the tension of your last conversation, you half-expected him to retreat into one of his impenetrable silences. But that was Joel Miller—always catching you off guard, always surprising you right when you thought you finally had him figured out.

Patrol today was supposed to be a routine supply check at one of the safe houses, but something felt off. Your admittedly poor sense of direction had its limits, and even you could tell that you’d been heading the wrong way for at least an hour.

You hesitated, your eyes fixed on Joel’s broad back as he rode ahead. Joel wasn’t exactly known for his love of small talk, and the idea of breaking the silence felt like stepping into dangerous territory. But the quiet was stretching too thin, and curiosity, paired with a healthy dose of boredom, finally got the better of you.

“Joel,” you called out, your voice cutting through the crisp air, “where are we going? The safe house is the other way.” Your tone was casual enough, but it carried an undercurrent of irritation you couldn’t quite hide.

He didn’t turn, his voice gruff and matter-of-fact. “Already checked the supplies this morning.”

“What?” you blurted, reining your horse to a halt. Your frustration flared as the biting cold nipped at your cheeks, your irritation rising at the realization. “What the hell are we doing out here, then?”

You couldn’t keep the exasperation out of your voice, the long ride through freezing winds now feeling even more unnecessary. Your breath puffed in front of you as you waited for an answer, your fingers tightening on the reins.

Joel finally stopped his horse, turning in the saddle to face you, his expression unreadable as always. “We’re goin’ somewhere they can’t hear us,” he said simply, his tone as dry as the winter air.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your frustration bubbling over. “The hell does that mean?” you shot back, your breath puffing out in an irritated cloud.

Joel exhaled, rubbing a gloved hand over his face as if summoning patience. “Jesus,” he muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Don’t sound so scared. Not gonna murder you.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, caught completely off guard. Then it hit you—Joel Miller had just told a joke. A joke. In his own deadpanned, gruff way, Joel Miller was trying to lighten the mood, and it left you momentarily speechless.

“What do you mean, ‘somewhere they can’t hear us?’” you pressed, suspicion still clear in your voice.

“Less chance of runnin’ into infected or raiders out here,” Joel replied, his tone measured, his focus already shifting back to the path ahead.

You frowned, still not satisfied. “Okay… so?”

“So we can practice,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Practice what?” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your voice as you rolled your eyes. “Do you ever speak in full sentences, or is this just a special talent of yours?”

Joel’s eyebrows arched slightly at your tone, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He wasn’t used to this—your voice sharp, laced with teasing. Around Maria and Tommy? Sure. But with him? You’d always seemed a little more reserved, a little hesitant.

For a moment, something softened in his expression, his guarded demeanor cracking just enough for the faintest twitch of a smile to tug at the corner of his lips. It was fleeting, though—gone before you could catch it, as if he’d forced it away before it betrayed him.

“Gonna practice your shootin’,” he said, his voice steady, with just the faintest edge of amusement, before turning his focus back to the trail.

You found your gaze lingering on his profile, tracing the hard line of his jaw and the subtle furrow of his brow, hoping it would somehow reveal his truth. Joel Miller was a complete enigma, a puzzle you couldn’t seem to piece together no matter how many hours you spent in his company.

This was the man who rarely spared more than a fleeting glance at anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, the man who seemed to prefer the chaos of infected over the mundane discomfort of small talk. And yet here he was, willingly going out of his way, taking you out to practice shooting. In the middle of nowhere. Far from prying eyes and unnecessary distractions.

The thought crept into your mind before you could stop it, your chest tightening as you turned it over. Was there a chance—however small—that Joel Miller felt something for you too?

It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? You shook your head slightly, willing the thought to dissipate, but it clung to you, stubborn and insistent. No matter how much you tried to brush it aside, the possibility lingered—warm and persistent, like an ember nestled deep in your chest, refusing to fade no matter how much you tried to snuff it out.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

“All right,” Joel said, his voice breaking through the crisp morning air as his eyes swept over the landscape ahead. The clearing was vast and open, framed by a dense thicket of trees whose bare branches swayed softly in the winter breeze. Frost coated the grass, glimmering faintly under the pale, overcast sky, and in the distance, a frozen creek carved its way through the land, its icy surface catching the weak light like fractured glass.

The air was still, carrying the sharp, earthy scent of winter, and the silence was almost unnerving in its completeness. No distant chatter, no shuffle of movement—just the sound of your breath mingling with the faint crunch of frost underfoot.

Joel was right. You were far from Jackson, far from the risks of infected or raiders. Here, in this quiet expanse of frozen solitude, it was just the two of you.

Joel swung his leg over his horse, dismounting with practiced ease. You followed suit, your boots crunching softly against the frost-laden ground as you landed. Without a word, Joel led the horses to a nearby tree with a thick, sturdy trunk, securing them with firm, deliberate knots.

You grabbed your pack and rifle, trailing behind him as he moved through the clearing. His eyes swept the area with a critical precision, his every movement purposeful, as though he’d already planned out exactly how this would go.

He stopped at a fallen log first, gripping it with both hands and dragging it into position with a grunt of effort. Crouching low, he pulled a tin can from his pack and set it carefully on top, his hands steady despite the biting chill in the air.

Next, he turned his attention to a dilapidated fencepost, its wood splintered and weathered, lining up a few bottles along its edge. The frosted glass caught the faint light filtering through the clouds, glinting like tiny beacons against the dull gray backdrop.

But Joel wasn’t finished. A rusted metal barrel leaned against a nearby tree, and he hauled it upright with a quiet determination, giving it a quick once-over before affixing a target to its side. Finally, he moved toward the creek, his boots crunching over frost and ice, lining up a series of rocks along the edge, spaced just enough to challenge your aim at a longer distance.

You watched it all with growing amusement, your eyebrow arching as Joel stepped back to survey his work. His expression remained all business, his lips pressed into a firm line, but the meticulous care he put into arranging each makeshift target was oddly endearing.

“Jesus,” you muttered, eyeing the array of makeshift targets scattered across the clearing. “How many of these are you hoping I actually hit?”

“All of ’em,” Joel replied without missing a beat, his tone steady and confident.

You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. “That’s ridiculous, Joel.”

“No, it ain’t,” he said, dead serious, his gaze unwavering as he adjusted his stance. “When we’re done here, you’ll be able to hit every single one.”

You let out a disbelieving huff, shaking your head. “You’re insane.”

“I meant what I said,” he continued, his voice low but firm, cutting through your doubts. “You’re not a bad shot—but you’re not confident.”

His words made you pause. He remembered saying that, back when he’d been drunk. Did that mean he remembered the other thing he’d said then?

Thinking about you.

Joel kept going, his tone calm but resolute. “Half of shootin’ is havin’ the aim,” he said, gesturing toward the rifle in your hands. “The other half is thinkin’ you can actually hit what you’re aiming for.”

“Okay,” you breathed, steadying yourself as you tightened your grip on the rifle.

Joel Miller believed you could hit every single one of these targets, so you better damn well try.

You glanced at him, his expression as steady as ever, his confidence in you unwavering. “Alright,” you said, your voice firming with determination. “Teach me.”

Joel gave a small nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stepped closer, his presence solid and grounding. “First,” he began, his voice calm but commanding, “your stance. You ain’t gonna hit anything if you’re all off-balance.”

Joel stepped closer, the sound of his boots crunching against the frost pulling your attention to him completely. The space between you felt impossibly small as he came to stand at your side, his dark eyes scanning you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Feet shoulder-width apart,” he said, his voice low and gruff, his tone laced with a quiet authority that sent a shiver down your spine. You adjusted your stance, glancing at him for approval, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment too long before he gave a slight nod.

“Good,” he murmured, stepping behind you. You felt the weight of him there, close enough that the warmth of his presence cut through the biting cold. “Grip the rifle like this.”

His hands reached out, rough and warm as they wrapped over yours, adjusting your grip with careful precision. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a pulse of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore.

“Relax,” he said, his voice softer now, but still carrying that edge of restraint. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, grounding and firm. “You’re too stiff. Loosen up—ain’t gonna hit a thing if you’re all tense.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on his words and not the way his touch lingered, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder before he pulled back.

“Like this?” you asked, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

Joel leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Better. Now, line up your sights.”

The proximity was dizzying, the way his hand ghosted over your arm to guide you sending a jolt of awareness through you. You couldn’t help but feel the heat of him at your back, the roughness of his hand as it hovered, hesitant but deliberate.

“You’re tilting,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still gruff. His hand brushed your arm lightly as he adjusted your aim. “Not your body—just your eyes. Straight down the barrel.”

The tension crackled in the air between you, thick and electric. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was impossible with him this close, his focus entirely on you.

“Now,” Joel said, his voice almost a whisper, rough and unrestrained, “breathe in. Slow.”

You obeyed, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with his words.

“Hold it,” he continued, his tone impossibly close, the timbre of it making your pulse race. “Squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull—squeeze.”

The rifle fired, the shot echoing through the clearing.

The can on the log wobbled but didn’t fall.

You groaned in frustration, your cheeks burning from the effort—and something else entirely.

Joel stepped back slightly, just enough to give you room to breathe, but not enough to break the tension. His lips pressed into a line, his eyes scanning you, calculating. “Do it again,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, glancing at him. “You make it sound so easy,” you muttered.

“Ain’t supposed to be easy,” he said, his voice lower, quieter. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier. “But you’ll get there.”

He stepped behind you again, closer this time, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you into position. “Focus,” he said, his voice rough and close. “You got this.”

This time, when you fired, the can flew off the log with a sharp clang.

A surprised laugh burst from your lips, and you turned to face him, your heart hammering in your chest. Joel’s eyes lingered on yours, the tension thick and charged, before he gave a small, approving nod.

“Told you,” he said, his voice gruff but softer.

The world seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the clearing.

Your chest tightened as you met his gaze, and for once, he didn’t look away.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

The clearing had transformed into a battlefield of spent casings, the sharp tang of gunpowder mingling with the crisp evening air. You’d lost track of how many rounds you’d fired, how many times Joel’s gruff encouragements had pushed you to reload and try again.

The sun hung low now, spilling a watercolor of oranges and pinks across the sky, while shadows stretched like creeping fingers over the ground. The fading light tugged at the edges of your nerves, a reminder of how dangerous it was to linger, but Joel stood firm.

“You’re not leavin’ until you hit every single one,” he said, his voice steady and resolute, as if the world beyond this clearing didn’t exist.

Your gaze shifted to the last target—a battered can balanced precariously on the edge of a log, defiant in its refusal to fall. It mocked you in its stillness, the sole survivor of the carnage you’d unleashed.

Joel adjusted his stance beside you, his presence a steady anchor. “Alright, let’s go again,” he said, his tone as unwavering as ever, leaving no room for argument.

“Joel,” you groaned, the ache in your arms deepening as the rifle seemed to grow heavier with every passing second. “We’re gonna run out of bullets, I’m starving, and then—when we’re weak from hunger—werewolves are gonna eat us.”

Joel’s head snapped toward you, his brow knitting together in utter confusion. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”

You bit back a laugh, your shoulders shaking just slightly. “Sorry. I’m delirious. I told you—I’m hungry.”

He exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t catch, though the faintest flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips. “Focus,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softer this time, like he was coaxing a skittish animal. “This is the last one—you can do it.”

You glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow in mock defiance. “And if I don’t?”

Joel’s eyes glinted, his expression unreadable as he shrugged, his tone deadpan. “Then I’ll leave you out here. Alone.”

Your jaw dropped, the words hanging in the air for a beat longer than they should have. “What?” you practically yelped, caught between indignation and disbelief.

He shrugged again, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into what could only be described as a smirk. It was maddeningly subtle but unmistakable, and for a moment, you just stared at him, thrown off by his uncharacteristic playfulness.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him, though the spark of humor in his gaze told you exactly how much truth there wasn’t in his empty threat.

“Alright,” you sighed dramatically, squaring up to the rifle.

Joel stepped behind you, his presence impossibly distracting, his warmth cutting through the cold like a flame. His hands settled on your waist, firm and steady, grounding you in a way that sent your heart into overdrive. The touch wasn’t intrusive, but it was deliberate, and it set every nerve in your body alight. He nudged your feet apart with his knee, his voice low and gravelly as he murmured, “Remember—feet apart.”

How in the world did he expect you to hit the target when he was this close? Your mind raced, your thoughts tangling into a mess of sensations—the press of his chest just shy of your back, the quiet strength in his hands, the way his breath ghosted over your ear. You bit your lip, terrified that if you said anything, your voice might betray just how much he was affecting you.

“Alright,” Joel said softly, his voice so close it made your stomach flip. “Now shoot.”

You forced yourself to exhale, a slow and steady release, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked against your shoulder, the shot ringing out across the clearing, and the can flew off the log with a sharp clang that echoed through the trees.

“I got it!” you yelped, spinning toward him, the thrill of victory bursting out of you. Without thinking, you hopped in place, your excitement bubbling over.

