#look i just. i love joel. i love him. he's also getting so much angst from me constantly because OF COURSE HE IS

[creedslove]

BESTIEEE I know you’re probably not taking any request now but… since I’m a slut for angst… it came up in my mind reader and Joel being together, she wants kids, he doesn’t since he’s way older than her and already had Sarah so he’s not up to have another kid at his age and reader agreed with that for the sake of their relationship and because she just loves Joel so damn much so she’s willing to give up her desire of becoming a mom. But they’re like at a friend party or at the park and he sees her playing with some friend’s kids and her eyes just sparkle so Joel feels sad for taking away that from her and he gives her the talk “I love you but I need to let you go cause I just want your happiness so she can have kids with someone else and the end is up to you 🥹❤️❤️

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: hi bestie, I know it's been a few days since I got this ask, and even if I was focused on a certain cowboy, you can be sure this lovely idea hasn't left my mind because it's just so perfect and great, thank you for sharing 🤌

• when you'd traced plans in your life, you had always established some goals: study, get a nice job, travel, be happy, get married and have a family. That was pretty much all you wanted from life, since it seemed only fair you could have it all

• what you did not plan nor expect, was falling in love with a handsome, older and charming man; the heart wants what the heart wants and in your case, your heart (and let's be honest, your body and soul too) wanted Joel Miller, but who wouldn't want him?

• he was big, broad, handsome, strong, he had great hair, beautiful puppy brown eyes and we were only talking about his physical features, although he was much more than that: he was also smart, hardworking, responsible, he was a great dad and even if he seemed a little shy or like he kept to himself, he had so much love to give, and much to your luck, he wanted you as much as you wanted him

• so you simply clicked, despite Joel being older than you; it wasn't a deal breaker for you, it never was, because if by any means that became a problem, you wouldn't even start dating to begin with; although there were some generational conflicts that was quite amusing to see: Joel referred to TV shows, some movies or ads you'd never even heard of in your life, while he didn't get why you always thought those stupid silly videos on your phone were so funny. He didn't really get Taylor Swift - or he pretended he didn't - and you would absolutely fall asleep midway pretty much every movie he claimed he'd watched at the movies when he was a teen and it simply kicked ass

• bur nothing that came even close to being a problem. Sarah enjoyed that exchange, she knew her dad was a modern man, she also knew he looked good by the amount of women who would shamelessly swoon around him, but she always worried he would simply lock himself inside once she took off to live her own adventures, so she appreciated how much you loved and cared about him, making her happy to see how much her dad really loved and cared about you too

• you both had a great relationship, it was mature, sexy, full of understanding, passion and partnership, but Joel being an experienced man, knew it was important to put all the cards on the table before you two were in too deep to decide what was a deal breaker or not

• so you both talked openly about your plans and ambitions for the future, your no's and things like this, to decide beforehand if it was worthy

• you were on board with almost everything, with the exception of Joel being honest and clear about the fact he was older, he had already gone through the fatherhood experience - which had been quite traumatic even if Sarah was the thing he loved the most in his life - and that he didn't want to go through it again, which meant kids were definitely off the table

• you felt your heart shattering; you've always wanted to have kids, and not only that, you could see Joel being a perfect dad to your kids, because not only was he already an amazing father, but he had all the great qualities of a partner, and perhaps a future husband, and to make things worse, Joel did want all of those things with you, he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, to give you his name and a home, but not kids

• and even if he knew you wanted kids and you knew it too, you decided to suppress this side of you, because you loved him so much, you thought it was worth sacrificing your desire to have Joel in your life; maybe life would be easier and better if you just stayed with each other, you'd be happy, no doubt about it, and just hoped you wouldn't feel incomplete at everything else

• Joel wasn't insensitive though, he knew that decision took a toll on you, it was complicated and it pained him to think he was the reason why you still hadn't made your wish come true, but how could he get into something he didn't want to? If roles were reversed, it would be too unfair to ask you to have his child, so he tried telling himself he wasn't holding you back

• however, what was so hard was that in addition to knowing about your wish to be a mom, he could see how good you'd certainly be at it; the way little kids and babies immediately took a liking to you, often wanting to play and cuddle and the way you were always so caring and attentive towards them, it always brought a pang into his chest, it hurt to see you not having it because of him

• as much as he loved you and cherished your presence and relationship, that guilt started eating him up alive; he was getting more and more upset about it, the way you simply didn't complain or insist on it also made him upset and worried, he didn't know what to do, he got to the point where he felt tortured to see you interacting with little kids, because he could tell how much you wanted that reality for yourself but he was stopping you from it

• when you both were invited to one of his cousin's baby's first birthday, you immediately accepted the invitation. Joel thought about declining it, but then, what could he say? he had no excuses of any sorts to simply say no, so there was no way other than going and that was it

• he was sort of enjoying the party, having a beer with his relatives and having some treats when he spotted you around the kids: you were having so much fun, simply the life of the party, as the kids giggled and cheered around you, all happily and excitedly, and you wouldn't leave them at all

• Joel's heart shattered, he couldn't keep on doing that to you, it was too much, he loved you and if you love someone you gotta do your best to make them happy, and in that situation he was aware he wasn't doing everything at his power for that, so he swallowed hard, as he took a decision, it was a hard one, but it had to be done

• so once the party was over, you noticed Joel's sadden expression, even if you asked him what was going on, he didn't say it, he just shook it off and said it was work problems, not wanting to extend the subject, you just shrugged and didn't say anything else, leaving the tension home, sensing things weren't going to be easy

• so a couple of days after the party in which things weren't great, Joel finally took the courage to come forward and talk to you about things

"I love you, darling. I swear I do, with all my heart, but I know I'm not making you totally happy, not as happy as you can fully be. I can't stay here, preventing you from finding someone you will really be happy with, someone you will be able to build a life with. You deserve it, baby. I can't give it to you, but I can't see you suffering any longer"

• it broke your heart, you didn't want to break things up with Joel, you loved him, but you were honored to see how much he cared for you, it wasn't easy to recover and get things back on track, having to remodel your life after breaking up with Joel, getting used to being without him, but time heals all, you learned after a while

• Joel also had to relearn how to live his life without you; it was complicated but he loved you so, so he trusted his gut in letting you go, especially a couple of years later, when Sarah came over to visit him with her new boyfriend and handed him her phone: she'd found your Instagram and it showed you happily married to some guy named Marcus Pike, apparently he was an FBI agent, gentle and good-looking and extremely excited to announce he was going to be a dad for the first time ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dancing With Fire Part 6: Coming Home✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to get updated, but it’s finally here! I love this story so much, and it’s one of my favorites I have ever written. Let me know what you think 🩵

Chapter Summary: You go back home to Florida for the weekend to take a break from the chaos of the ballet company and to make a decision that might take everything you’ve worked so hard to get.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Tags: Flirting, angst, fluff, reader goes back home to Florida for the weekend, tough decisions, protective Joel, sweet Joel, no use Y/N, Joel comforts reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The week went by slowly as rain drenched the crowded streets of New York. You didn’t stay a minute at your apartment all week, you only stayed with Joel at his place. Where it was safe, where it felt right, where it felt like home. 

   Home. You were going home today. Back to Florida where you belonged. You missed the white sandy beaches, missed your parents, missed your own bed. But you’d be there in a few hours. Home was right around the corner. 

   As Joel drove you to the airport, you couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful features as you watched him flex his hand around the leather steering wheel. You watched as his soft brown eyes flicked back and forth between you and the damp road up ahead, watched as he took his hand and ran it in slow circles over your thigh, watched as he slowly brought your hand up to his plush lips as he gently kissed the back of your knuckles as warmth coated your insides with nothing but love. You could stay like this forever, watching him drive while you were in the passenger seat just being in his presence. That was enough to keep you smiling. 

   You were pulled from your deep thoughts as Joel stopped the truck in front of the large airport, parking under an awning as he turned the engine off. He pulled the key from the ignition and turned to you slowly, giving you a soft smile as he grazed your thigh one more time. 

   “You ready?” he asked as he looked at you with deep brown eyes. You nodded your head up and down and gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s go then, pretty girl.”

   He threw his seatbelt off and grabbed your pink rolling suitcase from the backseat as you climbed out of the truck and slammed the door shut, hurrying through the sliding doors before you got caught in the pouring rain. 

   Joel followed you through as he rolled your suitcase in and set it down next to you. “You got your boarding pass and your ID?” he asked as he watched you get them out of the pockets of your jeans, slipping them back in as he nodded an okay. “What about your iPhone charger? You got that?”

   You laughed as you pointed to your suitcase. “It’s right in there. Wanna ask me if I got anything else?” 

   “Nah, think you’re golden,” he said as he flashed you a dazzling smile. He was always so beautiful when he smiled. It always made the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his bright eyes and made his dimples display which you loved. 

   You stayed standing there a minute, scuffing your sneakers against the polished floors as you listened to overhead announcements about outgoing flights. Joel ran his hand through his tousled curls and took a step forward, his toes meeting yours. 

   “You ready?” he asked as you looked up into his calm brown eyes. 

   “Not really,” you said as you shook your head back and forth. The truth was, flights made you nervous, and you also weren’t ready to leave him. Even if it was just for two days. 

   “How come? Flights make you nervous?” 

   “Yeah, but that’s not all. I’m also… I’m also gonna miss you,” you said quietly as you furrowed your brows together, looking at the floor as if you could see your own reflection through the shine of the tiles. 

   “Oh, sweetheart.” He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and grazed his calloused fingers down your jawline, filling you with warmth the longer he did it. “You’ll be jus’ fine, darlin’. It’s jus’ two days,” he said encouragingly as he continued to gaze at you with big brown eyes, eyes you wanted to drown in. 

   “Two days is an awfully long time without you…” you sighed, eyes glistening as you felt a tear trying to escape the back of your eye. You wouldn’t let it. 

   It was only two days. What the fuck was wrong with you? Two days. But lately you’d been spending all your time with Joel, so even days apart seemed like weeks to you now. 

   “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he huffed as he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, tracing the edge as he concentrated on your pink lips, like he was studying every inch of them to burn into his memory. “I’m gonna miss ya too, sunshine.”

   With that, he pulled you into a tight hug as he threw his arms around you and you crashed against his broad chest, arms going around his back as you breathed in his fresh soap smell and of course his coffee scent.  

   “You be sure to text me as soon as you land, okay?” he said as he pulled back and entwined his fingers around yours as you squeezed his large hands. 

   “I will, I promise,” you nodded. 

   “Good. Jus’ try to relax a little this weekend, okay? Clear your mind. Have fun with your mother and get some sun,” he said as he trailed his thumb against the back of your hand in soothing circles, making your nerves lessen the more he did it.

   “I will, Joel. Promise.”

   He nodded and cupped your chin as he lifted your face to his and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, making your heart soar out the window. When he released his lips from yours, he glanced back into your eyes, studying you as he took in your dreamy stare. 

   “I wish I could take you with me. You don’t think you can fit in my suitcase, do you?” you teased as he squeezed your hand and chuckled lightly. 

   “I don’t think so, baby. Looks like you gotta go without me.”

   “Yeah, guess so…” you said back quietly, eyes gazing down at the white tiles as sadness started to fill the pit of your stomach. Joel must’ve noticed because he looked like he was trying to reassure you. 

   “Hey, you’re gonna be jus’ fine. The flight is gonna be smooth, and you’re gonna have the best time bein’ back home. So don’t you dare give me those sad eyes, I won’t allow it,” he replied as he lifted your chin to meet his deep eyes. 

   “Oh, you won’t allow it? Is that right?” you laughed, challenging him to the question. 

   “That’s right, sweetheart.”

   “So, what are you gonna do about it then?” you smirked, eyebrow raising as a small smile pulled at his lips. 

   “Gonna have to do this.” He cupped the back of your head and sank his lips down to yours as he caressed and gently nipped at your bottom lip, getting lost in the weight of his kiss. 

   You broke apart from him when you heard the overhead intercom say that Tampa was boarding in thirty minutes, meaning your time with Joel was up. 

   You looked up sadly as he gave you a crooked smile. “Guess you better go then. Gotta go catch your flight,” he said slowly as you nodded your head back. 

   “Yeah, I guess I should.”

   He stepped up and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as he slid his hands down your arms, his fingers curling around yours. “Well, guess I should let you go on. Don’t wanna miss your flight.”

   “No, don’t want that,” you answered back hesitantly.

   He grazed his knuckles against your jawline and took a step back as all the warmth left your body the further he stepped away from you. You felt hot tears lick the edges of your eyes, but you held them in. Be strong, be strong. 

   “Have a safe flight, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”

   You watched him take four steps closer to the sliding doors, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily against your chest. You didn’t want him to go, but he needed to. He needed to let you get to your flight. 

   Without thinking, you called out his name before he could take another step toward the door. “Joel?” 

   He turned back toward you slowly as he knitted his eyebrows together, his honey eyes finding yours. “Yeah?” he asked, waiting for some sort of question. You had none though, you just wanted to be in his arms. 

   You dropped the suitcase handle and ran to him, immediately throwing your arms around his back as you knocked into his broad chest, feeling his strong arms slowly circle around you as he breathed you in deeply. 

   “Haven’t even made it to the door yet, and you already miss me that much?” he chuckled as he placed another kiss to the top of your head gently. 

   “Mhm,” you hummed, not willing to let him go just yet. 

   “C’mon, sunshine. You’re gonna miss your flight. You’ll be fine,” he reassured you as you unhooked your arms from him and took one hesitant step back.

   “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” you laughed as you sighed once more, taking a good look at Joel as you memorized every golden brown fleck in his eyes and mapped out every single line on his face. 

   “Alright then, go on,” he instructed as he squeezed your hand once more and gently released, dropping his fingers from yours slowly. 

   “Bye, Joel,” you whispered as you turned, sighing at the aching feeling that was pulling hard in your gut. 

   Before you took another step, Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back again as he circled your hips and planted his lips firmly over yours. The kiss was passionate, desperate, a wildfire that was burning out of control, but you loved it. You loved him. It was smothering any doubts and anxiety that were flooding your crowded mind, always, every time his lips were slotting against yours. 

   When he finally released his lips from yours, he rested his forehead against yours, pressing his lips gently to your crown as he gave you one last kiss. “I love you, pretty girl,” he whispered, sending tingles down your spine as the words sounded like music to your ears. God, you loved him so much. 

   “I love you too, Joel. So much,” you breathed, pressing your forehead into his for just a few more seconds, letting all your worries fade away with his gentle touch. He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips across your knuckles, saying goodbye one last time before you had to leave. 

   “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in two days. Remember, text me as soon as you land,” he yelled as he started heading for the door. You waved goodbye and promised to text him as soon as you got into Tampa.

   You started heading for your gate and turned back around once more, taking one more good look at him. He turned around and smiled gently, pushing his curls away from his forehead as he turned to disappear through the sliding doors. You sighed as you lost sight of him and decided you needed to go. 

   As soon as you were through the gates, handing your ticket to the attendant and taking your window seat on board, you let your mind wander back to Joel. Maybe that would help calm your racing thoughts and nervous palpitations. 

   You took out your phone and slid your thumb across the unlock bar and pulled up your photo album. You clicked on the last picture and smiled as you took in you and Joel at the beach. Joel’s smile and indented dimple flashed across the screen while his strong arms were braced around your hips as he hugged you tightly to his chest. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at the picture, remembering the best beach date you’d ever had in your life. And it was all because of Joel, your sweet boyfriend, the man that had saved you from your own self. The man that reached his arm down through the raging hurricane when you were drowning and pulled you back to dry land. He was your savior, the one you were meant to find all along. 

   Once the plane started to take off, you relaxed into the back of the leather seat and closed your eyes. The pilot’s voice echoed around the plane, but you couldn’t hear him. All you could hear and see was Joel’s bravado voice and his sweet smile. Everything was peaceful, safe, still as you took off and faded into a deep sleep.

   

When you stepped out of the Tampa airport, the Florida humidity hit you with a welcome home hot breeze. The shiny sweat from the muggy air stuck to your forehead, and you knew you were home. You let the blazing sun shine down on you as you tipped your head back and welcomed the warmth on your New York pale skin. You could use the sunshine after being in the cold and stuck inside a theater all day. 

   The familiar silver SUV came to a complete stop in front of the Southwest Airlines sign and that small tug in your gut seemed to alert you that this was it. You were truly home. Your mom scrambled out of the car with her floral tank top and favorite Jean capris she always wore when she was lounging at home. The sight seemed to blanket you in comfort as she walked behind the car and up to the cement block where you were. 

   Her face lightened up as she smiled brightly and sighed out in relief. “Honey?” 

   “Mom!” You ran over and wrapped your arms around her back as you felt warmth consume your body. All the pent up frustration, sadness, anxiety, tiredness, and emotions flooded you all at once, and tears started spilling out of your eyes as she embraced your body. 

   “Mom, I missed you so much,” you cried into her shoulder, shedding all the tears on her floral tank top as she ran a hand gently down the back of your hair. 

   “Oh, sweetie. I missed you more. My poor baby,” she said as she wiped the free falling tears from your face. “Come on now. Let’s get you home. I’ve got some dinner ready for us. Let’s just get you settled, okay?”

   You nodded as she grabbed your luggage and hauled it into the backseat. You took your place in the passenger seat as you shifted into the leather and buckled the seatbelt over your shoulder. When she was situated in the driver’s seat, you watched her start the car up as the engine rumbled to life, and then she was pulling out on the busy streets of Tampa. 

   “So, how was the flight?” she asked as she got over into the left hand lane. 

   “It was fine. I mostly slept, so it was a smooth flight.”

   “Good, that’s good. I’m glad you made it safe, sweetie.”

   “Me too.”

   The rest of the ride was quiet as you focused on the passing palm trees that towered in the sky and on the blue, clear skies that filled the open air. Your mind started to go still as you saw the lapping ocean waves in the distance. Warm, gentle waves crashing against the shoreline as you got closer to home. 

   The silhouette of the shimmering water brought you back to Joel. To your first real date with him, when he held you in his strong arms on the warm sand, the way he kissed you like no one else did in your entire life, the way he made you feel everything so deeply, the way he said he loved you the other night. Suddenly you remembered you needed to text Joel. 

   You pulled the iPhone quickly out of your pocket and pulled up his name as it shone brightly on the lit up screen, and then you typed out the message. 

   You: Made it safely. Almost back to my house now. 

   Joel texted back a couple minutes later. 

   Joel: Glad you made it safely, sunshine. The flight was alright I assume?

   You: It was pretty smooth. I fell asleep for most of it. You know what helped me?

   Joel: What?

   You: Thinking of you :) 

   Joel: Ahh stop. Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me blush. 

   You: Did I succeed, handsome? ;) 

   Joel: You sure did, sunshine. What am I gonna do with you? 

   You: I bet you’ll think of something.

   Joel: Alright, alright. Just calm down or I’m gonna have to fly down there myself.

   You: I dare you ;) 

   Joel: Haha alright you little flirt. Go enjoy the sun and sand for me. I’ll see you in two days. 

   You: Miss you. 

   Joel: I miss ya more, sweetheart. Just two days. Then I can see my girl again. Alright now, go on. I’ll talk to you before bed. 

   You sent him one last text with a pink heart and shoved the phone back in the pocket of your jeans with a stupid grin plastered all over your face. Joel Miller was going to be the death of you. 

   “And just who were you texting? Hmm?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked over at you from the front seat. 

   “Oh, it was no one,” you smiled as you looked out the window to your warm, muggy beach paradise. 

   “Mhm, sure,” she laughed as she turned the car down a small block that would take you back home. You’d eventually tell her about Joel, but right now you wanted to keep him your little secret. If only just for a few more minutes. 

   When you pulled into the long driveway, the house was as still as it was the moment you left for New York. Large, cascading glass windows covered the sides of the white house. Whimsical wind chimes that you placed on the front porch floated effortlessly in the soft breeze of Florida. It’s like you never even left. 

   As you walked into the house, it was all the same layout. Tan leather couches splayed across the living room with the dark blue seashell rug covering the hardwood floors, the white drapes softly blowing through the open windows as salty ocean scents covered the entire house, the open kitchen with marble counters and high ceilings that you always loved sat untouched. The light blue walls with family pictures sprawled across horizontally hung bright in the sun as the widescreen tv hummed softly with low noises from the Discovery channel. This was home. You were home, finally. 

   “It’s just how I remembered it,” you sighed as the feeling of peace washed over you. For the moment, that’s all you felt. No anxious thoughts, no panic attacks, just the warm feeling of being home. Away from racing thoughts that filled your head with turbulence and loud noises. All that was gone for the moment. 

   “Nothing’s changed much since you left for New York. Same with your room. It’s just as you left it,” your mom smiled at you as you passed her up with your rolling suitcase. “I’ll let you get settled, and dinner will be ready whenever you are.”

   You made your way to your room, the last door to the right of the long, lit up hallway. The one right next to the huge glass window that overlooked the ocean which was basically just a couple blocks from your house. 

   As you turned into your open room, you took in everything as it was before. A large glass window that was covered with light purple drapes, a queen sized bed with the same fluffy white blanket sitting draped across the pressed sheets. The fairy lights hung neatly around the edges of the walls, your little bathroom still had the same seashell mat and tropical fish stickers sprawled across the mirror, your walk-in closet still had the piles of neatly hung summer dresses that you had left for keepsakes back home. It was all how you left it, and somehow that filled a hollow hole inside you that you had been missing. 

   Home. It was so good to be home. 

   

Dinner was quiet except for the small talk about things you’d missed in Florida like your dad, the neighbors across the street, the new boat your parents had bought. It made you miss home even more, but now your home was in New York, at the dance company, in that tiny, blue apartment you so desperately loved to escape from. 

   And then it was silent, only the scraping of metal forks against glass dishes and mouthfuls of meatballs and spaghetti. It was all good until your mom spoke those awful words you’d been trying to get around for as long as possible. 

   She set her glass of sparkling water down and stared at you with concerned eyes. “So, sweetie. About New York. You’ve been having a pretty rough time, haven’t you?”

   You sighed and dropped your fork against the fine china as the clinking metal made you jump. “Yeah, mom. It’s been rough for some time now.”

   “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

   “Because I didn’t want to worry you. I had it under control,” you lied. You definitely did not have it under control. In fact, the whole theater was on fire at this point. 

   “Oh, sweetie. I always worry about you, especially in a big state like New York.”

   You picked up the metal fork again and twirled it around some noodles caked in red sauce. You completely lost your appetite, but you needed to find something to distract your racing thoughts. 

   “Well, talk to me, honey. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened,” she insisted as she stared at you with wide eyes. 

   You nodded and looked up sheepishly as you started from the beginning. You told her about how hard Carlotta was on you, how Pierre basically threatened you day after day, how bitchy Cecilia and her little friends were, how absolutely overworked and overwhelmed you’d been for months. And it just got worse as time went on. Nothing but a ball of stress until he showed up and saved you. Joel. Your knight in shining armor. Your everything. 

   “Oh, hun. I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all that,” your mom emphasized as she reached out and put a hand over yours. “And you tried talking to Carlotta? Are there higher ups you can go to? Gosh, I need to go up there and talk to her myself and-”

   “Mom. It’s okay. We - I mean I’ve got it under control, as much as I can. I’m dealing with it.” You stabbed a piece of seasoned broccoli as you looked hard at your plate, hoping you could somehow get out of talking about anymore of this mess. 

   “Isn’t your first big show next weekend?” she asked softly as her brows knit together in concern.

   “Mhm,” you huffed as you set your fork down and leaned back into the wooden chair. 

   “What are you going to do, sweetie? Are you really going to go through with it? After everything you’ve already been through?” she asked sadly as her eyes bore into yours. 

   “I… I don’t know, mom. If I don’t, my chances of ever dancing again for a big company are over. I’ve worked my entire life for this. I don’t want to just throw that away and…”

   She placed a hand softly on your wrist as you looked up with tears licking the corners of your eyes. “Honey. I know this is a tough decision, but you can’t keep dragging yourself through the mud. There’s only so much you can take until it eats you alive. I don’t want you to do this if you’re just torturing yourself.”

   You bit your tongue and felt the tinge of blood run down the back of your throat, feeling your insides lock up as you nodded your head and held back tears. “I know. I just… need to think.”

   “Sweetie…” She put her hand gently over yours and turned you to where you were facing her. “I know you’ve worked your whole life for this. I know you love dancing, and I know how good you are at it. I want to see you up on that New York stage more than anyone else, but not at the cost of my daughter.”

   You took in the weight of her words, eyes bright with held back tears as you nodded in her direction. She placed a hand gently on the side of your face and started again. “You know, you could always move back to Florida. I’m sure there’s…”

   “No!” Her eyes went wide as your sharp yell echoed across the open kitchen. Your heart sped up at the thought of leaving New York. You couldn’t leave. Not without Joel. 

   “No? Sweetie, why the urgency?”

   “I…” You tried to hold back, but it was no use. You’d have to tell her about Joel at some point, so why not now? “I… I met someone.”

   She sat up straighter in her kitchen chair with her eyes wide, mouth parted open as a small smile crept up to her pink lips. “Met someone? Tell me everything! What’s his name, what’s he like?” she asked excitedly as she nearly bounced right out of her chair with her plate of spaghetti surely to follow after her. 

   You leaned against the sleek table and propped one elbow up as you leaned your chin against your flexed knuckle. “His name’s Joel. He’s tall, has these big, beautiful brown doe eyes you can just get lost in. He’s so sweet and charming and protective and handsome. And he’s… he’s, well… perfect.”

   Your mom watched you carefully, watching the way your eyes glowed when you talked about him, watching the way your body seemed to melt into itself as you said his name again, repeating it like a dreamy song you could get lost in. 

   “Ahh. I know that look, sweetie. You’re in love, aren’t you?” she teased as she grabbed your hand and squeezed firmly, smiling her pearly whites to you as her feet shifted up and down. 

   “How do you know?” you asked as you raised your eyebrows in question. 

   “Hun, I’ve been there before. I know what falling in love feels like, and it’s that face right there that you’re making. And that smile, that warm smile. And the way you talk about him? My goodness. I’ve never seen that look on you before. You’re positively glowing.”

   You giggled out as you could feel your face turn bright pink. “Yeah, mom. I do love him, a lot.”

   “Well, I’m so happy for you, sweetie. He better treat you good. And I want to meet this man, next time I’m in New York. Is that understood?” she laughed as she pulled you in for a quick hug. 

   “Okay, mom. Of course you can meet him.”

   “Perfect.” She pushed back and kept her hands in yours for just a second longer. “I’m so glad you came home, sweetie.”

   “Me too, mom. Me too.” You finished off dinner and talked to your mom more about Joel, telling her how he was older and had a daughter, which she took well. 

   After a few hours of catching up, you got ready for bed and practically threw yourself into the warm, silky sheets. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you needed to text Joel goodnight. You slid the phone from your mahogany nightstand and typed his name out as you started making a cute little goodnight text for Joel. 

   You: Hope you’re enjoying your night, handsome.

   It didn’t take long for your phone to vibrate against your silk sheets as you brought it back up to your face. 

   Joel: Not as much as I’d be enjoying it if you were here, gorgeous. 

   You giggled out as you sent another text. 

   You: Think so? 

   Joel: I know so. 

   You brought the fluffy blanket up to your chin and bit your bottom lip as you thought of dreamy brown eyes and thick arms. 

   You: Well, I’ll be home in no time. Just a couple days, right?

   Joel: Home. You mean with me?

   Your breath hitched at the question. Was he asking if home was with him? You tapped your fingers against the side of the iPhone and sent a response. 

   You: I mean…

   Joel: Use your words, sweetheart. Did you mean with me? In my house? 

   In his house… you really wanted that. You felt that. Like he was home, like maybe his home was also now yours. It practically was but… 

   You: Joel, you… you feel like home. You are home. 

   You watched the bubbles slowly go back and forth against the bottom of the screen as you waited and waited and waited, until finally you got a response back. 

   Joel: Sweetheart, there’s nothing more I want than to have you in my arms, in my house. You feel like home, too. 

   You threw your head back against the fluffy pillow and smiled brightly, your lips hurting from how massive your smile was. You could feel your toes curl and your cheeks burn as you read his message over and over and over again. It’d never get old, you’d print the text out and carve it into your heart so it’d always be with you. Home. He was home.

   You said your goodnights to each other and then rolled over to look out your window, hearing the faint noise of rolling waves and the sea breeze tapping against the glass. You closed your eyes and gently got pulled under the waves as sleep took you fast, but you dreamed of deep brown eyes and broad shoulders that night. And that itself made you sleep that much better. 

   

You ended up sleeping in till 10:00 am, welcomed with the warmth of the glowing sunshine against your window pane as you awoke to the smell of fresh bacon and eggs. You quickly slipped out of bed and found your pink fuzzy slippers as you exited your room. 

   When you entered into the open kitchen, the humid breeze blew in from the open glass windows as your mom used the spatula to mix up the scrambled eggs. “Good morning, sweetie! How’d you sleep?”

   “Actually, great. It was really nice to sleep in my actual bed again.” You grabbed a piece of crispy bacon and popped a piece into your mouth as you let the savory flavor slide down your throat. 

   “I’m so glad to hear it. So, what’s your plans for the day? I was thinking maybe we could go grab lunch and go shopping.” You watched her flip her flowing hair over her shoulder as she smiled your way. 

   “Yeah, I’d like that. But I think this morning I’m just gonna go take a walk on the beach. Clear my head a little,” you murmured through a piece of crispy bacon. 

   She came around the slab of the marble countertop and rested a hand on your shoulder as she brought you in for a big hug. “I think that’s a great idea. Nothing better to clear your head than a walk on the beach.”

   After she went back to finishing breakfast, the two of you talked more about New York, about the ballet, about your choices. None of it was fun, but you guessed it was good to get it off your chest. Now you just had to make that hard decision. The one you didn’t want to make. 

   When breakfast was over and after you helped clean the dishes, you got ready for the day and threw on a pair of denim shorts and a pink tank top and decided to head down to the beach. It was only a five minute walk, not far at all. When you stepped outside, you smelled the salt water blow through your hair, felt the humid air you were so used to living with in Florida, and the sunshine bathed your pale skin in some much needed Vitamin D your body had been begging for. 

