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Its really hard being the funniest mother 3 fan in 202X

REBLOGS OVER LIKES

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Khione!! You make me fall in love with this couple over and over again!! I just love this drabble about them! It shows just how smitten with each other they are. "...but you know his eyes hold your galaxies and you'll never get tired of drowning in them." 😍 What beautiful writing! Thank you for sharing this!!

my way to you special: in the moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing towards the end, they love each other so much it's unreal D:

➝ word count: 2.6~k

A/N: hi! another short one to celebrate my 3k milestone. i've missed this couple too and i'm just so so soft for them <//3 once again, thank you for your support and please enjoy this little gift. don't hesitate to drop by and tell me your thoughts too!

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

“So.”

“So?” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow, wondering what you’re up to.

“The wedding is next week.” You nudge him with a cheeky smile. “You ready?”

He rolls his eyes and nudges you back, then laughs when you stumble a little because he forgot just how easy you lose your balance.

“It’s Jinyoung’s wedding, why would I need to be ready?”

“Best man stuff.” You shrug as you lean over to hug his arm and claim the rightful spot that is his shoulder.

You’re currently out for a walk with Wonwoo, because it’s nice out and you’re a little too full from the lunch you’ve just had with him. You smile as you see a dog running in your direction, hugging yourself closer to Wonwoo to make ways for the owner to pass you.

“You know it’s just formality. I don’t even know why he needs a best man.”

“Formality is right. Let’s not have those for our wedding.” You say absentmindedly, not even looking at him.

Wonwoo bites his lip to suppress a stupid smile at your comment about your (currently) nonexistent wedding plan. You’ve been doing that a lot since Jinyoung’s wedding preparation; mentioning what to do at your wedding even though none of you has talked about marriage just yet.

Yes, you both know you’re going to marry each other and it definitely will happen someday. But it’s not like he’s proposed yet and he’s starting to think that he should do it soon now that you keep on mentioning it.

Is this you sending him codes?

He doubts. You’re usually very straightforward with what you want from him, even more when it comes to your relationship.

So, you talking about these things can only mean one thing: you’re already more than comfortable with the idea of marriage (hopefully only with him). He probably should start planning for a proposal after Jinyoung’s wedding.

“Why are you smiling by yourself, you weirdo?” You frown with a concerned look, stopping on your track. Wonwoo simply shakes his head and pulls you with him again, and he doesn’t even indulge you when you keep on insisting to find out what’s inside his mind.

You really should’ve known by now it’s only you in his mind and he has no plan in changing it.

[✾✾✾]

“Princess, I think you’ve tried enough already.” He pretends to be reluctant when you insist on going into one more shop for a dress. But, really, he’s just afraid his heart wouldn’t be able to take it if he sees you in one more dress.

He doesn’t see why you thought every single one you’ve tried on has some sort of flaws. Whatever it is, Wonwoo definitely can’t tell because you seem perfect in each one of them. Plus, it doesn’t help that he keeps on imagining you with a wedding dress everytime you come out of the fitting room to give him a twirl.

Fuck, can you be more adorable than you already are?

“Last one, I promise.” You pull him with no effort, because despite the fact that he’s whining for you to stop, he’s still an absolute simp when it comes to you so there’s no way he’d be able to say no under any circumstances. “If I still don’t find any, we’ll have dinner and head home?”

Home means Wonwoo’s place. And despite the fact that you’ve been addressing it as such since a few months back and you’ve been practically living in his place since the moment he moved in, it still warms his heart everytime he hears you call it home.

Seungcheol doesn’t even drive you to your place anymore after office unless you specifically say so.

“Why don’t you just make your own dress?” He suggests. “Don’t you do that sometimes?”

“The designer that makes my clothes is on maternity leave and I only like her works.”

“Clearly you’re not liking any of these, too.” He says before he even realizes, then winces when you hit his shoulder. You can really hit when you want to is something that Wonwoo has learned throughout the years he’s been with you. “Alright, come on. But I get to choose dinner.”

Wonwoo should’ve tried harder to convince you to go shopping with Chaeyoung. Because now his heart is about to burst at how fucking beautiful you look wrapped in a rose gold colored dress that hugs your body just right, falling just right below your knees. Some part of your skin is peeking through the sheer material, and he almost wants you to not like this because there’s no way in hell he is going to be able to stand you looking like this for hours straight.

“I take that you like this one?” You giggle at his expression; mouth ajar and eyes blown open though nothing escapes his lips.

“You look beautiful.” He says, almost like in a trance when he stands up to look at you closer.

It’s unfair just how beautiful you look, alright.

“A little too beautiful.”