Joel clapped his hands together once, his grin breaking free like sunlight through storm clouds. It was rare, genuine, and so utterly Joel that it stole your breath. “Good girl,” he said, his voice warm, his tone low, the words landing squarely in your chest and sending heat rushing to your cheeks.

Your laughter spilled out, light and unrestrained, though the flush in your face betrayed how much those two simple words had affected you. “I can’t believe it,” you said, catching your breath. “I mean, you helped—like, a lot.”

“No,” Joel said firmly, his eyes locking with yours, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. “You did that.”

Something in the way he said it—earnest and steady—made your chest tighten, the words settling in a place deeper than just pride. For a moment, the world stilled, and it was just him, his eyes on yours, his presence steady and reassuring in a way that made it impossible to look away.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Thanks,” you murmured, the word feeling heavier than it should.

“Alright, let’s go,” Joel said, turning toward the horses. But just before he mounted his, he glanced back at you, his voice low and teasing. “Before the werewolves come get us.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face as you laughed softly, shaking your head.

You smiled the entire ride back.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

You loved movie nights at Jackson. They were your favorite day of the month—the one night where the weight of survival seemed to lift, where laughter and shared moments made the world feel just a little bit normal again. Joel knew this.

Over the past few weeks, Joel had learned more about you than he ever expected. You’d started opening up after that shooting lesson, your words spilling out during patrols while he listened, even if he didn’t always respond. He didn’t need to say much—he was paying attention, far more than you realized.

He tucked away the little details, storing them like they might matter someday: how much you loved coffee, the way you always gave your horse, Winnie, a soft pat before every ride, how your favorite food used to be sushi, even though you hadn’t had it in years. He noticed the things you missed, the faint wistfulness in your voice when you mentioned them. And he couldn’t help but notice the way your face lit up whenever you talked about movie nights—your favorite day of the month, you’d said, like it was the closest thing to normal life you had left.

That’s why Joel was sitting here, crammed into the overly warm and crowded community room, the hum of excited chatter filling the air. A few teenagers a couple of seats down were causing a ruckus, and Joel had already shot them a sharp glare, but he stayed. His jacket was draped over the seat next to him, keeping it empty despite the steady stream of people filtering in.

At one point, a woman—nudged forward by her giggling friends from another row—sauntered over, her intentions clear in the way she lingered near Joel’s side. She gestured toward the empty seat beside him, her tone light and suggestive as she asked if it was free.

Joel, oblivious to her flirtation and entirely disinterested, didn’t even bother to lift his head. “Seat’s taken,” he replied curtly, his voice flat and dismissive, his eyes never leaving the drink in his hand.

The woman hesitated, clearly caught off guard by his lack of acknowledgment, before retreating back to her friends, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

Joel didn’t seem to notice—or care.

Moments later, you walked in, your smile wide and contagious as your eyes swept across the crowded room. Movie night had always been your thing—something you loved, even if you usually came alone. You didn’t mind; the atmosphere, the chatter, and the shared excitement were enough.

But when your gaze landed on Joel, sitting stiffly amidst the chaos, your smile grew even wider. It was funny seeing him here, so out of his element, and yet undeniably him.

“Joel?” you said softly, your voice carrying just enough over the hum of the room as you wove through the crowd toward him. “What are you doing here?”

He feigned surprise, his tone casual, though the slight shift in his seat betrayed him. “Oh, you know… watchin’ the movie.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light and unguarded, tugging at something deep in his chest. Your eyes scanned the crowded room, narrowing as you searched for an empty seat. The hum of voices began to quiet as the lights dimmed, the projector humming to life.

“Well,” you whispered, “I should probably find a seat.” You started to turn, ready to slip away into the sea of people.

“Wait,” Joel said abruptly, his voice low but firm, cutting through the settling quiet.

A sharp shhh from someone nearby made his jaw clench, but he ignored it, reaching over to pull his jacket off the seat beside him.

“There’s a seat here,” he muttered, his tone gruff but leaving no room for debate.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, your gaze dropping to the now-empty seat. “Oh, I thought you were saving it…” you said, gesturing toward the jacket he’d just moved.

“No,” Joel replied quickly, a little too quickly, as he draped the jacket over his lap. “It’s yours. Sit.”

Your heart swelled, a soft warmth blooming in your chest as you slid into the seat beside him. Joel Miller saved you a seat. Here, of all places—a packed room buzzing with energy, in a place he’d never willingly set foot in before. It was almost unthinkable, and yet, there he was, his rugged frame taking up more space than the narrow chair could manage, his attention fixed stubbornly on the screen ahead.

The closeness felt different, a quiet charge humming between you that had nothing to do with the low whir of the projector kicking to life. You glanced sideways at Joel, catching the way his jaw was set tight, the muscles working under his skin as his hands gripped his jacket like it might steady him.

“Thanks,” you whispered, leaning in just enough that your words were meant for him alone.

He didn’t look at you, but the slight tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. His grip on the bottle in his hand loosened, and for a fleeting second, you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

The movie flickered to life, its warm glow casting shifting shadows across the crowded room. You watched intently, the pictures dancing over your face, your quiet smile tugging at your lips as you lost yourself in the moment. Joel’s eyes, however, weren’t on the screen. In the subtlest way, he turned toward you, his gaze lingering a second too long, his breath hitching as he took you in.

You looked so happy, so at ease, and it struck him harder than he wanted to admit. It was a rare thing, seeing you like this, unguarded and content. And for reasons he didn’t dare explore, it hit him like a punch to the gut.

Joel’s leg started to bounce, an outlet for the restless energy he couldn’t seem to shake. His mind was far from the movie, far from the room entirely. Every nerve in his body was attuned to you—the warmth of you sitting so close, the faint scent of your shampoo, the soft sound of your breathing as you leaned slightly forward.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he allowed himself to relax, just a fraction. His knee brushed lightly against yours, his shoulder just barely grazing yours in the cramped space. He told himself it was the tight quarters, the lack of room—but deep down, he knew better.

You noticed immediately. The slight shift in his posture, the nervous bounce of his knee, the charged silence between you—it was impossible to miss. You bit the inside of your lip at the contact, a thrill coursing through you, though you barely moved. The tension was thick, a current humming between you, leaving the air heavy with unsaid things.

Joel might think he had you all figured out, but you knew him, too. He wasn’t watching the movie. His restless movements, the way his grip tightened on the bottle in his hand, the faint rigidity in his shoulders—it wasn’t frustration. It was nerves, raw and unspoken, and maybe more telling than anything he could’ve said.

In a moment of quiet boldness, you leaned into his shoulder, your movement so slight it could’ve been dismissed as accidental. But it wasn’t. Your weight pressed gently against him, testing the fragile boundary that seemed to hover between you. Feigning a yawn, you let your head tilt, coming to rest on his shoulder, your cheek brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Joel froze. You felt it immediately—the sudden tension in his body, the way his breath caught for just a moment. But he didn’t pull away. He didn’t shift or shrug you off. He stayed perfectly still, as though any movement might shatter whatever fragile thread had been strung between you.

His arms remained crossed, rigid beneath you, his posture brimming with restraint. And yet, he didn’t move.

He let you stay, let the weight of your head settle against him, as if it was something he couldn’t bring himself to deny. The warmth of your touch against his shoulder was subtle, but it felt monumental—like a quiet revelation neither of you were quite ready to speak aloud.

Your lips curled into the faintest smile as you closed your eyes, pretending to focus on the movie, though you were acutely aware of him. Of his tension, of his breathing, of the steady warmth radiating from him.

Joel shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours again. This time, it wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate—quietly, wordlessly saying, I’m still here.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you dared move.

The movie played on, its flickering images casting faint shadows, forgotten by you both.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

It was almost Christmas, and Jackson was doing its best to exude holiday cheer, even in a world irrevocably changed by the outbreak. It wasn’t extravagant or polished—how could it be?—but there was a warmth that spread through the town like an unspoken agreement to make the season a little brighter.

String lights, salvaged from who-knows-where, were hung along fences and rooftops, their soft glow casting a cozy light over the snow-covered streets. Some blinked unevenly, others stayed dark, but the effort was there, and it was enough to make the evenings feel a little more magical. Handmade decorations adorned the town—garlands of evergreen branches tied with bits of red cloth, paper snowflakes crafted from old books and newspapers, and ornaments fashioned from bottle caps and scraps of metal.

Music played faintly from the Tipsy Bison, where someone had rigged up an old record player. A collection of scratched vinyls—holiday classics from a bygone era—filled the air with songs that crackled and skipped, but still brought smiles to people’s faces.

You loved Christmas—everything about it. The way it seemed to pull people closer, the way the world seemed to glow a little brighter under the soft, warm lights. You thought back to the days before the outbreak, when you’d pile into the car with your family and drive through neighborhoods, marveling at the twinkling displays in windows and yards.

And the trees—the trees. You remembered how, every year, your family would spend hours decorating your own. There’d be laughter, arguments over which ornaments went where, and the familiar scent of pine filling the room. You’d string the lights carefully, drape the garlands just so, and stand back to admire your work, always ending the night with hot chocolate by its soft glow.

That was what you missed most: a Christmas tree. Your own tree. Something to decorate, to make your house feel like a home again, even just for a moment. You’d tried to make do—stringing up lights you’d scavenged, hanging the odd decoration here or there—but it wasn’t the same. You wanted the ritual, the tradition, the warmth it brought.

You sighed, staring at the bare corner of your living room, imagining how it would look with a tree standing there, soft lights casting their glow on the walls. It wasn’t much to ask for, was it? Just a piece of the life you used to have.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

As you and Joel rode back to Jackson after another long patrol, the crisp winter air bit at your cheeks, the fading daylight painting the snow in hues of soft lavender and blue. The silence stretched between you, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of hooves against the frozen ground. Without thinking, you began humming softly, the tune slipping from your lips to fill the quiet.

“Bright time, it’s the right time, to rock the night away,” you sang under your breath, the words light and airy, carried on the cold breeze. The melody danced between the steady sounds of the horses, a small comfort against the stark winter stillness.

Joel turned toward you, one eyebrow quirking up in that familiar, skeptical way that always seemed to say more than words ever could.

“What?” you asked, grinning at the look on his face. “Don’t tell me you hate Christmas.”

“Didn’t say that,” he replied, his voice gruff as always, his gaze sliding back to the trail ahead like the topic was already dismissed.

“Okay, Grinch,” you shot back, snorting at your own joke.

Joel shook his head, but you caught it—the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to suppress the smallest of smiles. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make your chest feel lighter, the warmth of it lingering far longer than it should.

You let the moment settle, your eyes drifting to the endless sea of trees ahead, their branches bowed under the weight of freshly fallen snow. The sight was stunning, the kind of quiet beauty that belonged on a postcard, but it gnawed at something deep inside you—a pang of longing for a life that felt worlds away.

The words escaped before you could reel them back. “I’d give anything to have a Christmas tree again. Just...decorate the hell out of it. Lights, ornaments, everything.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, but he turned his head just enough to let you know he was listening, his profile softened by the dusky light..

“It used to be my favorite thing,” you said, your voice quieter now, the edges of nostalgia softening your words. “Every year, my family and I would put up the tree together. It was chaos—arguing over where the ornaments went, trying to untangle the lights without strangling each other—but it was the best kind of chaos.” You paused, the weight of the memory settling over you, bittersweet and heavy.

Joel didn’t say anything, his silence stretching longer than you expected. You glanced over at him, suddenly self-conscious. Vulnerable. The thought crossed your mind that he might shrug off your rambling with one of his usual gruff remarks, but when your eyes met his, he wasn’t dismissive. He was watching you, his expression unreadable yet completely focused, like your words mattered more than you realized.

You cleared your throat, a nervous laugh bubbling up to fill the space. “What about you? Did you ever have any Christmas traditions?”

Joel exhaled deeply, the sound heavy and weighted, as if it carried a lifetime’s worth of memories with it. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer, and a flicker of guilt sparked in your chest. Who were you to poke at a past he worked so hard to bury?

“Sorry,” you started, your voice faltering as you prepared to retreat. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly. His tone was quieter now, less guarded. “It’s fine.”

The pause that followed felt like the calm before a storm, a moment suspended in fragile quiet. Finally, he spoke, his voice carrying a softness you weren’t used to hearing from him. “Me and my daughter, Sarah…”

Your breath caught, the way he said her name hitting you like a punch to the chest. There was something in his voice—a warmth and sorrow so deeply intertwined that it wrapped around your heart, pulling it tight.

“She used to love those gingerbread house kits,” Joel said, his voice quieter now, as if speaking the memory too loudly might shatter it. A faint, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, softening his features in a way you’d never seen before. “Always wanted to make the fanciest one—had these big ideas about balconies and turrets, like somethin’ outta a magazine. And every damn time…” He chuckled, low and warm, the sound tinged with affection. “It’d fall apart. Used to drive her nuts. But she’d just laugh it off, tell me it was all part of the plan, and start over.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth lifting without thought as the image came alive in your mind. A younger Joel, one free of the weight of the world, laughing with his daughter over collapsed gingerbread turrets. The thought was bittersweet, a glimpse of a man you’d never known but could almost picture—a father who loved without hesitation, whose laughter was full and unguarded, before loss had carved its mark into him.