   As soon as your bare feet hit the soft sand, you felt as if you were home. This was your favorite thing. The white sand, the smell of saltwater, the sounds of crashing waves, the sights of soaring seagulls and pelicans. This is what you had been missing, the ocean, Florida, home.

   You found a smooth pile of soft sand and plopped down as you dug your heels into the warm, white surface. You closed your eyes and breathed in deep, trying not to dwell on the fact that you were so close to show time, the final stretch for the next few months. Could you do it? Could you bear the fact that you’d have to dance next to Pierre and Cecilia, while taking strict orders from Carlotta? Was it worth it? Worth your sanity?

   You covered your feet under the warm grains of sand, wishing you could slowly sink and become the grainy flecks of sand, wishing you didn’t have to worry about the theater, about your overbearing peers, about anything related to dancing. You just wanted to float off into the distance, let the lapping waves carry you away to a place where you didn’t have to think at all, where you could just exist and be yourself, whoever that may be now. You kind of got lost in the chaos of it all, in the darkness and in your own drowning mind. You just wished all the screaming voices in your head would just stop, that every scrap of doubt would disappear, leave you alone for just a minute, a second, really. But that was too much to ask. The only person that could take all the panic and chaos away was Joel. Your guiding light, your lover…

   You took the next few minutes trying to unthread the jumbled thoughts in the mess of your head, trying to figure out just what you wanted, what you were willing to do. You loved dancing, you truly did, but there was that nagging voice in your head, the one that said it was too much, too mind bending, too fucked. And maybe you didn’t want to continue on, maybe you’d just give up on all your hopes and dreams because they weren’t yours anymore. At least not in that theater with those people. Maybe you just needed to…

   Suddenly, your phone started buzzing in the pocket of your denim jeans and when you went to retrieve it, it was Joel’s name that lit up across the phone screen. You eagerly answered and held the phone up to your ear as you took a deep breath and kept your voice steady. “Hey, handsome,” you answered as a small smile curled against the gloss of your lips. 

   “Hi, sweetheart. How’s Florida treatin’ ya?” His voice was warm, calm, deep as you took in his Southern drawl, wishing you could feel it blowing down the back of your neck right at this very second. 

   “It’s good. Currently just sitting at the beach, basking up the sun,” you smiled as you heard him chuckle. 

   “Better than the New York beaches, hmm?” he asked as you could practically see his brows furrow up with that smug smirk you so loved to kiss. 

   “Mmm nothing beats the white sandy beaches here. Except maybe you,” you giggled as you heard that warm breath blow through the end of the line. God, you wished he could hold you right now. 

   “Is that so, sunshine?” he chuckled through the phone. 

   “Yes,” you smiled as you drew a little heart with your index finger through the soft white sand. 

   “Such a sweet girl,” he drawled as you brought your knees to your chest and smiled dreamily as you stared out into the blue sea. 

   “So, I might’ve mentioned you to my mom last night at dinner,” you said nervously as you awaited his answer. 

   “Oh, is that right?”

   “Mhm. You know, she wants to meet you.”

   “Well, how ‘bout that? Think we’ll jus’ have to see that through then.”

   “Yeah?” you asked with a hitch of your breath. 

   “Yeah, we’ll make it happen.”

   “Okay,” you smiled as the sun warmed your skin. 

   He took a minute before he said anything else, and you knew it was coming. The question you came here to decide, if you wanted to continue on or not. You felt your stomach drop as if you were anchored down to the ocean floor, chained in darkness with no way to escape. You felt it then. The nerves pulling through you, that impending doom feeling you’d felt so often at the ballet company. It was here. You had to decide what you wanted. 

   “Did you decide yet? What you wanna do?” His voice was careful as he spoke the words, like he was walking on broken glass. 

   You sunk your feet further into the warm sand, your eyes staring out on the blue horizon as you brought your knees further into your chest. This was it. The final decision. You knew what you had to do. You knew. You were just too afraid to say it out loud because that’d make it real. 

   “I… I…” 

   “It’s finished.”

   “What?” Your breath hitched as you gasped out. What was finished? 

   “The video. It got sent to Carlotta.”

   Your eyes went wide as his words. He did it? He really did it? “What do you mean you sent it?”

   He took a breath and spoke. “I went to the theater this morning and talked with one of the security guys. He was able to pull up the footage of Pierre well… slapping you and pushing you down.” You winced at the reminder of that awful day, but gulped down any tears that might’ve spilled and let him continue. 

   “He has a list of phone numbers and was able to get Carlotta’s. So he was able to send her the video. It’s done, sunshine. That’s proof enough. I don’t think he’s gonna be able to stay in the ballet. Come Monday, if she saw it, he may very well be kicked out of the show.”

   You gasped out as you looked out toward the shiny blue ocean, releasing all the terror and anxieties of before. Joel did it. Joel really was your knight in shining armor. “Joel…”

   “I had to do somethin’. I couldn’t just stand and watch you suffer anymore. I had to do this, baby. No one is gonna mess with my girl as long as I’m around. Nobody.”

   “I… Joel, thank you. I don’t know what to say, I’m speechless. I…”

   “It’s okay, baby girl. You don’t gotta say anythin’. Jus’ know I’m always watchin’ out for you. Always, my love.”

   Always. My love. 

   “So, what’s it gonna be, sunshine?”

   You furrowed your eyebrows and looked hard out on the horizon, mustering up any and all courage you could. You let out a long sigh before you said anything else. So what were you going to do? You didn’t know. You didn’t know. 

   “I… don’t know.”

Tags: @burntheedges @jasminedragoon @littlevenicebitch69 @joelalorian @tuquoquebrute @akah565 @dugiioh @amyispxnk @blueseastorm @pedrostories @keylimebeag @msjarvis

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #joel miller fanfiction #soft joel miller #joel miller au #dancing with fire #ballet au #joel miller angst #joel miller comfort #joel miller pedro pascal

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 1. the beginning

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A head injury on patrol causes you to lose your memories of the outbreak and the people you have grown to know and love over the last ten years.

Chapter Warnings: language, descriptions of blood and wounds, vomiting, angst, amnesia

WC: 7.6K

A/N: I shortened the timeline a bit - all of the events from the first game have happened, but this takes place ten years after the outbreak instead of twenty.

Series Masterlist

Pain.

That was all you could recognize at first. The back of your head throbbed so badly, you couldn't even open your eyes. There were sounds, but they were unidentifiable through the searing, red hot pain radiating across the back of your skull. Tenderly, you reached your hand back to press against the source. You recoiled instantly, the pain too much to bear. A thick and sticky wetness coated your fingers.

Then you smelled it.

The smell of metal. Coppery, familiar. Then... did you smell fireworks? Was it the Fourth of July? A few years back, your older brother was messing around with fireworks and nearly blew off his hand, ending the night in the emergency room. Your parents never let him forget it. Is that what happened? Did he make some stupid bet with you? A game of chicken wasn't out of the realm of possibility. He always brought out your competitive side.

You forced your eyes open just a crack, the sun immediately causing you to close them again. It was too bright and your brain was vibrating like it was trying to escape from the confines of your skull.

You were outside. It wasn't dark, fireworks wouldn't make sense. What was going on?

Then you heard your name. Someone shouting it, over and over, panic stricken.

You tried to hold up your hand, wave them off, tell them to stop being so loud, but you could barely lift your hand before the nausea hit. Unable to stop yourself, you rolled onto your side, your head screaming and punishing you for the sudden movement as you heaved, emptying the contents of your stomach into the grass. The force of it made your head hurt even more, if that was even possible.

The smell of acid mixed with the smell of metal, now.

Maybe you were dying.

Someone's hands were on your shoulders, pushing you onto your back, yelling your name over and over.

"Stop," you pleaded weakly, tears springing into your eyes. The pain was too much.

"Jesse! Get her water!"

You groaned and covered your face with your palms. The sunlight was so fucking bright that you could even see it through your eyelids, a red glow everywhere you looked. You needed darkness. You needed quiet.

"Here, drink," you heard a man's voice say, then the hard plastic pressed against your lower lip. You whimpered and tried to pull away, the thought of anything in your stomach making you feel sick again.

"Shit, Joel's gonna fucking freak," you heard another male voice say from behind your head.

Against your better judgement, you forced your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you locked eyes with the first person you saw. A man with dark, curly hair that went past his ears, with patchy facial hair and soft, brown eyes. Your eyes drifted down to his dirty, denim jacket, and then you saw his hands. Fear shot through you when you saw the drying blood, fist still clutching a gun, and as you tried to scramble away, you bumped into someone behind you, causing you to panic.

Why were they surrounding you? Who were these people? It wasn't fireworks, it was gunpowder.

"Get the fuck away from me!" you screeched, but the dark haired man inched forward, his free hand reaching out to you, telling you to calm down, it's okay, sugar, but you continued to crawl backwards, ignoring the pain throbbing behind your eyes. What did these people do to you?

"Whoa, it's alright," the other man said. A younger man, also darker hair, but shorter.

Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, panic seizing you from head to toe. Your eyes flicked around the forest, the huge tree trunks making it impossible to figure out where you were.

"W-where am I? Where's my mom?"

The man holding the gun frowned and exchanged concerned glances with the other man.

"She's gone," he said gently, as if it were obvious. A strangled noise got caught in the back of your throat when you looked at the man's gun again.

"What did you do to her?" you asked, voice wavering. The man's eyes dropped to the gun in his hand and he quickly holstered it.

"I didn't do anythin' to her, sugar," he said, and again looked at the younger man before continuing. "She died the first day."

"What?" you asked, lip trembling. What the fuck was going on?!

"First day of what?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, and you could see the worry in his face. His eyes wide and his hand a little shaky.

"No, I don't fucking remember! What the fuck are you trying to pull?" you exclaimed, your voice rising the angrier you got.

"Sugar, do you know who I am?" he asked, sneakily taking the handgun that laid abandoned by your side in the dirt and tucking it into the back of his pants.

"No," you spat, then winced and clutched the back of your head again. When you pulled your hand back, you saw fresh blood coating your fingers. Your heart began slamming in your chest and you were finding it difficult to bring in enough air to keep you level.

"Jesse, get a rag," the man ordered. Jesse jumped up and jogged over to a backpack discarded on the ground. Old, worn, faded, with splashes of blood.

Then you saw the bodies.

Well, you supposed they could be considered bodies, but they didn't look like people. Not anymore. Their skin was sagging and grey. Clothes, torn and dirty. Mangy hair ripped out in handfuls at the scalp. Their mouths were agape, revealing yellowed teeth and stinking of rot.

"What the fuck?" you whispered as your vision narrowed. You faintly realized Jesse was pressing a rag against the back of your head, trying to stop the bleeding and had you not been so scared and confused, you might have shoved him away.

"Tommy, what do we do?" Jesse asked, and you could hear the fear in his voice now. His hand shook against your shoulder as he tried to keep you still.

"We gotta get her back home, have Nick take a look at her," he said, and you looked back and forth between them, flabbergasted. Talking about you as if you weren't right there.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," you told them. You tried to stand up, but fell to your knees. Tommy knelt down next to you, his arm circling around your shoulders, but you shrugged him off.

"C'mon, sugar. We ain't gonna hurt you, you just hit your head and you need to see a doctor," Tommy said. "Jesse, grab me my first aid kit."

"I gotta go home," you mumbled, and forced yourself to stand again. You couldn't see straight. Everything around you was spinning even though you were fairly certain you were standing still. "I need to see my dad... my brother."

"Shit," you heard Jesse mutter under his breath as he hustled over with a small, leather bag.

"Okay, why don't we take you to a doctor first, then we can talk about your family, alright?" Tommy asked gently. "I'm just gonna patch you up til we get back," he added, reaching into the bag for some medical tape. You watched as Tommy instructed Jesse to hold the rag against your head while he ran the medical tape around, holding the cloth in place.

You didn't have much choice. As you looked around, you were becoming more and more aware you had absolutely no idea where you were or what was happening. You definitely weren't home. There weren't trees like this back home.

So, begrudgingly, you agreed to follow them. Tommy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled, a sharp, piercing noise that made you wince. You were confused until you heard the soft pattering of hooves approaching, and through the trees, three tacked up horses emerged. A pale yellow one slowed and stopped a few feet away from you, snorting loudly and stomping its foot. You watched as Tommy and Jesse grabbed their backpacks and mounted their horses. Then Tommy seemed to realize the problem and quickly slid back down to the ground.

"I'll give you a boost," he said, crouching next to the yellow horse and lacing his fingers together. Slowly, you walked forward, eyeing the horse wearily before gripping the saddle and stepping one foot into Tommy's hands. He hoisted you up as you tossed your leg over the side of the horse and you bent forward, momentarily burying your face in its mane while you tried to stop the world from spinning. Fuck, your head was going to explode.

You followed Tommy's horse while Jesse took up the rear, all of you maneuvering around the rotting corpses littering the ground.

"What is this?" you asked, utterly confused. "Did I faint when we found a bunch of dead bodies or something? We have to go to the police," you told them, panic rising once again.

"We will," Tommy said, and you took a deep breath. Okay, things were making sense. You hit your head. Maybe you fell off your horse and knocked yourself out. You don't remember meeting these men before, but they seemed to know you, and they didn't appear to be threatening. If they were, they wouldn't give you your own horse, right?

"How far away are we from your home?" you asked after about ten minutes.

"Not far. Maybe another half hour or so. You holdin' up okay?" Tommy asked, twisting around in his saddle to look at you, his eyes briefly glancing over your shoulder at Jesse.

"Yeah, I think so. My head really hurts, though," you said, blinking slowly. "Do you have a farm or a ranch or something?"

"A what?" Tommy asked, confused until he looked down at the horses. "Oh, right. No, but we do got a barn."

"Oh, okay," you said uncertainly. You looked around at the trees as your horse obediently followed Tommy's. It was so quiet. You must have been deep into the woods because you couldn't hear any road noise at all. Looking up, you didn't even see or hear any planes. You had never known quiet like this before. It was almost... peaceful.

You looked back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Jesse, who gave you a nervous smile.

"Is he your dad?" you asked, and Jesse snorted.

"No," he chuckled, then cleared his throat and wiped the smile off his face, becoming serious again. "No, Tommy's just my friend. Our friend," he added, and you slowly nodded before turning back around.

You loosely held the reins in your hands as you made your way through the forest, the only sounds coming from your horses and the birds singing in the branches above your heads. When you crossed a small stream, Tommy called over his shoulder not much further now.

At the end of the forest was a clearing. You could see it already. A huge gate and reinforced walls surrounding what you assumed was home to these men, but it looked like a fortress in the middle of nowhere. There were even guards with guns strolling along the top of the fences.

This didn't seem right.

"Stop," you told your horse, but of course it kept walking.

"Stop!" you shouted, and it pinned its ears back. You looked up at Tommy, who had now turned around in his saddle.

"How - I don't know what I'm doing, tell it to stop! I want to stop!" you told him as the panic rose from your chest and squeezed your throat.

"Pull on the reins," Tommy said, and you quickly tugged them, making the horse come to a sudden halt.

"Where are we? What is this?" you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him. By now you had made it just outside the gates, and the guards on top were looking at Tommy questioningly.

"This is Jackson," Tommy said calmly, then slid down from his horse to approach you. "This is where we live. We got a doctor here who can take a look at that head wound."

"Why don't you live in a normal house? A normal town? I don't understand," you said, and the tears began to well up in your eyes. You were so frustrated and everything was so confusing and all you wanted to do was go to bed and forget this ever happened.

"I'll explain everythin', I promise, but first we gotta get you to the doc, alright?" he asked as your tears began to fall. Tommy glanced up at the top of the fence and nodded. You watched as a handful of men began to crank open the gate, revealing the beginnings of a quaint -looking town.

"Can you get down? Go slow, I'll catch you if you fall," he said, and when you looked into his eyes, you could see affection there. You did as you were told. Swinging one leg over, you slowly and carefully lowered yourself to the ground, Tommy's hands reassuringly hovering above your shoulders until you were standing on your own two feet.

"Are we... together?" you asked him.

Tommy and Jesse both laughed heartily and then he quickly shook his head.

"No, sugar," he said, a smile still etched across his face. He looked over at the open gate and his smile slowly began to fade. "But we oughta get you to the doc right away."

You sat on the edge of an exam table, head tilted down, chin against your chest as the doctor Tommy introduced as Nick stitched up the laceration on your scalp. He had numbed the area pretty good with something from a very large needle that sent you spiraling into a frenzy until Nick and Tommy managed to calm you down and convinced you they were not in fact trying to drug you and sell you into sex trafficking, like you had accused them of trying to do.

Once the doctor started to work on your injury, Tommy excused himself, mumbling something about needing to talk to someone and that he would be back as soon as possible.

Nick said he had to cut away some of your hair, that you would have a small bald spot for a while, but the rest of your hair would be able to hide it effectively.

After he took care of the cut, he began to examine you further. He flashed a bright light into your eyes, making you wince and recoil. He asked you strange questions that you were confident you didn't answer correctly based on the expression on his face.

"Cordy- what?"

"Cordyceps," he repeated.

"No, I have no idea what that is. Is it a band?" you guessed, and he shook his head.

"Well, you certainly have a concussion, and I'm afraid you have some memory loss," he said, sitting down on the small stool across from you.

"How much is 'some'?"

"Uh, difficult to say, but ten years? Give or take?" he said, and you balked.

"Ten years?!"

He nodded.

"I'm afraid so. Can you tell me the last day you do remember?"

"Well," you began, relaxing your shoulders as you thought. "I remember it was fall, but it was still hot out. I had a long day at work - I'm a banker," you told Nick, and he nodded. "My feet were killing me, I had barely sat down all day. It was family dinner night at my parents' house. Me and my brother go over there every Friday. My dad made ribs out on the grill so he wouldn't heat up the house with the oven. My mom was wearing this new, green dress that I thought looked hideous but I lied and told her it was cute. And my brother was telling us about a girl he had met the weekend before."

Nick looked at you to continue, but when it became clear you were done, he sighed.

"That's the last day you remember?"

"Yeah," you said slowly, finally picking up on the concerned look he was giving you. "Was that really ten years ago?" you asked, softly this time. Nick pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and nodded.

"Oh my god," you breathed, looking around the sparse, run down room. What happened in ten years to make the world look like this? You were about to ask when you heard shouting coming from the lobby of the infirmary.

Nick jumped up and opened the door, then turned back to you.

"I'll be right back," he said, then shut the door quickly behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs lightly swinging as you tried to piece together what you knew.

Ten years.

Ten whole years, just... gone.

What memories did you make in that time? Your mom is dead, but what about the rest of your family? Is there anybody in this town that you might actually remember? You looked down at your body. You thought you looked the same, maybe a little thinner, but otherwise the same. Did you ever get married? Have kids?

The shouting got louder and pulled you out of your reverie. It was a man's voice, and it was growing closer. He sounded angry. Livid, even.

You could now hear him opening up the other exam room doors and calling your name, ignoring the voices of Tommy and Nick urging him to stop, and a jolt of fear shot through you. Glancing around the room, you looked for something, anything that might protect you or reinforce the door, but it was too late.

The door swung open and you jumped off the table. If this man was going to hurt you, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

He paused in the doorway, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you silently while you did the same. He was tall. Broad shoulders strained underneath a black T-shirt. A blue flannel was clutched in his fist. You could see his muscles twitching under his tanned skin, and when your gaze finally met his, you felt something else other than fear. Something you couldn't quite identify. You knew this man, but you didn't know how.

His hair was dark and had loose curls, similar to Tommy's but shorter and a little lighter. The beard surrounding plush looking lips had a dusting of white at the corners of his jaw, but it was his eyes that drew your attention the most. A deep, beautiful brown that told a whole story in just one moment.

Nick and Tommy stood behind the strange man, looking back and forth between the two of you. Dragging your gaze off of him, you looked at Tommy, hoping he would explain.

Then the man said your name softly and your eyes flicked back to him.

"What?" you finally said with an edge to your voice, growing annoyed with how nobody felt compelled to say anything. They just kept looking at you, waiting for you to acknowledge him as if you'd known him your whole life.

"You remember Joel. Right, sugar?" Tommy asked, and your eyes drifted back to him. All three men stared at you, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Slowly, you shook your head, and Joel's face fell.

"Is it permanent?" Joel asked, turning to Nick.

Nick paused, his mouth opening and closing as he considered his answer before clearing his throat.

"It's too soon to say-"

"The fuck d'you mean?!" Joel roared, grabbing Nick by his collar and shoving him up against the door. You stumbled backwards in surprise.

"Joel!" Tommy yelled, yanking on his shoulder, trying to loosen his grip on the poor doctor but Joel just shrugged him off.

"Fix her!" Joel yelled, redness creeping up his neck as he slammed Nick up against the door again.

"I-I can't just fix her! What do you think this is? Look around!" Nick stammered, his fingers clawing at the backs of Joel's hands.

You gasped and felt your knees give out from underneath you. Slowly, you sunk down to the floor, crippled in fear. You huddled against the side of the bed, your hands clamped over your mouth as you rocked back and forth, trying and failing to keep your tears at bay.

"Joel! Let 'em go, you're scarin' her!" Tommy yelled, and that finally seemed to snap Joel out of it.

His grip instantly loosened and his head swiveled towards you, his eyes softening when he saw you curled up on the floor. He rushed forward but you held out a hand to stop him.

"Don't come near me."

He froze and stared down at you, hurt written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, and you flinched. Baby?

"Maybe we should give you two a minute," Tommy said. Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"N-no! What do you mean? No!" you cried out. You clawed at the table, pulling yourself up as the tears dried on your face. Joel took a few steps back and stood against the wall, crossing his arms and dropping his head, hiding his face.

"It's just Joel, he ain't gonna hurt you," Tommy said softly, but you still shook your head.

"Look what he just did!" you exclaimed, not even caring anymore if you were hurting his feelings. "How can you say that?"

"Because he loves you!" Tommy said, sounding exasperated.

The room fell silent, the only sound coming from you as you struggled to catch your breath. You glanced over at Joel but his chin was still tucked against his chest.

"Is that true?" you asked him. He nodded, but still didn't look up from the spot on the floor.

You sighed and rubbed your palms roughly over face.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? There's just a lot happening right now and I'm very confused," you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

"I get it," Tommy said, looking back and forth between you and Joel, but Joel still appeared to be fixated on the floor. "Why don't you go home and rest. Can she, doc? Maybe some sleep will help?"

Tommy raised his eyebrows at Nick, trying to get him to agree and play along. Say yes. Don't piss off Joel.

"Yeah, perhaps it's a good idea if you went home. There's some evidence to suggest being around a familiar setting might trigger your memory to return," Nick said, and Joel finally looked up from the floor.

"What else can we do?" he asked as your fingers fidgeted at your sides. You really didn't like the idea of going home with this man. He clearly had a short temper and that set you on edge.

"Are there any personal effects that she holds some sentimental value to?"

Your gaze bounced back and forth between the men as they all talked about you like you were some science project.

"Yeah," Joel said with a nod.

"Alright. Start with that. Anything since you've known each other would work best, see if it jogs her memory. A necklace or a trinket-"

"Yeah, I get it," Joel said, finally chancing a look in your direction. You quickly dropped your gaze from him and looked back at Tommy.

"Can I talk to you?" you asked Tommy, who looked at Joel. Joel didn't say anything, he just stared right back at Tommy, his jaw clenched and his shoulders rising and falling slowly, as if he were trying very hard to control his breathing. You looked back and forth between them, waiting for the silent standoff to end.

"I'll be outside," Joel finally muttered, then stalked out of the exam room with Nick in his wake, leaving just you and Tommy.

"I don't want to go home with him."

Tommy sighed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes.

"It's your home, too," he said.

"He scares me," you replied, crossing your arms. "He's a loose cannon. I-I don't feel like I know anyone here and everyone seems to know me. Do you know how that feels? Do you know how scary that is?"

Tommy dropped his hands and looked up at you.

"No, I don't. And I'm sorry, but I promise you nothin' bad's gonna happen. Joel's always had a short fuse but he would never, ever lay a hand on you. He's been head over heels since the moment he met you, and you love him back, sugar."

You looked around the room, needing a break from eye contact for just a minute while you gathered your thoughts.

"How long have I known him?" you asked.

"Five years."

You nodded and chewed on your lower lip.

"And how long have you known him?"

"All my life."

Your eyes darted over to his in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"He's my older brother," Tommy explained, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh," was all you said, suddenly feeling like shit for saying such things about his family.

"Listen. Why don't you give it a chance, hm? One day. See how it goes, and if you're still uncomfortable, we'll figure somethin' else out," Tommy offered. You considered it for a moment before reluctantly nodding your head. Aside from just walking out of Jackson, you didn't see much of a choice.

To say the walk to Joel's house was awkward would be putting it mildly.

You weren't sure if he overheard your conversation with Tommy, or maybe he just could sense how you felt about going home with him, but ever since you forced yourself to leave the exam room to find him waiting for you in the lobby, he had been very quiet.

His feelings were hurt, that much was obvious, but what could you do? It wasn't like you set out to intentionally hurt him. You had no idea who he was at the time.

You still weren't sure who he was.

You tried to subtly admire his profile as you walked side by side. He had a strong jaw, a sharp nose and a full head of hair, although you could tell he was older than you. By how much, you weren't sure.

You tried to see underneath the gruff exterior, wondering what on earth made you fall in love with him, but it was so hard to see past your first impression.

Well, second first impression.

Then he turned his head to look down at you. Your eyes met and you thought you felt a small flutter in your chest, but you couldn't tell if it was nerves or fear or something else but his eyes were absolutely beautiful. There was something so sincere about them and you found it oddly funny that they seemed to betray the rest of his hardened expression.

"Anythin' lookin' familiar?" he asked you. You blinked and looked around.

The street he was leading you down was filled with people. Children laughing and playing, adults chatting and smiling. If it wasn't for the setting being so strange, it would feel normal. You squinted at some of the faces as you walked by, hoping you would recognize somebody, but you didn't.

"No," you said with a shake of your head, and you thought you saw his shoulders slump next to you but you didn't want to get caught staring at him again, so you focused on looking straight ahead.

The two of you remained silent the rest of the walk, although you could feel the energy radiating off him and for the first time, you began to realize this must be just as hard for him as it was for you.

You were examining the huge watch towers that surrounded the town and wondering what on earth would require such firepower when you realized Joel was no longer at your side. You swiveled your head around, suddenly lost in a sea of people that were smiling at you as they strolled on by but you didn't see a single recognizable face. You felt the panic begin to build again until you heard your name and a gentle hand on your elbow. You looked up and actually felt relief when you saw Joel.

"Sorry, thought you were still with me," he said, then tilted his head towards a side street he must have began to walk down without you.

"We live down here," he added. You heard someone call out both your names as you walked down the street. Joel waved to an older gentleman on his porch and after a brief delay, you waved as well.

"This is so weird," you muttered, shaking your head as you looked around.

"Yeah, I reckon it is."

Joel stopped short in front of a small, two-story house with a large front porch. You looked up at it, taking in every detail. The shutters, the rocking chairs, the small garden out front surrounded by a white picket fence, hoping something would click but you still felt nothing.

"This is your house?" you asked him. He watched you carefully as you continued to look around, wishing he would see something in your eye that would give him a shred of hope.

"Our house, yeah," he corrected you. You glanced up at him and quickly looked away, feeling too guilty when you saw the look on his face.

"Sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be sorry," he told you, but he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and glanced around. "D'you wanna look inside?"

You nodded and followed him past the gate and up the little stone path that led to his - your - porch steps. A flash of yellow in the garden caught your eye and for the first time, a small smile played upon your lips.

"Oh, I love black-eyed susans," you said dreamily, your hand instinctually reaching out to touch the delicate petals.

"Yeah, I know. You told me your mom planted 'em every year," he said, stopping at the top of the steps to look down at you.

"That's right," you said with a smile. "Although it drove her crazy because-"

"The bunnies kept destroyin' 'em," he finished for you.

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment: him, waiting for you to remember, and you, wondering how you could forget.

"Yeah," you finally said, then dropped your gaze and cleared your throat, giving the flowers one last look before ascending the stairs to the front door.

Joel unlocked the door, pushing it open all the way and stepping aside so you could go in first. You peered inside for a moment before taking a step forward.

The first thing you noticed was it smelled faintly like firewood and coffee. The kitchen was to your left, living room to your right, and a staircase was in front of you next to a small hallway that appeared to lead to a back door of the house.

Joel stepped inside behind you and shut the door quietly, allowing you to take your time and process everything at your own speed. He desperately wanted to drag you around the house and show you things you should remember, but he refrained. Instead, his eyes followed where yours went. When you looked at the kitchen table, he thought remember when we had breakfast there this morning? When you looked at the fireplace, he thought remember on our anniversary when we couldn't make it up the stairs quickly enough so we made love in front of the fire? When you noticed the board games, boxes all frayed and worn, sitting on a bookshelf next to the couch, he thought remember when you beat Ellie in Scrabble and she flipped the board over?

But of course, you didn't remember any of those things.

You looked around blankly, and he could tell you were trying to remember but not a single shred of recognition flickered across your face. Your eyes landed on the kitchen counter and you took a step forward.

"We had coffee together today, didn't we?"

Joel's heart fluttered excitedly in his chest.

"Yeah, you remember that?" he asked, quickly joining you at your side. You looked up at him and he could immediately tell what your answer would be.

"No, I'm sorry, it's just-" you pointed to the two mugs still sitting together on the counter and he nodded solemnly.

"Oh, right," he said, then walked over to pick them up and rinse them off in the sink. He turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you slowly navigate the kitchen. Opening and closing drawers and cupboards, picking up a recipe book and flipping through it, then looking at the paintings on the walls.

"Did you or I draw this?" you asked, stepping towards a portrait that was clearly of him.

"Neither. Ellie did it," he told you, and you looked at him curiously.

"Ellie?"