You scrunch your nose at that, though your heart is beating in a messy rhythm. Wonwoo does that sometimes; gets severely honest during this kinda moment that he’s almost cheesy had this been any other situation. But you’re not complaining, and you can only whisper a small ‘really?’ because you’re suddenlt shy under his gaze.

“This is the dress, then.”

That was why you insisted on going shopping with him, alright.

[✾✾✾]

“How are you feeling?” You hold Jisoo’s hand, careful not to ruin anything even though there’s really nothing you can ruin by holding her hand. 

She looks like the pristine picture of a bride. She’s the bride, you decide. You’ve attended enough weddings to be able to tell when the bride is happy or is standing there against her will, but you’ve never seen a bride glowing as much as Jisoo is right now.

She’s radiating with all the good things in the world; she’s so in love and so happy that she’s not having cold feet at all. She’s so sure; in the promise of eternity, in life with Jinyoung, in whatever uncertainty that she might need to face after this day. Looking at the way she smiles before she mentions her soon-to-be-husband’s name, you suddenly feel like crying as you think about how you’d look on your wedding day.

“Hey, hey.” Jisoo panics a little, her hairstylist glaring at you for making her move. “Why are you crying?”

“No. Sorry, I just–” You blink continuously in hope it will stop your tears, but your lips are trembling and Jisoo actually tells her hairstylist to stop for a bit because she needs to stand up. Jennie has just come into the room when Jisoo reaches to hug you. She sends her friend a concerned look, but the look in the older girl’s face obviously means she’s not sure what’s going on either.

“I’m so sorry.” You shake your head as you carefully wipe your tears. “I’m not sure why I’m crying.”

Jisoo shares a look with Jennie, then takes a deep breath before she cups your cheek and gets into her older sister mode.

Dating Jinyoung for almost a decade and knowing him for more means she’s also known you for as long. She’s watched you and Wonwoo throughout the years, and she was probably one of the happiest parties when it was made clear that you and Wonwoo are finally dating.

She remembered telling Jinyoung a long time ago, way before you and Wonwoo started dating, that she’s envious of what you had with his brother. The both of you made love seem very easy, like it’s just obvious that you have to take care of each other.

As some sort of older sister for both you and Wonwoo, she can tell for sure that you’re one of those lucky couples that are just meant for each other. Jisoo has never believed much in soulmates; even her relationship with Jinyoung was nothing sort of magical because they choose to stay with each other.

They love each other, but it’s not easy to stay together when they have different ways of thinking and sometimes different views on life in general. She never doubts that Jinyoung loves her, but there used to be times when she doubted if love alone was enough. Unlike you and Wonwoo that she just knew would end up together no matter what, Jinyoung and Jisoo had quite the hurdles to finally get where they’re at.

Perhaps that’s why it feels fulfilling now that they’re taking another step for their future.

“Want me to call for Wonwoo?” Jennie offers, rubbing your back in comfort.

“No, it’s fine.” You smile despite your sniffles. “I’m just–happy for you. And… yeah. It’s not important. It’s your big day, sorry.”

Jisoo presses her lips together before she carefully asks Jennie and her makeup artists if she can have some time alone with you. You look up in surprise, but Jennie simply nods and smiles before she says she’ll just be nearby just in case.

It’s silent for a moment after everyone leaves, and you look at Jisoo, all gorgeous in her wedding dress even if her makeup is unfinished. You don’t talk to her on a daily basis, but she feels like she’s always been in your life due to her long years with Jinyoung–who’s basically your brother.

She’s always been kind to you though. She takes care of you a lot and even though you’re not the closest to her and you’d hang out with her from time to time even without Jinyoung or Wonwoo around. You remember going to her the few times you did end up fighting with Wonwoo, or when you just felt like sulking to someone older because Jeonghan and Shua just wouldn’t get it.

She’s not your closest friend, nor is she the first person you’d seek when you have a problem; but she’s still like your sister regardless and you couldn’t be happier for her.

“You’re thinking about your wedding, aren’t you?”

You offer her a small smile, a little shy but not seeing any reason to deny it.

“Do you want it to be soon?”

“Not sure.” You say honestly. Do you? Will it make any difference? You’ve always had Wonwoo by your side even though it’s only been two years or so since you framed your relationship under romance. You know it’s him you’re going to marry someday, but you’ve never thought of it as a pressing matter. Some days you even think it might be okay to just stay the way you are; together. 

Is there any need to get married when you already know you’re it for each other?

But after seeing more and more of Jinyoung’s wedding preparations, you notice some kind of preferences you have regarding a lot of stuff. You find yourself thinking about what to do or what not to do for your own wedding. 