“That’s a nice memory,” you said softly, careful not to speak too loud, afraid to disturb the fragile thread of openness stretching between you.

Joel didn’t reply right away. Instead, he adjusted the reins, his grip easing as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—a quiet acknowledgment that, for once, he wasn’t carrying that memory alone.

For the rest of the ride, the silence between you felt different. It wasn’t heavy or awkward, but something warmer, like the quiet understanding of two people who knew what it was to hold on to pieces of a world that was gone.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

You woke to the faint gray light of dawn seeping through the window, your body protesting the cold with an ache that had become all too familiar. Winter had a way of settling into your bones, amplified by too many restless nights. A long yawn escaped as you stretched, the motion tugging at sore muscles. You wiped the remnants of sleep from your eyes, shivering as your bare feet met the icy floor.

The house was frigid, the kind of cold that clung to everything, stubborn and unyielding. You pulled your coat on over your sleepwear, wrapping it tightly around yourself as you shuffled into the kitchen. The soft hum of the coffee maker broke the silence, the promise of warmth in your mug the only thing motivating you to stay upright.

Then you heard it—a muffled groan, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy being dragged just outside the door. Your movements stilled, the faint noise enough to send a flicker of unease skittering up your spine. Frowning, you tilted your head, straining to catch the sound again.

Another grunt. Low, frustrated, and definitely close. Your heart leapt, the stillness of the morning amplifying your sudden wariness. What the hell? Your eyes darted to the door, your mind torn between throwing it open or reaching for the rifle leaning against the wall.

Curiosity got the better of you. Hands slightly trembling from the cold—or maybe something else—you stepped forward and gripped the handle, twisting it slowly. The door creaked open, and a gust of icy air hit your face, stinging your cheeks as you peeked outside.

“Joel?”

There he was, hunched over, dragging a pine tree through the snow, its branches catching on every uneven patch of ground. His face was flushed from the cold, his breath visible in the crisp morning air as he gave the tree one final heave. Straightening up, he caught sight of you standing in the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

For a moment, he froze, caught in the act. His expression was as guarded as always, but there was something else—a flicker of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure what to say or how you’d respond.

“You, uh…” He shifted awkwardly, glancing at the tree, then back at you. “You said you wanted a tree,” he muttered, his tone gruff, his shrug feigning indifference, as though dragging a whole pine tree through the snow was just another errand.

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading despite the icy air around you. “Did you cut this yourself?” you asked softly, stepping closer, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Joel nodded once, his gaze dropping for a moment, as though the simple act embarrassed him more than it should have.

“And dragged it all the way here?”

Joel nodded again, his hand drifting to the back of his neck, his fingers rubbing at the nape like he could somehow ease the tension there. “Wasn’t far,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, but the faint flush creeping up his cheeks gave him away.

He was lying—it had been far, and he was too old for this shit. Every step back had weighed heavy in his bones, his hands still numb from the cold, his back stiff from hauling the thing all the way here. But none of that mattered. Not when it meant seeing you like this, your eyes alight with joy, your smile so bright it knocked the air from his lungs. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, a hundred times over, if it meant he could hold onto this fleeting, impossible moment just a little longer.

You stared at him, the enormity of his gesture settling over you, wrapping around you like the warmth of a fire on the coldest night. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. The lump in your throat was too thick, your emotions too raw.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a fierce hug. Joel stiffened at first, his hands hovering at your sides as though unsure of where to place them. But then, slowly, his arms came around you, his hold tentative but steady, one hand splaying across the middle of your back.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his shoulder, your voice muffled but trembling with sincerity.

Joel didn’t say anything, but the way his grip tightened, just enough to let you know he was there, said more than words ever could. The faint scent of pine and the warmth of him filled your senses, and for that brief moment, the rest of the world seemed to melt away.

As you pulled away and took a proper look at the tree, a delighted shriek escaped you, your hands flying to your cheeks.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, his hand coming up to cover his ears in mock exasperation. “Warn a guy next time, would ya?”

“Joel, this is the best day ever,” you said, spinning to face him, your grin so wide it almost hurt. “You are officially the opposite of the Grinch.”

He shook his head, a soft huff of amusement escaping him.

“Come on, let me help you,” you said, grabbing at the trunk of the tree, already tugging it toward the door.

“Don’t need to do that,” he said, his tone gruff but without bite.

“I want to,” you shot back, undeterred, already struggling to maneuver the hefty thing into your living room.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

With Joel’s steady hands guiding it, the tree finally found its place in the corner of your living room.

It fit perfectly, its branches reaching just shy of the ceiling. The rich scent of pine filled the air, and for a moment, you could almost forget the world outside as you stood back and admired it.

“Joel, seriously,” you said, turning to him, your voice softer now. “This is really kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, brushing off your gratitude like it was nothing, though he avoided your eyes.

But this wasn’t nothing—not to you. There was something about the moment, about Joel standing there in your home with snow still clinging to his boots, that made you feel bold. Something about the quiet intimacy of it all, the way it felt almost domestic in its simplicity. Joel Miller had gone out of his way—for you. The thought made your chest tighten, a warmth spreading through you that melted away the chill of the morning. It made your heart ache in the best way, leaving you feeling special in a way you hadn’t in a long, long time.

“How about…” you began, your heart thudding as his eyes flicked back to yours, sharp and attentive. “Did you maybe wanna come over tonight? I mean… to help me decorate the tree. And I, uh…” You faltered, suddenly shy under the weight of his gaze. “I have alcohol,” you finished, wincing at how lame it sounded out loud.

Joel’s eyebrow arched, his lips quirking ever so slightly. “Alcohol? That’s your bribe? Like I’m some kinda drunk?”

“What? No!” you sputtered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“I’m jokin’,” he interrupted, his voice tinged with dry amusement, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and nerves tangling in your chest as his teasing sunk in.

Joel hesitated, his expression shifting subtly as his eyes lingered on yours. There was something unspoken in his gaze—an uncertainty, but also a quiet warmth that made your breath catch. It felt like he was weighing something, some internal debate playing out just behind his carefully guarded exterior.

“Alright,” he said at last, his voice softer now. “Yeah, okay.” He gave a small nod, almost as if convincing himself this was fine, this was normal.

“Okay,” you echoed, trying and failing to contain the giddy smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” Joel repeated, his voice steady but quieter, as though the word carried more weight than it should. He nodded once more, turning toward the door. He hesitated briefly, his hand hovering over the handle, as though he wanted to say something else. But instead, he cast you one final glance, his expression unreadable, and stepped outside, leaving behind the faint warmth of his presence—and the buzz of anticipation that seemed to cling to the room like static.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

Joel stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at the reflection he usually avoided like the plague. The mirror never lied, and what stared back at him was a man weathered by regrets and loss, his inner turmoil etched into the lines on his face, the streaks of grey in his hair and beard. His hands gripped the edges of the sink, his knuckles white, as he shook his head slowly. He didn’t recognize the man looking back at him—at least, not tonight.

He felt stupid.

Like a goddamn teenager getting ready for a date, his heart pounding for no good reason. When you had asked him to come over, the words had caught him off guard, knocking the breath right out of him. His initial instinct had been to say no, to mutter some excuse about being busy. But the look in your eyes, the way you’d smiled at him—hopeful, hesitant—had thrown him off balance. Against all his better judgment, he’d nodded.

And now here he was. His hair, damp and slicked back from the shower, was a little more effort than he’d ever normally bother with.

He’d even trimmed his beard and mustache.

He wore a button-down shirt, one of the few he owned that didn’t look like it had been through a war, and a pair of jeans that weren’t too worn at the knees. His coat was thrown over the back of a chair, waiting for him to stop pacing and just go.

What the hell was he doing? He had lugged a fucking tree to your house. Joel Miller didn’t do things like that. Not for anyone. He didn’t put himself out there, didn’t let himself get drawn into things that could end up hurting more than they were worth. Yet, here he was, straightening his shirt in a mirror he hated, wondering if you’d notice the effort he was putting in, even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

The walk to your house felt longer than it should have, each step heavy with the weight of his thoughts. Joel wasn’t just out of his depth—he was drowning in unfamiliar waters. He could turn back. He could go home, pretend he’d forgotten, avoid whatever this was threatening to turn into. He stopped mid-step, staring down at the snow-dusted ground, the temptation to turn around gnawing at him.

But he didn’t.

Before he knew it, his boots were on your porch, the warm glow of light spilling out from the edges of your window. His hand hovered over the wood of your door, suspended in hesitation. His chest tightened, his breath shallow as a thousand thoughts battled in his head.

What if this was a mistake? What if he couldn’t give you what you deserved? What if…

The sound of your humming floated through the door, soft and genuine, and it stopped his spiraling thoughts dead in their tracks. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself.

Then, with a rough exhale, he knocked.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

“Hi,” you said softly as you opened the door, your breath catching for a moment as your eyes took him in.

Joel looked… handsome.

Not that he wasn’t always handsome, but tonight he looked different—more put together than usual, as though he’d taken the time for this.

His hair was slicked back, still damp from the shower, and the button-down shirt he wore fit him just right, the dark fabric emphasizing the broad set of his shoulders. He’d put in effort for this. For you. And that thought sent a soft ache through your chest, your heart beating just a little faster as you struggled to find the right words.

“Hi,” Joel replied, his voice low and gruff, but there was something softer beneath it, something you couldn’t quite place.

“Come in,” you said, stepping aside, your heart thudding in your chest as he crossed the threshold.

Joel stepped forward, standing awkwardly by the door as his hands hovered at his sides, unsure of what to do with them.

“I’ll take your coat,” you offered, your fingers brushing his sleeve lightly as you reached out.

“Oh,” he said quickly, “I can do it.”

The two of you fumbled with the coat, a clumsy, almost comedic dance of politeness. When you finally managed to get it on the rack, you turned back to him, your cheeks flushed, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips.

Joel thought it was sweet, the way your nervousness showed in the little things—how you smoothed the hem of your pink jumper or tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well,” you began, breaking the silence as you turned toward him, your voice light with an effort to ease the tension. “I managed to steal a bunch of leftover ornaments and lights.” You disappeared into a nearby room, your footsteps soft, and returned moments later with a box in your hands. Setting it on the living room floor with a playful grin, you added, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Cross my heart,” Joel replied, his voice low but warm, mimicking the motion with a faint, crooked smile. The gesture, so uncharacteristically lighthearted, made your grin widen as you knelt by the box, feeling the weight of the moment ease into something softer, something warmer.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the box with a quick motion. “I’ll get you something to drink. Sorry, I’m a terrible host—I don’t have people over much.”

For some reason, that confession made Joel’s chest tighten—not with discomfort, but with a quiet sense of satisfaction. The thought that not everyone had the privilege of this—the quiet intimacy of being in your space—filled him with something he couldn’t quite name. That he was one of the few people you’d allowed into this small, private corner of your world… it mattered more than it should.

“It’s fine,” Joel said, his voice coming quicker than he intended, smoothing over the moment. He softened his tone, just enough to catch your attention and pull your gaze back to him.

You glanced at him, a shy smile brushing across your lips before you turned and retreated into the kitchen. The faint sound of glasses clinking as you moved about filled the silence, but Joel barely noticed, too busy taking in the room around him.

He eased onto your couch, leaning back tentatively as though he didn’t quite belong there. His eyes swept over the space—cozy, warm, undeniably yours. Books were stacked haphazardly on a nearby table, their spines a mix of worn and new. A blanket hung over the armrest, its edges slightly frayed, like it had been used countless times for comfort. The faint scent of something sweet lingered in the air, soft and welcoming, and it made him smile without realizing it. This wasn’t just a house—it was a home, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since he’d felt something like this.

When you returned, holding a glass in your hands, Joel’s gaze lifted to meet yours. He didn’t look away immediately, his eyes lingering just a moment too long, enough to send a spark of warmth through your chest.

“Thanks,” he murmured, reaching for the drink. His fingers brushed yours briefly, the warmth of his touch startling against your cool skin. The small, fleeting contact sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily breathless as he settled back into his seat.

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again. “Alright,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “Let’s make this tree look like Christmas exploded on it.”

Joel huffed a quiet laugh, his eyes softening. “Lead the way.”

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

You and Joel worked side by side, the soft glow of the living room lamp wrapping the space in a warm, golden light. The open box of ornaments lay at your feet, spilling out a chaotic mix of shiny baubles, mismatched trinkets, and tangled strings of lights that looked like they’d seen better days.

“This one,” Joel said, holding up an ornament so hideous it made you visibly wince—a lopsided gingerbread man with one eye missing, its glitter barely clinging to the uneven surface.

You raised an eyebrow, a laugh slipping past your lips before you could stop it. “I thought the plan was to make this tree look nice.”