He nodded and just as he was about to open his mouth to explain, the front door whipped open, startling you.

"Is it true?" a young girl with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail asked as she barged into the kitchen. When her eyes landed on you, she dropped her book bag and stepped forward, peering at you as if you were under a microscope.

"Ellie-" Joel began, pushing off the counter, but she cut him off.

"People are saying you lost your memory or something, is that true?" she asked again, and you nodded slowly.

"Holy shit!" she sputtered, and Joel repeated her name again, but harsher this time.

"Sorry," she mumbled, then pulled out a stool that was tucked under the kitchen island and plopped herself down. "Are you, like, okay? How's your head?"

"Uh, better now. The doctor gave me some medicine and it finally stopped hurting so much, but I got a pretty bad cut," you reached back and touched the bald spot with your fingertips. "He had to stitch it up."

"Can I see?" she asked, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, completely missing the way Joel perked up when he heard it.

"Sure," you said, turning around and lifting up your hair. "Can you see it?"

"Yeah, fucking gross, dude," she said with a shudder. You dropped your hair and turned back around.

"Is she your daughter?" you asked Joel, and Ellie burst out laughing.

"No way," she said, and he just rolled his eyes.

"I don't understand," you said with a frown. "Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," she told you so casually it almost gave you whiplash.

"Oh, my god! I'm so sorry," you said, feeling terrible, but she just gave you a look like you were crazy. Maybe you were.

"It's cool," she said, looking back and forth between you and Joel. "So she really doesn't remember anything?" Ellie asked him.

"Only stuff from... before," he said, narrowing his eyes at Ellie as if trying to silently communicate with her.

"Oh," she said, nodding slowly as if she understood. "Shit."

"Before what?" you pressed, but they both ignored your question.

"Why don't you give her some time to settle in," Joel told Ellie. "Meet us later for dinner at the Bison."

"Yeah, okay," Ellie said, sliding off the stool and picking up her abandoned backpack.

"You don't live here?" you asked her.

"Sorta. I live in the garage, see?" she said, pointing out the window to a building out back with a large window in the front and a small light next to the door.

"In the garage?" you repeated, appalled, but she just laughed.

"It used to be a garage. Joel helped me fix it up and it's more like a guest house now. Right, Joel?"

"Yeah," he said, walking deeper into the kitchen so he could look through the window with you. "You helped her paint it," he said quietly.

"I did?" you asked, and they both nodded.

It looked like they were both waiting for you to say something further, waiting for you to maybe recall the color or the weather that day, but nothing was ringing a bell. You looked at them hopelessly and Joel averted his gaze.

"Go on, Ellie. I'm sure you got schoolwork," he said, and she rolled her eyes as she turned and headed towards the door.

You watched her walk through the backyard and unlock the garage, catching a brief glimpse of the inside before she shut it softly behind her.

"You wanna go lay down for a bit?" Joel asked after he noticed you yawn, and you nodded. You followed him up the creaky staircase, your eyes drifting over everything you could find, hoping something would jump out at you along the way. When he got to the top of the stairs, he stopped suddenly between two bedroom doors and you gave him a confused look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, the look on his face beginning to worry you.

"Nothin', I just realized..." he trailed off and took a deep breath, still staring at the two doors. "We share a room and I just realized tonight'll be the first time in years we sleep apart."

You looked away, feeling uncomfortable. You could see the anguish all over his face. His jaw ticked to the side and he was blinking faster than usual and the guilt was burning a hole in your stomach.

"I'll stay in the spare room," you said, breaking the tension. "Can you just show me where I keep my stuff and I'll-"

"No," Joel said, shaking his head. "I'll go in the spare room. You stay in our room. Maybe it'll help... it should be more familiar to you in there."

You decided not to argue with him. He finally stepped towards the door on the right and pushed it open, leading you into a master suite with a queen sized bed in the middle of the room. There was a quilt on top that appeared to be handmade in various shades of greys and purples. You ran your hand over the material thoughtfully while Joel opened a few dresser drawers and pulled out some spare clothes for himself.

"This is pretty," you said, and he turned around to look at the quilt.

"Becky a few doors down makes 'em," he said, turning back to the dresser. "You really wanted purple and I fought you on it, but you always win," he said with a chuckle. You smiled to yourself as you continued to look around the room while Joel collected a few more belongings. You noticed a pair of reading glasses on top of an old western book on one end table. The other end table had a few loose hair ties, a homemade lip balm, and a black, leather bound book with a pen on top. Without even thinking, you walked forward and picked it up, flipping through the pages one by one. It appeared to be a journal, and it looked like it was your handwriting.

Joel stepped out of the bathroom attached to your room and saw you holding the book. He swallowed and watched your face closely, looking for any sign that what you were reading made sense.

"I was gonna show you that tomorrow. Thought it would be too much today," he said after a few minutes.

"I kept a journal?"

"Yeah. You don't write it in often, but sometimes if somethin' special happened, or you just felt the urge, you would write it down," he said, putting his toiletries next to his clothes on the bed.

You closed the book and placed it back on the table, staring at the old cover, lost in thought. You had a million questions and you had to start somewhere.

"Joel... what happened?" you asked him. He frowned, not following at first until you clarified. "In the world, I mean. What happened? Because all of this," you waved your hands around the room and gestured out through the window. "This doesn't seem right. Did I join a cult or something?"

Joel shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't wanna overwhelm you," he began. You sat down as well, making sure to put plenty of distance between you.

"I'm already overwhelmed. Just please... tell me what's going on."

He sighed and looked at the clock on the wall.

"The world ended," he said bluntly, glancing in your direction. You stiffened but you waited for him to elaborate. "It was quick. Happened on a Friday, everythin' was gone by Monday. There's this fungus called cordyceps-"

"Nick asked me about that," you said, and he nodded.

"Well, best guess is the fungus mutated and got into the food supply. It, uh, it infects the brain. It grows and takes over, but it doesn't kill you. Well, not technically." He could see the confusion on your face. He wasn't explaining this right. "The fungus wants to spread, you see? That's it's basic function. If it killed the host, it wouldn't be able to spread. So, the host remains alive, but they're no longer... them."

"And the hosts are... people?" you guessed, and Joel nodded.

"Yeah. Spread like wildfire. One person would get bit-"

"Bit?" you repeated, eyes wide.

"Yeah, it's how the fungus spreads. Through blood. One person would get bit and they turn within hours."

"And there's no cure?"

Joel paused and took a deep breath, his gaze darting nervously around the room.

"No, there's no cure," he finally said.

You sat back on the bed and thought about what Joel just told you. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense. She died the first day.

"And my family?" you asked softly, closing your eyes as you waited for the answer. Joel looked at you, his heart breaking that he had to deliver the news.

"They didn't make it," he said, and one tear slowly escaped and slid down your cheek. "It was a miracle you even made it. That any of us made it," he added, hoping to take the sting out of it.

"A miracle?" you scoffed, opening your eyes now. "How do you figure, Joel? What's the fucking point in living like this?" you asked him angrily, standing up from the bed and pacing around the room.

"Don't say that," he said sadly, rising to his feet. "Believe me, I thought the same thing," he said, unconsciously scratching at the scar on his cheek. "But it turns out there's plenty to live for. It ain't so bad."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" you challenged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "What is there to live for? Because I have to be honest, I'm not seeing it."

Joel swallowed as he watched you angrily move around the room.

"Love," he said quietly, and you stopped. You stood with your back to him, your shoulders rising and falling as anger and frustration coursed through you.

Finally, you turned to look at him, tears silently falling.

"But everyone I loved is dead," you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. "My family is dead! Everyone I know is gone! What do I have left?" You dropped your hands and looked at him, tears steadily falling as you waited, completely forgetting the obvious answer.

"You have me," he said, his voice cracking. "And I know that don't mean much now, but I promise you, it will."

Your head fell forward, chin tucking into your chest with your hands on your hips.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, still looking down. "That was so rude, I didn't mean to say it like that."

"This is hard for me, too," he said, taking a few steps towards you, then stopped. He wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you close, tell you everything was going to be okay, but he had to remind himself that he was essentially a stranger to you.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin' for somethin' that ain't your fault," he told you sternly. You dragged your eyes back up to him, your shoulders slumped forward, eyes puffy and red.

"What if my memory never comes back?" you whispered. It was a question Joel didn't want to ask out loud but knew eventually it would be brought up. He took a deep breath and looked you square in the eye.

"Then I'll have to make you fall in love with me all over again," he said with a small shrug, and you let out a huff of laughter at that.

"You sound pretty confident," you replied.

"I did it once before, I can do it again," he told you, his gaze never wavering. "I'll never stop tryin'. What we have together, it's... it's rare. And it might sound stupid, but we're meant to be together. If you let me, I'll prove it to you."

Something in his eye made you feel calmer the longer you looked at him. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't joking. He meant every word. You tore your gaze away from him and looked around the room again. The room you shared with him. The room where you held each other, kissed each other, made love together. Years of memories etched into the floorboards. Countless secrets whispered into the pillows. Laughter and tears echoed against the walls. Your eyes found him again just to realize he never looked away. He stood tall and firm in the middle of the room, patiently waiting for you. And you had to assume if he felt this strongly about what you had, then it must be worth fighting for.

"Okay."

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[bluebeary-jay]

Let me (put my lips to somethin')

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: 5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened (or: your relationship with Joel over the years)

Tags: 5+1 babeyyy, VERY self-indulged (i just want this man to call me his babygirl 😫), FLUFF, tooth-rotting fluff even, a bit of angst, age gap, PINING, i could write several fics out of this but no we're doing 5+1! also reader has she/her pronouns (i tried not to but at some point it was getting difficult not to use any :( sorry guys)

Warnings: descriptions of violence and wounds, cursing, getting drunk, David (which is a warning in itself), allusions to SA (but nothing happens)

Word count: ~9.4K (jesus i really got carried away im not doing that again for at least some time)

A/N: i am baack!! i finally had time to finish this monster and i guess it's ready to post <3 i absolutely ADORE 5+1 fics and always wanted to write one on my own. so here it is!! hope you enjoy because i loved writing it

1. boston qz

You bit your forearm harder, trying to hold back the tears of pain. The man kneeling in front of you glanced up.

“Bite the sleeve of your jacket. Otherwise they’re gonna think you’re infected and shoot you on sight.”

You didn’t answer but nodded, knowing that he was right. Holding your breath for a moment, you took a handful of the material and bit down on it, shutting your eyes tightly. The excruciating pain in your leg was hard enough to endure, but for the first place with it competed an absolutely unbearable look of poorly concealed pity (which you initially took for irritation) on the face of Tess’ friend.

It was through her that you met Joel. At the beginning he wasn’t very keen about letting you work with them but slowly warmed up to your presence – at least as much as a man like Joel could. Most of the time he was grumbling and, in all fairness, looking slightly angry but you’ve soon understood that he’s actually a pretty good guy. Caring. Funny, if he lets you see this side of him. Also really fucking handsome, but that was beside the point.

The job was supposed to be an easy one – just meet with a couple of Zeke’s people, pick up the smuggled items and exchange them for some meds and ammunition. However, none of you expected some random rogue group to ambush you on your way back and attempt to steal the cargo.

Tess has managed to get away just before soldiers showed up, alerted by the sound of gunfire way past the curfew. Before they could spot any of you, Joel quickly pulled you into one of the nearby buildings after one of the strangers slashed your thigh, leaving you unable to run.

So now here you were. Bleeding from your leg and making a pathetic crybaby out of yourself before the very eyes of the man you respected and lowkey had a small crush on.

Speaking of whom, Joel gave you a look of sympathy before squeezing the stapler handle again, ejecting another staple into your skin. You tensed and a broken cry escaped your lips, your breathing rapid.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, putting his other hand on your knee and rubbing slightly. “Just two more and you’ll be good to go.”

You breathed out a humorless laugh and wiped your face, sniffling.

“Just get on with it. This is way more embarrassing than it should be.” In the corner of your eye you saw him look up. He didn’t move the hand in which he held the staple gun yet, so you took this moment to steady your breath and slumped against the wall. “You probably think it’s pretty pathetic, but in my defense I never had such a gash closed with staples like that.”

“M’not thinkin’ that,” he retorted and you blew a raspberry.

“Sure. Tess told me about some of your forays, you know? You could probably get run over by a damn tank and walk it off like it’s nothing.”

Joel was silent for some time. You wiped your cheeks and motioned for him to eject the last staples at the edge of the deep cut in your thigh. He mumbled to you to get ready and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the pain.

It hurt like hell and you couldn’t help the tears flowing from your eyes, but soon enough it was over.

The sound of shouting from outside drew your attention from the pain in your leg for a couple of seconds. You tensed up, listening intently if the soldiers weren’t busting in the building you were in, but the noises soon went past you.

“Y’know, if my brother was here, he’d have told you about the first time I had a wound stitched outside of the controlled conditions,” Joel spoke up unexpectedly, unpacking his backpack in search of clean bandages. “I nearly bit off my thumb when he was tryin’ to sew my foot back together.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his confession and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a slight smirk.

“Is that true?”

Joel huffed with fake indignation and lifted his left hand to your eyes, twisting it so that the dim light from outside illuminated the side of it. Above and below the small bone at the base of his thumb appeared very light and irregular lines. You looked at his face with an unbelieving smile.

“When was that?”

“Ah… Just before the outbreak, I’d say.”

“And what happened to your foot?”

“Construction work. I don’t remember exactly what that was.”

“But how hard did you have to chomp down on your thumb for it to be still visible?” you asked, laughing, to which he chuckled and shrugged.

“Hey, don’t judge. If it was Tommy who was fixin’ your leg, you’d probably end up without a couple of fingers too, just for good measure.”

He found the bandage and motioned for you to straighten your leg at the knee. You watched him carefully as he looked over your bare thigh and the (not very pretty to look at) sutured wound. The leg of your pants was cut and tossed away earlier so that Joel could stitch you up freely.

“So you have a brother. Is he really that bad at treating wounds?” you asked to distract yourself from the awkwardness of the whole situation, though Joel seemed surprisingly calm.

“He got better with time,” your colleague answered and then looked up at you. “But I didn’t tell you this to bitch about Tommy’s skills.”

“Oh?” you nudged him with your other leg. “So what moral should I draw from this story?”

You clearly saw him suppressing a smile when he shook his head lightly.

“Don’t feel bad that it hurts,” he murmured and the snicker disappeared from your lips. “I’ve seen looks like the one on your face plenty before. It’s a fuckin’ big gash, I’d be worried if you didn’t show any signs of pain.”

You couldn’t come up with any snarky remarks and just blinked when Joel sent you a quick, if not a bit self-conscious, smile, like he wasn’t used to reassuring someone else.

“The fact that you let your tears flow doesn’t make you any weaker,” he said even quieter than before. You still weren’t answering and he cleared his throat, apparently growing uncomfortable with your silence, then grabbed the bottle of alcohol. “I’m gonna pour some of that shit over your wound again. It’ll sting a bit.”

You observed without a word how he cleansed the gash and started to wind the bandage around your thigh.

Weirdly enough, you also noticed that you couldn’t stop glancing at his lips.

*****

2. bill and frank’s

“No. I said no, come back here!”

Giggles erupted from you as Joel tried (and failed) to grab you when you jumped over the couch. He sighed deeply as you made eye contact with him and, with a provocative smile, drank up the rest of the bottle before putting it down on the nearby table. The man looked so disappointed and done with you, it only made you laugh louder in your drunken state.

You two were staying for a couple of days at Bill and Frank’s heavenly place, which you looked forward to for weeks now. Originally Tess was supposed to go with you but there was a last-minute change of plans, and you made the journey alone with Joel. Not counting a few infected you stumbled upon on your way here, your venture was quite nice and after a delightful dinner with your hosts, you sneaked into Joel’s room with the bottle of wine Frank gave you and the stuff you smuggled yourself.

Joel didn’t seem to be having as much fun as you, though.

“I’m never drinkin’ with you again,” he muttered, sitting heavily on the couch with a grunt. You faked a pout, leaning over his head upside down and almost losing your balance.

“You’re grouchy because the stuff you brought tasted like shit.”

“And yet you drank most of it.”

“I didn’t,” you slurred, waltzing round the couch and grinning. “I’m feelin’ great.”

“Be careful or you’ll pick up my accent you so like pokin’ fun of.”

You snorted and flopped on the seat next to him. “Mhm, m’feelin’ fine and dandy,” you grumbled in the deepest voice you could make, ridiculously imitating his Texas drawl. “Yee-haw.”

“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” sighed Joel with exasperation but you could see a crooked smile tugging on his lips. You beamed and plopped down, laying your head on his lap. He peeked at you with his brows raised. “What are you doin’ now, you little devil?”

“Just resting,” you answered. The lamp behind Joel was blinding you with its light, so you covered your eyes with your hand to shield them. “Is that uncomfy for you? Do you want me to get up?”

“Nah. You can stay for a minute.”

As if wanting to make sure you won’t try to stand up, he laid his hand on your hair, brushing some of it to the back. You hummed and shivered when he gently scratched one specific spot on your scalp, and instinctively tilted your head, chasing his touch.

Joel snorted.

“You look like a goddamn cat.”

“Shut up,” you murmured in response, a small smile adoring your face. “It feels nice.”

You opened your eyes and once again shielded them from the lamp. Joel moved his head slightly to the side to block out the bothersome stimulus, causing you to giggle again.

“It looks like you have a halo ’round your head.” You lifted your arm and made a circle, brushing the side of his face when your hand plopped back down limply on your stomach. The older man huffed a smile, looking away to glance around the room.

“I’ll be really surprised if you remember anythin’ of what you’re sayin’ tomorrow.”

“Gimme a break,” you grumbled with a smile, not taking your eyes off him. Your hand raised itself to his face again, as if on its own accord, and brushed lightly the corner of his mouth and the stubble on his cheek. “It looks pretty.”

His brown irises flickered to you before he averted his gaze. With a hum you withdrew your hand and closed your eyes, your mind getting woozy from alcohol and tiredness.

Joel’s fingers were still running through your hair gently and you really hoped you’d remember it in the morning.

*****

3. road, somewhere in missouri

You had no idea how long you had been driving.

Ellie was asleep in the back seat and Joel was getting some well-deserved shut-eye after you volunteered to sit behind the wheel several hours ago. The clock on the dashboard was showing 4:07 and you planned on driving until the sun started to rise, then switching places with Joel.

That is, if you manage to stay awake.

You tried to drink some of the coffee Joel prepared beforehand to wake yourself up but it tasted horrible, leaving a too bitter taste on your tongue. Once you catched yourself closing your eyes for a second longer than intended and the car started to veer off course before you corrected it.

Yes, you were aware driving in this kind of state was extremely stupid, but you knew Joel was anxious to find his brother and drop Ellie off with the Fireflies as soon as possible. And you knew that if you wake him up he’ll insist on driving for the rest of the way himself, ignoring his own needs and exhaustion.

You risked a look to the side at his sleeping form. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head propped against the headrest. Honestly, it looked like the man was just pretending to nap – his body seemed uptight, as if he was ready to spring into action at any second.

And he looked beautiful with his face bathed in the gray light of early morning. Like a painting you’d gladly admire for hours.

You sighed and cracked your neck, focusing on the road ahead of you. Several more hours to go. There was a gas tank in the back of the car, so you didn’t have to worry about that, and if you remembered correctly the map you and Joel studied earlier, you should get close to some bigger city in the late afternoon. Joel wanted to take the side roads and you agreed, but your supplies… Did you have enough of them? And what was the name of that city again…?

A hand grabbed the wheel and gently straightened the course when without you noticing the car started to veer too much to the left again.

You emerged from your reverie immediately and looked to the right at Joel who was now wide awake.

“You alright?” he asked with concern, and his voice had this enticing, raspy drawl to it that told you he really dozed off for a while.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly but quietly, not wanting to wake Ellie up. “I’m fine, promise.”

He eyed the tiredness on your face and the tight grip you had on the wheel.

“If you need to get some rest–”

“No, no, no. I can go on. Sorry you had to wake up.”

Joel grunted and stretched in the small space in the front seat and you tried really hard not to stare at how he craned his neck or at the way his muscles tensed, or at the strip of his skin revealed when his shirt rolled up…

“Pull over.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “No. I told you I’m fine.”

“C’mon, darlin’, don’t make me wrestle with you in a movin’ vehicle.”

Either he had a clue about what this nickname was doing to you, or he was still half-asleep and it simply slipped out; but whether it was intentional or not, you couldn’t dream of opposing him now and with a defeated sigh (and burning neck) you pulled over, slowly bringing the car to a halt. You glanced backwards, but miraculously Ellie hadn’t woken up yet.

Joel looked you over with concern and you shut your eyes, laying your forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “But I really can keep going, at least until the sun goes up.”

“We’re switchin’,” he just said, unfastening his seatbelt.

“Joel, no!” you hissed, but he ignored you and went around the hood of the car, stopping at your side and opening the door for you. “I’m not moving. You need to get some fucking rest.”

“I already did. Now scoot over.”

“No, I told you–”

“What’s going on? Are we there yet?”

Both of you looked back to see Ellie sitting up and rubbing her eyes. In a split second she went from half-awake to alert, and she eyed you and Joel suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she asked again.

“We’re switchin’ places,” Joel spoke up before you had a chance to answer the girl. “Our current driver is pretty tired.”

“I’m not!” you protested, glaring at him.

“You almost drove the car into a ditch.”

“Woah.” Ellie lifted her hands and puffed her cheeks in a nervous manner. “Just this time, I second Joel. I really don’t want to end up in a ditch, thank you very much.”

“You see?” Joel looked at you expectedly. “Outvoted.”

You squinted in the rearview mirror at the teen. “Traitor.”

Ellie just shrugged. With a heavy sigh you unfastened yourself and exited the car, but before you could go around it and take Joel’s previous place, he stuck his arm out, stopping you.

“Actually, Ellie, do you want to ride shotgun now?” he asked and nodded in your direction. “It’d do her good to lie down for a bit.”

“No,” you said firmly at the same time when Ellie agreed with an enthusiastic “hell yeah!”. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the pair. “You guys are in cahoots.”

“Boo-hoo,” Ellie had a mean smile on her face. “Get in the backseat and cry about it.”

“She’s so cheeky,” you murmured to Joel, trying to hide your smile, and by the look of it he had trouble doing that, too. You sighed and lifted your hands in surrender. “Alright, you two. You won.”

“Great.” Ellie grinned, then started walking off the street. “But give me a moment, dudes, I gotta pee,” she said before marching further into the field on the side of the road.

“Don’t go too far!” shouted Joel after her.

“Don’t drive off without me!”

With that Ellie disappeared behind a small hill and you turned back to your companion, scrunching your face at him. Joel shrugged and walked past you.

“C’mon. I’ll find you a blanket.”

You huffed but didn’t argue further, knowing nothing will change his mind. He could be stubborn as a mule sometimes.

You climbed into the backseat and waited for Joel to take out the blanket you took from Bill and Frank’s house from the back of the car. He opened the door next to your head and handed it over, waiting for you to unfurl it. You expected him to go take the driver’s seat right away, but he stayed in place. Only then you noticed the folded jacket he was holding in his hands.

He didn’t react at all to your raised eyebrows and questioning look, and just casually laid his jacket under your head to serve as a pillow. The gesture was so sweet it made you melt inside, and you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“Only if you and Ellie aren’t too loud,” you teased, trying to settle down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “If you start arguing about some stupid shit again, I’m taking the wheel from you by force.”

He smirked and squatted next to your seat, looking down at you with an amused expression.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You had to be really fucking tired, because for a split second you thought that Joel has just flirted with you. You hid your face in his jacket to partially conceal your smile, but it only made your face hotter because the material smelled of him so much.

“I could. You’re lucky I’m deciding to show mercy.”

“How gracious of you. I’m honored.

“But we’re swapping places when I wake up,” you added, looking at him as sternly as you could. He raised his eyebrows with a half-smile when a yawn escaped you immediately after. “I’m serious, Joel.”

“Sure, darlin’.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead before standing up. “Now sleep.”

You could only stare into space as he carefully closed the door next to your head and walked around the vehicle with heavy steps. The spot on your head where his lips touched your skin was tingling and you inhaled deeply to calm yourself down before he entered the truck again and fastened the seatbelt.

Joel put some cassette into the tape deck and turned the volume down even before the song started to play.

You closed your eyes and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, hiding the lower part of the face – and a blush spreading on your cheeks – under the cover.

*****

4. jackson

You looked out the window at the children pulling their sleds behind them and smiled at how happy and carefree they looked. Down the road you could just barely see the big Christmas tree in the square and for a moment it felt like the apocalypse had never happened.

“They’re pretty lucky to be growing up here,” you said quietly. Joel was closing and opening cabinets behind you, clearly looking for something.

“Not sure about it. But I guess it beats growin’ up in any of the QZ’s or Fedra’s barracks.”

After Joel’s sudden change of heart and Ellie’s confident decision that she’d rather travel with you both instead of Tommy, the younger Miller convinced his brother to stay one more day in Jackson. It was honestly a good idea because you doubted any of you three got any rest the previous night. You certainly didn’t, tossing and turning the entire time from worry.

Joel chuckled and the sound pulled you out of your thoughts.

“What did you find?” you asked. He was kneeling in front of one of the cabinets, holding a small box.

“Old cassettes. You want to listen to some music?”

“Sure.” You stood up with a smile. “It’ll be pretty atmospheric.”

Joel gave you a dirty look.

“I’m not putting on Christmas carols.”

“I don’t want to listen to Christmas carols. Find something good.”

He sighed and took out a carton box from the cabinet, and then started to rummage through it. “Alright, so what do you want?”

“You can choose. Pick something you think I’d like.” A thought struck you and you glanced around the living room, furrowing your brows. “Is there even any tape player in here or something like that?”

“Upstairs,” Joel mumbled absent-mindedly. “In Ellie’s room. We can go see if it works.”

Ellie was out exploring Jackson and you doubted she’ll be back very soon. You knelt down next to Joel, looking at him with a grin as he inspected the box, pulling out and reading some of the cassettes before putting them back down. You rested your chin on your hands.

“Just get anything,” you ushered after some time, to which he chuckled.

“You said to pick somethin’ you’d like. Gimme some time.”

“Do you think I’m that picky?”

“Of course you are.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t have to wait much longer before Joel stood up with a grunt and held out his hand to you. In the other one he held a white cassette.

“C’mon. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love this one.”

You took his hand with excitement and let yourself be pulled to your feet. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to listen to some music – well, maybe not as long, but you missed it regardless – that you felt a bubbly joy at the thought of hearing something new.

And more than that, something that Joel has picked specifically for you. Doesn’t matter that you had to ask him.

You went upstairs to the room that was currently Ellie’s bedroom and Joel bent down, inserting the cassette into the tape player. He looked over his shoulder at you with a small smile and you beamed right back.

A loud, scratchy sound rang out.

You winced and Joel furrowed his brows. He took the cassette out, checked the empty slot and the cassette itself, and then made sure the power was on.

The first notes started to play, but they sounded distorted, like a scratched record. Joel cursed and tried again, but there must’ve been something wrong with the device, because no matter what he did, the music didn’t play right.

He tried again and again, and finally you decided to put a stop to it. You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Leave it, Joel. It’s okay.”

“Just my fuckin’ luck,” he muttered, not turning around. “Of course Tommy gave us a place without a working cassette player.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. You wanted to say something like ’the song probably isn’t even worth fussing over’, but the words got stuck in your throat. He picked it for you to listen to, of course it was worth it. “Maybe I just wasn’t meant to hear it.”

The man worried his lip and you quickly averted your gaze. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips, sighing.

“Nonsense,” he answered, looking intently at the device like he wanted to get it to work by sheer willpower. “You wanted to hear it.”

“Well, I did.” You got embarrassed for whatever reason, not knowing what to say. “But there’s not really anything we can do about that. It’s no big deal.”

Joel’s jaw twitched and he turned to look at you thoughtfully. You offered him a lopsided smile, but he didn’t move a muscle and you could almost imagine small gears turning in his head when he had this expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked with a stifled laugh.

“I… have an idea,” he said slowly, almost hesitantly. Then he focused his eyes on you again. “Just… trust me for a moment.”

Your gaze softened and you took a step closer to him.

“Joel, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed but his brown irises haven’t left yours for even a second.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” you asked with a crooked smile, but he just shook his head.

“C’mon, close your eyes. And promise you won’t laugh.”

Confusion washed over you but you closed your eyes as requested. You heard Joel sighing and then he took your hand in his calloused and rough one, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your neck got way too hot but you tried not to tense or flinch in fear of making him back out.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” he repeated and you just now realized you haven’t answered him. He put his hand on your waist, very, very lightly, and your other hand was raised to  shoulder height, cradled in his warm one.

“I swear I won’t,” you whispered, your heart beating so damn loud you were scared he was going to hear it with how close you two were.

Joel exhaled heavily and you felt his breath on your hair.

And then he started to hum quietly and sway you gently from side to side. You desperately tried to remain calm, but how were you supposed to do that when your body felt so hot and he was so close–

“I reached inside myself and found nothin’ there… to ease the pressure… of my ever-worrying mind, hmm…”

Joel’s voice was deep and harsh right in front of you, and it sounded more like he was purring than singing. You suspected he slowed down the pace of the song significantly to match his movements and your heart swelled with warmth and adoration. The smile on your face widened and you took a step to the left, then to the right, gradually engaging in your dance more and more. You wanted to make it less uncomfortable and awkward for him and it seemed to have worked a bit because the next lines were much more confident, and his voice steadier.

“All my power wasted ’way, fear the crazed and lonely looks the mirror’s sendin’ me these days, hmm…”

His hold on you tightened slightly and you held his hand a little more securely, unable to hold back a goofy smile on your face.

“Touch me… how can it be? Believe me… the sun always shines on TV.”

You were falling for him all over again and it was not fair that he made you promise to keep your eyes closed. Though if he didn’t, you’d probably end up doing something dumb.