And now that it’s d-day and you get to see Jisoo in her wedding dress, readying herself to seal the vow of eternity, you suddenly get a wave of imaginary pictures of you at your own wedding. They’re overwhelming, they scare you a little, but, more importantly, they give you a rush of giddiness that you’ve never experienced in your life.

“What scares you?” She shoots right to the point, and you open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because you really don’t know what does. She seems to get this, so she changes her question to one far more fitting. “What makes you think you’re not ready?”

But you keep your silence. Because now that you think about it… nothing does.

Were you really not ready?

Or did you just think marrying him was just obvious?

“Nothing?” She smiles knowingly and squeezes your hands. “Maybe you’re more ready than you thought you were, then.”

[✾✾✾]

“What was that?” Wonwoo asks once you’ve settled beside him on the bed, fresh out of the shower. It’s almost 2AM now, Jinyoung’s wedding celebration ended just a few hours ago. But between being an immediate family and the after party for the youngsters, you and Wonwoo barely make it to the hotel room they’ve booked for you.

“What was what?” You know what he’s asking, but you’re still a little tipsy from all the drinks and you feel like playing dumb. You have all the time in the world, anyway.

You sneak your arms around his middle and lean against his chest, your ear right where his heart is at. The two of you really should be sleeping, if only because you’re dead tired and you’re sleepy; but none of you feel like doing so for some reason, so you’re just sitting there against the headboard of your bed, a blanket covering your bottom half as you cuddle with each other.

“You cried during the wedding.”

“Duh.” You bury yourself further into him. “It’s a wedding.”

He chuckles regardless, then drops a kiss on top of your head and rephrases his question. “You don’t usually cry at weddings, princess. Anything you wanna tell me?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. You look up and plant your chin on his chest to look up at him, the position is uncomfortable, but Wonwoo steals a kiss that you happily return. You spend a few moments just like that, sharing a lazy kiss that’s not going to lead anywhere.

If you hadn’t known Wonwoo since you were a kid, and if you hadn’t been practically living with him, you’d probably be thinking about how lucky you’d be if you got the chance to wake up next to him in the morning.

But you already do. You wake up to him everyday, and he’s not always the most handsome during then, sometimes he’s even borderline annoying, but you love him anyway and he’s still the most beautiful person in your world. 

You’re not taking his love for granted, but if there’s anything you’re sure of in this world, you’re sure about your love for him and his love for you.

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He whispers like it’s a secret, his lips barely away from yours.

You stare at him for a bit before you move to sit on his lap instead. If he’s surprised, Wonwoo doesn’t show it, but he happily lets you circle your arms around his neck while he puts his around your waist.

Time is a strange concept when you’re with him. You don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but you know that his eyes hold your galaxies and you’ll never get tired of drowning in them. Wonwoo doesn’t seem concerned though, which is yet another thing you love about him because he just seems to be able to translate your silence very well.

It’s then that you decide to break the serene moment.

“Hey.” 

“Hm?”

Your voice is small, barely even a whisper, but it's so clear to him like music that's only reserved for his ears and his ears only.

“Spend the rest of your life with me?”

Wonwoo blinks. Once, and then twice. And then he smiles and hugs you closer to kiss your forehead.

“I will even if you don’t ask me to.”

It’s 2 in the morning, you’re in your pajamas, and you don’t have any grand proposal up your sleeves but it’s okay because Wonwoo is always one step ahead than you are. And as he pulls away and gets off the bed to take something from his small luggage, you end up crying in the middle of the dusk when he slides the ring to your finger.

You can’t imagine a proposal better than this one; just you and him with no one to witness the magical moment that’s only reserved for you two, the city asleep and the moon high up in the sky.

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: hi. just want to remind you that your words mean a lot to writers and i wanna remind you also that we're doing this for free. when i say i can't believe i have 3k followers, i don't mean it in an insecure way, i mean it in a way that: i barely have people who interact with me, what do you mean there are 3 thousand blogs here??? i think not even 10% of these blogs ever talk to me. but, at this point, this felt like talking to a wall and it gets discouraging. so i'm just... going to write whenever i feel like writing, and i'm considering to get rid of my tag list too while i'm at it. anyhow, thank you to those who always leave feedbacks and drop by from time to time, and i'm thankful for all of you still for taking your time to read this and my other works and i'll see you whenever i post smth again :)

mwty taglist: @hoe4wonwoo @dnylwoo @yslshua @twogyuu @najaemin138 @blueixnie @boowanie @pwettytae @itsveronicaxxx @aphrodyteeth @leechanniee @jeoonghann @sdoulc@kyeomjjigae @ru-lin @listxn@yngreid @vynnz @lilactangerine @justasoftstan @02psh@lovelywoo@pusangmamon@yoontaedotin @soonchanshua @fanfic24 @nothingbutadeadesceane @nollixtrml @sweetheart-gs@rjsmochii@dowoonwoodealer

permanent taglist: @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu@kpopjackie@ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @just-here-to-read-01 @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq @fr0g-filez