“Hey,” Joel shot back, mock defensive, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “It’ll add character.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress your grin. You could get used to this, you thought—the easy banter, the warmth of his presence, the quiet moments where the world didn’t feel so heavy.

“Sure it will,” you teased, reaching into the box for something a little less tragic. You pulled out a glittery star, holding it up with a flourish. “Here, let’s balance out your ‘character’ with something actually pretty.”

Joel chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a soft hum of contentment through you. He reached up to place the gingerbread man on one of the higher branches, his fingers brushing against the pine needles with a carefulness that caught you off guard.

Your gaze lingered for a moment, drawn to the way his hands moved—strong and calloused, bearing the evidence of a life lived hard, yet surprisingly gentle in this moment. You shook yourself out of it, your cheeks warming as you focused back on the tree. But the thought lingered. This could be something.

As you leaned forward to hang the star, your shoulder bumped into his, and the contact sent a jolt through both of you.

“Sorry,” you murmured quickly, your cheeks flushing as you stepped back.

“S’all right,” Joel said, his voice quieter now. His gaze flicked toward you, and for a split second, the room seemed smaller, the space between you charged with something neither of you dared name.

You both turned your attention back to the tree, the moment lingering in the air like a held breath.

“Here,” Joel said after a beat, pulling a strand of lights from the box. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a warmth that lingered far longer than it should have.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your heart thudding as you began winding the lights around the tree.

Joel stepped closer, his hands reaching out to help guide the string. His proximity made your pulse quicken, and you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task instead of the way his arm brushed against yours.

“Looks good,” Joel said after a moment, his voice low and steady. His eyes lingered on the tree, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that his attention had shifted, subtly but unmistakably, to you.

You turned toward him, holding up a candy cane with a playful smile. “Last one,” you said, the warmth in your tone betraying the ease you felt in his presence. “Where should it go?”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing the tree as he pointed to a branch near the top. “There.”

You tilted your head, eyeing the spot with a small laugh. “I can’t reach that high.”

Joel stepped closer, his warmth radiating against your back as his hand rested lightly on your lower back, guiding you forward. “Here,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “I’ll lift ya.”

Before you could respond, his hands found your waist, strong and sure, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. The sudden contact made your breath catch, your pulse quickening as your hands instinctively reached for balance. For a brief moment, you froze, the nearness of him stealing your focus.

“You good?” Joel asked, his voice steady, but quieter, almost careful.

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You hooked the candy cane onto the branch, the small act grounding you as you steadied yourself. “Okay, got it.”

Joel lowered you gently, his hands lingering at your waist for just a second too long before he pulled away, the absence of his touch leaving your skin tingling.

You turned to face him, your cheeks warm, your heart pounding in a way that felt almost too loud in the quiet room. “Thanks,” you said softly, your voice carrying a weight of something unspoken as your eyes met his.

Joel nodded, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Tree looks good,” he said gruffly, though there was a softness in his tone that made your chest ache.

You smiled, the warmth between you undeniable as the glow of the tree bathed the room in soft light. “It does,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

You watched as Joel knelt by your fireplace, his broad shoulders hunched as he fiddled with the knobs and levers, his movements deliberate and confident, like he’d done this a hundred times before. You’d asked him to take a look, to figure out why it wouldn’t turn on, and now here he was, focused in that quiet, determined way of his.

The warmth of the room still hadn’t chased away the chill clinging to the corners, and you pulled your sweater tighter around you as you waited. After a few moments, the fire roared to life, the sound sharp and satisfying, the flames crackling as they cast a soft, golden glow over the room.

The light danced across the walls, illuminating the tree in the corner, its twinkling lights and ornaments transforming your living room into something cozy, almost magical. A wave of contentment settled over you, warm and steady, wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

Joel stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans, and turned to you, his brow drawn in that familiar way of his. “How the hell,” he began, his voice tinged with disbelief, “have you been gettin’ through winter without a damn fireplace?” His hands found his hips, his posture a mix of frustration and incredulity.

You shrugged, leaning casually against the arm of the couch, masking the truth of how many nights you’d spent shivering under blankets too thin for the bitter cold. “I’m tougher than I look, Miller,” you quipped, a teasing grin tugging at your lips, trying to keep the moment light.

Joel shook his head, his brow furrowing deeply, his expression a mix of exasperation and something heavier—something closer to concern. “Gonna get yourself pneumonia,” he muttered, his voice gruff but laced with that quiet insistence that always made your defenses wobble.

“Pfft,” you scoffed, waving him off like it was nothing. “I’ve made it this far.”

But Joel wasn’t letting it slide. He turned to you, fixing you with a look so serious it made your smile falter. “You gotta take care of yourself,” he said, his tone firm, weighted. The way his voice dipped—low, resolute—settled something deep in your chest. “I’m bein’ serious.”

Your grin faded as his words lingered, the weight of them sinking in. He wasn’t joking, wasn’t teasing. Joel’s dark eyes stayed locked on yours, steady and unrelenting, and there was something there that stole the breath from your lungs. The way he was looking at you—like your well-being mattered more than anything else—sent a wave of warmth washing over you, one that had nothing to do with the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

You forced a small, playful smile, though your voice was softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. “Almost sounds like you care about me,” you teased lightly, trying to break the tension, though your heart pounded as the words left your lips.

Joel’s jaw tightened for a moment, his gaze flickering as if debating whether to speak. But then he did, his voice low and steady, slipping out almost like he couldn’t help himself. “’Course I care,” he said, his tone laced with a rawness that caught you off guard. He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing over the back of the chair as though grounding himself. “You think I wouldn’t?”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you, leaving you stunned, your heart stuttering as the space between you seemed to shrink. The way he said it—like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it was something you should’ve known all along—sent a twist of yearning through you so sharp it was almost painful. Joel’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the moment hanging heavy between you, filled with all the things neither of you had said yet.

You froze, the teasing grin slipping from your face as his words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. Joel didn’t say things like that. Not Joel. Not ever.

And yet here he was, standing in your living room, saying the kind of thing that cracked open every wall you thought he’d built around himself. It wasn’t the first time, either—the third, maybe fourth time he’d let something slip that showed you, without question, that he cared. But now, as if realizing what he’d done, he looked like he was already regretting it.

He sighed, the sound deep and weary, dragging a hand through his hair as his gaze darted away from yours, fixing on the floor like it might swallow him whole. “I should probably get goin’,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, tinged with that same uncertainty you’d seen in him before. “I’ll, uh… come back tomorrow. Fix that cabinet hinge in the kitchen.” He gestured vaguely toward the next room, his words rushed and uneven, like he needed to fill the silence with something, anything, to get himself out the door.

You blinked, caught off guard—not by the mention of the cabinet hinge, which you hadn’t even realized was broken, but by the way Joel suddenly seemed so unsure of himself. The way he shifted on his feet, hesitating as though he didn’t know if he should stay or go. The Joel you knew didn’t hesitate. He didn’t backpedal or falter. And yet here he was, breaking his own rules, leaving you too stunned to speak.

You opened your mouth, trying to say something to pull him back, but the words wouldn’t come. The air between you felt heavy, electric, charged with everything unspoken, until Joel finally moved toward the door. His boots thudded against the floorboards, each step carrying him closer to leaving, but when he reached the door, he stopped.

For a moment, he stood there, his hand resting on the handle, the muscles in his shoulders tight like he was bracing himself.

You thought—hoped—he might turn around, might say something to break the tension strung so tightly between you. But instead, he gave a small shake of his head, so faint you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching him so closely.

“Goodnight,” he said gruffly, his voice rough at the edges, and before you could respond, he pulled the door open and stepped out into the cold night air.

You stayed where you were, rooted in place as the door clicked shut behind him, the warmth of the fire doing nothing to ease the ache that had settled in your chest. His words replayed in your mind, over and over again. ’Course I care.

The weight of them pressed against you, soft but insistent, leaving you wondering if he knew how much those words had meant—or if he’d ever let himself admit it.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

Joel kept his promise. The next evening, just past seven, he appeared at your door, his work tools slung across his arm. Outside, the wind howled through the streets of Jackson, carrying snow that fell thick and fast, blanketing the world in an unforgiving stillness. Most of the town had hunkered down for the night, fires crackling in hearths and windows locked tight against the bitter cold.

When you opened the door, Joel stood there, looking more worn than usual. His coat hung heavy on his shoulders, dusted with snow, and his breath curled in the freezing air. “Evenin’,” he muttered, his voice low, each word edged with exhaustion. As he stepped inside, you noticed the soft groan he let slip, the deliberate slowness of his movements. He’d had patrol—he must’ve. No one else would’ve braved this storm, not at this hour, unless they had no choice. Or unless they’d made a promise.

Joel didn’t linger in the doorway. He brushed off the cold, heading straight to the kitchen like a man on a mission. Setting his tools down on the counter, he rolled up his sleeves, the quiet determination in his posture unmistakable. Without a word, he knelt to inspect the broken cabinet hinge, his hands already moving with practiced precision.

The room fell silent, save for the faint clink of tools and the occasional gust of wind rattling the windows. You watched him from across the kitchen, the words from the day before still circling in your mind, soft but persistent. ’Course I care.

Your voice broke the quiet, hesitant. “Where’d you learn to do all this?”

Joel didn’t glance up, his focus fixed on the hinge as his hands worked it into place with steady ease. “Construction,” he said gruffly, as though the word was too simple to explain the breadth of what it meant. His tone carried a quiet weight, the kind of admission he didn’t make often. “Did it for years… before.”

“Oh,” you murmured softly, the revelation settling over you. It caught you off guard—Joel had been a constant in your life for months now, his presence as steady as the rhythm of patrols and shared silences. You’d spent hours riding beside him, trading small talk and the occasional story, but somehow, he’d kept this piece of himself hidden. Joel Miller, who seemed to know almost everything about you, was still such a mystery.

“All done,” he said, straightening and brushing his hands off with the kind of no-nonsense efficiency that made you bite back a sigh. Ten minutes—that was all it had taken him, and now he’d be gone again, leaving behind a warmth you weren’t ready to let go of.

“If you, uh… need anything else fixed, just let me know,” he added, his tone gruff but carrying a note of softness that lingered in the air. He reached for his coat, his movements purposeful as he headed for the door.

You followed him, your gaze flicking to the storm raging outside as you opened the door. The wind roared like a living thing, flinging snow in thick, relentless waves that obscured everything beyond a few feet. Joel muttered a low, “Christ,” under his breath, his expression tightening as he took it in.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you pushed the door shut again, sealing off the bitter chill.

Joel raised an eyebrow, giving a shrug as he reached for his coat again. “Headin’ home. My place ain’t far.”

You crossed your arms, fixing him with a pointed look. “And you say I’m the one who doesn’t care about myself,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended but underpinned with concern. “You’re not going out in that.”

Joel huffed, his brow furrowing, his posture shifting like he was gearing up for an argument. But before he could get a word out, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest. It wasn’t forceful—just firm enough to stop him in his tracks, your fingers lingering against the warmth of his shirt.

“You’re staying here,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Besides, you’re the only one who knows how to start my fire, remember?”

Joel exhaled sharply, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a grumble as his shoulders slumped in reluctant surrender. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it back over the chair. “You’re a damn pain, you know that?” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, your grin widening, satisfaction flickering in your chest. “Go on, Miller. Make yourself at home.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch, but he didn’t fight you. Instead, he moved to the fireplace, crouching down with the same practiced focus as before. The sound of crackling flames soon followed, and the heat began to spread through the room, softening the chill that had lingered.

Joel straightened, his hands brushing against his jeans as he turned toward the couch. With a gruffness that seemed more for show than anything else, he eased into the worn cushions, his posture finally relaxing as he leaned back. For a moment, he just sat there, his gaze flicking to the fire, then to the tree, then—unmistakably—to you.

It was going to be a long night, the kind that stretched on slowly, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of shared warmth and unspoken words. But for the first time, neither of you seemed to mind.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as if testing the strength of the glass. The storm showed no sign of relenting, snow piling up in relentless waves. An hour had passed in the warm quiet between you and Joel, the unspoken question hanging in the air—was he staying the night?

“I’m hungry,” you sighed dramatically, sprawling on the couch with a lazy stretch. The fire crackled beside you, its glow soft against the walls, while you stole a glance at Joel, who sat across the room, his expression unreadable.

Joel let out a low groan as he pushed himself to his feet, his joints protesting the movement. He wandered toward the kitchen, his boots heavy against the floor, and pulled open one of your cabinets. “You got any food?”

You shrugged lazily, your head tilted against the couch cushions as you watched him rummage through the shelves. “Not really. I don’t cook much. Usually hit the dining hall. Or, you know… skip meals.”

Joel froze mid-motion, his back straightening as he turned to look at you. His brow furrowed, and the disapproval in his expression was unmistakable. “What?” he said, his voice low, carrying that familiar gruffness that managed to be both chastising and concerned.