Like kissing him.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Hold me… close to your heart. Touch me… Give all your love to me. To me…”

Did he just pull you closer or was it you that took a step forward? It was hard to tell without seeing where you step, but you suddenly were very aware of the material of his shirt under your chin and the smell of shampoo he used to wash his hair, the pressure of his hand on your lower back and his quiet, drawling voice right next to your ear.

You were positive you’re about to pass out.

And it felt blissful.

Joel kept humming the chorus of the song, his voice getting softer and lower with each word. You relished in the warmth of his embrace, begging any higher power that he won’t let go of you immediately once he stops singing.

He didn’t.

Instead you two kind of naturally came to a stop but neither of you moved, still standing chest to chest and breathing a bit shakily. Your palm – or maybe it was his – was sweaty, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling, wanting to stay like this as long as possible.

“The original is much more lively,” Joel spoke in a soft whisper after some time and you smiled lightly.

“Well, I really liked your version,” you answered just as quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimate atmosphere in the room. “Joel?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah.”

You did so, but didn’t move your head, still keeping it on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. “Thank you for that,” you whispered and you felt him nodding.

“Anytime.”

His fingers crept a bit higher up your spine, but still his touch was so light and unsure.

You realized with a flicker of hope that he wasn’t pushing you away. He was pulling you closer.

Careful not to move too abruptly, you lifted your head and turned it to look him in the eyes. They were already on you, so very close, warm and hesitant, but also not showing any signs of discomfort or regret.

“Joel?” you asked again and you were so close to each other, it came out less as a question and more like a quiet breath. He heard it, though.

“Yeah?”

“Can I–”

Suddenly the door downstairs slammed extremely loudly and you both jumped when the noise broke the heavy silence.

“Hello! Is anybody here?!”

Ellie came back.

Both of you automatically took a step backwards, letting go of each other. Your face was scorching hot and you couldn’t force yourself to look at Joel. With a deep (hopefully unnoticed by the man standing right in front of you) breath, you quickly tried to get a grip on yourself when you heard Ellie running up the stairs.

“I was calling you, guys!” she panted and looked from you to the older man. “What’s up?”

“We…” Joel cleared his throat. “Tried to put some music on. The darn thing isn’t workin’, though.”

“Ugh, that’s a bummer.” Ellie turned to you and tilted her head. “Were you out, too? Your face is all red and shit.”

Even if it wasn’t before, it certainly was now. All attention shifted to you in a second and it made you want to cry.

“Yes,” you uttered quickly, “and… I’m actually going out again. I wanted to ask Maria something.”

You didn’t wait for any of them to stop or question you further – you all but ran down the stairs and bolted outside without even taking a jacket or a hat.

Fuck…

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

*****

5. basement, somewhere in colorado

He was dying.

Joel was dying and there was nothing you could do to help him.

You tried your hardest, though, to take care of both him and Ellie. You went out hunting so she wouldn’t have to starve, you encouraged her to get as much rest as possible while you watched over the unconscious man during the night, and not once did you show any doubt that Joel will get better.

But you had a feeling she knew why you were so reluctant to stay behind while the girl took her turn looking for food.  The truth was, you were starting to crack if you sat for too long at Joel’s side, letting the intrusive thoughts take root in your mind. You needed those moments outside, because they were the only ones when you let your tears flow.

So when it was only you and him in the basement, you spent this time brushing the hair out of his face and coaxing him to drink. You checked his wound every so often, trying to keep it as clean as possible. You held his hand, humming to him that one song he sang for you in Jackson, though you didn’t know the words.

It was painful, to just sit in place and be unable to do anything to help, but you tried not to break down. Not when both of them counted on you.

So you stayed strong, hoping it’ll all turn out alright.

But luck still wasn’t on your side.

The men Ellie encountered the day before were here now, looking for you and Joel, and hungry for blood. She told you all about her interaction with them and since yesterday you were ready for a fight in case they showed up, but somehow it still surprised you and made your heart hammer in your chest in fear.

There wasn’t anywhere you could run to, and Joel wasn’t even able to keep his eyes open, let alone walk. You didn’t really have any other options.

So there was only one thing you could do, and that was to protect those closest to you.

You quickly took your backpack and passed Ellie your gun, closing her fingers around the cold metal.

“I’ll barricade the door, but if anyone comes in here, you blast their skull open, you hear me?” you whispered urgently and the girl nodded. You took Joel’s rifle from the floor and hung it over your shoulder. “I’ll try to take them out and lead them away. I’ll be back.”

“You better come back,” Ellie muttered and you looked at her softly, nodding. Then your gaze involuntarily shifted to Joel.

You didn’t know how many people were outside – if there were three or four of them, you should be able to shoot most of them before they notice you. If you don’t miss, that is.

But if there were more…

Choking back a nervous sob, you knelt next to the mattress and took Joel’s head in your hands. His eyes were only half-open and his forehead covered in sweat. Your heart clenched painfully at how weak he looked.

Acting on impulse, you leaned down and softly kissed the place above the corner of his mouth.

“Wake up,” you said to him firmly, brushing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Joel. Ellie and I need you.”

You knew you had to go. You had to go now and make sure those fuckers outside don’t find Ellie and him.

But you stayed just for a second longer to press your forehead to his.

“I love you,” you whispered, so quietly you barely heard yourself.

And then you pulled away and ran upstairs.

From then on it was all a blur. You managed to kill one of the men with a clean shot between his eyes, but the other one ducked out of the way when he noticed you. Turned out there were six of them – too many – and what’s worse, one of them came up behind you, forcing you to flee sooner than you’d planned.

It would probably be wiser to take the horse but you didn’t want to endanger the poor creature, so you ran on foot.

You didn’t get far. One of the men managed to shoot you in the leg, making you keel over onto the frozen ground with a scream of pain. You turned around and saw him lifting his gun again before another voice yelled that he wanted you alive.

No. No, no, you weren’t about to let them take you.

You crawled towards where your rifle lay in the snow but just before you could reach it, it was kicked away by a heavy boot which then dealt a severe blow to your stomach. You doubled over, wheezing and coughing for air. By the time you managed to somehow catch your breath, someone pressed their foot on the gunshot wound in your calf, forcing a scream of agony out of you.

“Now, stay calm. I don’t want to shoot you.”

You clutched at your leg, glaring up at the ginger man who you suspected was the same David Ellie has encountered.

The man grinned nastily at the state you were in, and you didn’t like his expression one bit. He must’ve noticed that you were ready to lunge at him at any moment because he swiftly lifted his gun to your head. You froze.

“Where is your friend and the girl?” he asked quietly. You sneered at him, baring your teeth.

“Fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit.”

“David, she killed Paul,” spat another, younger one, looking down at you with hatred. “If that bastard has already died, let’s at least kill his bitch.”

You tried to think of a way to get out of this situation, but both of the men had their guns pointed at you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough with the gunshot wound.

You tried to move slightly but David pressed his foot harder on your leg, causing more blood to flow from your wound and you cried out, the pain clouding your vision.

“Don’t try anything, sweetheart,” he murmured in a warning tone. “You might bleed out.”

Your eyes were full of hate and rage but you didn’t dare to move again just yet.

“Where are they?” David asked again and you huffed a humorless chuckle while trying not to show how much pain you were in.

“You know that it was me who killed that idiot?” you asked in the most mocking tone you could muster, in the meantime desperately thinking how the fuck you were going to get out of here, preferably alive. “And your friend over there.” You nodded in the direction of where the body of the man you shot was lying. “Which one of you stood next to him? Was it you?” you asked the younger man who shot you in the leg. “I hope I hadn’t splattered you too much with the remnants of his brain.”

“You little bitch,” the other man sneered, lifting his gun again despite David’s stern order to back off. “I’d love to see the face of your friend when I blast your–”

“Leave her alone, you fuckers!!”

All of you turned your heads and your stomach churned when you saw Ellie on the horse you borrowed from Tommy. More shots rang out in the air when she blindly fired at the two men standing above you, and then the rest of the strangers who emerged from between the trees.

“Alive!!” David yelled after his men when they started chasing Ellie who grabbed the reins and cantered in the opposite direction. Then the man turned back to you. “We will catch her. Then we will find your friend, and he’ll pay for his sins.”

You growled.

“I told you it wasn’t him who killed that man.” He shook his head and you fumed with anger. “You don’t think I’m capable of that?”

“Oh, I think you’re capable of a lot.” His stare slid down your body, from head to toe, and terror gripped your heart at the sadistic excitement in his eyes. “And I think you must really care about him if you’re ready to trade your life for his. Such loyalty is admirable, but your love is misplaced.”

The snow around you was getting more and more red and you really started to worry that the bullet might’ve hit an artery. David’s eyes shifted to your leg as well, and he hummed.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of in our community.”

“I don’t want to be any part of your fucked up sect.”

“You will. You just need a father to lead you to the right path.” He leaned over you in such a manner that it made your blood run cold. “I’ll teach you personally.”

Suddenly a shot echoed in the air and you heard a distant neighing of a horse. Your head automatically turned in the direction of the noise and David took advantage of your moment of distraction to strike your temple with his gun, thus knocking you unconscious.

*****

+1. silver lake

Joel woke up.

And he felt like he was made out of pure adrenaline and rage.

You weren’t with Ellie when he found her staggering through the snow, the face of the teen terrified and covered in blood. He comforted her as best as he could, relief and fear fighting inside him as he held the girl in his arms.

But she didn’t know where you were held. If you were even alive.

And that was a thought that Joel couldn’t bear. He wouldn’t even allow for the possibility that you were no longer…

He vaguely remembered you stroking his cheek with slow and delicate touches, and your humming while he was laying on the mildewed mattress in the basement. Maybe it wasn’t even a memory, but a dream – it was hard to tell in his delirious state.

But he was pretty sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he felt soft, cold lips right next to his and heard your voice – he knew it was your voice, he’d recognize it anywhere – whispering the words he never let himself hope you’d say to him.

Words he would be damned if he didn’t say back to you.

And that’s why he was merciless with the men he encountered on his way to you and Ellie. His own tiredness and pain piercing his abdomen didn’t matter – nothing mattered when you two weren’t with him, when he didn’t know if you were hurt or even still breathing. The desire to help and protect his girls numbed the pain in his stomach so much that he almost forgot he could barely stand just a few hours ago.

Once he found Ellie and took her to a safe location, he went back to look for you. He didn’t want to leave the girl alone, but she seemed terrified at the prospect of going back and through the buildings, so he left her his gun, promising to be right back.

One of the bastards Joel ran across on his way back was helpful enough (after being shot in both knees and having his forearm broken) to direct him to the place where you were supposedly being held – a small building hidden behind the still burning dining room.

No one else stood in his way when he cautiously reached the structure. He went in and started checking every single room, getting more and more anxious every time he found them empty. At one point he was ready to tear the walls apart and go back to see if there was anyone left alive who could tell him where you were – but then spotted a hidden, smaller metal door, which apparently led to the basement.

It wasn’t locked and Joel didn’t hear anything on the other side so he opened it slowly, quickly walking down the stairs and scanning the room for any enemies, but there were none. Half of the room was enclosed by a chain-link fence and the entry to the cage was slightly open.

And inside sat you, with a cloth around your eyes and hands tied above your head.

His knees almost gave way under him from relief when you perked up at the sound of his footsteps. You were alive. You were–

“If you fucking try to touch me again, I’ll break more than your stupid jaw!” you yelled out of the blue, starting to struggle and kick haphazardly, though the placement of your wrists was forcing you to stay in a sitting position. “You motherfucker, don’t come any closer!”

The fear and desperation in your voice broke Joel’s heart in an instant and made him stop dead in his tracks.

“It’s me,” he hurried to say, but his voice was weak and the next words got stuck in his throat when he saw your bloodied nose, bruises on your face and neck, as well as a dirty bandage tied around your calf with a seizable crimson stain on it.

He ushered inside, opening the door to the cell wide open with a loud scraping. You started panicking even more, cursing and kicking when he crouched next to you, intending to untie your hands.

“I said don’t fucking touch me! I’ll kill you!” you screamed and Joel actually had to back away a little to avoid getting kicked in the ribs.

“It’s me!” he said louder, but it was clear you didn’t hear him. In a quick movement he reached out, yanking the blindfold off your eyes, and put his hands on both sides of your face. “It’s me. Joel.”

In the first moment his touch made you recoil and the look of fury deepened on your face while you continued to scream bloody murder. Your eyes were so wild and terrified, Joel wanted nothing more than to pull you close to his chest and never let go. 

“Look at me, baby. It’s alright,” he whispered soothingly, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones like he vaguely remembered you doing when he was unconscious. “It’s me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Your eyes slowly started to focus on his face for the first time since he took the blindfold off, and Joel felt like something was tearing his chest apart at the sight of fear and disbelief on your face.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he muttered in a strangled voice, trying not to show he was close to crying, too. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

A broken sob issued from your throat when you took in the sight of him, your eyes lingering on his face and stomach where the wound was.

“...Joel?”

“I’m here,” he said softly, quickly cutting the ropes binding you to the indent in the wall and wincing when he saw the red and purple marks around your wrists. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, not for you and not for him. Your body was trembling when he finally cut your hands free and without hesitation gathered you in his arms. It seemed like all the bottled up stress was pouring out of you now with the tears as you cried into his jacket and he held you tighter.

“J-Joel…”

“I know, babygirl,” he whispered into your hair, rocking you both back and forth slightly. You were clinging to him almost desperately and it pained him physically to see how scared you’ve been this whole time, but you were safe now, you were back with him and you were alive… “I know. I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away abruptly and looked over his shoulder, your face crumpling in despair when you saw no one there.

“They took Ellie, I don’t know where–”

“She’s safe,” he quickly assured you. “She got out and I found her just before comin’ here.”

You nodded with a sigh of relief, and he shifted his gaze to your calf, gently laying his hand just above the bandage.

“How’s your leg? Can you walk?”

“One of those fuckers shot me,” you murmured, not moving or attempting to stand up, which concerned Joel. “I didn’t really have a chance to see if I’ll be able to stand on my own but they sewed it up provisionally.” Your eyes flickered to his and you smiled softly, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand. “Not as well as you, though.” Then your smile disappeared and your hand grabbed his in a firm grip, like you wanted to make sure he was really here. “How are you, though? I was… Shit, I was so afraid I’d lose you.”

Joel could only stare at you, having no clue what to say.

He was not good at talking. He knew what he should do, though – he should examine your leg and make sure it was alright, he should go back to Ellie and get you two out of here, he should calm down his goddamn pounding heart so that he doesn’t pass out and cause you any more trouble.

But he couldn’t will his muscles to move. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t think about anything at all – not when you were sitting in front of him, looking at him with those tearful, gorgeous eyes of yours, holding his hand so tenderly but firmly, your touch so soothing, so familiar, and he remembered vaguely the same fingertips caressing his face.

And your voice, those words…

You said his name haltingly, but he didn’t register any of that, instead letting the overwhelming feelings of relief and fear, and – and adoration – take hold over his body, and he affectionately took your beautiful face in his hands.

Your eyes widened slightly but then these irises he dreamt about so often flickered to his lips and your own parted slightly, and that was all he needed before he leaned in and kissed you deeply.

There was a moment of hesitation on your part during which Joel began to worry that he didn’t read the situation right after all, but then you cupped his cheeks, too, and pressed yourself closer to him, letting him envelop your form in his arms with a quiet sigh.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. He could taste a hint of blood on your lips and hot, blinding rage surged through his veins at the thought of those bastards hurting you. His kiss turned harder and more desperate – he needed to make sure you were really here with him, he wanted to feel your every breath in his own lungs. You didn’t pull away, only tangling your fingers in his short hair, and the small noises you were making were driving Joel crazy with lust and relief. He felt dizzy, like he was going to faint again but he pushed through it, keeping his attention solely on you.

The second you two parted, even before you had a chance to catch your breath, the words started spilling out of his mouth fumblingly.

“Listen, I… I heard you,” he whispered, panting like he just ran a mile – and his heart certainly acted like he did. “M’pretty sure I wasn’t halucinatin’, but even if– doesn’t matter, I want… no, I need to tell you this, I…”

He exhaled nervously and shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you because he was damn sure he'd burst into flames if you looked at him like that again.

Fuck, he was really not good at this.

He cursed under his breath, missing a concerned look you gave him, and felt your hand covering his where it was still situated on your cheek. He knew that with this gesture you wanted to make it easier for him somehow, but it only caused his chest to get even warmer and tighter. “Joel, slow down–”

“I… I love you,” he finally choked out, softly brushing your cheekbones with his thumbs. And damn his old, faulty heart, he wanted to gaze into your eyes again, even if it was going to kill him, so that’s exactly what he did. “I loved you for so long, darlin’, and I got so fuckin’ scared that I won’t be able to tell you and, and it’s okay if I only imagined you saying that and you don’t feel that way, but I needed to tell you, I…”

All strength left him when he paused to draw a breath. His vision was becoming blurry and for a second he was certain he’s losing consciousness again, but it turned out they were only tears filling his eyes, blurring your form before him.

Which was even worse, somehow.

“I’m sorry.” He intended to sound reassuring and strong but it came out more like a broken whisper and he hated himself for feeling so weak and helpless when you and Ellie needed comfort and strength. He couldn’t help it though – all this time when he was looking for his girls the only things that kept him going were anger, terror and regret. Now there was relief, yes, but… he felt so very tired and old.

You turned your head slightly to plant a soft kiss on the inside of his palm, and Joel’s head snapped up. Tears were filling your eyes and he immediately scanned your body for other injuries, any signs of damage or pain, but then this gorgeous smile he so loved illuminated your face, and it put all of his anxieties at ease.

“You weren’t hallucinating,” you said quietly. “I did say that. And I love you, too, Joel.”

He couldn’t help a short, breathless and broken laugh that escaped him when he really heard you speaking those words, this time as clearly as day.

You sniffled and mirrored his smile, and in the next second Joel was kissing you again.

He knew you two had to go, had to get back to Ellie and leave this god-forsaken place, so he tried to be quick, but you – your smile, your touch, all of you – were so distracting and not eager to help him pull away in the slightest.

“I love you too, babygirl, love you so much.” He peppered your face with kisses, ignoring tears running down his cheeks and disappearing into his beard and under your hands. “So fuckin’ much… Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Because your old heart can’t handle it?” you teased and he huffed a laugh. A damn tease in every situation, he wanted to say, but before he had a chance to chide you, you pulled him in for another deep kiss. Joel decided you’re off the hook this time.

“Exactly, darlin’. Now hold onto my arm, we’re gonna see if you can stand, and then we’re goin’ back to Ellie.”

A hiss and a grunt of pain escaped you when he attempted to pull you to your feet, but you gritted your teeth and shook your head quickly when he froze, worry evident on his face. Turned out you could stand on your own and even slowly limp forward, but clearly had to push through intense pain to do so. Joel offered you his shoulder (against which his tired body protested immediately) but it made walking easier for you, so he sucked it up.

“I got you,” he whispered when he helped you up the stairs, keeping an arm around your waist for support. You whimpered every time you had to climb up a step, and Joel took hold of your hand, brushing his thumb over your skin lovingly. “That’s a good girl. Just a couple more.”

You didn’t let go of his hand even after these ‘couple more’ steps.

He kept his hand on your shoulder when you finally got reunited with Ellie and tears of relief spilled out of your eyes.

You tangled your fingers with his when the three of you were leaving this cursed, cruel place.

You all held each other when Ellie broke down and you both hugged her tightly, trying to make her feel safe again.

He hooked his little finger over yours, not wanting to drag you down when he started to lean on you, getting significantly weaker from how far he traveled and how hard he fought in the state he was in.

You grasped his hand again that night when you laid down next to him in his sleeping bag while Ellie was curled close to the two of you on Joel’s other side.

He didn’t let go when he leaned in to kiss you again, keeping his touch soft and gentle, and pulled you as close as he could, murmuring words of love and sweet promises into your hair.

Both of you knew you had a lot to talk about in the upcoming days – and probably even weeks. All three of you needed time to heal, physically as well as mentally.

But just for this moment, Joel couldn’t be happier and more relieved as it was slowly dawning on him that after this horrible, hellish nightmare, he had both of you right next to him, breathing and alive, and not chased by anyone for now. Two persons he loved in very different ways, but who were his entire world, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

As if reading his thoughts, you shifted slightly and kissed the edge of his jaw sleepily. His eyes closed, hiding the wetness in them.

He really couldn’t believe his luck.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #5+1 things #joel tlou #it took me SO LONG OMG #beary writes

[motherjoel]

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

-

-

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 

-

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

-

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #Ellie Williams #bella ramsey #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #ellie williams/you #ellie williams/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #pedro pascal/reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller i love you #ellie williams i love you #family family family #cute little baby family

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

From love and life

a/n I feel like we might need some good old fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst. So enjoy! Any sort of interaction is so so so appreciated!🤍🫧

summary: you're heavily pregnant but your medical assistant is needed in a close by town. Emotions run high and a little someone decides to make an appearance, just the timing is not ideal.

Can be read as a part two to A slice of paradise but this is a standalone

warnings: pregnancy, birth descriptions, complicated delivery, blood, yeah...

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The kitchen was dim. The only source of light was the lamp that stood in the living room. The record player lightly filled the space with old tunes as you and Joel swayed in the middle of the kitchen. It was such a rear moment lately. There was so much going on that you two hardly spent time together. Well, now that Joel was refusing to do patrol, he was way more present and even more nagging on your pregnancy brain. Even if it came from the love that he felt for you and the baby, you wish he worried less. But then again, it was easier said than done.

Your arms were lazily draped over your lover's shoulders, head nestled into his chest. Joel's grip on your body was tender. Wearier of you falling by accident, so one of his hands was firmly supporting your back, the other lovingly cupping the side of your bump. As if he were including the babe in your little nighty dance as well. Humming the tune as you two twisted and turned. There was so much love at this moment. So much attentiveness. So much reassurance. That you were in this together. That evening was going to be okay.

Even in Jackson, it was scary to bring a baby into this world. It felt so fragile. In the beginning, it made you feel selfish that you even considered conceiving in circumstances like this. But then there was nothing more that you wanted. You wanted to make Joel a father again. Even if Ellie was your baby girl as it was. You just wanted to give him a chance to raise another one. Because you knew that the fatherly love that he had was endless.

"Sofie?", Joel muttered into the nothingness of the room, and you peeled your head off his chest, shaking your head, "No, no, that's what my neighbor back in Texas was called; she was a.. well, a whore". Joel chuckled slightly and said, "Okay, Sofie gets the chop then". This had been going on for some time now. You two didn't fuss about names at the beginning, but now that you could go into labor in a matter of days, it had become quite a headache. Ellie had presented you with lists of names for both genders. She was excited to become a sister. Well, when her doubts about actually being a part of this family didn't cloud her mind. In all honesty, Ellie's reaction to the news was way more positive than you imagined it to be. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she was suddenly losing her rights as your and Joel's daughter.

"What about Margo?", Joel said, hands resting on your sides now, as you two continued to sway. Something in your stomach almost flusters at the sound of that, and that sensation was quickly followed by a strong kick. Joel's face quickly turned into a pleased smirk. You opened your mouth, but Joel only shook his head, "You don't even have to answer darling, our baby girl agrees," you rolled your eyes at him, "You don't even know if it's a girl," "I do she just picked her name". His hands moved to lift the shirt you were wearing. One of Joel's shirts. Both for comfort and also because it smelled like him—that's what you told Joel when he first saw you in it. Plus, at this point, almost nothing fitted you. And not all occasions were fitting for a flowy dress, even if it made the bump look adorable.

Joel's tender findings rubbed your big bump, "You're a smart little one. You like Margo, Margo Miller, huh?" Joel's attention was fully on the baby now. A baby who was happily kicking inside your tummy. A baby that mostly only kicked for Joel. Already daddy's girl or boy. The bond they built was mind-blowing to you. But then again it didn't surprise you. Joel was by your side as much as he could. He talked, sang, and read stories to the bump almost every night. Not a morning was missed without kisses. This was another source of the proposal for Joel.

"Hate to interrupt you both, but I need a snack", you mumbled, brushing some of the hair from Joel's forehead away, "You are free to continue this upstairs, and you'll be much cozier in bed; bending like that will do a number on your back". Joel looked up at you, pretending to be utterly offended by your words, "Are you calling me old?", "I'm calling it snack break that leads to bed break", you gave him a bright smile before turning to search for a jar of pickles. Joel watched you happily munching, a proud smile on his face.

You were wobbling around the kitchen, adding refills of eggs and pancakes to Ellie's plate, when you heard a knock on the door. Joel was quick to move the chair, but you placed a hand on his shoulder, mumbling a quick I got this before moving towards it. "Tommy?", it came out more surprised than it should have, but then again, he rarely came by so early and in the middle of the week as well. The younger Miller glanced towards Joel. Swallowing worriedly, you could feel a sense of dread there. "Did something happen?", you asked, moving to rest your hand on his upper arm. Tommy exhaled carefully, "You might want to kill me, but let me…", "Get to it", Joel said firmly, not breaking eye contact with his brother. "There's an emergency in the nearby town. They don't have a medic good enough", Tommy's eyes were on you now, but Joel cut in firmly, "No".

You speared him no mind though, asking, "What happened?". You had been a medic before the outbreak. It had always been your passion, not just a job. So even the fact that the world fell apart didn't stop you from wanting to help those in need. "I'm not sure, but it's a boy, and he's five at best", he continued, but Joel shook his head. "Don't try to guilt-trip her", "Joel", you warned your lover firmly. "I'm not, but you don't have to; maybe you could just talk to them on the radio?" This had to be serious if Tommy was here in the first place. And the look on his face clearly showed that the morning hasn't been easy for him.

"Get the horses ready", you said softly, "Over my dead body are you riding", Joel was up and walking towards you now. "Rode, you just the other night didn't seem to complain then", you bit back, shooting him an angry look. Ellie snorted while keeping her head down, trying not to catch too much attention, but Joel's glare still landed on her. Messing with Joel in moments like this was dangerous. This man loved his family more than he loved his life. Nothing could stand in his way. And the one who tried never survived long.

"Y/N", he said firmly, "Joel", you repeated the manner. "You're eight months pregnant; this is out of the question", he tried to reason, but in the same way as him, you were stubborn. And if you set your mind on something, making you back away was almost impossible. "You are free to stay, old man", turning to Tommy, you nodded quickly, "Go, get them ready for me, will ya?". Tommy nodded and wasted no time as he slipped out of the house. He knew that Joel's scolding would come sooner or later, but for now, he was thankful to be off the hook.

"Love", Joel's tone was smoother and calm now, as he reached for your arms. You understood his worries, and yes, you were close to giving birth, but the ride was not that long, and you felt just fine. "Joel, I ain't leaving that kid to die", His jaw tightened as he searched your eyes. Now silently pleading for you to skip this one. "You're coming along or staying here?", Joel just shook his head, still frustrated, but he said nothing. Moving towards the stairs to pack a light backpack You knew the frustration would wear off eventually. With time.

"Can I join?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. "If you want to", you told her. The area was safe and closely monitored. The trade roads were extremely important. At times, exchanging supplies was a crucial part of surviving. "Cool family trip! Like the old days", Ellie chirped. You couldn't help but crack a smile at it. It was quite a trip you all had. Coming to Jackson wasn't easy. It seemed like forever ago now. Yet the incidents lingered in the back of your mind. It still felt too good at times. Well, even the fact that you were pregnant now was a clear indication of how everything had changed. Back in QZ you and Joel were extremely careful. To get pregnant, there was a way to end up in a grave. Here in Jackson, however, it was more than possible.

The boy had an open fracture in his shoulder. A lucky one. An inch lower, and it would have pierced his heart. He was in a critical condition when you got there, but you didn't let your mind slip even for a second. Calm and collected. Not the slightest shake of your fingers. Only when he was laying in between the clean sheets did you let your mind slip, hand resting on your bump as you watched his chest move up and down. The sound of his mother's cries still swirling in your brain. How easy was it to lose someone you loved? Didn't need to be infected even. Anything could happen.

A hand that slipped on your shoulder made you jump. You turned to your side upon seeing Joel there. Your body instantly eased. Joel was scared the whole time you were in the operating room. He didn't move from the little window. Eyes watching you as you worked. Every minute that you stayed up on your feet made him more and more tense. This wasn't okay. You were too far along in your pregnancy to operate for three hours. Your body needed rest, not this. Only now did you realize how tired you were. But you couldn't show it. No, Joel would worry too much, and this was already far too much worrying for one day. So you squeezed his hand firmly before standing up.

You and Ellie were walking through the forest. Well, you were wobbling. Walking properly wasn't an option any longer. Joel was behind you both once again, keeping a close eye on you. You suggested you walked for a bit midway through the ride. Joel gave you a questionable look but nodded his head regardless. "So they just grow like this?", asked Ellie, looking at the bush that was covered in blueberries. You nodded your head, "They do. As a kid, I loved going into the forest to pick berries". It's been quite sometime now that she was a part of your life, but no matter how many stories you told her, Ellie still found things that surprised her.

You encouraged her to reach for the berry. Watching as her eyes gaped as the sweet taste hit her tongue. "Can we get some and make a pie or something?", she asked as she reached for another handful. You smiled at her softly, "Of course we ca-ahh,", you crunched forward. Bracing yourself on the tree that was by your side. Joel's steps picked up as he moved closer to you. Ellie's big eyes watched you. "Mom,", she asked worriedly, even if the tight look on your face eased. Joel's fingers wrapped around your forearms, steadying you. "It's nothing, guys; no one needs to worry", you said. Cupping the material of the long fabric beneath your bump for extra support. "You should sit down for a minute", Joel looked around, trying to find a place for you to rest somewhat comfortably.

"There's no need", you tried to sound calm, but another wave of pain hit you, making you grip Joel's hands. Ellie looked at Joel now. Worry seeped through her because even if she knew little about things like this, it didn't seem like nothing to her. "Y/N…", Joel rasped out himself, trying to undress what was happening. But you knew this wasn't nothing. Because you began to feel strange the moment you arrived in the nearby town. Then the pain picked up during the operation, but you were able to breathe through it. It didn't bother you all too much. You were sure you were good once it eased, but then you couldn't seem to sit on the horse as the pressure and pain increased. You knew this was something more.