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smother - part xv: condemnation

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: will your decision make or break everything you and joel have built together? 17.8k words (OOPS.) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! dubcon - stockholm syndrome, innocent reader, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg/daddy dom! joel, sub!reader, lil bit of fluff, heavy on the angst in the second half, smut - pussy worship, joel creams his jeans™, cum eating; slight degradation, reader wears a collar publicly, crybaby reader and i'm not sorry! if the darker tags aren't your thing please keep scrolling- i'm not responsible for the content you consume! a/n: wow, what a few months it has been. the endless support and love and patience i've gotten as i struggled hard to really write at all has meant the world to me. but i'm proud to finally present this to you all!

Home. The distinct feeling of it filling your body with warmth, letting you forget your worries for the moment. Not those four walls of the cabin you share with Joel, but right here, where you sink between his spread legs and kneel. 

It’s been days, far too long since you’ve been able to give yourself over to the heady, comforting feeling of it as traveling here to Jackson and the ensuing drama got in the way. You’d insisted when Joel had gently taken your hand in his rough one and led you to the next room. Please, daddy, I want to… you’d murmured, glancing at the old, faded rug spread beneath the couch and side tables in Tommy and Maria’s living room. And who was Joel to deny you such a simple pleasure as that?

Down you’d gone, looking up at him with reverence, tucking your legs underneath you before leaning your head on his thigh. Joel watches on in pleased wonder, his observing eyes never leaving your face, searching for every micro expression that tells him this is the right thing, that you’re happy.

You sigh into the leg of his pants, eyes fluttering shut as you get to inhale his familiar scent deeply now - earthy, musky, undeniably Joel. 

“That’s better, huh? In your special place f’me, aren’t you?” he asks you, the teasing condescension another familiar comfort you revel in.

“Yes,” you breathe out with a contented sigh. You’d be happy to stay right here for hours, never having to hear what Joel pulled you aside to talk about. You don’t want it, you don’t want anything else but this now. Nothing else could possibly matter.

His hand touching the side of your head exposed to him brings you back to reality - only slightly - as the soothing motions of his fingers across your scalp threaten to pull you away again. 

“Y’look so pretty like this,” Joel marvels softly, giving you another much needed moment. Warmth blooms in your chest at the rarity of soft praises like this coming from him. “You really are my girl, ain’t you?” The question is quiet, almost as if it’s only for him to hear, to try to believe. He was sure the two of you had been pulled apart, that everything that happened yesterday would lead to a steady demise of everything he’d worked to build.  Yet here you were, huddled between his thick thighs like it was the only shelter you could ever need.

“Mmm,” just the uttering of a single, blissed out sound, before Joel brushes your cheek with his knuckles, trying to get your attention.

“Can’t avoid what I’m gonna say forever, sugar. Look at daddy now and let me talk.”

You peer up to him with wide, curious eyes, filled with an anxiety he knows well by now. “What is it, daddy? Is it bad news?” you ask in a wavering voice. The pit in your stomach that’s been festering since he’s said you two had to talk grows as you wait for him to speak. 

Joel gives you a tiny, sympathetic tug of his lips upwards. “Don’t know how to say this… just gonna say it. But they - uh, Harry and Josephine - they want to see you.”

“T-They do? Even after…” you trail off, feeling self conscious. A handful of questions seem to pass through your mind at the same time, wondering how Joel even knows about this. Had he seen them? Had they fought again? How could so much have happened while you were asleep?

Joel nods solemnly, his lips in a thinned, straight line as he cocks his head, staring down at you. “Tommy spoke to ‘em. They were here.”

“Here?” you question frantically as your head picks up off his thigh, your hands reaching around to plant them on his waist and cling on to him. It seems like you can’t do anything but repeat his words back to him in question form. “They know I’m staying here?”

Joel’s brows aren’t able to contain his surprise at your demeanor. “Don’t know if Tommy told them. You don’t want ‘em to know that, hm?” 

You shake your head a little. “I… I don’t know -” you start, sighing. “It was hard seeing them… Made me feel too confused.”

“Mm,” Joel utters, still observing you with a critical eye. “You can say no, y’know.”