You winced inwardly, realizing too late that you’d just handed him another reason to scold you. “It’s not that big a deal,” you added quickly, sitting up as if that might soften the blow.

Joel’s head shook slowly, his gaze hard as he muttered something under his breath. “Unbelievable,” he finally said, the word half to himself as he stepped toward the cabinets with more purpose. Rolling up his sleeves with a deliberate tug, he began scanning the shelves, his movements efficient and no-nonsense.

“What are you doing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him, curiosity piqued.

“Making dinner,” he replied curtly, grabbing a pan with practiced ease. His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a quiet care to the way he moved, pulling out utensils and scanning the sparse contents of your cabinets like he’d done this a thousand times before.

“You can cook?” you asked, your voice laced with amusement and a hint of disbelief.

Joel glanced over his shoulder, his expression unimpressed. “I’m 56 years old. You’d hope I know how to cook by now.”

A snort escaped you, and a teasing grin spread across your lips. “Feel free to move in, then. Handyman, chef… do you do laundry, too?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, stirring something on the stove with deliberate motions. “Hilarious,” he deadpanned, but the faintest twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

The thought, though—of living here with you, of being this small, steady presence in your life—settled deep in his chest, an ache he hadn’t felt in years. It was a longing he didn’t dare give a name.

You chuckled, the sound soft and unguarded, before leaning back into the couch. The warmth of the fire seeped into your skin, lulling you into a comfortable haze. Your eyes fluttered closed, the gentle clinking of pans and the scrape of utensils filling the space like a quiet, unexpected lullaby.

For a man who rarely spoke more than a few words at a time, Joel Miller had a way of taking care of you—whether you’d asked for it or not.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

“Wake up,” a gruff voice broke through your haze, the words sharp but not unkind. You groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow, the warmth of the fire and the soft cushions lulling you back toward sleep.

“Wake. Up,” Joel repeated, and this time you felt a hand on your shoulder—firm but surprisingly gentle, his touch softer than his tone.

“What?” you mumbled, your voice muffled as you rolled onto your back, blinking up at him through the fog of sleep.

“Dinner,” he said simply, stepping back toward the kitchen and pulling out a chair at the small dining table. He sat down, his movements steady and deliberate, waiting.

You yawned, stretching as you pushed yourself off the couch, your limbs heavy from the comfort you’d been wrapped in. Padding over to the table, you blinked the sleep from your eyes—and stopped.

Your gaze fell on the spread in front of you, simple yet thoughtful. Somehow, Joel had managed to turn the random leftovers from your cabinets into something that actually resembled a meal. The sight of it made your chest warm.

“Aww, Joel,” you said, a soft laugh escaping as you slid into the chair beside him. You looked at the plates, your heart swelling at the small details—the carefully sliced bread, the steaming stew, the way he’d even set the table. “You made all this?”

Joel gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes flicking to you briefly before focusing on his own plate. “Didn’t take much. Just used what you had.”

You took a bite of the stew, your eyes fluttering closed as the warmth and rich flavors settled in. “Alright?” Joel asked, his voice gruff but tinged with a flicker of curiosity as he watched you.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze with a smile. “Better than alright,” you replied, taking another bite, savoring every spoonful like it was the best thing you’d eaten in weeks.

After dinner, you stood and began gathering the dishes, waving him off when he moved to help. “I got it,” you insisted, practically pushing him toward the couch. Joel grumbled under his breath but relented, settling down near the fireplace.

The fire cast golden light over his features, softening the hard lines of his face as he leaned back, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames. The familiar sound of running water and the clink of dishes filled the room, and Joel found himself glancing over his shoulder.

You stood at the sink, your back to him, humming softly under your breath as you worked. Your hair fell loose over your shoulders, catching the warm glow of the firelight, and Joel couldn’t help but let his gaze linger, something soft and unspoken stirring in his chest.

When you were finished, you dried your hands and crossed the room, handing him a glass of whiskey before settling at the opposite end of the couch. Joel took the glass with a nod, the firelight catching in the amber liquid as he swirled it absentmindedly.

“The fire’s nice,” you murmured, your voice quiet and content as you leaned back into the cushions.

Joel nodded, his eyes shifting from the flames to you. “Told you it’d make a difference,” he said, his tone gruff but carrying the faintest edge of warmth.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled only with the crackling of the fire and the faint whistle of the wind outside. The tension that always seemed to linger between you felt softer now, more like a quiet understanding. You sipped your whiskey, the heat spreading through you, as Joel’s presence, steady and grounding, filled the space beside you.

Joel broke the silence to your surprise, his voice low and gruff, cutting through the comfortable hum of the fire. “What were you hummin’?” He gestured lazily toward the kitchen, where you’d been earlier, his words measured but his gaze intent.

You froze for a moment, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “Oh… you heard that?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with a shy laugh. “It’s just an old country song my dad used to sing when I was little.”

He nodded, his whiskey glass balanced carefully in his hand, his fingers tapping against the rim. “Sounded nice,” he said simply, taking a slow sip. His tone was even, unreadable, but the weight of his words hung in the air like they carried more than he’d intended.

You hesitated, then smiled, your brows raising in playful disbelief. “Was that a compliment, Miller? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Joel scoffed lightly, his gaze flickering to the fire before returning to you. “What? I compliment you all the time.”

“In what universe?” you shot back, the amusement clear in your voice. Your eyes sparkled as you leaned forward slightly, bracing your elbows on your knees, waiting for his rebuttal.

Joel shifted in his seat, leaning forward as if considering his next words carefully. His expression was thoughtful, though his lips twitched in a way that suggested he was humoring you. “Said you weren’t a bad shot,” he offered finally, his tone casual, like that was enough to make his case.

You rolled your eyes, the warmth of the fire softening the moment. “Not sure if that counts as a compliment, Joel.”

He tilted his head slightly, his jaw tightening just a fraction as he regarded you. The firelight danced over his features, carving out the lines of his face, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed like he might let it drop. But then his gaze lingered, stayed, the quiet stretch of silence between you enough to make your heart skip.

“You’ve got…” Joel began, his fingers now drumming lightly against the glass in his hand. His voice was softer, hesitant, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to finish the sentence. “Nice eyes,” he muttered finally, the words falling out clumsily, unpolished and raw.

Your breath caught, your heart thudding against your ribs. The sheer simplicity of the statement, coming from him of all people, felt like the most vulnerable thing he could’ve said. Joel Miller, with his gruff exterior and impenetrable walls, had just admitted something so small yet so intimate.

He quickly took another sip of his whiskey, his eyes darting away as though trying to escape the moment. You couldn’t help it—you laughed softly, the sound tinged with disbelief and warmth. A blush crept up your neck as you shook your head, your smile soft.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” you teased lightly, though your chest felt impossibly tight.

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. “Forget it,” he muttered, but there was something in the way his gaze flickered back to you that made your breath catch.

You turned your attention to the fire, needing a moment to steady yourself. “You know,” you began, your voice quieter now, “you don’t have to keep fixing all my stuff.”

Joel leaned back slightly, his posture loosening as he studied you. “Someone’s gotta do it,” he said simply, his voice carrying a gruff sincerity that sent a shiver through you.

“I can take care of myself,” you replied softly, glancing back at him, your eyes searching his face for something you couldn’t quite name.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Let’s see,” he said dryly, ticking off on his fingers. “Doesn’t cook, didn’t know how to start her fireplace, believes in werewolves…”

A laugh burst out of you, breaking some of the tension, though it didn’t fully ease the weight in the room. “Seriously, Joel,” you said, shaking your head. “You don’t have to.”

His expression sobered, his gaze locking on yours. For a moment, you thought he might deflect, might brush it off with another quip, but instead, just looked at you.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice low, so sure.

The words hit you harder than you expected, settling somewhere deep in your chest. He didn’t have to, but he chose to. Over and over, he chose to show up for you in ways that spoke louder than anything he could ever say. It was an unspoken truth that hung between you, heavy and charged.

Your heart pounded as you stared back at him, the air thick with something unsaid. “Joel…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words caught in your throat.

He held your gaze for a moment longer, then leaned back with a sigh, his fingers wrapping tightly around his glass. “Drink your whiskey,” he muttered, his tone gruff but not unkind, his walls creeping back up just enough to keep him safe.

You smiled faintly, shaking your head as you took a sip. The fire crackled, the warmth of the room wrapping around you both, but the weight of everything unsaid lingered, weaving an invisible thread between you.

Neither of you dared to pull at it just yet, but it was there, undeniable, and it felt like enough for now.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Tag list xxx

@bbyanarchist @kanyewestest @locked-ness @bambisweethearts @pedritospunk @ickearmn @joeldjarin @disco-barbiexx @sherrye22 @vxrona @ashhlsstuff @dendulinka6 @ashhlsstuff @r4vens-cl4ws @divineangel222 @jasminedragoon @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @handsintheeaire

[thewritergx]

Gentle Torture: Dbf!JoelxF!Reader Part 2

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Joel Miller has been losing his mind since your father's party. When he's forced to check on you, he can't hold back anymore. Pre-Outbreak.

Warnings: Smut: Age Gap (Joel in his late 30s, reader starts out at 18), Dbf!Joel, Kissing, Oral (F!Receiving), Fingering, unprotected PinV, slightly rough, some overstimulation, choking. Pet Names: Sweetheart, baby girl, good girl, little girl.

Word Count: 3.5K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I have been obsessed with the dbf trope lately. This story is very much inspired by @pearlessance. Please go check her out.

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune.

Days passed and you have not seen or heard from Joel once. You try to go on with your everyday tasks, but the memory of the shared kiss and Joel’s warm body pressed against you replays again and again in your head. You find yourself constantly looking for him, waiting to hear his echoed laughter as he makes dumb jokes with your father. You cannot help but overthink. Were you a bad kisser? Did you do something wrong? Did he hate you? 

You tried to bury yourself in work. You scheduled as many hair and nail appointments as you could in the small town, even giving clients discounts. You knew Joel was avoiding you. That much was crystal clear. 

Joel was a complete mess. Shame and anger guilted him. How could he have been so stupid? He was so possessive and desperate over you. Over his best friend’s daughter. It was pathetic. He could not get your little moans out of his head. Could not stop replaying the way you shivered at his light touches. Could not stop imagining what your little cunt would feel like wrapped around him as he plows into you. He could not sleep, could not eat. Jerking off was not even working anymore.

Joel hated that he had been ignoring you. He hated that he had to lie to your dad, telling him he was sick with the flu. He knew it was for the best, and again he started to question if there was any good in him at all. You were so young, so innocent. He knew it was wrong, so wrong. But you wanted him. Needed him, just as much as he needed you. Joel wished you hated him. Wish you had screamed at him and told him to get the fuck off you. Wish you did not let him cause those beautiful moans to leak out of you. He did not deserve it. Did not deserve you. 

The days were dragging on and Joel missed you. Even missed hanging out with your dad. He was scared. He did not know if you ever wanted to see him again. Maybe it was just a one-time thing for you, something that just happened in the moment. 

In the last few days, he left for work late, waiting until he heard your car pull out of the driveway next door before he even got out of bed. He came home late, an entire hour after he knew you would get home, just so he did not have to pass you outside as you walked into your house. 

You were fucking his entire life up. 

Joel sat idly at his kitchen table, nursing a cup of hot coffee and watching the news on TV. The sound of his cell phone ringing shakes him from the TV. He picks it up, annoyed to see a text from your dad. 

‘Hey Joel, know you're not feeling too hot. I’ll be out of town this week on a work trip. I was wondering if you’d check on y/n while I’m gone?’

Joel's face darkens. Damn it. It's not like he has an excuse to say no. 

‘Yeah, no problem. I’ll stop by when I get off later’ Joel responded, slamming his phone down on the table. Fucking great. 

The day passes and you get home, excited for some alone time. You slip into a thin pair of shorts and a crop top, ditching your shoes in the doorway of your room. Your mind cannot help but wander to Joel. What was he doing? Where was he? You turn on the TV in the living room, curling up in a blanket, hoping it will distract you from him.

Joel drags his feet the entire day. He tries to stay at work as late as possible, but he knows it’s just slowing the inevitable. When he pulls up to his driveway, he can’t help but picture you inside your house, all alone. He knows he shouldn’t but his legs beckon him to your front door. He could just text you, and ask if you need anything. But instead, he was standing outside, hating himself. 

A knock at the door startles you and you sit up straighter. You stand slowly pausing the movie as you step towards the door. You open it in shock, a tired Joel Miller in the doorway. He’s wearing jeans, boots, and a dusty work shirt. His forehead is slightly beaded with sweat from the hot Texas sun and fuck his skin is so golden. It is clear to you he has been working all day, dark circles under his eyes. 

“Hey, my dad’s not here”, you mumble, hardly peeking out from behind the door. 

“I know. He told me to check you,” Joel spoke calmly even though his skin was crawling to slam the door open, come inside, and have his way with you. 

“I’m fine,” you responded with a roll of your eyes and a hint of fire in your tone. 