"Don't get mad", you said through gritted teeth as the pain slowly eased, "I just… I felt", but it seemed like your baby was more than eager to do the speaking for itself as a warm trickle of liquid started to slowly trail down your legs. The material of your dress dampened. Another breathy exhale caught in your throat as you hissed. Joel moved an arm around your middle, "I fucking told you, shit", "Don't be like that", Ellie warned him quickly. Stress was not what you needed now, yet Joel didn't budge, "Like what? We're in the middle of the woods, and Y/N's water just broke". "Joel," you cried out in pain once more, both hands holding onto your tight stomach as even more liquid rushed down your legs.

"Fuck okay, come here", Joel told you, but you didn't want him to pick you up. "Dad ", Ellie rasped out, "It's okay, everything's okay, we'll figure this out". Joel wasn't sure if he believed it, but he had to. Someone had to. "Can you sit on a horse?", he questioned, but you shook your head straight away. His mind was blanking out for him. Heart racing. This was not how you were supposed to give birth. "I saw a cabin on the way here. It… was just over the valley", Ellie spoke up again, Joel nodded his head. This was the best chance you had because there was no way he was getting you to Jackson in time, "Lead the way, kiddo".

Joel lowered you just by the patio. He needed to go in first and make sure there was no one there. No infected, no raiders. That it was safe. Ellie felt like she was going to grow gray as she watched you grip the railing. She had seen Joe getting stabbed; she had been through so much shit. Put bullets through people's heads, but somehow nothing compares to this and the fear of losing you. "Hey, look at me", you caught Ellie's hand, "It's going to be okay", you rubbed your finger over her palm. "But what if you or the baby… we have no proper…", she rambled on, "Ellie, darling, it's okay". You could only imagine how scary this seemed to her. Considering that she had never seen anyone in a position like this.

"Your sibling is just slightly more excited to meet you", you chuckled slightly, and a little smile broke onto her face as well. "I'd rather she stayed in your stomach till we returned". You hummed at her words, "Funny thing about babies is they don't listen". She breathed with you through the next contraction. Doing and saying the things that she heard Joel say while you were making your way here. "Mom?", Ellie questioned once more as your face eased, "Everything will be okay, right?", you gave her the best smile you could manage, "Of course, babe."

But everything was far from being great. Joel had pulled an old mattress from the other room and placed it next to the fire that was burning in the fireplace. Ellie was anxiously changing the cold, wet cloth on your forehead as you panted rapidly, holding onto Joel's hand. They both felt helpless. Not sure how to soothe or help. The pain was evident on your face, and if at the start you could still speak between the sharp shooting daggers that ripped through you, now it seemed that you barely managed to even take a breath in between them.

Joel moved so he was kneeling between your parted legs. "Breath, love, you need to take proper breaths", his hand moved up and down your thigh, "Remember how we practiced?", you weakly nodded your head, "Of course you do, you're a trooper", "You need to check me," your hand moved towards your thigh. Joel shrugged off his jacket, quickly rolling up his sleeves. You probably would have told him how good he looked like this. But unfortunately for you, the pain was now the center of your consciousness. Joel gave you one more look as if he was asking for permission, and his hand slipped between your legs. "I feel it. I feel the head", he said firmly, and you nodded your head.

The progress was slow, or more like there was none. Your breathing grew more and more labored, yet no matter how much you pushed, it seemed to lead you nowhere, and the energy was slowly starting to leave your body. "Something isn't right", you muttered after another wave had eased. You had started to shake slightly. "What do you mean?", Joel asked you worryingly. Suddenly it all becomes awfully real to Joel. You could easily die. This could easily lead to him to losing you both. And with the amount of blood on the white material… Joel didn't need to have a medical education to know that this wasn't right.

"Tell me what to do", he tried to meet your eyes, but they seemed frantic. The panic was more than discouraging. No, Joel wasn't going to lose you both. That wasn't an option. "Y/N, look at me," he said as he moved closer to you, "We're going to do this". Joel turned to Ellie briefly, "You think you could find your way back to Jackson, kiddo?" Ellie nodded her head rapidly. She had helped as much as she could. Joel tried to keep her away from the blood, but he could do nothing about the screams and clear agony that you were in. "Okay, you need to go get the midwife and Tommy here", Ellie only managed to nod again. She was shaky and scared. But then again, in the same way as Joel, she couldn't lose you. With one last look at you, Ellie darted out, nearly falling off the stairs as she reached for the horse.

"Help me up. The gravity….", you muttered. Joel reached for your hands, pulling you up, before moving to stand against your back. You were all covered in sweat. Your lower half was drenched. You could feel the blood drying on your thighs and cracking as you moved. Please, you thought to yourself. If this went on any further, you were going to faint. Your body felt heavy. You could barely hold onto your knees as you pushed.

"I don't think I can…", you whispered, once Joel helped you to your knees. "Of course, you can", Joel said firmly, but you still shook your head, "This is my fault". But this time Joel cupped your face, making you look at him, "We're bringing this baby into the world, and you two will be just fine. I've got you. I'm with you. I believe in you" he said, leaning his forehead onto your damp one. Joel took a moment to breathe. You needed him to be strong now. He needed to be your rock.

You pushed and pushed, and minutes melted into what felt like endless nothingness. Joel's voice guided you through it all. You had no clue how he managed it, but he was holding onto one of your legs, giving you extra support to press onto something as you pushed. While the other occasionally slipped behind you, to help you push up. "Come on, one more, mama. One more", Joel's hand rested behind the infant's head as he looked back up at you, "Give me one big one, and we'll be a family of four". You did just that. With a deep breath, you pushed with all that you had left. Yet another scream ripped past your lips, and the pressure suddenly eased as your head fell back onto the mattress.

Joel quickly pulled the baby up as the loudest cry filled the living room. He couldn't help a smile; he couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes. Joel reached for his jacket, quickly wrapping the babe in it, and rocking it gently. "Hello, gorgeous, look at your cries", he cooed at the newest Miller for a moment before his eyes moved up to look at your tired face that was now covered in tears as well. "So…", you trailed off as Joel leaned over to you so he could rest the baby on your chest. "Dad had a good intuition", he teased, and you felt another wave of tears coming. "A girl", you muttered, looking down at the pruny baby in your arms. "Oh, you sweet angel", your finger carefully traced her cheek, "As stubborn as her mom too". Joel moved behind you, making sure that you were comfortable as you rested against his chest. "She has your eyes", you muttered, looking up at your lover, who looked down at you lovingly. "Can you believe that we made her?", he asked. You shook your head, "I'm still mortified that this is a dream".

The sudden noises outside made you both perk up. Joel reached for the gun, pointing it straight at the door. Just as breathless Ellie fell into the room. Behind her, a dark-haired lady rushed into the living room. Smiling at the sight of the baby bundled up in your arms, "Look at you three, good job, and congratulations". Lydia was the main midwife in Jackson. She cupped your cheeks, stealing a glance at the baby before moving to look at the mattress.

"Check her first, Lydia,", you asked her, but the lady only shook her head, "No, darling girl, you're still bleeding, and the baby with lungs like that is more than healthy". You wanted to argue, but the chaos of the room suddenly made you feel dizzy. Your mouth went dry. "You two, baby, and Ellie, out of the room now", the midwife pointed quickly to the two Miller brothers. "What's going on?", Joel asked, yet no one answered him as Lydia pulled your body up and away from Joel. Only now did Joel see how pale you were. But Maria placed the baby into his arms before pushing them all out of the room.

Joel's worries didn't die. They were clouding his brain. You were fine just a moment ago. You talked and… But then he saw Ellie's big eyes searching the room. She looked so small. So lost and so scared. "El", Joel called out lovingly, making her snap her head towards him, "Want to see your sister?". A long-lost sparkle gleamed in Ellie's eyes. "A girl?", she muttered under her breath. "Margo. Unless your mom changes her mind", Ellie stepped closer, careful as ever. As if too big a step might harm the baby somehow. Her hands stayed by her side as she looked at the baby in Joel's arms. "She needs a bath", Ellie muttered, Joel laughed slightly, "Yeah, we can give her one after", she nodded, her eyes never leaving the infant.

"Can I… I don't have to", she trailed off, "Come here, make sure you support her head", Joel made room on the rundown sofa that was in the room they were rushing into. Ellie's arms were stiff. She stopped her breathing for a moment. "She's so tiny… Hi", the baby grasped onto her finger, making Ellie look up at Joel as if she was asking if this was okay, but he only smiled at her. "You reckon she knows who I am?", Ellie asked. Joel leaned in to kiss the side of her head. "After all the dance parties you had and the cookies you made? I think you are already best friends". Ellie nodded her head in approval, yet her eyes darted to the door and asked, "And mom?".

Here was where Joel didn't know what to say. He wanted to reassure her but he couldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on. What if you were dead? A cold shiver ran down his back. No, you couldn't. His chest started to grow heavy all of a sudden. But the door swung open, and Joel had stood up at lightning speed. "Lydia,", he called out, bracing himself for the worst, but the old lady just gave him a warm smile. "She lost a bit more blood, but everything is okay. She's all cleaned up; you three should head to her", Joel practically sank to the floor as those words filled his mind. Whoever was guarding him was working overtime. He turned to Ellie, but she was already walking through the door with Margo in her hands. "You did a good job", Lydia squeezed Joel's hand, "Go have some family time with your girls".

Ellie was nestled by your side, silent tears falling down her cheeks as you held her close. Joel stepped in as quietly as he could, but his eyes instantly found yours. You gave him a weak smile. You knew he could tell just how tired you were. "I'm so outnumbered by females now," he said as he sat down by your other side. Moving your hand to his lips as he kissed it. He nudged Ellie slightly, feeling even more ease slip through his body as she giggled. "You're destined to be a girl, dad", you muttered, running your hand up and down the baby's back as she started to fuss.

"I think someone's hungry", you said, trying to get more comfortable. Joel instantly stood up so he could pull you up slightly, reaching for a spear blanket before putting it behind the makeshift pillow. The suckling noises filled the space within seconds, as Margo happily latched on. Her tiny fist flexed in the air. Ellie instantly moved her finger for Margo to grasp; her tiny fingers wrapped around it, and her fussing eased as she ate.

Joel just watched you three, his hand resting on your thigh. This was both the scariest and most beautiful experience ever. He got to bring his baby girl into the world. He had missed Sarah's birth back then. Only got to see her wrapped up in a pink blanket hours later. It had eaten at him for years. He knew he wanted to be here this time. There was no doubt, and now, after everything, he thought that it couldn't have been more perfect.

"You're okay?", your fingers squeezed his thigh gently, making him turn to you. "Yeah, just thinking about how perfect you are and how much I love you all", you couldn't help but smile, mumbling a quick I love you back to him. It was Ellie who was struck by those words the most. She knew that you both loved her. You had told her that many times, but Joel had never directly spoken about it. "I love you all as well", she mumbled back. Joel glanced at her as he reached for her hand.

"You reckon we could all fit on this", you spoke up after a minute, already starting to feel tired again. "I take the left side", Ellie said quickly, once again moving closer to you. "Who said we're allowed to call dibs", Joel questioned teasingly. "You snooze, you lose", she stuck out her tongue as you brushed some of the hair away from her face. "There's plenty of space for everyone to get a cuddle", you said softly as Joel slipped behind you, your body melted into his tender chest. One of his hands sneaked behind yours so he could support Margo, who was still feasting. Joel pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Life had both taken away from him, but then gave him so much more. His other hand rested on Ellie's back protectively. This was both empowering and crippling at the same time. Between Joel's arms was his whole world. World that was made up of you three. His biggest treasure. His most prized possession.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :) 

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

x

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad. 

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated. 

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion? 

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home. 

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

x

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.” 

x

@meli-blacky @zaweashtonslover @3zae-zae3 @bbciwp @cloudroomblog @white-wolf-buckaroo​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @myboyfriendisbigfoot​ @mell-bell​ @hummusxx​ @sleepdeprived-barelyalive​ @dilfsaremyfavourite​ @specialagentmonkey​ @slutforstark @lizlil​ @unsaiduglywords​ @ellaprime7​ @aphrcdites​ @zynbsblog​ @imonmykneessir​ @mandowhatnow​ @tomorrowseverything @livelovemusic0996 @icarusthefoolish​ @b-bloop @leemirna​ @hexaecana​ @littleshadow17​ @sgt-morgan​ @adorreeabbie @abbiesxox​ @leviackrmnss​ @eternallyvenus​ @hai-kbai​ @daydreamerblues​ @abbyrxx12-blog @montenegroisr​ @chxosunbound​ @shqwqrma​ @littlemissporter @wonwoosthetic @riri53 @softsakusas​ @prettysbliss​ @katiemars @kik51199 @stupidthoughtsinwriting​ @ellele19 @newavenger @19891213​ @dgraysonss​

#joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x daughter!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x niece!reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #the last of us imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader

[futureman]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson. 

A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot 

You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face. 

You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way. 

She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth. 

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh. 

“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”

You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”

“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”

You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up. 

“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”

She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest. 

She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”

You choke a bit on your coffee.

Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”

She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”

“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”

“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”

You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”

“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”

Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for. 

But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far. 

Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father. 

He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small. 

And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.

“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”

“What if I’m busy?”

“I know you’re not.”

You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease. 

She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”

“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.

She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”

“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?  

She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you. 

“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”

“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”

“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”

She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs. 

“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”

She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”