Joel stands there, hands buried deep in his pockets, eyes locking onto yours. His gaze darkens at your tone, fist tightening into balls. “Text if you need anything. You know where I'll be.” His voice comes out with a low, gruff frustration. 

“I’m not a child and I don’t need anything,” you scowl, closing the door harshly behind you before stumbling back towards the couch. Who did he think he was? He could be all sweet one second, kiss you like he was possessed, and then not talk to you for days? You were over it. Completely fucking over it. 

Joel stands at the door for a moment, jaw clenched in anger, annoyance, and desire. Even when you were pissed at him, you were so fucking beautiful. So perfect. He thinks about knocking again but forces himself to turn around and walk home. 

Joel lays in bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. He cannot get you out of his mind. The way you looked at him so hurt earlier fucking killed him. 

His mind thinks back to that night, your tiny frame and silky smooth skin. The way you came on his fingers, god the way you moaned his fucking name. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight and before he processed what he was doing, he was getting dressed and walking back to your house. 

The moon cast a silver glow over the street, each stride Joel took leaving his heart racing. He swore he could feel his blood pumping and his ears rang. He stood on the porch praying you were still awake. He had no idea what time it was, didn't even bother to check his phone when he left. His chest grew tight and he gently knocked on the door.

Of course, you were still up, tossing and turning with annoyance in your bed. Joel didn’t know it but you were just as exhausted as he was. Your heart pounded in your chest as a quiet knock stirred you out of your daydreams. You quickly walk to the front door, flipping on the living room light. You looked through the peephole, surprised to see Joel, his head down. You open the door, slightly smiling.

Joel looks up, surprised to see you standing in a pair of black panties and a loose-fitted t-shirt. The sight of you like this drove him crazy, his mind going blank for a moment. 

He’s so lost in you, he doesn't even realize that he's walked inside the house. His eyes roam over your body and he tries to think of any words to say. 

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice soft and breathy. His name was a plea, a trembling surrender to him. 

It causes Joel to snap back to reality. He takes a deep breath, his eyes wandering down to your exposed legs. It takes every ounce of restraint to not pull you into his arms and take you right here on the front door. 

“Sorry, I-I came over here like this…Can’t sleep. I, fuck. I had to come see you,” Joel stands awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, his voice shy and sheepish. You had never heard him sound nervous before. Despite the obvious need he felt to touch you, he stayed locked in place, a few steps away from you. 

“Me either” you muttered, nervously playing with your fingers. 

Joel lets out a quiet sigh, his eyes scanning the room like he had never been here before. He’s completely unsure of what to say or do, his mind too drunk on how sexy you look in front of him. 

The two of you stand in silence, both too nervous to move. 

“Where have you been?” You ask, the environment of the room drying out your throat. 

Joel shifts uncomfortably at your question, his gaze wandering to your eyes before landing on the floor below you. “Been busy,” is all he can force himself to respond with. 

“Right, busy” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Joel knows you don't buy it. It was obvious to the both of you that he was ignoring you. What the fuck was he supposed to say? He feels so fucking guilty. Guilty for ignoring you. Guilty for leaving you in the kitchen like that. Guilty for not being able to fuck you properly that night. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. I just…You don’t know what it’s like, even standing and talking to you, I can't stop thinking about taking you in that room and fucking you until you beg me to stop.” 

Your skin grows hot at his words and you take a step closer to him. Joel's heart races, your body close enough that he can feel your warmth. He’s trying his best to keep composure but it’s getting harder and harder with each passing second. 

“What are you doing?” Joel asks, his voice low and stuck in his throat. An involuntary shiver escapes him.

“Just need to be close to you, need to feel you,” The sound of the subtle plea in your words nearly breaks Joel. A low growl escapes him and in a second he closes the gap between you. His eyes are locked on yours. 

Joel's hand cups your face gently, his tough hands so tender on your soft skin. “You have no idea how much I want you”. His toned body towers over you, a shiver rushing down your spine as he leans his head down, lips hovering an inch above yours. 

He groans, finally meeting your lips, and all his resolve breaks. His tongue seeks out yours, nipping at your bottom lip. He explores his mouth, mapping out every inch, filled with a hunger Joel can't seem to control. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him and his muscles quiver in an effort of restraint. He wants to take you right here, bend you over and fuck you from the back. But he knows he has to be gentle, has to give you as much pleasure as possible. 

Joel’s arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. He holds you tightly, placing your legs around his waist. His hands make a home on your ass and he carries you to your room, his steps slow and calculated in the dimly lit house. 

He uses a hand to open the door and gently lays you on the bed. Your brain is all fucked out already. His eyes roam over your form, studying every inch of you like you might disappear. 

Joel gently hovers over you, supporting his weight on his forearms as you resume kissing him. His lips explore your neck, making his mark on you with soft bites and sucks. You melt beneath him, moaning soft cries. 

You lift your hips up, the thin material of your panties allowing you to feel the hard bulge in Joel’s sweatpants. He lets out a groan, allowing you to groan against him. He never wanted it to stop. Joel’s hands roamed down your body, leaving a line of fire in the wake of his fingers and he traveled from your neck to chest, to your waist. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel praised, lifting himself onto his knees. He gently pulls at the soft fabric of your shirt. “May I?” Joel asks softly, meeting your eyes. 

You nod your head, arching your back off the bed. Joel is practically crying when he lifts the t-shirt over your head, your perfect tits on display. Your nipples were the perfect shade of pink, erect in the cool air. 

Joel swallowed hard, undoing the buttons of his flannel and throwing it off his shoulders. You had never really gotten a chance to see him without a shirt on. God, he was toned, his strong arms flexing with every movement. 

Joel wrapped his lips around a perfect perky nipple, a sweet hint of vanilla to your skin. Little ‘ohs’ escaped you, your hand traveling down to Joel’s toned back. He licked at the soft bud, massaging the other gently. He didn't realize just how big your tits were til he was face deep inside them, leaving soft hot kisses on the fat. 

He pitched your nipple, twisting it softly between two fingers. You relaxed into his touch, gently caressing his back and moaning his name over and over. Joel would never get tired of the way each letter spilled out of your mouth. 

Joel released your swollen nipple with a pop, quickly swallowing the other. Your hips grinded against him more and you could only take so much teasing.

“Need more”, you pleaded, back arching and hips writhing.

Joel was quick to give you what you wanted, bringing a hand down to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, dampness creating a dark circle at your entrance. Your eyes slowly move down, watching Joel’s hand gently massage the swollen outside of your pussy. 

You whine at the view, Joel's large hand gently playing with your lips. He used a finger to hook the material, pulling your panties down in a swift motion. He tosses them somewhere, dragging his body until his knees are planted on the ground. He grabs your thighs, pulling you until your ass is just hanging off the bed. 

“Bet you taste so fucking good. Gonna let me eat that pretty little pussy?” 

“Please,” you whined, needing his touch more than air. 

Joel placed soft, wet kisses on your thighs, wrapping his forearms around the back of your thighs, holding your legs apart. You stayed still, waiting as he blew cold air on your clit, gently separating your slippery lips when his fingers. His breath was a new sensation, your body craving more. His soft lips hovered above your pussy, licking a long thick stripe from your entrance to her clit. Joel's tongue was soft and warm against your sensitive skin, licking small cat licks between you slit.

Joel brushed his tongue in a circle around your clit, your hand gently grabbing at his hair and the other pulling at the blanket below you. He flicked his tongue up and down, left and right, faster than you could have anticipated. Loud slurping sounds filled the room and you wondered how Joel was even breathing.

His nose brushes against your clit, lapping his tongue at the entrance of your cunt without warning. He pushed it in and out, tasting every drop of arousal your pussy could provide him. 

“Better than I ever fucking imagined,” he vibrated against your core, sending a shock wave through you. He hummed, tracing your clit again.

Joel licked the sides of your entrance, gently sliding the tip of his middle finger inside you. You let out a gasp, moaning his name and tightening the grip on his hair. Joel quickly found the best pace, paying great detail to the way your mouth hung open and eyebrows furrowed. Your legs clenched around him in desperation as Joel sunk his finger further inside. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled to himself. Joel couldn't believe he was knuckle deep in his best friend's daughter, a girl half his age…again. Fuck, you weren't even 20 yet. 

Joel brushed the thought away, pumping his finger in and out, swirling and curling them to open you up as much as he could. He searched for your sweet spot, hitting it over and over as he lapped his tongue in your slit.

You bucked your hips, so close to release. Joel knew it. He pumped his finger faster, sucked your clit more, and spit roughly on your pussy, his saliva running down the back of your ass cheek.  

Your orgasm shot through you, wave after wave hitting you like lightning. Joel’s grip on you tightened, unwilling to let you slip out of his grip until he was sure you had ridden your orgasm all the way through. By the time he came up for air, his hair was a mess and his chest was rising and falling, leaving him all out of breath. 

“That’s my good girl,” He groaned, hovering above you and kissing you deeply. 

God, he was obsessed with how responsive you were. 

Joel stood at the edge of the bed, carefully removing his shoes and pulling down the sweatpants that hung loosely from his waist. You watched as he undressed, the bulge in his boxers undeniable. Joel Miller could not believe all the choices he made in life had led him…here. Standing above you, your legs sprawled out, pussy wet and glistening for him.

You swallow your nervousness, eyes locked on his member as he kicks off his boxers. His cock sprung free, precum gathering at the top. He was bigger than you imagined, not huge but definitely more than the average. Joel's cock stopped just below his belly button, the tip a shade lighter than the rest. He looked delicious, his balls a perfect size to slap your clit.

Joel smirked as he met your eyes like he was reading your thoughts. 

“You done this before?” Joel asked simply.

You nodded your head. “Just a couple, with my ex-boyfriend”.

Joel hummed, a slight smirk painted on his lips. “That’s good”. Joel felt himself ease a bit, no longer nervous he was the first man to be inside you. It made him feel less creepy, less like a piece of shit. 

“It’s been, kinda a while and he wasn’t… as big as you.” You whispered, your voice coxed with fear and trembling.

“That’s okay, sweet girl. I’m gonna be so gentle with ya.” Joel responded tenderly, placing a light kiss on your neck.

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation. He was so…new to you. 

Joel stepped closer, hovering about you and bringing your legs up, bending them at the knees so your ankles hung next to his shoulders. He placed a soft kiss on your ankle, caressing his hand up and down your shin. 

Joel lined his thick cock with your entrance, the tip teasing you. “You think you're ready for me, baby?” Joel asked, softly cupping your cheek. 

You nodded in agreement, softly closing your eyes.

“Need to hear you say it, baby” Joel spoke, a serious tone hidden behind the layer of desire.

“I’m ready Joel. Please…put it in.” 

Joel hummed in response, biting the inside of his cheek. He gently grabbed the base of his cock, pushing the tip just inside your tight hole. He was seeing stars already. God, how could you feel this good?

You inhale sharply, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders, and dragging your nails down with more force than you intended. You hoped it didn't hurt, but the thought of leaving a mark on him drove you crazy.

“Relax, baby. I got you. I got you.” Joel groaned into your neck, pushing himself further inside you. He placed a kiss on your lips, swallowing your cries of pleasure. Joel stayed in place as long as he could, his body screaming to push its way inside, fuck you until you were a mess of tears.

You have never been stretched out this much. Joel’s hard cock hit the back of you with a rough pressure, causing a yelp to escape you and your hands to reach out towards his stomach, pushing him out some. Joel tried to stay gentle but he knew you could take him. He grabbed your wrist, pushing it away from him and sinking back inside. 

“Too big,” you cried, a single tear forming in your eyes as Joel pulled out of you, the tip crashing back down and hitting your soft walls. You were so fucking tight around him, you were practically sucking him in. 

“You got it, baby girl. You can take it.” Joel growled, slamming gently into you with clenched teeth. “Take my cock, baby.” 

The bed creaked below you, the frame hitting the wall with an audible thud. Joel pushed your thighs down, ankles bouncing with each thrust. He was completely fucked. He would crave you every night now. God, why was he doing this?

Your vision blurred, a jolt of electricity pooled in your stomach, a fire igniting so hot in you. “Fuck yes!” you screamed, creamy white arousal gathering at the bottom of Joel's cock. The sight sent him into hyperdrive, thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Joel paid your orgasm no mind, counting his thrust as you whined and wiggle under him, completely overstimulated by his touch, the way his cock was hitting you at that perfect angle. You were sure you’d never have sex like this with anyone other than him again. 

“Fucking good slut, taking me so well,” Joel growled, his thrust too hard for you to handle. “Told you, you could” Joel laughed, wrapping a hand around your throat and giving it a light squeeze. You gasped, swallowing as air slowly escaped you. He knew he shouldn't be here and this was why. He was trying so hard to be gentle, but he still couldn't stop himself from making a complete mess of you. Before you knew it, you were screaming out his name again, tightening your walls around him and cumming harder than ever before. “Ah!”, you whined, feeling Joel crash into your cervix hard. 

Your high-pitched moans reduced to soft cries, hips bucking, pleading for a break. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, tried to push him off a bit, but Joel was unmoveable. He grabbed your wrist, pushing them above your head and holding your hands in his. His finger intertwined with yours, engulfing you in his grasp. You clenched your walls around Joel, body almost rejecting his thick cock.

“Love this cunt, baby. Fucking love ya” Joel growled into your neck, his thrust becoming messy and uneven. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum baby. Where you want it?” Joel asked, sweat pulling at his forehead. He had hoped to last long, craved to have you cumming over and over again around him. But you were so warm, so fucking tight around him. He would have believed you if you told him you were a virgin.

“Oh fuck,” you cried Joel’s dick hitting you with so much force you thought you might be bruised. 

Joel groaned, pulling his cock out and quickly cumming on your stomach before you got a chance to process what was happening. 

“Goddamn, you were made for me,” Joel whispered, crashing on the bed next to you and pulling your shaky body on top of him. "My sweet little girl."

You stay like this for a while, Joel gently caressing your hair as your eyes get heavier and heavier. Finally, you both could rest. 

[probablyreadinsmut]

Fallin'

18+ ONLY - MDNI.

(Formerly Good Graces)

Please note: The images used above do not reflect readers skin colour or her description. You are the main character in this fic.

Joel Miller X Afab!Reader

Set Pre and Post Apocalypse

Summary:

Reader is Joel's neighbour, a mid to late twenties pastry chef, who finds herself running on fumes. You're married to your high-school sweetheart Matt and for the longest time you were happy.

The loss of his job a few months prior changed him and before you knew it, the man you'd married didn't exist anymore. Replaced by a volatile stranger, it was him, but it wasn't him.

Joel Miller finds himself at the centre of it all and when the world ends, the trouble for him, doesn't end with it.

Warnings/Tags for this fic: Verbal abuse, Porn mentioned, Angst, Language, Alcohol abuse, Death, Canon Typical Violence, Original Characters, Smut, PIV Sex (Unprotected, wrap it before you tap it), Fingering, Oral (M&F receiving), Pregnancy scare, Angst, Cheating (readers husband is a dick tho).No use of y/n. No physical descriptions of reader, no height, weight, skin colour, eye colour, no mention of hair type, length or colour. Reader has a vagina and breasts. Pussy pronouns used. Terrible knowledge of various American states - I'm British and relying on Google maps haha. It would also explain why you'll see things spelled differently such as, 'Neighbour'. Use of pet names e.g : Sweetheart, Darlin, sweetpea etc.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing, alcohol mentioned, Verbal abuse. Probably poor proof reading so my apologies if I make a mistake somewhere.

Tagging my mutuals, if you'd rather I didn't please lmk <3

@almostempty (this is me grovelling for forgiveness bc I know you've already read part of this 🥲) @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @lovely-vamp-princess @morallyinept

The Fic is named after this absolute tune of a song

I'll stop yappin' now. This is a rewrite so thoughts welcome <3

Word Count: 4.2k

Chapter One - Sometimes I love you, sometimes you make me blue.

April 12th 2003.

It's truly has been hell today. Lunch service was a fucking nightmare, the chefs all seemed to be in a shit mood as it was, so when the front of house started sending through order after order, the ticket machine working overtime to print them, you absolutely knew you were going to be hearing that thing in your sleep for days now. It could only get worse from there and it did. Despite being a pastry chef they'd asked you to jump on the line to help, which usually you wouldn't mind, but today the dessert orders were coming through thick and fast aswell, but hey, you're a people pleaser so you tried to do both and how'd that work out for you? Terribly that's how.

You misread tickets. "Hey table 8 asked for no radishes! Get your shit together over there!". You over cooked the cake you had in the oven, finding it dense and dry when you finally got off the line.

There was so much more as well, but it had all become a stressful blur, going into what you like to call 'Survival mode' for the rest of your shift. 

You were just having a bad day. That was the mantra that was going around and around in your head. 

///

By the time you get out of work at 7 and start to drive home, you're exhausted and tense, gripping the steering wheel so tight on the way home your knuckles turn white. Not even listening to your favourite CD is helping. 

Alicia Keys soulful voice still fills the car. By now you'd be singing along unrestrained, belting out the lyrics to Fallin' but right now it may as well all be white noise to you. 

Why? Because you know what you're going home to. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the glint of the gold wedding band sitting on your ring finger as a constant reminder that you're not about to go home to an empty, quiet house. You won't just be able to slip into a hot bath and self medicate with that unopened bottle of wine in the fridge. But, oh how you wish you could.

Matt. You were married right out of high school, he was your first everything and you couldn't see yourself wanting to spend the rest of your life without him. These days though.

You always knew marriage wouldn't be plain sailing but you were only prepared for the obvious things like how to keep your marriage alive, how to adjust to becoming parents someday, what you would do if one of you ever got sick. But when he'd lost his job a few months back, nothing could have possibly prepared you for the dramatic shift that would come with it. The drinking, the way he spoke to you now, like you were a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe.

You didn't recognise this man. He wasn't your Matty anymore.

///

It's about 7.45 by the time you pull up onto the driveway, the cul de-sac is quiet, save for a few kids riding their bikes up and down the street, it's almost dark but the street lamps provide enough light and you weren't a parent so who were you to judge? The street is a pretty safe one, away from the busier main roads that lead into the city anyway. 

Killing the engine, a heavy sigh leaves you as the car falls into silence. A quick glance in the mirror shows the bags under your eyes and your hair flat on your head from being under your skullcap all day. You could just stay in the car a little longer, but honestly? That's just delaying the inevitable.

As you get out, there's a squeek of bike tyres behind you and a soft voice calling out your name, formally of course, she's clearly been raised to 'respect her elders' it's sweet the way you've seen her interact with the Adlers across the street, Sarah's a good kid. You almost don't hear her in your daze but on the third time just as she's about to speak again "Mrs--".

You spin around to face her, plastering a smile on your face, dead on your feet from working a 10 hour shift but the idea of going inside and facing Matt after a day like today isn't a prospect you're keen on anyway. "Oh hey Sarah, sorry I'm just in a world of my own tonight!"

Sarah's a bright kid, she had to grow up quickly in a way after her mom left, she's seen her dad on his worst days, adopting a sixth sense on how to know when somethings wrong, but she also knows when it's best not to pry too much, even if right now 'Is everything okay?' is on the tip of her tongue, she won't ask.

"Thats okay, my dad spaces out too sometimes after a long day" It's a relief to you honestly, the last thing you want is to try and explain all your adult problems to a twelve year old, you couldn't even if you tried. "I've been meaning to say thank you for giving me that brownie recipe, Uncle Tommy loved them, said I should be a baker when I'm older" She beams proudly, soft brown eyes crinkling at the corners. 

It's almost impossible not to smile back, your own lips turning upwards into a warm smile, a genuine one for the first time today. "Well you're very welcome and hey, I could always use an extra set of-"

You're interrupted by your own front door swinging open, Matt stepping out onto the porch, hands on hips as he barks your name. Your smile vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. 

Something Sarah doesn't fail to notice. 

"The hell are you still doing out here? I heard you pull up nearly 20 minutes ago." He's exaggerating, it's barely any time at all, but this is what he does. It's what manipulation does to a person. 

He notices Sarah over your shoulder and his tone immediately changes, like a chameleon changing colours to blend in with its surroundings. It makes your skin crawl because you know him, the real him. The subtle swaying suggests he's been drinking already, for how long though? You don't know. What you do know is that the second you step foot inside, that's when he'll drop the facade. The look in his icy blue eyes tells you enough to know that. You'd wonder what you've done to upset him this time, but it would be pointless.

"Oh hey Sarah, sorry didn't see ya there!" He calls out to her in an overly sweet tone with a raise of his hand, Sarah gives him a small barely there smile in return. 

"That's okay, I'd better get going anyway, my dad doesn't like me staying out too long after dark. See you around." you turn your head in her direction just as she's about to get back on her bike and there's an expression you've never seen before from her specifically. Pity. As a child of divorce herself, she knows when something isn't right.

You watch for a moment longer as she rides her bike back across the street. 

Joel's slightly beaten pick up truck parked on the driveway gives you a small sense of relief that at least she's not going home to an empty house tonight. He's a contractor, you knew that much from what Sarah had mentioned about him in passing before and for some reason you'd stored away that little nugget of information about him. 

You've noticed that sometimes he works late into the night. That 1am 'I need to hydrate now or I'm surely going to wither away' trip to the kitchen has made it so you've witnessed his late home arrivals through the kitchen window many times, practically dragging himself out of the cab, ready to collapse into an exhausted heap. 

You had to admire that though, doing it all by himself. Sometimes you think about going it alone too, more so these days. 

A stern call of your name behind you snaps you out of your thoughts and back to reality. Matt. 

"I'm coming." Even if he clocked the resignation in your voice, he wouldnt care anyway. You follow him inside the house and the day you just wanted to end, wouldn't be over yet. 

///

As Sarah opens the backdoor into the kitchen she registers two things. One, the radio is on, the familiar twang of Johnny Cash filling the kitchen, but the second thing? Snoring. Just over the radio she can hear snoring and it brings a small smirk to her face as she rounds the corner, crouching down to untie her converse and neatly tuck them away on the shoe rack. 

"Dad?"

With a jolt, Joel is awake, back aching from falling asleep hunched over the dining table, blueprints for the next big job sticking to his cheek for a second before he prys it off, wiping the back of his sleeve over his mouth, he'd been drooling. Yikes.

Taking a moment to straighten himself out and blink away the fatigue before he responds "Uh... Yeah, in here darlin!" 

"You fell asleep didn't you?" It's always embarrassing for him when she catches him like this, knowing that the teasing about how old he is will go on for days now. "It's barely 8pm and you're falling asleep at the table, sorry dad but I think it's time I start picking up nursing home brochures!"

"I'm only thirty-five, you little shit." it's a reply full of mirth, she's the light of his life and she knows it. He rubs a hand over his tired face, realising he needs to shave soon as the stubble scratches across his skin.  "How was your bike ride? The gears still sticking at all? I can take a look again if you need me to."

"Nah, s'okay now thanks." The fidget of Sarah's hands and the twist of her lips as she sits down at the across the table tells him somethings wrong.

"Sweetpea? Everythin' okay over there?" he can't help the way his dark eyes fill with concern as he looks at his baby girl, wondering if the neighbour kids were assholes to her, or if something happened at school today, something is playing on her mind. 

"Well, yes and no. I'm okay personally but-- You know the lady across the street? She gave me the recipe for those brownies Uncle Tommy loved?" Her tone makes him wonder where she's going with this, nodding his head once, prompting her to continue.

"I- I think somethings wrong with her, dad. I was talking to her outside her house just now and everything was fine until her husband came out and- I don't know, I saw the look on her face and I heard the way he spoke to her when he thought I wasn't there and the way he switched up when he realised I was. Something didn't feel right."

///

Little did Joel Miller know, this would be where his trouble would all start.

///

It had been a couple of weeks since that night at the dining table when Sarah told him about the neighbour. Joel had tried not to get involved, he really had. But what Sarah had told him just keeps playing over and over in his mind. 

"Darlin' no ones marriage is perfect, they're probably goin' through some shit right now, pretty sure her husband lost his job a few months back, hardly ever see him leave the house these days" he'd told her with a sigh. Joel did notice these things, the cul de-sac was small and from what he knew about the couple across the street, which was very little at this point, was that she was a pastry chef and he worked in IT. His car was hardly ever on the driveway before, now? It barely moves.

"No dad... You didn't hear the way he spoke to her, you didn't see her face when he came out, it was like someone flipped a switch. She looked so--" There's a pause as she tries to find the right word. "Dejected".

///

April 29th, 2003.

It's early in the morning when you're sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, pounding head propped up in your hand as you're going through the overdue bills spread out across it, unable to sleep thinking about everything. These days that's literal. The clock on the stove reads 5.25am. 

The big red lettering seems to deepen the splitting headache, feeling like someone's taking an axe to your head right now.  'OVERDUE - DO NOT IGNORE.' 

Hard to ignore that. Not that you're trying, but right now you're doing the math to try and work out what you can cut back on to be able to pay these things off and at every turn you're always short for something. Maybe you can pick up some extra shifts at the restaurant... Or become a part time stripper, they make good money, right? 

A heavy sigh leaves you as you scrub a hand down your face, picking up the steaming cup of herbal tea next to you, lifting it to your lips. "You'd better solve all my problems" you're pretty sure you're going insane mumbling that to an inanimate object but seeing the words 'Stress relieving' on the box in the supermarket, may have given you false hope. 

It's not until a couple of hours later that you realise how long you've been sat at the counter for, hearing heavy footsteps descending the creaky wooden stairs, another thing that needs to be fixed, more money you don't have right now. 