“Sarah!”

~~~

Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance. 

You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls. 

The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends. 

She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”

She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you. 

He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry. 

Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention. 

“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter. 

She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”

She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.

“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”

He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”

“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”

He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”

You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”

A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”

You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”

He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions. 

“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”

You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”

Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”

He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”

“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”

His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”

You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.

He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly. 

“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.

“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”

You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”

“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing. 

He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to. 

He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”

You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.

It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute. 

“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”

“We’re watching the students more closely.” 

“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.

His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”

You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”

Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people. 

You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile. 

You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”

“Desperately,” he laughs. 

“He told me you said I’m pretty.”

Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”

“So he’s telling the truth?”

His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”

“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again. 

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”

You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”

He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment. 

Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it. 

Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up. 

“People are looking,” you whisper. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you care what they think?”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”

“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo. 

You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”

He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”

“Think I’m too heavy?”

“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”

“You’re like 35, Joel.”

“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers. 

Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room. 

The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”

“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”

“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips. 

After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps. 

You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it. 

A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him. 

“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”

You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat. 

“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.” 

The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down. 

“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”

“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”

You freeze.

“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”

Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened. 

Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning. 

“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.” 

She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go. 

Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile. 

“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”

“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.

You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”

You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist. 

Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”

The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”

He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction. 

Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands. 

Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them. 

His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again. 

He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone. 

Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”

You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath. 

Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely. 

“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together. 

He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”

Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”

You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”

“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously. 

You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~

“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror. 

Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words. 

Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs. 

You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly. 

He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”

She nods and hops out, running towards the house.

Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”

You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”

“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”

You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now. 

You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile. 

The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”

“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”

Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”

“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder. 

Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile softly. 

They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts. 

You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you. 

You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes. 

You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away. 

You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.

“Found what you needed?” 

You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”

He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”

His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”

He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”

You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”

“Him?” his eyebrows raise.

You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”

He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same. 

“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”

Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”

He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.

“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”

His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened. 

“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened. 

“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”

“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”

He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”

Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”

“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”

You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”

He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”

You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”

“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face. 

“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen. 

“I was very proud,” he grinned. 

“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”

“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”

The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again. 

“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”

“What’s there to talk about about?”

You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”

He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”

You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you. 

“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”

“Guilty bout what?”

“For moving on.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”

Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too. 

Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice. 

Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both. 

“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”

You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you. 

“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer. 

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”

You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully. 

“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”

“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back. 

“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”

You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.

“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin. 

He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”

You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other. 

“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest. 

You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly. 

“Impatient, are we?”

You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”

Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again. 

“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”

You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”

He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours

When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. 

Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again. 

You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss. 

“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers. 

He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”

You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.

“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth. 

You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.

Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat. 

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again. 

He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.

You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.

This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment. 

Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.

“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”

You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.

You whimper and his movements slow as do yours, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. 

You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.

As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.

“Will you go out… with me?” Joel says sweetly, kissing your temples. “That usually comes first but we- I…”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a soft kiss, “The answer is always yes.”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a press of your lips quietly, “Yes. The answer is always yes.”

Joel rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Your chests heaving, out of breath but happy. Everything you both have wanted for a long, long time, laying right in front of each other. 

“Can I...” he searches your face, face red and nervous you’ll say no even when you’re in his arms. “Can I take you out tomorrow? I usually do that before this, but we just... I-”

You interrupt with a kiss, his new favorite thing, whispering, “Yes, Joel. The answer is always yes.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #fanfiction #smut #bella ramsey #ellie the last of us #ellie

[aurorawritestoescape]

ALWAYS AND FOREVER || 1,6k

post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comes home after a hard day on patrol and you comfort him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, ANGST, m/f masturbation, mention of somno, mention of canon typical violence, mention of death. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic.

A/n: written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. color: Joel’s denim shirt. genre: hurt/comfort. prompt: "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Aly, you creative genius, thank you for hosting such a fun event! Also sending you kisses and hugs for the gif in my mb! Love you, baby!♥️ Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic💕

MASTERLIST

*****

Joel stomps through the bedroom door, growling and mumbling obscenities under his breath. He’s tense, every nerve is an open wire, every unexpected sound makes him flinch and grit his teeth. He’s tired, lack of sleep painted his skin gray and his beard is all patchy. He looks like shit.

“What is it, Joel?” You ask sitting on your favorite spot on the bed, the left side, which is closer to the window and to the sun that is a rare sight in autumn here. Joel often laughed at you calling you a cat for your love to lie there, basking in the sunshine or napping. And you loved taking naps so much. When Ellie, Joel and you came to Jackson and settled, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet afternoon sleep.

Sometimes Joel would snuggle up to you, spooning your sleeping body, enveloping you like a big warm cloud. Many times you’d wake up to his lips moaning in your ear and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, your body already vibrating on the verge of climax. You loved it. You loved him and he loved you.

“What is it?” You sing the question, repeating it again. His frustration, annoyance, anger or whatever else that ruined his day is about to spill everywhere, staining every corner of this house, and you need to stop it, defuse the bomb that’s about to explode.

“Nothing,” he drops in your direction, not looking at you and you sigh. He untucks his flannel shirt and strides to the bathroom. He doesn’t wash his hands and face right away. His eyes are boring into his own reflection, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles whiten. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he roars and elbows the mirror, shattering it into pieces.

“You hurt?” You ask quietly, standing in the doorframe, hands clasped shyly in front of you. You’re wearing his denim shirt and panties, nothing else.

His head whips in your direction and there are tears in his beautiful brown eyes, bloodshot from his constant insomnia.

You furrow your brows and step into the little room. He raises his hands, trying to stop you from walking on the glass-littered floor but drops them, seeing your bare feet gracefully step between the remnants of the mirror.

When you’re close you look up into his pained face and put your palm on his elbow, the one he just jammed into the wall. He doesn’t flinch.

“Wash your hands and come to bed. Please,” you ask quietly and reach up kissing his lips.

He does what you’ve asked him. He always did. He trusted you like no one else in this goddamn world. Maybe only Ellie and Tommy.

Joel sits on the bed next to you and you make him lie down, your hands applying light pressure on his tired shoulders.

He exhales feeling the frustration and rage leave his body already, bit by bit. He wants to pull you to him, hug you, kiss you but like a ray of sun you slip away from his fingers. He watches you get up and walk to the window.

His gaze catches the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from under his shirt and he already feels his jeans getting too restrictive for his stiffening cock.

“Pull it out,” you tell him, quiet dominance in your voice, after you turn around and perch your ass on the window sill. He looks at you with defiance at first, always ready to object, but your sweet smile makes his hands dart down to unzip his jeans. You pull down your panties and take them off.

The only thing you have on now is his old denim shirt, worn out and soft, the one you stole from him years ago. You’re unclasping it now, fingers quick and sure and he watches you, palming his throbbing cock through his boxers.

You leave the shirt open and he sees a valley between your breasts and your belly. He catches a glimpse of your pussy and takes a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, Joel,” you ask with a soft and sultry tone, the one that makes his cock twitch every time he hears it. His name on your lips is like a balm for his restless soul and he places it somewhere deep for later to use, to remember.

He finally pulls his boxers down and takes out his semi hard cock. You inhale deeply and give him a little smile.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” you purr, lifting on leg and placing your foot on the window pane, “Relax for me.”

Your pussy is exposed to him now and his hungry gaze latches on your blooming flower while he’s holding his breath.

“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart,” he pleads before spitting into his palm. He wraps it around his girthy cock and starts slowly moving it up and down.

Your hand resting on your inner thigh slides to your center and with two of your fingers you spread your folds to show him your glistening pussy.

“Hnggg,” Joel groans, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock into his own huge fist.

“Wanna taste you, baby,” he rasps, eyes pleading under the bushy eyebrows.

You shake your head lightly, giving him a warm smile and start rubbing your clit. Joel’s watching you and pumping his cock faster, the skin on his hand wet with precum, his moans accompanied by your soft whimpers. Your chest is heaving and the denim shirt opens up, exposing your breasts.

“Make yourself feel good, my love,” his voice is quiet and full of love.

The hand on your pussy gets busy, as you’re plunging your fingers into your crying hole and move them in and out with the rhythm of his cock fucking his tight fist.

The other hand kneads your breasts, tugs on your pebbled nipples.

His hungry gaze desperately darts between your face, tits, belly, pussy. The vision of you, weaved into the golden light from the window behind you, brings tears to his eyes. He wishes he could take a picture, draw you like this, capture this image and store it forever behind his eyelids. Joel grips his cock tighter at the base, delaying his release for a few moments. He’s getting drunk on the sight in front of him, insatiable and already thirsty for more.

Joel is happy to forget about everything for these few minutes, his mind occupied by your fingers being pushed deeper into your sweet cunt, your face twisted with pleasure, back arched and legs trembling. He can hear how wet your pussy is.

Soon a climax takes over you as you freeze for a second before waves of pleasure shake your body making you cry out his name only for his ears,

“Joel!”

He wishes you screamed it coming on his cock and his cum spurted deep inside your pussy instead of all over his belly and hand like his pulsating cock is doing now.

You sniff, eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he smiles, recognizing your telltale sign of a satisfying orgasm.

“C’mere, crybaby,” he whispers with a tired smile, wiping his spilled cum with the hem of his shirt.

You’re next to him in a second, lying on your stomach, arms folded on his broad chest, your chin resting over them.

“My sweet girl.”

His gaze showers you with warmth and adoration, arms itching to hold you, lips - to kiss.

“What happened, Joel?” Your piercing eyes are searching for the answer in his face. He takes a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, trying to quiet the rage, rising from the pits of his stomach again.

“We were on patrol. Me and this new kid. Dumbass! I told him to be careful but the asshole didn’t wait for me… rushed into the house when I specifically told him to wait…Found him on the floor, fighting a clicker. Bastard was lucky I was there on time. Shot the damn thing just before it bit his fucking face off.”

“In that house?” You ask quietly and he nods.

You sigh and climb a little higher on the bed and plant a kiss on his weathered lips. He averts his eyes embarrassed by the smell of whiskey you must have noticed but you smile and cup his scruffy cheek.

“You saved him. I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He closes his eyes, comforted by the softness of your touch, by your praise and he feels his soul healing a little. But the memories flood his mind and a second later his serenity shutters again.

“Yeah, I did. I saved him,” he rasps looking deep into your eyes, “but I didn’t save you.”

A tear slides down his cheek and you kiss it away. You pepper kisses over his eyes, nose, lips and then search for his sad eyes and speak softly,

“You can’t save everyone, Joel.”

“I don’t give a shit about everyone,” he snaps, fire waking up behind his eyes again, “I care about you. And I fucking lost you.”

His eyes are pleading for a miracle, tracing your slightly blurry features, but you can’t make it happen.

“You didn’t lose me, Joel, I’m right here,” you purr against his cheek, before taking his face in your hands. Your love is so strong, Joel can swear he feels their warmth on his skin.

“It’s gonna be ok, Joel. You’re gonna be ok. You have people who love you. Ellie, Tommy. And you have me. Always will.”

Joel nods and wishes he could see you longer but the exhaustion takes over and soon he falls into deep relaxing sleep, lulled and comforted by the ghost of you.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed the fic. Your feedback motivates me so much!♥️

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #writing challenge 2.0 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

[atinylittlepain]

Hiya! I love your writing so much it's amazing. Can I request Joel and Reader! smut? Maybe angry s3x? I loveeeee grumpy Joel. They would def be primal and rough and fast about it too...oof. I'm not too good at coming up with plotlines haha

Anyways thank you so much if you do! :3

oof, this was fun to write

gif by @tightjeansjavi

Menace

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

When Joel refuses to join her at the bar, she has a good time by herself. But he just can't stay away.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, rough sex, little angst, little fluff, mostly just smut tho

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

If Joel were here right now, she knows he wouldn’t like the looks of things one bit. Not because she’s in any sort of danger, the only real danger at the Tipsy Bison is whatever that cheap grog is that they keep stewing in the back. No, what Joel wouldn’t like to see is her having a good time, for once, without him. And that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

It’s a Friday night in Jackson, a town in which she can actually enjoy the luxury of having a real Friday night after a long week of patrol shifts. Joel, in all his brooding glory, had rejected her invitation to go out to the bar, telling her that all he wanted was some “fucking peace and quiet.” She hadn’t let that get her down, though, scoffing at his petulant grumbles and heading out by herself. And she was having a damn good time too.

“Goddamn, girl. Giving me a run for my money.” She grins at the man, idly spinning her cue stick in her hands as she walks along the pool table. 

“You better shape up then, or you’re gonna owe me another drink.” The man throws his head back in a laugh at that, his eyes crinkling up as he looks at her. His name is Teddy, one of the younger men around town who also works patrol shifts. She had a shift with him earlier in the week, and he had been warm and welcoming to her, still pretty new to the swing of things. It doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s flirting with her, and she’s happy to play along for now, knowing she’s got her grump of a man waiting for her back home, probably snoring in bed already. Love is strange, but she is Joel’s and he is most certainly hers, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But for now, a little banter with this sweet boy isn’t going to hurt anyone.

“Watch and learn, Teddy. I’m gonna show you how it’s done.” The man whistles low as she bends over the table, lining her cue stick up with her target. So what if she’s hamming it up a bit? Shimmying her hips and flicking her hair out of her face. A small crowd has gathered around the table to watch her smoke this kid, and she’s enjoying the feeling of letting loose after being tensed up for so long.

She moves cool and slick around the table, driving home her last three balls before setting her sights on the eightball. It looks like a tough shot, and she revels in her confidence that she can sink it, feeling Teddy’s eyes sweeping down the slope of her back as she arches over the table. There’s a hushed swell of laughter and a few whoops when she hits the eightball clean into a pocket, and she turns and shoots Teddy a crooked smile.

“Pay up, boy. I want the good stuff this time, top shelf only.” Teddy barks out another laugh, but it quickly dissolves as his eyes flit just behind her. She feels him before she sees him, the solid warmth of him pressing up behind her and a broad palm splaying over her shoulder. He’s certainly not snoring in bed.

“You’ll have to take a rain check, son. She’s needed at home right now.” The low rasp of his voice tells her all she needs to know. He saw her, and the little moves she was making, and now, Joel Miller is pissed.

She can see the bob of Teddy’s throat as he swallows, nodding jerkily. She winces at the crack in his voice when he says that’s alright, he’ll see her around. Joel may be a grump, but he’s also a scary grump when he wants to be, like right about now as he’s steering her out of the bar with his hand still on her shoulder.

“Putting on a little show for all them townsfolk, darlin?” His southern drawl always gets headier, slower, when he’s angry. It’s never a good sign when she starts having a hard time pulling his honey-thick words apart. But she refuses to let him intimidate her, huffing as they trudge through town toward their house.

“It was just a little fun, Joel. I know you’re not too familiar with the concept, but—”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that, darlin. Me and you? We’re about to have a whole lot of fun.” So it’s like that. She can’t help the excited shiver that runs up her spine at his words, heat already starting to lick at her core. She’s known him long enough to know that when Joel is pissed at her, it can only go one of two ways. Sometimes, he’ll shut down and sulk off, keeping his distance until he’s gotten some sense back in his body to come talk to her. But other times, his anger flirts over into a jagged lust, only simmering to cool when they’re both too sore to bitch at each other anymore, a heaving tangle of sweat and pleasure. And judging by the hard flush she can see peeking out of his shirt collar as they get home, she’d put money on this being one of those other times.

The instant the front door closes behind her, he’s pressing her back up against it, swallowing her gasp as he licks into her mouth. She presses her palms into his chest to try to get some space, but he’s immovable, dragging his lips down her neck and nudging the collar of her shirt out of the way to suck searing bruises into her collarbone. She tugs harshly at his hair to get him to finally take a breath.

“Hey, hey. What about Ellie?” 

“At Dina’s.” And with those few gruff, syllables, he’s back on her, shoving his jean-clad thigh between her legs and pressing up hard into her core, her hips immediately grinding down to seek any kind of relief to the quick-building heat blooming up her spine. 

“You’re something else, you know that? Saw you acting so tough, so cool down at the bar.” His words are a smear across her chest as he works the buttons of her shirt open, dipping down to mouth at the fabric of her bra the moment he gets access, her back arching up into his mouth as she lets out a long sigh of his name. He chuckles into her skin.

“None of them know how sweet you get like this, though. S’just for me, right?” She chokes on a breath as his hand wrenches down the front of her jeans, rough fingers swiping through the slick pooling between her folds. He drags his nose up her cheek as he works one, then two of his fingers into her, her knees buckling when he crooks his digits just so, her cunt clenching hard.

“Asked you a question, darlin. Who’s all this for, huh?” His fingers are pumping into her relentlessly, the squelching noise of each thrust embarrassingly lewd and loud. It’s all she can do to give him a response.

“You– it’s all for you– fuck– only for you– it’s– just you– please–” He laughs, the smug bastard, smearing a kiss to her temple as he continues to fuck her with his fingers, the heel of his palm digging just right into her clit.

“That’s right, baby. S’all for me. Think you can give me one just like this? C’mon, know you can. Be good for me. Just for me.” He doesn’t have to tell her twice, her cunt already spasming around his fingers as she lets out a broken cry, pleasure crashing over her in ebbs and flows as he fucks her through it. He finally relents when her preening whines turn into whimpers, pulling his hand away and sucking his fingers into his mouth as she slumps back against the door.

She’s a complete mess, her shirt hanging loosely off her arms, the cups of her bra shoved down to let her tits spill out, while Joel stands before her still fully clothed, a contrast that sets heat simmering in her belly all over again. She closes the gap between them this time, pressing in for a demanding kiss as she shrugs her shirt off the rest of the way, fumbling behind her back to snap the clasp of her bra open as well. Joel’s hands are on her right away, palming the swell of her tits before squeezing just harshly enough to make her gasp into his mouth, her fingers stuttering where she was working on the buttons of his shirt. He seems to get the hint, swatting her hands away from his half undone shirt and tugging it the rest of the way off by the collar. 

“I need you right now, darlin. Got me fucking aching here.” 

They’re a stumbling swirl of limbs as they fumble upstairs to their bedroom, banging into walls and slamming doors along the way. 

He gets her exactly where he wants her, on all fours at the end of the bed, and she yelps as he wrenches her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cranes her neck over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of him, his jeans rucked down just enough for him to free his cock as he fists himself over her, his other palm kneading the swell of her ass. He nudges his swollen tip through her folds and she shivers at the sensation, trying to press her hips back into him to get more of anything. Joel doesn’t seem to like that though, laying a harsh smack to her ass that makes her nearly jump out of his hold.

“Mind your manners, darlin. Don’t get greedy on me.” She huffs, trying to look back over her shoulder at him but he presses a rough palm between her shoulder blades, forcing her back to bow until she’s collapsing onto her arms, cheek smushed into the sheets. 

He presses into her with one hard thrust, his hips grinding into the plush of her ass as she lets out a broken cry.

“Fuck– always so tight for me– fucking made for me, huh?” She can’t respond to his breathless words, not with the brutal pace he’s setting, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room as he pumps into her, his leaking tip hitting a spot inside her that has her mouth opening in a silent scream. Suddenly, he’s snaking his palm up her chest, pressing between her tits to pull her up until her back is snug against the warmth of his chest, his lips pressed hotly to the shell of her ear.

“Tell me you’re mine, darlin. Wanna hear you say it.” She lets out a low moan as his hand dips down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging across her clit. Meanwhile, he’s skirted his other palm up to her throat, curling his fingers lightly, a faint but firm pressure making her mind go hazy. 

“I’m yours– I’m all yours– please, I’m so close–” His thrusts are getting shorter, more of a deep grind up inside her that has her clenching hard around him.

“Want you to say my name when you come, darlin. Make a fucking mess– c’mon, that’s it.” It becomes too much all at once, and she finds herself letting out a panting sigh of his name as pleasure finally snaps inside her. His hands slacken where they had been holding her up and she collapses forward, resting her teary face in her arms as he fucks her through her high.

“So perfect for me, darlin– shit– just a little more, huh? Fucking close.” His hips start to stutter against hers, and she does her best to press back against him.

“Please, Joel– want it so bad– c’mon, baby, give it to me.” He lets out a low curse, pulling out and fisting himself once, twice, before he’s painting her ass with his spend. He lets out a hard breath before flopping down next to her on the bed, dragging a hand down his flushed face. She winces as she lets her legs splay out, slinking down onto her stomach. There will be bruises tomorrow, without a doubt. She crooks her face to the side to look at him, still panting, eyes scrunched closed.

“Feel better now?” He cracks one eye open, glancing at her before fully turning on his side to steal a kiss from her lips.

“Fucking menace. Yes, I feel better now.” With that, he flops onto his back again, crossing his arms behind his head. She shimmies over to rest her head on his chest, her chin propped up on his sternum so she can look at him. 

“You better get me cleaned up, Miller. Made a damn mess.” He huffs, bringing one hand down and smacking the curve of her ass, making her yelp in surprise. She tries to kiss away the all too smug grin on his face, but it’s still there when she pulls back.

“I will. But first, I gotta know. Where the hell did you learn to play pool like that?” She lets out an exasperated laugh at that.

“Come with me to the bar next Friday night and I’ll tell you.” A low grumble resounds through his chest, but he’s still smiling as he shakes his head at her.

“You’re on, darlin. I should warn you though. I’m gonna whoop your ass.”

“Looking forward to it, Miller.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou

[rosepascal]

Call My Name | Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Joel is bleeding out and he calls out for someone, but it's not you.

warnings: blood and gore. Fixing a wound with a needle and thread, angst, happy ending

a/n: I love angst and I love Joel so here is an angsty Joel piece. with a fluff ending bc he deserves to be happy. Also I'm using a gif from ep7 but it doesn't take place during ep7.

There was so much blood. So much. Your hands are covered in it as you half drag Joel to safety. Ellie trails behind, terror in her eyes as she hugs Joel's riffle to her body.

"Come on, just a little further." You beg. You could almost cry the s a small abandoned house gets closer in view. Ellie runs forward, holding Joel's riffle the same way she's watched him hold it for the past few months.

"Ellie wait!" You call as she runs to the house, you know she's clearing it out. Making sure its well and truly safe but you were worried for her own safety.

"Ell-" Joel tries to say but he can't muster the energy.

"Shh, it's okay. We're almost there." He falters and falls to his knees, almost taking you down with him.

"Please Joel come on." You push hard against his stab wound making him groan loudly.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. It breaks your heart to hear him in so much pain but it wakes him up enough for him to keep move.

"It's clear!" Ellie shouts from the door. Dropping the gun to help you drag Joel the rest of the way. A shitty mattress sits in the corner of the room and you gently lay him on it. His eyes flutter shut and you gently slap his face to keep him awake.

"Ellie! Go look for something to stop the bleeding." Taking off your jacket you ball it up and press it firmly against his stomach. The shake in your hands make it hard to focus but you close your eyes and pray Ellie can find something.

"It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay." At this point you aren't sure if you're saying this for his or your benefit more.

Ellie comes rushing down the stairs with a needle and thread in her hands. You had some medical training, it was part of why Joel and Tess had let you into their little operation in the first place.

They promised protection and you promised to fix all their injuries. Joel got hurt more than Tess did and he was always grumpy about it. He never liked to admit when he was hurt. But it was that stubbornness that you loved about him. He's a protector. And now it's your turn to protect him.

"I have a towel in my bag, can you go get it wet." You instruct Ellie who doesn't hesitate to start moving.

The small river outside of the house might be your saving grace with some fresh water. Taking a deep breath you focus on making your hands stop shaking. Lifting up Joel's shirt you whimper at the sight of his wound. His hand weakly grabs for yours.

"I..." He coughs and groans in pain. Trying his best to hold on and be strong for the both of you.

"Save your energy." Ellie comes back with a wet rag and you start to clean up his stomach. Wiping away a few tears you tell Ellie to look away.

"This is going to hurt." You mumble as you take the needle and puncture his skin. His knuckles turn white as you weave the needle through his wound.

"Just a little more." You ignore his groans of pain and Ellies quiet sniffles and focus.

Focus on saving Joel. You have to do this right. You have to save him. It's rough and not the cleanest work but its enough to stop the bleeding. Tying off the thread you break it and clean up around it.

Your towel stained red. Tossing it off to the side you let out a sigh of relief. He mumbles something. His hand reaches out, searching for something. You immediately grab his hand and lock your fingers together.

"Need..." He closes his eyes and you squeeze his hand tightly.

"Tess..." He whispers, his hand going limp as his body finally stops fighting to let him rest. The relief of saving his life is quickly washed away. Replaced by a cold, ugly feeling. You drop his hand without thinking.

"I..." You can feel Ellie's eyes on you. It's stupid. Joel is lying there, half dead. You should be thankful that he's even alive. Who cares if he called out for Tess. You loved Tess too. She was like family.

"Stay with him, I'm going to hunt for food okay?" Your smile doesn't reach your eyes and Ellie wants to say something. But she was never good with feelings either.

"Come back, please." She says. Her voice shakes and she wants to stop you from going. Not wanting to risk losing someone else. Slinging Joel's rifle across your back you promise her you'll be back.

Stepping out of the house your eyes are drawn down to the ground. The trail of Joel's blood makes you nauseous. One step after the other. Once you're far enough away.

You break.

Falling to your knees as you sob into your hands. You were so, so scared. Joel could have died. He should have died. The house, the needle and thread, all dumb luck. Your hands are stained red and you don't think that it will ever come off.

If Joel died, you don't know what you would have done. He was the leader. He could handle a gun like no one else. He knew what to do. Without him, you'd still be stuck under FEDRA back at the QZ. He had saved you and whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not he gave you a reason to live.

Joel is everything to you. His stubborn, cold exterior scared you at first. He rarely smiled and he was numb on the inside. Being their medic meant you saw him at his lowest, most vulnerable state. It was hard to get him to accept your help. He always waved you off and told you he was fine. Nothing that some whiskey and pills couldn't fix. But you were persistent.

After a while he didn't scare you. He could scowl all he wanted but he would never hurt you. He trusted you. He cared for you.

And when he was dying, he called for Tess.

It's so embarrassing. Shame crawls through your veins as you fight the jealously that brews deep. There's no time to be jealous right now. Especially not of a woman who was dead and sacrificed her life for you. But god you thought that maybe he felt the same way you did.

You weren't stupid either. Just hopeful. You knew that her and Joel had a past based on the way they interacted with each other. The longing looks that Tess gave him. It was something that you never pried about. Not that you could blame Tess either. Falling for him was never the plan but it happened and now you had to deal with it. Joel knows how you feel. That man couldn't express how he felt to save his damn life but he kissed you. That had to mean something right?

A few months before this whole journey had started you were patching up his face. A bruised eye and a busted lip that some asshole gave him.

"You got to stop getting into fights Joel." You dab his lip and he winces.

"Not my fault that fucker swung first." He stretches out his hand. His knuckles cut up from the punch he landed square in that guys face.

"What am I going to do with you?" You tease lightly. He takes your hand away from his face, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Joel.." He silences you with his lips. Their softer than you thought. A little sloppy like he's out of practice but you don't care. It was over too soon for your liking. He pulls away and lets go of your wrist.

"Thank you." He says, his eyes looking anywhere but yours.

After that you started, something. He looked out for you and cared for you. He'd come to you after a rough day and when you were alone. It felt like he loved you. But did it mean anything? He would wrap his arm around you while he slept but he never kissed you. Maybe that should have been a sign.

Were you just someone to keep his bed warm?

As the sun starts to set you make your way back to the house. It didn't take long to find some wild turkeys. They were loud as hell anyways.

Ellie perks up when she hears the door open. She had been lying next to Joel, watching his chest rise and fall. After dinner you pull up a few couch cushions you found and lay them next to Joel.

"Come on Ellie," You point to the cushions and she hesitates.

"What about you?" Smiling you shake your head.

"I'll be alright. Need to keep watch anyways." She reluctantly agrees. Holding onto Joel's arm as she drifts asleep.

Joel opens his eyes the next day. Giving him water and food he tries to get up and move but you stop him. It feels childish but you can't look him in the eye. Fearing that if you do he'll see right through you. It's another four days before he's ready to move. He doesn't listen to your protests as he packs up his things.

"We need to keep movin' west." He says and you sigh.

"You were bleeding out five days ago Joel." He shrugs and slings his bag over his shoulder.

"I'm not anymore." Sometimes you really wanted to slap some sense into him.

"Whatever." You grumble and head outside. Joel scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. He noticed something was off about you. You didn't have that light in you.

Before you and Ellie would fill the silence with jokes and stories that made him roll his eyes. He never thought that he'd miss that. Miss your laugh and your smile. You hadn't even looked him in the eyes.

"Can I talk to you?" He pulls you to the side. Telling Ellie to not wander too far.

"What?" He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry." That takes you by surprise.

"You should've never been put in that position. I fucked up and I'm sorry." You scoff in disbelief. He thinks you're upset at him for that?

"We take care of each other Joel. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Then why are you so upset?" He questions and you squirm under his gaze.

"It's nothing."

"Don't tell me it's nothin' cause I know there is." He says firmly. There's no escaping this conversation and you know it.

"You called out for Tess. Before you passed out." You admit. He lets go of you and it hurts just a little.

"Look Joel, I. I love you and I thought that maybe you loved me too."

"Baby I-" He starts but you cut him off. Too wrapped up in your own head to even notice him calling you baby.

"Please Joel, I don't need your pity alright? We can forget all about this and never speak about it again." You hate the way he looks at you. You were not some lovesick puppy and he was staring at you like one.

"I was thinking 'bout Tess." He says. His face loses that scowl you're so used to seeing and it confuses you.

"And Tommy and Sarah and You." His eyes are filled with so much pain. It fills you with guilt as you look down at the ground.

"I'm supposed to look out for you, for her." He gestures towards Ellie. "I failed." he says simply. He hides the pain well but the memories of the ones he loved are raw in his heart. "

Just like I failed Tommy and Sarah and Tess."

"Joel..." Cupping his cheeks you finally see the broken man that's been hiding behind that face. He leans into your touch.

"You didn't fail them and you didn't fail us. You're still here and that's all that matters."

You press your forehead against his. Noses bumping together as you try and send him all your love. He doesn't believe you. You could tell him a thousand times and the doubt in his mind would still tell him otherwise.

"Hey, I'm serious Joel." You kiss his cheek and he closes his eyes.

"The suns going down. We better get a move on." He steps out of your grip and calls for Ellie to come back. You smile sadly as he walks ahead. His stomach twists and turns with every step. He stops suddenly causing you to bump into him.

"What are-" His hands wrap around your waist as he captures your lips in a kiss.

He's rough and slightly desperate but his lips are as good as you remember. He has a lot to say but he can't, he doesn't know how. You can't help but smile like an idiot when he pulls away. He sees the shine in your eyes, the happiness that he hopes never goes away. He's failed too many people in his life but he won't fail you.

He'll never fail you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #i will actually be taking a break because i have uni stuff to do which i REALLY neglected on behalf of this fic #i really got carried away with this one and the final scene took me so long to write omg #i really tried to approach this topic with respect and understanding and i very much hope it's alright #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic

[absurdthirst]

Puppy Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 12.1k

Warnings: Mentions of pimping someone out, post apocalyptic morality, mentions of violence, guns, biting, infected, death, slapping, angst, anger, Joel being emotionally constipated, declarations of love, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, outdoors sex, pulling out, mentions of pregnancy/infertility

Comments: You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

A/N: ~Contains spoilers for Episode 2~ Follows the episode along with some canon divergence.

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.

Your eyes slide up and down the streets, daring anyone to come closer or ask questions as you clean against the crumbling brick facade and twist your head to look back at the two men huddled together about a hundred feet from where you are. You can’t hear what they’re saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel. 

“What?” Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing he’s being squeezed for cards. He doesn’t get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. “No, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him. 

Robert’s eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. “What can I say? Times are hard. It’s getting harder to come by these things.” His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. “Although….I’m sure we could work something out. I could cut the price in half if you, say, let me have your little pet there for the night.” He chuckles, referring to Tess’s mocking nickname for you. ‘Joel’s little puppy dog.’

Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. “What the fuck did you just ask for?” He growls, low and quiet so you don’t hear. 

“You heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. She’s gotta be good at sucking cock because you keep her around. Got a fucking harem started with her and Tess. Do you have one sit on your face and the other ride your cock?” Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, “or do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, I’ll even throw in some extras.”

You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joel’s fist curls tight for a moment. Wishing that you could hear what the fuck they are saying,  but Joel told you to stay here, so that’s what you’re doing. “Joel?” You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. You’re wondering if you need to come over, knowing you will throw yourself into a fight for him if needed.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up towards you to stop you. He considers the guys offer, he can’t deny it. It would get him a hell of a lot closer to where he needs to be without having to do several burns for the cards. “No. She’s not available.” He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but he’s not a monster. “She’s not an option.” He decides, “you get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.”