Immediately you feel yourself tense up, he's up early today, you think to yourself. These days you never really see Matt before 11am. Not since he was laid off a few months back, the company was downsizing, moving out of Texas altogether infact, so his only choices were to either take severance or travel out of state for work, something that even with his salary and yours, it wouldn't have been affordable. 

He took the first option. The severance pay hadn't lasted long at all, you'd lived a comfortable life before that but the second you knew he was losing his job you did the responsible thing and gave up the things that weren't necessary. Gym membership, jogging was free anyway. The once a month manicure, it didn't cost a lot but you could live without it. You started grocery shopping at a cheaper supermarket and found that actually you were being ripped off the whole time before anyway, everything was great quality and budget friendly, silver linings and all that. 

And then there was your morning coffee, from your favourite little family run coffee place just around the corner from work. You missed it and the warm greetings you'd get going in there, they knew you by name and now? Ugh.

The shitty instant coffee at work just wasn't the same but at least it was free.

But it's what you have to do, right? As a responsible adult. 

Well, try telling that to your husband. Despite him being the one who's lost his job, he's not sacrificed much. The cigarettes, but you tell yourself that's justifiable, they help with stress relief. He still goes out to the bar once a week to meet up with his old high school buddies, they clearly didn't know how far his drinking habit has gone, or maybe they did and they were encouraging it. You hoped not.

Most recently he's taken up another hobby, one you're not particularly fond of in all honesty but of course, you can't say anything. Mail order porn. 

You have nothing against porn, it's part of most people's sex lives and these days it's natural with the rise of the Internet, there are websites for these things now which is actually kind of crazy to think about. When you were a teenager, there was one particular channel on the family TV that if you angled the ariel just right you were pretty sure you could see tits. Or maybe that was an ass? It was too fuzzy to tell.

Still, seeing that charge on the credit card statement was a shocker. You went over old statements to make sure you weren't imagining things and nope, you weren't, it was a new charge, a new subscription. $49.99 a month for mail order porn, a website called 'Bangforyourbuck.com'. A double innuendo, tasteful. 

That kind of pissed you off, yes he'd been the one to lose his job and yes he was stressed but you were stressed too. You're the one keeping everything afloat these days, paying all the bills on one Salary, cutting back on things. Meanwhile he's adding to both your stress and the monthly outgoings. The thought of saying anything about it though? That would be like offering yourself up to a firing squad.

And god forbid one of you gets sick now, he was the one with the good insurance. That's long gone.

A gruff "Hey" pulls you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner and you force a smile. 

"Morning sweetie. You're up early" You find yourself watching your tone a lot these days, constantly walking on eggshells. Even what you just said 'You're up early' you made sure you didn't say it in a way that sounded too surprised to see him this side of the morning, incase he took offence. 

He yanks open the refrigerator and grabs a carton of orange juice from the door, twisting the cap off before he takes a large gulp straight from the source. You hate that, oh my god you hate that so much. You want to yell 'Get a fucking glass!' but you don't, you can't. 

"Yeah. I've got a thing today" very cryptic. When does he ever have a 'thing' these days? "What are you doing?" he asks as he comes to stand behind you, peering over your shoulder at the overdue bills, just looming there. Gone are the days when this would have sent a little thrill up your spine at the prospect of being bent over the same counter for a quickie before you both part ways and go to work with matching smiles on your faces. Now it just makes you go cold, waiting for the next thing to set him off. 

"I couldn't sleep so, just trying to figure out where we can cut back a little. I uh. I was thinking, actually-"

"Were you? That's rare." First jab of the day, you know it's meant as an insult, there's no banter behind it. 

"Uh yeah. Actually. W-what about if...Since you don't need your car right now for work we sell it and you can borrow mi--" 

"Are you fucking insane?" Here we go. He takes a small step back from you, enough for you to turn in your seat to face him, shoulders slumped, eyes cast down into your lap, like a child about to be scolded. "No, no fucking way are we selling my car, I wouldn't be seen dead in that shit heap you drive around. Besides, I'll need it soon anyway, I've got a job interview today, that's why I'm up, gotta get into the city for 9.30. Gotta make a good impression, wouldn't do that if I showed up in what you drive"

"That's great honey..." You muster up false enthusiasm from somewhere, plastering a sweet smile on your face as you look at him, the man you were so in love with once, you fell in love with everything about him, you loved to run your fingers through his hair, you loved the way it curled when it was damp, you loved how lost in his icy blue you could get and how dark they could go when the two of you would be intimate. Now? Nothing.

There's nothing as you look at him, a few short months changed the way you saw him. He wasn't like this before, you could have missed some sighs maybe? No, you're pretty sure he was perfect. Wasn't he? He only drank socially before, now he needs no excuse for it.

"Yeah it is, as for this?" He gestures to the bills on the counter behind you. "Figure it the fuck out, that's your job. Use a fucking calculator if your dumbass can't work it out." You hate the way your eyes mist up and you know he sees it, he just doesn't care. "I need to go shower and get ready" He mumbles, stalking back out of the kitchen, leaving you alone, silently crying as you turn back to face the bills, big red letter staring back at you. 'OVERDUE - DO NOT IGNORE.'

///

Standing on the driveway a little before 9am, you're waving him off as he's pulling away to go to his interview. God you hope he gets it, for multiple reasons. 

As you're watching his car disappear around the corner, your neighbour across the street is rounding it in his truck, probably back from taking his daughter to school.

You never see any women coming and going surprisingly, Joel is a handsome guy, you might be married but you're not blind, after all. You thought he'd at least be dating, but maybe he's too busy for it, being a single dad, doing the work he does with all the long hours. Still, he seems like a nice guy, but you thought your husband was a nice guy too, so maybe you're just a shitty judge of character these days. 

It's not until he's getting out of his truck that you realise you're day dreaming again, snapping yourself out of it, about to head back inside when-

"Mornin'." He calls from across the street and you almost think he's talking to someone else but when he says your name and starts to cross the street? Oh, he is talking to you. This is new. 

"Uh hi? How's things?" Be less awkward, Matts not here, he won't see you out here talking to him. You know he doesn't like Joel, you're pretty sure it's a petty male jealousy thing. Matt is good looking of course, you thought he was the hottest man on the planet at one point. But Joel's taller, he's got that dark and brooding thing going on, he works with his hands, he's a little older than you but it seems like he's reaching that mid thirties sweetspot. Oh my god stop mentally ogling the neighbour. Christ it's been a while since you got laid hasnt it? 

He stops at your mailbox, resting his palm flat against it, dressed in dusty work boots, dark washed denim jeans that fit just right, a navy blue and white flannel on with buttons undone and a dark grey tee underneath. "Yeah, yeah things are good. Sarah made those brownies again last week, you know, with the recipe you gave her?" That little grin of his is dangerous, making him more handsome than he already is, but you can't help the way you smile back because of it. 

"Oh yeah? And what's the verdict?" 

"Like a little slice of heaven. I'd eat that for breakfast, lunch and dinner if she'd let me." 

That draws a genuine chuckle from you, he's never heard your laugh before, but honestly? He finds himself wanting to hear it more and he can't even tell if it's for selfish reasons or not.

"So uh" he starts, shifting awkwardly on his feet, wondering how the fuck you're supposed to bring this up? He can't just outright ask if you're having marital problems. He doesn't know you and you don't know him, after all. "Matt is it? That's your husband, right?" 

You try to hide the way your expression falls at the mention of his name, a weak smile on your face, but your body language gives it all away, the subtle gulp, the awkward shift of your feet, the way you cross your arms as if it were a barrier over your already broken heart. 

"Yeah?" 

"You and Matt. The two of you doing okay?" 

"Why wouldn't we be?" You start to get defensive slightly, even if you don't mean to. 

"Listen--" he takes a small step closer, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm not tryin' to stick my nose in where its not wanted but Sarah thought somethin' was off when she saw you a couple weeks ago and Jimmy-" Jimmy Cooper, the guy with the loud ass dog a few doors down from you "-Well he thought he heard yellin' a few nights ago and--"

A scoff leaves you before you can even think about it."So what? We argue, married couples argue. It's normal, it doesn't warrent being gossiped about!" Where is this fire when your husbands talking to you like shit? You know the' argument' in question, it was just him yelling at you for an hour straight because he has misplaced something, you can't even remember what now because your brain was too fried from being at work all day, coming home to your living room basically being tipped upside down as he's on a rampage looking for it. It hadn't even occurred to you until later on that night, after you'd finished putting the living room back together that the window had been open and that perhaps the entire fucking state had heard everything. 

"Darlin', Jimmy wasn't gossiping trust me, I don't listen to idle gossip anyways, he was genuinely concerned, I'm genuinely concerned. The things he said he heard--" There's that same look, the one you saw on Sarah's face a few weeks back, pity. 

"I'm sorry but I missed the part where my marriage is any of your fucking business" You snap, wondering where the hell this woman is hiding. "Thanks for the 'concern' but I don't need it. Have a good day Joel." You say hotly, turning on your heel to head back inside, the door slamming a little harder than you intended behind you. 

"God dammit" Joel mutters, running a hand through his dark waves in exasperation. 

And then he clocks it, the trash can on your driveway, separate to general household waste, lid slightly askew. Full to the brim with empty beer bottles.

///

This wasn't going to be something he could just leave alone, was it? 

[metaphoricgibberish]

Nights Like This One: XXIII.

"He thought he knew terror, until he saw her, shivering on the forest floor, screaming— this abhorrent sound that rattled his head, squeezed brutally at his heart— into the night, her clothes torn and dirty, that bleeding cut on her brow. It was then, he realized, he did not know terror, not true terror, not the kind that wraps around your bones, the kind that steals the breath from your lungs, the kind that makes it almost impossible to move."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 3.6k a.n. writing this fic has been a process of cutting myself open over and over again and i know it can hurt to read, but i appreciate those who have stuck with me, trusted the process, and said such lovely things. i remember every single comment that i receive, which sometimes is a curse, but most of the time is wonderful. there is a slight TW in this chapter for suicidal thoughts, very brief and not descriptive. ily, good luck <3

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[bijuutamer]

LINDA RONATADT SHARED MY ART ?????

Day 27 - Strawberries 🍓🍓

[sturniluvr]

your camera roll dating Pedro Pascal

[mssalo]

worship

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k

Part: 2

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.

It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.

But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.

You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”

Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”

Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.

After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.

After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.

You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.

You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.

With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”

You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.

“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.

“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”

It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.

Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”

Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.

You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.

“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”

The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.

His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.

He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.

“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.

“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.

“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”

His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.

You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.

“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”

Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.

“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”

His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.

The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.

And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.

“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.

He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…

Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.

The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.

But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.

“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”

The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”

You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”

Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.

Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.

And you weren’t ready for that.

· · ─────

The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.

Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.

When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.

You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.

He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.

“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.

“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.

The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.

Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.

“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.

As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.

“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.

The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.

“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.

You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.

“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.

Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.

But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.

“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.

Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.

As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.

“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”

The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.

What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?

You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.

Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”

The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.

Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.

Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.

Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.

There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.

But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.

This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.

Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.

“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.

Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.

“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.

Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.

“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”

Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.

Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."

You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.

“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”

“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”

His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."

With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.

He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.

"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.

"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.

“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”

Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.

“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”

He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.

“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”

Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.

“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”

Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.

“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.

“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”

His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.

“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”

Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.

Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.

“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.

“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”

He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”

With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.

He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.

“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”

You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”

With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.

“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.

“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.

He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.

“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.

“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”

Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”

He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”

Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.

“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”

Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.

“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.

His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.

“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”

You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.

His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.

“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”

His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.

Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.

“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”

A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.

"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"

“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.

“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”

His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.

“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”

The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”

You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”

“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”

With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.

You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.

His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.

Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”

His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.

“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.

You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.

And Joel knew it too.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.

As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.

The beginning of everything you’d been missing.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[manny-jacinto]

a message from Rahul Kohli 

[mdawgswizzleinthehizzle]

bella in the background 🥺😭

[critter-of-habit]

There's a WALL of them

[paigegonerogue]

I love how TLOU HBO uses colors…

Before Sarah dies the colors are a lot warmer, a lot “kinder”, almost

But when she dies, and it transitions to present day, the colors get colder. More stark.

But Ellie’s colors are warm

And you see that contrast…

…then you see their color schemes come together

[joelsrose]

My Masterlist!

hi lovelies, im still working on perfecting my masterlist but i thought i ought to have something on my blog for you guys xx

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Oneshots⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

No-outbreak!Joel Miller

Honeyed Heat

Howdy Cowboy

Spoiled

Drunk Confessions

Dating Jackson!Joel Miller

Grays & All

Good Night

Travelling with Outbreak!Joel Miller

Sweetheart

Dust & Devotion

Valentine’s Day

Polaroids

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚Series⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

Guns & Roses Masterlist (ongoing)

Good Neighbours (ongoing)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

First Date (mini-series) Part 1

First Date (mini-series) Part 2

First Date (mini-series) Part 3 (in progress)

[billy-crudup]

THE LAST OF US TV show 1.06 “Kin” | video game

[talaok]

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”