“Come on man.” Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. “It’s just a fucking blowjob. I’ll tell you what?” He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. “Let me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and I’ll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let you watch if you want to.”

Joel can’t help but reach up to squeeze the asshole’s throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. “You get the ration cards when I collect it or I can kill you now and get the battery for free? Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let her watch me kill you.” Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.

“Shit!” You leap forward but Joel just turns his head. 

“Stay there!” He orders harshly, making you stop in your tracks. Watching as Joel leans in and whispers something else to the disgusting little rat he was having to buy from to get the battery he needed. 

“No, no, it-it’s good!” You hear Robert choke out, gasping and sputtering when Joel lets him go. Clutching at his throat and coughing as Joel turns around and starts striding back toward you. 

“Let’s go.” He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You weren’t short but he’s speed walking. 

“What the fuck just happened?” You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it would’ve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to. 

“Did you get the car battery?” You ask and Joel doesn’t look at you, knowing he’s barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you. 

“No.” He says without further explanation, “he’s got to locate it.”

“Okay.” You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. You just walk along beside him, watching some of the people on the street part, giving Joel a wide berth. “So what do we do now?” You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.

“We keep low. You seen Tess? I ain’t seen her for a couple of days. Startin’ to get worried.” He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. “I haven’t seen her.” 

You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that he’s so worried about her. It’s always been the two of them. You know they fuck, you know sometimes Tess will sneak into his bed, and you hate it, but you don’t hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do. 

“Let’s head to mine and then we will try to track her down.” Joel says, unaware that Tess is already waiting in his room, her face beaten up and sore.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will do whatever he wants. It’s dumb, but Joel had saved you when you arrived in the QZ, scared off some less than honorable people and you have been drawn to him ever since. It’s hard being in love with a man who doesn’t love you, doesn’t even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims he’s not a good man, and that’s true at times, but he’s good to you. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’ll be in your arms tonight.” You mutter, hating how your stomach twists in jealousy.

Joel pretends to not hear you, knowing you and Tess have some tension going on between you but he ignores it. This life is rough enough without needing to fucking deal with women drama. He gets what he needs when he wants and that’s all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room. 

When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and he’s ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.

“Jesus.” You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. It’s on the tip of your tongue to make a snarky comment, but instead you watch Joel fuss over her and clean up the wounds with the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the sink. It would be touching if it didn’t break your heart. “What the fuck happened to you?” You ask finally as he’s dabbing at the corner of her mouth. You flop down on his sofa and glare at your feet.

Joel gently grips her chin as he cleans her up, his eyes burning into hers and he doesn’t hear your question, too busy making sure Tess is okay. Neither of them see the crestfallen look on your face until your scowl covers it. Tess sighs, gently pushing Joel’s hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robert’s goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he should’ve killed that asshole when he had the chance.

You hate how neither one of them includes you, feeling like an extra wheel. Dragging your feet off the coffee table you slap your hands on your thighs and stand. “Since she’s home, I guess I better do the same.” You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he won’t. Wondering why you put yourself through this torture when he only had eyes for Tess.

Joel wants to ask you to stay but he needs to talk to Tess about what happened. He needs to form a plan and you distract him. “See you later.” He tells you, not even looking your way and Tess offers you a slight smirk as she bids you goodbye. Joel tuts when you stomp out, slamming the door behind you. “Tess…” He murmurs, shaking his head. 

“What? She’s like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.” 

Joel snorts, “what does that make you?”

Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. “You know what I am to you.” She challenges him, holding his gaze until he turns away. You have fucked everything up, everything was fine until you showed up and things changed. “Joel-“ She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. “We need to go find Robert and our battery.”

Joel nods, “we do. I’ll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.” He orders, standing up and making his way out of the door to track you down. He needs you for backup and also, he is secretly amused at the way Tess frowns whenever you are mentioned. Tess is…Tess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him. 

You are innocent really, still able to fight but you haven’t seen that side of him. He doesn’t want you to. He wants you to think of him as the closest version to the person he used to be. He misses that person sometimes, grieves him almost as much as he grieves Sarah. The small things he’d bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today. 

When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, “come on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.”

Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Miller.” You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesn’t comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door. 

“Get your pack, we might need it.” He tells you before he walks out of your rooms like he owns the damn things. Your fault for letting him in, your fault for being so fucking in love with him that you let him walk all over you. 

“This is the last goddamn time.” You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready. 

Joel doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know that’s not true. When you’re ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. “Right. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m sick of his bullshit.” Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.

“Awwww, you decided to come along, I’m so touched.” Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye. 

“Well, someone has to clean up your mess.” You huff back. 

“Enough.” Joel growls, shaking his head at you before he turns to Tess with a pointed look. They did that a fucking lot, silently communicate like you weren’t fucking there.

Tess nods and Joel leads the way, entering the building with gun in hand and he creeps down the hall, using hand signals to gesture for you to walk or stop. He knows you and Tess have some fucking women issues between you but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time for that trivial shit.

It’s not the time to be snarky. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you focus on the task at hand. All you care about is keeping Joel safe. Tess by extension just because you know that he would be upset if something happened to her. She was his woman, not you. Your own gun in your hand, you flank his left side as you follow, eyes peeled for any danger. 

Joel is naturally anxious, keeping his eyes open and ears clear for any noises. When he spots the dead bodies of Robert and his goons, he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesn’t think. He just acts. Shoving the girl against the wall so she drops the knife and placing his foot on it, gun aimed at her. When Marlene appears, Joel narrows his eyes, listening as she begs him not to shoot.

Your fingers tense around your own weapon, aimed at the two fireflies in front of you. “What’s who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?” You roll your eyes at her humor but it’s true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. “Bring your puppy with you too.” You hiss at that, pissed off that Tess’s fucking nickname for you has caught on. “I tried to recruit her, but she’s too loyal to you Joel.” 

Joel conceals the way his heart flutters at the news that you wanted to stay loyal to him. His face remains impassive and the girl tries to get her knife back while Marlene points out that she is bleeding and he needs to hurry up and decide. “Fine.” He grunts after Tess states her case.

Huffing, you shake your head. “You two have fun with that.” You know it’s a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery. 

“You’re going with us.” Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back. 

“We don’t need her. Joel. She’ll just be a liability.” Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more. 

“I’m going.” You hiss, glaring at her.

Joel doesn't need this catty bullshit, the girl is glaring at him and it's putting him on edge. "Fine. Get your shit kid, we are leaving." He orders the girl, Ellie, who goes to get her knife back with a scowl. When night falls, Joel guides the group through the old tunnel that he uses to smuggle things in and once you're outside the QZ, Ellie's eyes widen. 

"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by. 

"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.

“Jesus.” You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that it’s getting harder and harder every time. “We need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.” You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain. 

Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesn’t even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. He’s feral and there’s nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.

“Joel.” You know the man is capable of violence, you’ve seen it, but this was unhinged. He turns back to look at the girl and you, the expression on his face is fierce and you shake your head after Tess shows him the red scanner. She’s infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. “We need to go.” You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastard’s leg and handing it back to her. You don’t know about her claim that she’s immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. “Take the rifle.”

  Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once you’ve found where you usually stop, Joel slumps down in the chair, flexing his knuckles and hissing. Ellie looks exhausted and you tell her to get some sleep, you’re stopping here for the night. “She’s infected.” Joel grunts when she’s fast asleep, bringing yours and Tess’s eyes over to him.

“Her wound looked healed.” Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. It’s always inflamed as the fungal infection spreads through the body, taking over. You glance at his knuckles, wishing that you had ice to put on it. “You should wrap it up.” You tell him.

Joel ignores you, just imagining what could’ve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. You’d all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. “I’m fine.” He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, “she’s right.” That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, “I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep. I’ll watch the girl.” He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.

You sigh, knowing it won’t make a damn bit of difference, but you find yourself a corner away from the door so you have time to react and lay your pack down. Using it as a pillow as you turn your back to Joel and Tess. You don’t want to see whatever else they do or talk about tonight, tired of being the third wheel and tired of feeling like you should just leave.

Joel keeps watch most of the night until Tess tells him to get half an hour. “Lazy bitch couldn’t even get up for a watch.” She scoffs at your sleeping form. 

Joel shakes his head at her, “she didn’t sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?” Joel asks and Tess snorts, nodding her head. He sits down, closing his eyes but he never truly relaxes, just rests until the sun starts to rise. 

“What do we do with the girl?” Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her. 

“Kill her.” Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldn’t find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. It’s not far from the truth. “We don’t know if she’s gonna turn.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on the curled up ball in the middle of the room.

Grunting, you wake up with a jolt, used to the nightmares that plague your sleep. Everyone in the fucking horror reality has them, or they’ve never lived outside the QZ they were born in. Flipping over, you notice that Joel and Tess are already awake, both of them watching the girl. “Shoulda woke me.” You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.

“You needed the sleep.” Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. “We should kill her.” Joel says with finality just as the girl wakes up, glancing around to see you sitting up and Joel sitting there with his rifle aimed towards her, anxious and tense as hell. “You make one wrong move and I’ll kill ya.” He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up. 

“I’m fine. No different than last night.”

You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. “Why didn’t she kill you?” You demand, asking about Marlene. Ellie explains about the daily testing and holds out her arm to show that it is perfectly steady. No tremor, which is normally the first sign of infection besides a bite. “Jesus.” You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. It’s him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joel’s opinion.

Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasn’t spread. “Fine. Better get something to eat before we head out.” Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles. 

“Broken?” Tess asks and he shrugs, “hairline. It will heal fast.” 

You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack. 

Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. “Is that chicken?” Tess asks and Ellie explains how Marlene got it from smugglers. Joel snorts, chewing on his jerky and trying to ignore the pain in his hand.

You hate that he is hurting, knowing that he can’t take anything that would help because it would make him slower to react. Instead of offering to take the gun, you open your pack and offer him the precious bottle of aspirin you have. It took a month of ration cards to get it, and you normally used it when your cramps would get too bad. “Here.” You offer quietly, “to help with the swelling.”

Joel takes the pill, knowing it’s aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. “Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.” He says, standing up to grab his pack and the rifle. Ellie scrambles to pack up her pack again and soon enough, you are heading outside with Tess keeping close to Joel.

“Do we want to take the long way or the short way?” Joel asks and it’s not your opinion he’s actually asking for. Tess snorts. 

“You mean the long way or sure to die way.” She corrects sarcastically, making Ellie’s eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. You’ve been the short way and it’s fine as long as you pay attention. 

“I vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.” Ellie huffs, making you smirk. 

“The long way, fast.” You decide. “Sooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.” That’s what all this is about after all, getting to his brother.

Joel nods, agreeing with you. You, Tess, and the girl trail behind him. Joel hears Tess telling the kid about Boston and the wreck it is now, but he isn't really listening, too busy scanning the area for any threats: human or infected. 

He walks into the hotel and Ellie is amazed. "Wow. Did you guys ever stay somewhere like this?" She asks and Joel snorts while Tess says, "it was a bit out of our price range." You can't help but snort when Joel sasses the kid by hopping down onto the last step. 

"Come on." You urge her forward and she rambles on about the hotel. When she rings the bell, Joel rolls his eyes and you shrug, offering him a look of amusement.

Halfway through the lobby when Ellie screams, you turn around and rush back through the water, unsure if it’s a clicker. Relieved when Joel isn’t shouting and shooting, you find the decayed bones of an unfortunate bastard floating. He must have moved and scared the girl. You hum, watching as Joel offers her his hand, something that he wouldn’t have done if he didn’t somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. “Come on kid,” you offer, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go up to the rooms. We’ve got a hell of a climb.” 

Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. “Fuck.” He grunts. 

“I can fit through. Let me try and get through.” Tess says and Joel shakes his head, “we can go the short way.” 

Tess huffs, “we don’t have time. I’ll be fine.” She promises and starts to climb through the debris. You hover near Ellie, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs at their secret look, only between them. It makes you feel like you’re a thousand miles away from them. Ellie slumps down on the floor and Joel follows suit, looking over at you while Ellie starts to ask him questions.

You fiddle with your gun, trying not to feel like you are stuck in the middle of a Q&A that you don’t want to be at. Snickering to yourself when Ellie sasses back at Joel that she knows where Detroit is. Only to be surprised moments later when Joel actually knows where you are from. You had only told him once and assumed that he had forgotten or didn’t care enough. “So you and her are….” Joel’s entire body tenses. 

“Pass.” Of course he wouldn’t define their relationship, he doesn’t ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesn’t deny them either. 

Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. “So that means you and her are……” She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps. 

Joel grunts, “pass.” He doesn’t want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie. 

“Are you- is it like a throuple situation?” She guesses and Joel snorts, “nope.” 

You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. “Absolutely not.” You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel. 

“Rightttt.” Ellie drawls just as there’s a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that she’s back. Joel sighs slightly, relieved to see Tess, and he gestures for you and Ellie to get your shit.

Your stomach knots, knowing that the hardest part is coming up but there is something calming about the view from the terrace. Looking out over the ruins of the city that you had wished to have visited before all of the world went to shit. Tess pulls back the heavy plastic curtain so Ellie can get her first look and you walk up to the ledge. 

Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. “There’s so many of them.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. Tess starts to talk, explaining the way the fungus spreads. “They’re connected.” Tess hums. “More than you know.” Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second. 

You wish that he cared about you, but he doesn’t. You tear your eyes away from his and listen to Tess tell Ellis about how the tendrils spread underground, alerting other infected to your location. “You’re not immune from being ripped apart.” Tess cautions her. “You understand?” For a moment, the woman you hold such a grudge against seems almost motherly and you wish that she could talk to you with half the kindness, although you know you’ve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.

“So we’re not going that way.” Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing what’s coming. “Short way?” She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion. 

“Museum.” He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead. 

You are anxious, preparing yourself to enter the museum and Joel glances at you, "be careful." He tells you softly, ignoring the glance from Tess. He opens the door, pleased after discovering the fungal roots are dry. He enters the Bostonian Museum, keeping his gun raised and ready.

Blowing out a soft breath, you grip your gun in your hand tightly and keep your head on a swivel as you watch your steps. The museum is dark and all you have for light is the flashlights, the kid breathing heavily at your back and you swear you hear her huff under her breath because Joel wouldn’t let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. “Yeah, cooked.” Joel says and Tess grunts. 

“Finally some fucking luck.” Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. “I guess we should have gone this way in the first place.” Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner. 

“Oh shit!” You rush over and shine another light on the body she discovered, groaning to yourself when you see that the person has been ripped up. Knowing what causes that. “What the fuck did that?” She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous. 

“Maybe.” Tess whispers. “Maybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.” She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows that’s not what happened. 

“I don’t hear anything.” She insists. “What would you hear?” Ellie demands, her voice at a normal volume and all three of you turn towards her to quiet her down.

Joel holds his hand up, telling Ellie to quieten down. “What would you hear?” She repeats in a whisper, “you saying an infected did that?” Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. “-because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Ellie looks back at the body. 

“Okay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.” 

Ellie shakes her head “what-” 

Joel cuts her off, “no questions. Just do it.” Joel is anxious, always tense when he’s in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. It’s difficult to move so slow but he is careful when he steps on the dried fungus. He manages to make it up the stairs and onto the second floor. He opens the door, walking in with his gun ready. The ceiling collapses and Tess shoves Ellie forward, pushing her into you and the three of you fall onto the floor. Joel helps Ellie up and that’s when you hear it. A clicker.

Shit. Your gun comes up and you immediately move in front of Ellie, flanking Joel to his left and Tess to his right. You’re trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You don’t dare to breathe, barely creeping forward since they rely on hearing, totally blind with the large, hard fungal growth covering their heads. You hear her breathing start to pick up and you turn to find her wide as you realize there is more than one. All of you crouch down behind a display and Joel motions to Ellie that they rely on hearing. You can see the terror on her face, making the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Joel puts his finger to his lips again as they continue to make horrible screeches and clicks as they search for the source of the sounds. The clicker comes around the display and the little girl sees it for the first time, inhaling sharply. 

Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it. 

It’s terrifying, fighting for your life, and you are scared that Joel is gonna get bitten. You scramble to shoot the clicker but eventually you run out of bullets. Joel curses, “fucking go.” He hisses, “I’ll distract it.” You rush to hide around a corner to reload your gun. The girl and Tess are across the room and your hands shake as you struggle to reload your weapon. “

Fuck.” You hiss and Joel comes to stand beside you, doing the same thing. His eyes are full of fear and you stare back at him until you hear the clicks.

Your eyes close for a brief second, well aware that this could be it for you. You hate it. The fact that you could die in this fucking museum and never find Tommy. Never tell Joel how you feel. The floorboards creak and you hear the clicks right next to you. Another sound draws its attention and you turn to watch it, finding Ellie cowering behind a display and both you and Joel creep over to her. Making your way silently until Joel steps on a piece of broken glass. You cry out and start shooting as the clicker flies over the display and knocks all three of you to the ground, trying to infect you as you fight it off. 

Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. It’s a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually it’s face. Just as that one falls, the other rushes forward and Tess swings an axe into its head. Joel scrambles to grab his rifle, shooting the bastard in the head to kill it. “You alright?” Joel asks Tess as she stands. 

“Twisted ankle.” 

He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. “I’m fine.” You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, “well I didn’t shit my pants.”

You can’t help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that she’s injured again. “Ah…I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.” 

You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but she’s quickly redirecting the conversation. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Making your way onto the roof, it’s obvious that Tess needs medical attention. Joel hands Ellie a rag for her arm and turns his attention to Tess. Leaving you to walk over to the other girl and help her while he concentrates on wrapping her ankle. “Come here. I’ll help you.” It will be a good distraction, tending to her wound rather than watching Joel fret over a twisted ankle. Soon her arm is wrapped and she’s walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. “Over there?” She asks and Joel barely glances at her. “Yeah, I know it looks scary.” Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. “That was scary, this is wood.” She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults. 

"Just wait there. Give us a minute." Joel says and you step to follow Ellie across the wood, not wanting to see the tenderness Joel gifts Tess with. "Be careful." Joel warns you while opening his backpack. You scoff, walking across the wood as brazenly as Ellie. Joel shakes his head, while he tapes Tess's ankle. 

"Told you, she's trouble." Her eyes focus on Joel but he doesn't notice, set on the job at hand. "There's probably more ahead." 

Tess nods, "so we'll deal with it then...I got it. I got it." She tells Joel when he wraps around her ankle again. 

Joel leans back to look at Tess until his gaze turns to the building across from them. "What about the kid?" He asks, "maybe the first bite didn't take but what about the second?" 

Tess huffs, turning towards him, "why don't you just take the good news? Can you do that?" She asks Joel, "can you just for once think that we might actually win?" Tess asks and shakes her head, "just go and watch her and your fucking puppy." 

Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. “Wow.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. 

“Is that everything you hoped for?” Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle. 

“Jury’s still out.” Ellie replies back, “but man…you can’t deny that view.” You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.

“Tess gonna live?” You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. It’s not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. You’ve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. You’ll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard and you know that it will never be you that he picks. Stupid of you to fall for a man who was obviously involved with someone whether or not he admitted it. Joel rolls his eyes, not answering you and you swallow harshly. “When we get to the state house-” You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up. 

“Come on, let's get there before it’s dark” She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder. 

Ellie goes next and then you look at Joel who nods at you. You nod and make your way down the ladder, firm in your decision. Joel glances at his watch, thinking about Sarah, and forces himself to keep going. As you walk towards the state building, Joel glances down at Ellie’s arm. Cautious and wondering if she’s gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, there’s no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. “Where the fuck are they?” Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours. 

He stands, rifle in his grip, and he makes his way over to the truck. Cautious and alert, he opens the passenger door and turns back to you, Tess and Ellie. “Stay back.” He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.

“Joel, what the fuck is going on?” You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head. 

“I don’t know.” 

You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “They went inside.” Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign. 

Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellie’s hand as she marches towards the steps. “Tess.” Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tess’s sake, but for the girls. You know Joel will be right behind you. You walk into the state house, finding all of the crew dead on the floor in the middle of a vegetation patch. 

“Holy shit.” Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad. 

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them. 

Tess searches the bodies, “I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She says, searching the crate closest to her. 

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back. 

“No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? What’re you doin’?” He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching. 

Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!” 

The girl steps forward, “uh. I don’t know. Just west.” 

Tess turns away, “just west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” She says more to herself. “Joel, can you help me?” She asks, nearly begging. 

Joel shakes his head, “no! Tess, it’s over. We are going home.” He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe. 

Tess growls, “that’s not my fucking home.” Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. “I’m stayin’.” She declares, “I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.” 

Joel’s face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, “fuck. She’s infected.” Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.

“Show me.” Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didn’t mean you wanted her dead. 

“Joel.” She takes a step towards him and instinctively, he jolts backwards, pulling away from her. You walk towards the kid and put your arm around her shoulder gently, wanting to comfort her. Tess pulls her jacket away so you can see the bite on her neck and you close your eyes. “Oops.” She jokes. “Right?’ She turns to Ellie. “Take your bandage off.” You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers haven’t gotten any worse. She’s not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. “Look, Joel.” She demands, holding it up for  him to inspect. “This is real. Joel she’s fucking real.” She insists. “I need you to get her to Bill and Franks.” 

“No,” Joel shakes his head. 

“They’ll  take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.” 

“No, no, no, I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not going to take her.” He frowns. 

“They will ‘cause you’ll convince them.” Tess tells him. “Yes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…” You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her. 

“No.” Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him. 

“Not to…shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.” Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellie’s shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you. 

“This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you don’t feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.” Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joel’s. “All the shit we did…” She looks over at you, “he was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.” 

Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tess’s. “Little puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkin’ you were the third wheel when it was always me.” Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Please say yes, Joel, please.” Tess begs and Joel’s gaze shifts over to you. 

The way you’re looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He can’t do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frank’s. “Please.” Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl. 

“Oh fuck!” The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesn’t hesitate to take his gun out, killing the bastard, and his jaw is clenched when he sees the fungus curling around the dead digits. He looks towards the door and rushes past Tess to open it. Eyes panicked when he looks back after shutting the door. 

“How many?” Tess asks. 

“All of them. Maybe a minute.” Joel says, spinning around in a panic to face you but you refuse to meet his eye.

Tess gets to work, pushing over the barrels of gasoline, spilling it over the ornate tile floor. “What are you doing?” You ask and Tess answers with “making sure they don’t follow you.” 

Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman who’s been his right hand for so long is not walking out of this building with him. He steps closer to her, grenades roll across the floor. “Joel.” Tess moves to stand in front of him. “Joel.” She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. “Save who you can save.” She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare. 

He’s struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. He’s torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellie’s hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Stop! We’re not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! I’m not going with you!” Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. He’s frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it. 

“Hurry up.” He growls, dragging you both until you’re far enough away. He ducks down as the glass explodes, shoving you on the floor, and he grabs his rifle to aim it in case any infected chase after you. 

Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. “Joel…” You trail off and he shakes his head, turning to walk away. Ellie lingers for a moment until you step forward to follow him.

Your jaw rocks and you shake your head, unable to believe that he had refused to even talk to you after Tess dropped that bomb on you. At least she told you before she died, even though it was supposed to be one last barb through your heart. “I’m not going.” You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. “This is your mission. For Tess.” You turn around and start walking back the way you just came, sure that the infected will be burned now given the size of the fire bomb and the smoke still billowing from the building.

Joel pauses, watching you for a moment until he strides forward to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stop you walking away. “You ain’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. Stop movin’.” He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. “I don’t understand. What - why you wanna go back?”

Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. “You fucking bastard!” You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. “You were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!” Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you don’t even bother wiping them away. “I knew you didn’t-“ you break off, “fuck you, Miller.”

Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, “Jesus Christ.” He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. “I didn’t sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckin’ told him no.” He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie. 

“Tell me you didn’t think about it.” You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. “Tell me that you didn’t consider it.” Joel doesn’t answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. “I thought so.” You choke out. “I fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.”

He shakes his head, “no baby. I didn’t - I didn’t do it though.” He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesn’t know why that destroys him when he’s fought so hard to keep you at arms length. “You can’t love me, okay? I’m - I’m a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -” He cuts himself off, knowing that it’s getting dangerous.

“Until you what? Couldn’t whore her out?” You spit, shaking your head at him. “I put up with the stupid fucking nickname. ‘Puppy dog’.” You sneer. “Guess that’s what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesn’t fucking realize she’s not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I don’t know.” You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. “Make you love me, I guess. But that’ll never happen. I’m not Tess.” You close your eyes, and sigh. “Just- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem.”

He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and he’s lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He can’t lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. “I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckin’ in love with you and Jesus fuckin’ Christ that terrifies me.” He confesses, chest heaving.

You frown, not believing him for a second. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.” You sob out angrily. “You at least owe me the fucking truth.” 

Ellie steps forward. “Hey so, uh- it’s-“ 

You turn around and glare at her. “Not now!” You hiss, wanting to finish this so you can leave and find some place to hole up for the night before sneaking back into the QZ. “She was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you weren’t fucking her?”

“I stopped. We weren’t - we were plannin’ the smuggling. We weren’t doing shit other than figurin’ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didn’t - I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ve been tryin’ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and that’s why she called you my puppy dog. I should’ve stopped it but doing that wouldn’t meant acknowledging these fuckin’ feelings that I’ve been tryin’ to squash down. Love doesn’t succeed in this goddamn hellhole. Love is a weakness and I - shit - you make me weaker than a paper straw under a one ton weight.”

You don’t know if you believe him. The sting of finding out that he had even thought about giving you to Robert, even for a moment, stings. But you know it would be safer for Ellie if there was more than one capable adult looking out for her ass. There’s enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. “Fine.” You whisper. “I’ll….go with you on this fucking haul.” 

Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isn’t over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. “Come on baby. We can talk later. Let’s get safe first.” He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her. 

“Never knew you were so emotional, Joel.” She scoffs, remembering the books that would be passed around in secret at the school about romance and how the guy would kiss the girl after declaring he loved her.

Instead of following directly behind Joel,  you put the girl between you and him. Bringing up the rear for safety as well as to give you some space to allow for thinking about what the fuck you are going to do. You know Joel isn’t a ‘good man’ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You don’t even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didn’t give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if that’s why he was choking the bastard the day before yesterday. Not that it mattered, the fucker was dead. Sighing softly, you shift your gaze around the fading light to look for somewhere to safely pass the night. 

Joel guides you through the forest that is invading Boston, nature taking back what is rightfully hers. Joel sighs, holding his rifle, until he comes around a sheltered area. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe and that’s all that matters. “We will set up here.” He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesn’t find any, he shrugs his pack off.

You don’t speak, just shrug off your own pack and set it down as you start to get the area ready for the night. While the infected weren’t in this area, wild animals were. A fire would be necessary to keep them from getting too close and you know that the sun will be setting soon. You start to drag trash and debris closer, scrapping out an area to start the fire and pile things high. Joel can’t move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it. 

Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. She’s starving and she doesn’t want to wait to eat. When you’ve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. “You gotta eat, sweetheart.” He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesn’t want to show his emotions now when you’ve shattered him with your onslaught.

Shaking your head, you don’t take his offerings. “You need it more than me.” You tell him as you reach for your own pack. “I have my own but I just-” You bite your lip. “I’m going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.” You don’t let him argue, setting your pack up as a pillow and turning your back on him and the girl, curling in on yourself and forcing yourself to close your eyes. 

He doesn’t argue, knowing you need to rest and he needs time to think. Ellie looks at him as he starts to chew on the jerky and he ignores her raised eyebrows. “Don’t say a word, kid.” He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark. 

Ellie rolls her eyes, “whatever dude. You can’t see what’s right in front of you. What Tess saw.” She says and continues eating. Joel grimaces, thinking of Tess. He tried to hide how he felt about you from her, thinking he had been successful but he wasn’t.

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but your jerk awake with a gasp. Your hand reaches for the gun that is right next to you and you flip over to try to figure out what woke you. The fire is still burning and the kid is curled but about five feet from you, wedged between the concrete wall and the fire. Joel is still awake, his eyes watching as you sit up. “Shit.” You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. “Get some sleep, I’ll take over.” You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.

Joel shakes his head, “no. I wanna talk. Come here.” He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down. 

You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. “What is it Joel?” You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit. 

“Shut up.” He orders and you open your mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, pissed off with you. “I’m not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I don’t do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t - I can’t lose someone else and I - I haven’t felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. I’m in love with you darlin’ and that fuckin’ terrifies me.”

His speech startles you, not expecting to hear something like that. Not from him. You close your eyes and absorb the words that you have wanted to hear for so long, believing them to be nothing more than a wistful dream. “I’m sorry.” You offer. “For that, I guess. For Tess.” You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. “I’m not sorry that I love you though.” You murmur, looking into the fire. “It’s- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.”

He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. He’s slow, giving you a chance to pull away but he leans in, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb caresses the skin there and he leans in to kiss your lips. It’s soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you don’t make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.

Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joel’s lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you can’t believe this is happening and you never expect it to be so gentle.

Joel groans softly into the kiss, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap. Straddling him and he glances over your shoulder to make sure the kid is still asleep. “Fuck.” Joel groans when you are pressed against him, his lips finding your jaw and he kisses until his lips press against yours again.

You whine again his lips when his hands squeeze your ass just like you’ve imagined more times than you ever want to admit. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shamelessly grinding down on the bulge in his jeans that you had always salivated over. “Joel.” You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. “I-“ he shushes you, pressing his lips to yours again.

His hands slide under your shirt, wanting to feel more of you, and he groans when you grind down on him again, cock hardening in his jeans. He thinks you’re gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and he’s jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. “We gotta be quiet.” He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesn’t take it off, just pushes it up your chest so he can slide his hands around your torso to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If you’re merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You don’t care when you are getting to touch him like you’ve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like you’ve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You can’t ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and that’s dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. You’re distracted by him.

He knows this is dangerous, the girl could wake up, but he desperately wants to feel you. He works on your pants, unbuttoning them and he shoves his hand inside, cupping your cunt after sliding under your panties. He finds you wet but not dripping and his fingers rub your clit after sliding through your folds.

You swear you’re going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers you’ve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. “Joel.” You pant, needing more from him. “I- you have to fuck me.” You gasp out. “Please. Just- just once.” You know that he might change his mind come morning. That he could put that wall back up but you will be happy if you just get one night. “Please, baby. I need you.”

He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, it’s been a long ass day and he wants to connect to you. He whispers for you to stand up and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine softly. When you stand, he pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles, dragging you back into his lap so you are straddling him, cunt bare to the cool night air. He reaches down to take his cock out, “can’t cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.” He whispers, knowing he won’t risk you like that.

You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. “I know- it’s- it’s okay.” You promise, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick head of his cock and moaning quietly at the smear of pre-cum building up on the tip so gorgeously. “I-“ instead of telling him that you love him again, you rock your hips forward and line him up so you can sink down on him with a moan of his name that is pressed to his shoulder as you take him.

Fuck, you’re so tight. Hot and wet around him and you mean so much to him. His heart thumps in his chest while his cock twitches when you bottom out. “Fuckkkk.” He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your ass and he struggles to remain calm as he allows you a moment to adjust around him. “Gotta be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.

“You- you might have to cover my mouth.” You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. “Always been loud in bed.” An irony in a world where you’ve had to be silent at so many times when you just wanted to scream. Your fingers sink into his hair and you tug on it slightly as you start to move, wanting to ride him and eager to feel this incredible cock filling you more.

Joel knows he will want more after this. He’s already addicted to you and the thought of ever giving this up, you up, has him on edge. He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with his tongue, and he groans softly when your walls grip him tight when you find the angle that works for you. His hands slide up and down your back, squeezing your ass and enjoying how damn good you feel around him.

You try to stifle your sounds but it’s hard when he feels like he’s in your fucking throat. Stretching you out and making you feel more relaxed than you have in years, while craving more. Your tongue tangles with his while your thighs start to push up and down, moving yourself on his length in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Needing to feel every inch of him as much as you can.

Joel is trying to hang on to his composure, resist the urge to roll you over and just slam into you, fuck you into the ground, but he can’t. The kid is there. He can’t do that now. So he lets you lead, just pulling back to watch you work yourself on his cock. When your mouth opens to moan again, he shoves two fingers in there, wanting you to keep quiet. “Can’t wake the kid, darlin’. You gotta keep quiet.” He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.

His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you don’t. Not even caring at this point. The feeling of his cock shredding up into you every time your hips fall is too good to care. His voice rumbling in your ear makes your cunt clench around him, swearing you can cum from him talking.

There’s so much to say to you and yet he can’t. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He can’t bring himself to say anything but he does lean in to kiss you, replacing his fingers with his lips, and his hand finds your clit. Rubbing tight circles in it as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

You whimper, groaning as he keeps rubbing your clit. Trying to keep quiet but it’s so hard when he feels this good. Your arms tighten around him and you kiss him harshly, feeling your cunt bottom out and your entire body light up with pleasure as you start to cum for him.

“That’s it baby.” Joel practically exhales into your mouth as you clamp down on his cock, body shaking against his. He pulls you closer, thrusting up into you as best he can until he’s pushing you onto the ground beside him, barely managing to shift onto his knees to cum on the dirt and not ruin your clothing. He pants, chest heaving while his cock twitches in his hand. “Jesus Christ.” He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. “Sorry baby. Couldn’t - needed to pull out.”

“It’s fine.” You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadn’t. “You can’t risk it.” You’ve never told him anyway and in the moment isn’t a good time anyway. It’s not like it matters anyway. You shuffle quietly, trying to pull your clothes back on and put yourself to rights.

Joel watches you put your clothes back on and once you’re settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didn’t lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, he’s just happy to have you. He loves you, he really does. He wishes he had told you sooner but this life is unpredictable at the best of times. You have a journey ahead with him to get to Bill and Frank’s and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takes…he won’t lose anyone else he loves.

****

Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didn’t sleep last night and he’s had a fucking hell of a day. You all had, but him most of all. Whatever him and Tess had been towards the end, he had cared for her in his own way and he needed to grieve her. You keep the fire crackling, staring into the flames when you aren’t watching the inky blackness around your small space and listening for more than the rustles of wildlife. Your jerky and your water bottle your own companions through the rest of the night until the first rays of sun peak over the horizon and the sky begins to brighten.

When Joel wakes up, you and Ellie are talking, and he winces at the sunlight, trying to figure out how long he’s been asleep.  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He grunts and you shake your head, “you needed to sleep.” 

Ellie nods, “yeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.” 

He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. “We gotta get going. Get your shit together. I’m gonna take a piss.” He stumbles to the tree line, gun in hand and he checks his surroundings before he shoves the weapon in the back of his jeans and pulls his cock out to pee. When he returns, you’ve put the fire out and are ready to go. Joel grabs his pack and leads the way, rifle in hand.

You walk alongside Ellie for a bit, hanging back as you try to figure out how to tell Joel. You should, he deserves to know. “So, uh, did you work your shit out?” Ellie asks, making you look over at her. “Cause I don’t want it to be a tense trip.” She offers, making you snort. 

“It’s going to be a tense trip regardless.” You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. “But we’ve talked. While you were asleep.”

Ellie snorts, “talked. Sure.” She doesn’t believe you just talked. She’s not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows that’s how most adults show how they feel. You fluster and look at Joel as he strides ahead, rifle gripped in his hand. He sighs and looks over his shoulder at you and Ellie.

You see Joel jerk his head towards you, motioning for you to come up beside him. Eager to get away from Ellie’s prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. “Something up?” You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frank’s.

Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, “everything okay with the kid?” He asks and you nod, “yeah she’s good.” 

He sighs, “you think she’s gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?” You shrug, “who knows.” Joel glances behind him again to see Ellie looking around and he takes a chance to reach out and hold your hand.

Shocked, you look down at his large hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight and yet he’s not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and it’s impossible to not fall more in love with him. “Joel- I need to tell you something.” You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.” You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s not- it’s nothing bad. Or, I guess it’s better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.” You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” You confess. “I can never have kids.”

Joel frowns, turning to look at you. "You can't - shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." He murmurs, knowing it must've been hard to process. "What - what did they say?" He is curious and wants to know why you can't have kids. He also wants to comfort you but all he can do is squeeze your hand. Even this is more intimacy than he is used to displaying.

“Premature ovarian failure.” You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. “Basically, I stop producing eggs.” You explain. “I found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess it’s handy?” You try, your joke falling flat. “Not that I would want to have kids in a world like this. It’s not fair to them. Not fair to her.” You nod back towards Ellie. “I just- if we, you know, again….you don’t have to pull out if you don’t want to. If you do, I get it.”

Joel feels guilty that he is happy to hear he doesn't need to pull out but he's sad that you won't get to be a mom. You'd be good at it, even in this fucked up world. "I'm sorry you couldn't, you know, but, next time...I want you in a bed and I ain't gonna pull out." He murmurs so the kid can't hear.

You shiver slightly, happy to hear that there will be a next time if both of you can help it. You hum quietly and shoot him a small smirk. “Maybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.” You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least you’ll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #hbo the last of us spoilers #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction

[kiwisbell]

helen ; chapter three

the red circle

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, the truth.

series masterlist | my masterlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), john wick AU, hitman!joel, husband!joel, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship (and blasphemy), sacrilege in the name of romance, flashbacks, graphic violence, guns, blood + injuries, mentions of rape/SA, cars, bill is here, joel is still a bit of an idiot, childhood/religious trauma, hitman!joel finally hitmans, criminal underworld, secrecy/lies, betrayal, ANGST (still unresolved oopsie), we're getting there though, exposition, conflicting emotions, joel's tattoos are sexy but they're also plot-relevant, Sleeping Together, but not like That, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, dividers by @/saradika word count: ~ 7.6k a/n: this chapter marks this fic being halfway done already, which is madness. also, can i just say that i'm loving the amount of people who've specifically been watching john wick because of this fic?? this is my agenda!! as always, thank you so fucking much to mya baby @cavillscurls for beta reading this fic and being, idk, generally the loml. i hope you enjoy chapter 3, my friends! i'm sorry it's been such a long time coming, but life lifed, y'know?? prev | next

“How much?”

“Two million. For now, at least. It’s open.”

“Goddammit, Tommy.”

“I told you to be careful, brother. Now look at you. You’re a loose end.”

Joel resisted the urge to toss his phone. The shower continued running in the bathroom, muffled by the closed door. 

He couldn't lose you. He didn't know life without you. Love had no name until he knew you. He'd christened it with that first kiss, maybe even in the first breath he'd shared with you.

If there was a chance Cabrera’s kid could come back for you, even if just to hurt Joel, he needed to see this to its end. There was no choice. 

“He tried to rape my wife,” said Joel. “He's lucky I’m only tryin’ to kill him.”

Tommy only sighed, and the call ended.

I married you, Joel.

I loved you.

You lied to me.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he watches you doze. The sunlight shines neatly through the break in the curtains, and you squint against it in your sleep, turning over with a little huff and bringing the duvet over your head. You’ve always needed total darkness for a half-decent sleep. 

You’ve been crying. The tears leave remnants on your cheeks, a dryness at the outer corners of your eyes, salt seeping moisture from your skin. He’s never known a thing so soft as the drag of his hand down your back. 

I loved you.

You lied to me.

You will never understand. There are reasons—too many to count—that civilians cannot know. He may have gotten you to relative safety in the Continental, but there are a hundred dangerous people in this building who have a long-standing grudge against Joel Miller or the man he worked for. A hundred people who would take you as collateral the moment you stepped outside the grounds. But as long as you remain inside, you’re safe.

He just needs to finish the job. He needs to see it through, and he’ll be out. You’ll realise he’s done it all for you.

I loved you.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he watches the rise and fall of your chest beneath the sheets. He broke your heart last night. He watched you turn in on yourself, your eyes so cold, so far away. He listened to you scream, and inside he pleaded: Keep hitting me, baby. Keep shouting. Be mad. He wanted you loud and furious and spitting fire. If you were angry, you still cared. He could work with that. 

And to see you walk away, the fire frozen over, the fight in your marrow sucked out… 

The anguish of losing your ire still stirs in his chest. The guilt peels him away in layers. Acid. 

She’ll understand, he tells himself, you, anyone who’ll listen. She’ll get it someday—why I did it, why I lied. She’ll forgive me.

Forgive me, baby. Don’t let me live the rest of this life never seeing you smile.

“Stop looking at me,” you grumble, your eyes still closed.

Joel averts his eyes. His throat feels tight. “You sleep okay?”

You haul yourself upright and stretch out your back. Joel studies the curve of your spine and the nape of your neck. You’re the muse painters rave about. The reflections of sunlight on water at dusk. The pond of water lilies. 

“You didn’t. Your sheets haven’t even moved.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

You give him a heavy look, your eyes bleary with sleep. “You managed all those years before me, Joel. Let’s not do this.”

“What if I want to do this?” he says, dropping to the floor next to your bed and taking your hands in his. You try to pry yourself free, but he drops his head and traps you in his rapt vigil. 

“Joel…” Your voice is still groggy, but there’s agony in the way you say his name.

“You’re my wife,” he says against your skin. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. You’re the girl I saw that night in the restaurant with the pretty eyes and you’re the girl I called every night just so I could hear your voice, and you’re always gonna be the only fucking girl for me. You’re my reason for everything, baby. I need you. Please… please just understand. You have to know that.”

You’re silent for a long while, your legs curled under you as your own husband kneels as if in prayer. Your throat burns with more tears you have little energy left to shed. You whisper his name.

He looks up and you find you cannot meet his eyes. So you stare at one of the patches of skin that disrupt the brown-grey of his beard. “That first night at the restaurant,” you say, trepidation colouring your voice blue, “you disappeared after the second course. When you came back, you told me you had to take a call. Was that the truth?”

Joel’s eyes are frantic in their search for an answer. “Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t lie to me again. Was that the truth?”

“There—” His voice cuts off, his eyes shuttering. “There was a target. That’s… why I was there in the first place.”

Your sob dies in your chest. It doesn’t even make a noise. You wrench your hands out of his, and he lets you, still kneeling at your bedside like a lost sinner. “Love has never been the problem. You might love me, but you’ve never told me the truth. Not from the first day.”

One of his hands wraps around your ankle. “I wanted out. I wanted out my whole life, and you’re the one who made me find the way. Cabrera, he… He gave me an impossible task. I completed it. And I gave you this ring.” He brushes his thumb over the knuckles of your third finger where your bands are still secure. “You said yes. You married me. Doesn’t this mean something?”

The sound of your hollow laugh hurts more than any words you could use to cut him. “It did,” you confess, “when I knew exactly who my husband was.”

He shakes his head, his lips parting in another desperate cast, but you’re standing up and crossing the room, gathering your toiletries for the bathroom. “What happens now?” you ask. 

Joel stares at the ring on his finger. “I’m going to talk to the Manager. You have to stay here.”

“Okay,” you say softly. Your back is rigid. “Just tell me something.”

“Anything,” says Joel. 

“If I asked to leave,” you whisper, “would you let me go?”

Joel feels his heart crack in two. He remembers the small outdoor wedding, in the heart of May, when he’d seen you walk down the aisle toward him and struggled to find the words, as he always did, that would be good enough. 

I vow to love you, he'd said, his hands trembling as he took yours. I vow to be your partner in all things. I vow to show you every piece of my soul, the way you've given me yours, and to be gentle with your heart. 

I vow to be the man you want, the man you need, and the man you love. 

He’s failed. He knows that. But you smiled at him that day, your eyes brimming with tears that turned black from your mascara, and you kissed him before the officiant said the words. 

I loved you.

“I’d do anything you asked me to,” he says, “but not that.”

Joel made a stop at the Continental Tailor before he went to find the Manager in the lounge. He paid the Tailor a bit too much for the new suit, he realises now, the sleeves a bit too tight, the pants not quite tapered. He was dressing a different body than the one he knew all those years ago. 

Joel weaves through the darkness as a crooning voice sings something about evil men up on the stage. The band is playing along, a smooth jazz tune, and the bodies around him smell of expensive cologne and perfume and vodka. He remembers with a start why he hated this place so much. 

Adjusting his jacket, he finds the Manager sitting in the VIP section on a long curved booth upholstered in crimson velvet, sipping a dry martini. 

“Joel,” he says, lifting his glass in toast. 

“Bill.”

The Manager doesn't look particularly thrilled. “You know there’s an open contract on your head. Who did you have to kill to end up back here?”

“Just a couple people.” Joel sits opposite him. “I need information.”

“And you're here on more business. Does your consort have anything to say about that?”

Joel curls his fingers into a fist atop the table. “I’m invoking my guest privileges. And she is my wife.”

Bill sniffs in amusement. “So, you did end up marrying the gal. Good for you, Joel. She's a stunner.”

“Fuck you, Bill.”

A short, booming laugh. “Nobody will so much as look her way. You have my word and all it means.”

“Doesn't mean much,” says Joel. “I’m just visiting.”

“Don't be the idiot I know you aren’t,” says Bill, leaning forward and setting his glass aside. “You dip so much as a pinky back in this pond, and you won’t get out so easy. Sometime, somewhere, someone’s going to come to you with another impossible task.”

“And I’ll complete it,” says Joel. “Emiliano Cabrera. Where is he?”

“You really wanna do this, Joel?”

“Yeah.”

“Your wife may be safe now, but she won’t be forever.”

“That’s why I’m going to finish it. That’s why I’m going to kill him.”

The Manager sighs, polishing off his martini. “You know damn well business will not be conducted on Continental grounds, Joel. You may as well go have a drink at the bar, take a load off. I can’t tell you anything while you’re inside my hotel.” 

Joel suspected as much. “Then tell me something you can.”

Bill’s nostrils flare and Joel feels some satisfaction knowing he can still push the old man’s buttons. “I’ll tell you what: the game has changed since you left it. Your only chance is to get out now, while you still can. What could possibly warrant the Boogeyman reentering the fold?”

Joel licks his teeth. Your eyes blurring with tears as your skull connected with the ground, your body going limp as he stood above you. The clink of a belt buckle echoes still in his head. If he hadn’t been fast enough—

“It’s personal.”

Bill’s gaze dips. “Well,” he says, “then, unofficially, I wish you the best of luck. But, as a former friend”—Joel snorts —“let me give you a piece of advice. Take your wife home and forget about all of this. I like you, Joel, but for her sake and yours, I’d rather never see you again.”

Joel doesn’t take it personally. “Tell Frank I said hello.”

Bill grabs a full glass from a passing server. “Fuck you, Joel.”

He nods his head, closing the lapels of his jacket and slipping the first button through the opposite slit. As the singer on the stage transitions into the next song, Joel orders a glass of bourbon and watches the bartender slide his drink over on a pristine white napkin. 

“On the house, per the Manager’s request,” says the bartender. “Welcome back, Mr. Miller.”

Pristine—save for the small red circle drawn with marker on the centre. Across the bar, Bill raises his glass in another toast, and Joel leaves the lounge, his drink untouched. 

It’s a Tuesday night, and the Red Circle is lined up around the corner. One must know someone to get inside, and that someone must be a paying member. Joel had a membership by default, being contracted under Cabrera, but it was revoked along with his other privileges once he had completed his task. 

You would hate this place. It’s throbbing bass and flashing neon lights and sweat-slick bodies rubbing up against one another. It’s brick and industrial metal and glass and the people don’t mix, either. 

Maybe part of him is hedonistic, too. He doesn’t think he ever used to be. The job gave him wealth to spend that he never cared to; when he met you, he began to understand the pleasure of material things. Gold shone when it hung around your neck and wrapped around your fingers. Diamonds glittered like the jewels in a crown when you wore them on your ears. And when he pulled you close to him for the first time, undressing you slowly, hooking his fingers in the lace panties he’d bought for you and bringing his mouth to the heat between your legs, Joel began to understand the draw of pleasure. 

It isn’t that he’d never had sex before you. He’d just… never been interested before you. Bodies always felt… too cold. They were complex. They were things to be followed, things to be killed. They were names on a piece of paper. They would bleed all their warmth and light into his palms and he would return, limping, to a house he never cared about and absolve himself of red. He’d never known the thrill of a body until he tucked his hand under the soft swell of your naked breast and put his mouth on yours and felt your heartbeat bleed into his hands. He never wanted to wash it off. 

If I asked to leave, would you let me go?

After the orphanage, Joel visited a church only once. 

He hadn’t meant to find it. He’d heard an organ humming from within. The cathedral was taller than it was wide, built for a small gathering. He’d slipped inside during a sermon, delivered by a pastor with white hair and a pair of wilting hands. Joel watched the tremors pass through his face, the agonising pulse of the vein in his throat, the way he would gulp down mouthfuls of water. He spoke with rhythm, with melody, and when he was finished, he grasped the edges of the pulpit, his head bowed in silent prayer. Joel thought he had never seen a more devoted man in his life. 

When the sermon was over, he waited his turn to speak with the pastor. He did not know why. He hadn’t felt a stirring in his chest at the word of God; he never had.

I’ve never seen you in here before, my son.

Joel shook his head, frowning at the ground. I… left the faith, in a way. When I was young. I’m… sorry.

Devotion is a choice, said the pastor, taking Joel’s hands in his own. They were wrinkled, speckled with age spots. Joel lifted his gaze to find the pastor smiling. As with all things in life. Devotion, my son, is not a birthright. We must find it. Though it may not be His word, you will know someone’s word. And you’ll find it will move you enough that you choose to follow it. To whatever end. 

Joel has been slashed, burned, drowned, whipped, beaten, strangled. He could count the telltale black spots in his eyes like dreamers count sheep. He developed a reputation because he was good at what he did. He was efficient, fast, lethal. He once killed three men in a bar with a pencil, they whispered. A fucking pencil. Word in the Underworld spread of a boogeyman who would take your life in your sleep if you wronged the wrong person, if you were just an unlucky bastard.

Their word never mattered. He’d never knelt in the blood of a victim and prayed for absolution. He would never find it, anyway. His soul was black. 

If I asked to leave, would you let me go?

No word has ever cut so deep as yours. How could he wake up every single day next to the love of his life and lie so easily to your face? How could he put a ring on your finger knowing damn well he’d betrayed your trust every second of your time together and you never even knew about it?

How could he wear the mask of your husband and dream of blood on the very same hands that touched you each night?

Joel checks his watch. It’s one o'clock in the morning. You’ve been sleeping since breakfast. You won’t sleep a wink tonight if this keeps up, but it seems you’d rather do anything in the world than speak with him. 

He doesn’t blame you.

He found his word that night in the restaurant. He’d followed it, followed you, wherever you took him. And he will follow you, his almighty word, beyond the grave, to whatever end you decide. 

He will not abandon his faith. His purpose. He will not throw up his hands and let you walk away. He’s made mistakes he cannot mend. He can’t go back to the day you met and tell you all he should have, rules be fucked. He cannot fix what he’s already broken. You cannot put a piece of tape over fractured glass, a bloodied hand over wounded skin. 

He made his fucking vows. It’s time he lived up to them.

Across the street, Joel watches, turning over the knife in his pocket by the hilt. Emiliano Cabrera and his lackeys step out of Joel’s Mustang and toss the keys to the valet. They skip the line, smacking one another around and jeering at the ladies in line, and Joel feels the hunger pull at his teeth. 

His first target is posted by the east entrance. Joel takes the alley, stepping aside trash bags brimming with used needles and slipping the Glock from the lining of his jacket. The weight of it is formidable in his hand. Under the cover of dark, he slides into a second skin, black as the names they call him. Bringing the gun to the back of the guard’s head, he watches those huge shoulders stiffen.

“Francis,” he says politely.

“Joel,” says the guard. 

“Workin’ late?”

“Why?” says Francis. “You want in?”

“Yeah,” says Joel, “I do. You lost weight.”

“Twenty-seven pounds, if you’ll believe it.”

Fuck. 

Twenty-seven guards tasked with protecting the little shit. Joel may have a reputation, but it’s been years. He was ambushed in his own home last night. And after it all, he’d let the bastard slip between his fingers. 

“Why don’t you take the night off?”

Francis lowers one meaty hand to the piece in his ear and takes it out. Turning his head, he says, “Can you at least lower the gun?”

Joel does. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“Word’s going around. They say you’re back.”

“I’m just passin’ through.” 

“Sure, Joel.” Francis offers his hand, and Joel shakes. “You better make it quick. I don’t feel like getting fired.”

“Understood.” Joel slips inside, letting the door click shut behind him. 

Even from afar, the music lives in his chest, a writhing thing that seeks departure by way of his throat. He tries to swallow and it wriggles back up again. The bass throbs hard against his ribs. 

There’s a bathroom on the VIP floor. As he sneaks by the frosted glass partition that separates him from the public, Joel hears the squeak of locker doors. He puts his palm on the door and pushes inside.

Did you see the tits on that girl? says one man in Spanish. Emil got a pretty one.

Another lets out a booming laugh. Shut the fuck up, man. Good pussy and you tuck your tail and run.

Yeah? And you're in here because you scored? 

I’m in here because bitches prefer to choke on clean dick. What's your excuse?

Neither feels the breeze of the shadow slipping behind them. Neither of them sees the man in black lock his arm around one of their necks and squeeze until there's no air left. By the time the other has turned on the porcelain sink and begun to splash his face, the boogeyman has him by the scruff of his neck, fisting the collar of his fluffy white bathrobe. The sink continues running, and he’s choking on the warm water as Joel holds him down.

“Jesus! Fuck!”

“Where is Emiliano?”

“Vete a la mierda,” he splutters. “Let go of me, motherfucker!”

Joel takes one of the man’s fingers and bends it all the way back. His screams are muffled by Joel’s hand.

“Where is Emiliano?”

“The bathhouse, downstairs,” he groans. “Fuck, let me go, pendejo!”

Joel bares his teeth, breaks the man’s neck, and leaves him slumped over the sink, the water still running. 

The bathhouse is doused in red and blue. The water is illuminated from within, and the whites in his victim’s eyes glow where he stands half-submerged, toasting a bottle of champagne to his rowdy friends. Joel flattens himself to the wall, listening for the tread of dress shoes. The music pounds too loudly for him to hear, but he can see the shadow before he sees its owner. 

“Clear,” says the voice. 

When he rounds the corner, Joel drives his knife into the man’s throat and silences his gurgling moans by clamping a hand over his mouth. He slides down the wall, and Joel holds his gaze while the light slowly dims in his eyes. 

One. 

Two more men are waiting behind the partition, hands folded in front of them. Joel does not recognise them. Their suits are pressed, Italian; it seems Cabrera has made some alliances. Joel lies his first victim on the ground and prowls toward his next two. 

They go easily: unsuspecting, they bleed out under his blade, choking on their blood, and he leaves them lying by the foggy partition. Three. 

The music is dreamy, the crooning of two voices set to a throbbing track. In the bathhouse, he hears the sloshing of water and the singing of a group of men nearby. They're singing an old folk song, Joel realises. A song about a ghost. 

Hurry, fall asleep, or the Boogeyman will come for you…

They don't sound particularly frightened by the spectre haunting them. Joel watches them toast their bottles of champagne and grab the waitresses’ asses. It's Emiliano and his friends, all right. Joel spots another five guards around the waist-deep water and another two by the doors upstairs. 

There's a childlike self-assuredness about him—this kid. He thinks he's protected, safe, almighty as God. He sings about Joel and smiles. 

A guard leans over him and sneers. “You need to stop drinking.”

“Are you scared of the fucking boogeyman?” jeers the kid. “I’m not! Hijo de puta.”

The guard plucks the bottle from his hand and passes it off. “You wanna vomit while you run away? Or would you just prefer to get shot in the head?”

Emiliano’s haughty sniff makes Joel wonder if a bullet in the head is retribution enough. “Get me another fucking bottle!” he says to his friend. 

Joel picks up a bottle of complimentary cologne and tosses it. The glass shatters, potent liquid pooling on the shiny floor. Three guards flank the partition. The music is too loud to let the sounds of his blade in flesh seep through. 

Six. 

On the other side of the glass, coloured blue and red and slick with humidity, the singing continues. 

From the swamp he will come…

He feels the wet splash of blood on his face. 

… and take the children that don't behave. 

Another man rounds the corner as Joel is tearing the knife from the last guard’s throat. He doesn't have enough time to slash his throat, so he pulls the handgun from his holster and shoots. He crumples to the floor, but Joel’s cover is blown. 

“He’s here! Miller’s here!”

The partition explodes. Glass rains on him as he rolls to evade the gunfire, raising his barrel to strike at the remaining guards. 

Seven. Eight. 

The men by the stairs are shouting some Spanish, some Italian. The music carries on, but the song they're singing has ended. 

Joel finds the man he's been looking for: hiding behind a petrified waitress, Emiliano Cabrera looks like a goddamn child. He's wrapped himself hastily in a bath towel around his waist, and his eyes are wide as saucers. Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m going to enjoy this a little. 

He locks eyes with Emiliano for only a moment. The guards at the top of the stairs begin to fire at Joel. He ducks behind the wall as shots chip brick from the wall or plunk uselessly in the water. By the time he flanks them around the other side of the wall and brings them tumbling down the stairs—ten—the kid has already run. Joel growls at the loss of the kill and follows him into the club. 

With an eruption of deafening music, Joel bursts into the crowd. Behind him, a gigantic LED screen is illuminated with spirals in red and blue and white. Women dance in elevated cages while the crowd below becomes a sea of skin and sequins and sweat. Joel reloads, checks the clip, and resumes his hunt. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Joel feels the punch of the barrel into their chests as he fires, again and again and again. The commotion is lost in the din of the music and dancing. Bodies connect and grind and Joel kills. 

Fourteen. A guard by the wall. Fifteen. Another lurking by the LED spirals. Sixteen, seventeen—two men rushing him in an attempt to ambush, eyes wild with rage and a bit of fear. Joel puts them down like sick dogs and continues to push through the crowd, his eyes locked on the retreating Emiliano, who's waving a gun about like a white flag. 

But it's no surrender. It's a beacon, a sign that the deer is spooked. Joel feels his lip curl. So frightened, he thinks. 

Eighteen, nineteen…

Your bleary eyes, blinking through the pain, limbs limp and helpless as he unbuckled his belt above you. A cut on your face, barely bleeding. The red still consumes him. 

You were so afraid that night. 

Twenty. 

Twenty-one. 

He's getting closer. The crowd parts down the centre as Joel marches toward his goal. But the music is loud and he does not hear the approach from behind. 

The gunshot grazes his shoulder, but he feels the flare of pain ooze its way down his arm. Joel grunts, knocked askew from his path, and turns to forge at his assailant. 

The man is fast, though, and rushes him. The tackle brings him down to the ground, winding him just enough to briefly stun, to send his Glock spinning along the floor. He’s taller, broader, madder. 

But he shoots one-handed. 

Joel knocks the gun aside and it misfires into the gap in the crowd. In the dispersing, he sees more guards closing in his periphery. The only protection he has is the hulking body on top of him. So Joel uses it, bringing his elbow to the man’s throat and bunching the lapel of his jacket in his fist. The guard attempts to reach for the blade in his thigh holster, but Joel reaches down and bends his arm backward until the crunch crackles in his ear. The man howls, and Joel grasps the hilt of the knife. 

Twenty-two. 

He picks up his gun and fires a shot into each of the three approaching guards, but Emiliano has fled to the first floor. Joel grimaces as he stands, blood on his fingertips where he's prodded the wound in his arm. “Goddammit,” he mutters, following his target upstairs. 

The air is dizzying. Hot. Joel never liked clubs. He hated the closeness and the bodies in cages and the way skin felt so sticky, too tight, like he needed to step outside of it. He hated the feeling of being suffocated by strangers, as if any of them could be lurking low in the darkness, waiting to strike. 

He didn't understand the lure of the scantily-clad body until he saw you wrapped in a tight black dress. He didn't know the pleasure of dancing until you took his hand one night, his old vinyl player crackling out Frank Sinatra, and lay your head on his shoulder. It felt like stepping over the threshold into consecrated territory. He should not be touching you. But you were touching him. 

Joel spots Emiliano running for the back entrance, shoving another guard in Joel’s path. 

Twenty-six. 

The final man, approaching Joel from the lounge, pulls his gun in time to shoot, but not in time for Joel to notice. The bullet shatters a glass of wine and topples a waiter’s tray. Joel fires. 

One to go. 

He has no choice but to lunge for the kid before he can run out into the street. Joel’s heart is pounding in his chest, his blood electrified. The take-down is sloppy and his ankle rolls, but Emiliano Cabrera is pinned beneath him and yelping like a kicked dog. 

“My father will kill you,” he gasps, his cheek pressed to the floor.

“Your father knows exactly why I’m here,” says Joel, “and he knows how stupid you are.”

“Hijo de puta, it was just a fucking car,” he spits. “I was just going to have some fun with your bitch. I would've given her back.”

Joel isn't quite satisfied. He turns the kid onto his back and grasps him by the jaw, forcing him to meet Joel’s incendiary gaze. 

“Everything has a price.”

The knife goes in smoothly, the flat of the blade glinting in his gaping mouth. No light flees his eyes. There is nothing but cold slate-grey. And although Joel feels no happiness feeling the pulse slow to a crawl beneath his palm, he does not pull the knife out. 

Your body, sacred, helpless, lying on the floor. A predator’s gaze. The clink of a belt buckle. Joel steps over the body and leaves, limping to the valet and slipping him a golden coin. He slips back inside his Mustang, turns on the engine, and drives back to the hotel. 

You’re tucked in the alcove by the window, staring out at the moonlit night. Your chin rests on your knees as you hug yourself close. The lamp between your respective beds colours the room orange. 

“You’re limping.” 

You haven’t even turned to face him.

“How—”

“I know how you sound when you walk.” Your temple is cool where it rests on the windowpane, your breath frosting the glass. Joel staggers to the small table and braces himself on the back of a chair as he watches you. 

You’re as warm and bright as the day he found you that night in the restaurant. Your eyes may be a little older, but the glow is the same. He folds his bleeding hands around the back of the chair. Everything around you curls in, darkens, and wilts when it confronts your beauty. 

“I’m all right.” He doesn’t deserve your concern. He’ll swallow any bullet to keep you from worrying.

You stand at last and cross the room to face him. His heart jumps like it’s the first time you asked him on a date. Like the first time he kissed you, his chest taut with tension and nerves and the assumption that you’d reject him. 

“You can lie to me about lots of things, Joel, but I know this face.” The pad of your thumb ghosts over the crease between his brows. “I’ve painted it a hundred times. It doesn't lie.”

It's the first time you've touched him in days. Joel closes his eyes. Part of him, the part that jolts back to life under the tender weight of your soft skin, means it when he says, “I’m okay.”

You seem to ponder him for a moment. “This wouldn't be the first time I patched you up,” you say, as if resigned. “Go on. Bathroom.”

He winces. “You don't have to—”

“Go. And afterward, you can tell me everything.”

The pads of your fingers memorise the ridges on the gold coin. The time is close to dawn. 

He’s no longer bleeding, and although you have nothing close to the Doctor’s prowess, you’ve managed to disinfect and wrap the wound in his arm. You can’t do anything about his ankle, but it’s a sprain; he’ll heal in time. The mangled black and blue on his tender skin reminds you of a night sky without the stars. It doesn’t seem to pain him. It only makes you wonder what sorts of agonies he’s faced—ones you never knew about.

The hurt has festered in your time away from him. He’s an open wound in the shape of a hand on your back, searing cold through to your heart. The hand sports a golden band, and it reflects in the one you still wear. You don't quite know what to make of it now. 

He looks exactly like the man you knew. Not a part of him has changed—he's still scruffy, still tired, still jaggedly gorgeous. You paint him with blurred edges, with blues and greys. Your heart still pulls when you look at him. Your chest still gapes wide open, and he digs his thumbs into the bruises. He lied to you. He broke your trust. And there's still so much of your Joel in him, from the skin to the bones. 

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, turning the coin over. 

“Technically, it’s not money,” Joel says. “It is currency. They can be exchanged for favours, information, relationships.”

“A hotel room,” you add. “Good to know I don’t have to move any savings around. Where have you been keeping these?”

“There’s a safe in the basement,” he says, “under the floorboards. When I left, I buried all of it. Weapons, coins, contacts, anything I had from the Underworld.”

The Underworld. A fitting name, if you’ve made any sense of it at all. “Do the police know about all of this?”

“Most of them are in the pockets of High Table members. Those are the ones who control how it all works. Rules and consequences,” says Joel, “is how they operate. They're what separate us from the animals.”

You lift your brows. “And who sits at this High Table?”

“Twelve leaders. They're the ones who run most of the major crime families and organisations. They control police, politicians, banks—”

Your shuddering sigh makes him stop in his tracks. He watches you lean back in the chair and bends forward slightly, as if tied to you by an invisible thread. 

“So… the girl who serves me coffee on the corner by my office could be part of it.” You frown at the coin in your hand. “She could be a witness, a runner, a messenger. She could be like you.”

“She isn't,” says Joel, “but that is the general idea.”

“But civilians are immune.”

“More or less,” says Joel. “There are… heavy penalties for harming them.”

“Penalties like death.”

“Most of the time,” he says. “And there are rules here, too. No business can be conducted on the grounds of any Continental hotel.”

“Any? You mean—”

“There's a Continental in every major city in the world. It's where we go to remind ourselves we’re civilised.”

“Civilised,” you scoff. “Civilised murder, sure. I’m buying it. And now that you’re back—”

“Visiting.”

You just glare at him, and he ducks his head. 

“—there's a contract on your head.”

Joel nods. “Two million.”

You curl your fingers over the coin in your palm as your stomach bottoms out. “That's a lot of incentive to put a bullet in your brain.”

“They won't,” he says. “Cabrera holds the contract, and he only opened it because of Emiliano. He’d pull it the second I agreed to stop looking for his son. He doesn't want me owing him.”

“I don't know if I’d call that a debt.”

“Considering everything I did for him,” says Joel, a bite to his voice, “anything short of killin' his kid is a favour.”

Despite yourself, you open your hand and slide the coin toward him. “Tell me what you did.”

His head shoots up, his brows knitted together. “What?”

“Tell me what you did to get out. Tell me about this ‘impossible task.’”

“Baby, that’s…” He rubs his hand across his jaw, and it strikes you then how deep those half-circles colour the space beneath his eyes. 

“Stop,” you whisper. It never used to hurt when he called you baby. “Tell me how much blood you thought I was worth.”

Joel’s jaw ticks. His knees barely touch yours under the table. “You don't wanna hear the answer to that.”

“Then start here. What did you do, Joel?”

The sigh he releases feels heavy. “I came to Cabrera, asking him to release me from my contract. He told me he'd let me out, no strings attached… if I hunted down his enemies.” 

Your mouth drops. “Which enemies?”

He picks up the coin and turns it over in his palm. The silence drops an anchor on the ground. Your belly churns with the movement of the golden piece as it catches the light. 

“All of them,” says Joel. “All of ‘em, in one night. That was his impossible task.”

The scrape of your chair legs across the floor is grating. But you stand anyway, your head vaguely stirring with the beginnings of a headache. 

“Oh my God.” 

You barely feel your own hand on your cheek, barely smell the iron tang of blood on him, barely see the red cutting through his pressed white shirt. “How many people?”

Joel shakes his head, his shy eyes lowered, still as the paintings you've made of him. “I… I don't know.” 

I lost count, he means. There were too many, he means. 

Your throat is just wide enough to let your breath escape. The air you take in feels poisonous. He killed every single one of them. All because he wanted to marry you. 

All because he wanted peace. 

“Is there anyone in the Underworld who doesn’t know your name?”

Joel’s repentant silence, head ducked as if in prayer, is all the answer you need.

“How did this happen?” Your voice is uniquely quiet. 

“When I was a kid,” he says, and your heart sinks, “I lived on the streets. Lived like a rat, mostly, but I survived. You know that much.”

You nod solemnly, lowering yourself into the chair once more. “The Sisters reunited you with your brother.”

His dark eyes reflect the lamplight and it resembles a flame igniting in the depths of the iris. “Found me on Canal Street, runnin’ drugs for a mobster I don't even remember. Tommy was only five, but he must've told them about me. They took me to the orphanage and started my training.”

You swallow, your temples pounding. Deep in your gut, something wild and dry begins to kindle. “They were the ones who taught you all of this?”

“They teach the word of God above everythin’ else, but yeah. They train children to thrive in the Underworld. We were taught knives, guns, hand-to-hand. Hell, they even taught us how to dance—how to move faster than the opponent. I knew how to kill someone before I could read.” Joel chuckles, and part of you thinks he actually thinks it's funny. “Probably why I’m so slow.”

You aren't slow, you want to say. You've never been slow, not from the first day. 

The kindling curls and you can feel your mouth pull at the corners. He had only been a child. An orphan. A child had no way to choose, to resist how they were raised. He hadn’t been given a choice—his life in exchange for a roof over his head. 

“Those fucking bastards.”

Joel’s laugh is mirthless. “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

You angrily swipe the tears that warm your cheeks. “No adult should have that power. They should nurture and comfort and protect, not—” Your breath hitches. “You were a child. You didn't deserve that.”

Your fingers have curled into a fist atop the table. With both hands, he gently lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. You expect it to feel foreign, wrong. It just feels like Joel. 

“The Sisters were cruel,” he says softly. “But I made myself into a weapon. It was the only way I would survive.” He reaches out as if for a wounded deer and brushes his thumb over your jaw. “They never made me believe, sweetheart. That was all you.”

You sniffle, your head bobbing absently. You don't know what to think. You don't know how to feel. Your own husband has been through the seven circles and crawled back out only to teeter back over the pit once more. There’s an ancient weariness in the black of his eyes, an old hurt, a mansion slowly crumbling at the edges. 

“You hid this all from me, and never told anyone,” you say, the ache widening. You find you want to assume, consume, even a modicum of the pain that he's felt. 

One of his shoulders lifts in a mild shrug. “I wanted to forget all of it. I wanted to make something of the new life I’d killed for.” He meets your gaze and you swear part of the open wound in his pupils has sealed. “I didn't want any of it to touch you.”

And you remember lying in bed with him that first night, after that first time, tracing a scar on his back. White and ridged, it spread like lightning feelers from the middle of his spine to the dimples in his lower back. 

You'd put your mouth to his shoulder blade and felt him melt into you. 

What happened? 

The silence that followed could have heard the brush of a feather over skin. 

I was raised in an orphanage. In a church. They weren't kind. 

And that was that. You'd prodded and fussed and he'd said I’m fine. It was a long time ago. 

“But that's what you do, Joel,” you tell him. “You hide your hurt and you bury your feelings and you do it all because you're afraid it'll make everyone leave you.” 

Sometimes he would wake in a cold sweat, heaving, tossing aside the sheets, but he would never make a sound. You'd see him, pretending to sleep, and place your hand over his chest. His fingers would grasp yours as if marooned on the water, seeking driftwood, his hand suffocating yours. He'd keep it pressed to his heart until the beats slowed. 

You regret those times you never pressed. In a way, you were afraid, too. If you opened your eyes, if you asked him to confess, he would close the lattice and turn his back to you. You didn't want to lose him, either. 

But you did. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but it doesn't hold the weight you want it to. It doesn't blow out the candles in the cathedral. It doesn't pluck the scared little boy from the streets or give him a warm bed. It doesn't stop the beatings and the lashings and the pain. 

It does not pry the pain from his heart and bury the shrapnel in your chest instead. It is something he bears, as he always has, and must. It is something you cannot take from him. And you feel more helpless than you ever have. 

He shakes his head. “I know we can't go back,” he says, tracing one of the little daisy charms on your bracelet. “But it feels… good. It feels good to finally tell you. Even if we were too late.”

The sound of his voice breaking shakes your heart loose from your rib cage. 

“Come to bed.” Your voice is raw and used. “Just… come to bed, and sleep.” 

He doesn't dare look hopeful, though you can see the tremor that courses through his hand. He wants to take yours, the way he did the day he proposed, dropping to one knee with your palms flush. 

He looked a little hopeful that day, too. With rapt attention, he'd taken hold of you and said, I love you. I love you more than anything. You’re my best friend. Will you marry me? Will you let me be your husband?

You realise now why he'd let himself hope. He'd gotten out. He'd started his new life. With you. 

You can see his old scars, even in the dark. You think, in all your time together, you've learned his body as you learn the earth you tread upon. The praying hands of Dürer lie beneath the name inked in small black lettering. 

Your name. 

You gingerly reach out and place your hand on his back. Joel shudders. He does not turn to face you where you both lie on your sides. 

“If you bleed on the bed sheets,” you say to the darkness, “will management make us pay?”

He chuckles. “Strongly worded phone call at best. I’ll take the hit.”

You frown, ghosting your fingers over the tender skin around the makeshift patch job on his shoulder. “Does it still hurt?” 

“No,” he says, leaning into your touch, “not anymore.”

“You never told me about this scar on your back.” You touch the edges of the puckered skin. “I never stopped wondering. But I should never have stopped asking.”

“Don't,” he says quietly. “Don’t say any of that like it's your fault.”

The silence bleeds as viscous as an open gash into the dry air. His watch broke the day of your wedding. He told you it was all right, that we've got all the time in the world, and you'd kissed him and laughed. He’d replaced the battery since then, but sometimes the little hand lags behind, as if afraid to chug forward. Afraid to let time, of all silly, trivial things, consume your world. 

“Do you remember your vows?” you ask him. 

“‘Course I do.” 

“Do you remember mine?”

His head bows slightly on the pillow. “‘I vow to be your partner in all things,’” he recites. “‘I vow to protect your heart like it's my own. I vow to take your pain, and to shoulder it so you don't have to.’” 

The tears saturate the pillowcase beneath your cheek. You fall asleep with your arm around his waist, your hand next to his, not touching, but nearly. 

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