You continue to shake your head, wondering if that’s true. You’ve never felt you could say no to either party involved when it came to their wishes. You were still undeniably stuck in the middle of this web, even if patching things up with Joel last night made you feel slightly better. 

“What should I do, daddy?” you ask, your glassy eyes pleading with him.

He sighs. “Whatever you want to do.”

Your shoulders slump, lip pouting out slightly. It’s unlike Joel, isn’t it? To not give you any direction, any guidance, to give up control of the situation. 

“Please…” you whisper, lifting your eyes to his once more. “Why won’t you j-just tell me what to do? I don’t understand, you always do…” 

Joel’s brows knit together, studying the despondent look you’re giving him for a quiet moment. You’re so lost, so in need of his direction - he’d nearly forgotten that you’ve hardly made a decision for yourself in months, maybe even years before you met him. It seemed your entire life was planned, plotted, and dictated, and he’d done his fair share to contribute to that. He shouldn’t be surprised to see you looking adrift at sea, yet here he was, heart aching for the lost little girl he’d had such a hand in creating.

Joel thumbs at your cheek - it’s delicate and sweet, two things hardly used to describe the man you love. “You’d really listen if I told you that y’can’t see them?” he asks, and it’s genuine. As much as you’ve been so good for him, the perfect pet he’d always dreamed of - listening to his commands, keeping with his wishes day in and day out, he has a hard time believing it. Not with something this important. 

You swallow thickly, eyes glistening in his direction. “I think so…”

Joel clicks his tongue. “Oh, sweet girl…” he mutters, shaking his head slightly. “If it were up to me, you’d never see another person that threatens what we have. I’d say fuck it all, an’ take you away from all this shit upsetting you. But -” He cuts himself off to suck air in through gritted teeth, as if the words pain him. If he was honest with himself, he’d never let you see another person, period, if it meant you could be anything less than his. He’d do it gladly, shutting you away forever. Only his to see, hold, and fuck. 

“I get the feelin’ they’re persistent folk,” Joel says, finishing his thought. 

Your eyes grow wider, beginning to nod nearly involuntarily at his suggestion, just happy to have some direction. “Y-yes…” you breathe out in reply.

“You’re their girl, only thing they ever had close to a kid, ain’t you?”

You nod again. “They… they spent a lot of their time helping take care of me and my education. They were so dedicated, and they’re the only ones who even wanted me after… my parents…” you admit timidly, casting your gaze downward. 

Joel visibly holds back a scoff, his lips tight with frustration at the concept of them helping you, if that’s what they had wanted to call it. It was all ulterior motives cloaked underneath that one, vague word.

“Helped you, huh? Way I see it, you came to me green as the day you were born, nothin’ but nonsense from them in your head. You’ve seen how much you learned with daddy that they kept from you, yeah? That they don’t let you see the world the way I do?”

“I know,” you breathe out obediently, your hands tightening their hold around his middle as you snuggle closer. “It was different with them, like - like I could never be good enough. They always said I would be rewarded someday for everything but I never -“ You quickly cut off your spiral when Joel plants a hand on your forearm, stopping you. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I just keep having these memories coming up, and - and I want it to stop. I just want to remember my time with you.”

Joel rushes to comfort you with soothing strokes of his hands. “You can tell them that, baby. You can tell them anything you want to. Tell ‘em where you’d rather be.” You hear the hint of desperation he fails to hide from you. He’s worried.

“I still don’t want to hurt them, daddy,” you cry out, feeling tears stinging at your eyes before they start to brim at your lashes. You bury your face into his pant leg, sniffling. “They’re not bad people. I know you say they are, but… they were all I had… ”

His face falls further into a sympathetic frown on your behalf, but it’s strained behind all the other emotions tearing through him. The idea that you could even consider leaving with those two instead of your rightful place by his side is simply unfathomable to him. He only hums quietly, thinking for a beat, his hands working on autopilot to stroke your cheeks, brushing away the stray tears rolling down. He’s carefully watching your worked up body language curl even closer to him, seeking comfort, and it gives him the confidence he needs. 

“Well, Tommy seems to think they’re nice enough people,” Joel grits out, clearly not keen on the words coming out of his own mouth. “So if you want to see ‘em, we should see ‘em.”

You’re just as surprised as he is at how amenable he’s starting to seem to be to the whole situation, given how harsh he was with them last night.

“I think I do. I just… don’t want them to call me those things again though, if I say something they don’t like.” 

Whore. You can hear it reverberate through your mind all these hours later. Said with such venom, a word you’d never thought you would become in their eyes, due to the dutiful way they brought you up. Nothing like the way Joel has doled out those somehow praise laden insults when he’s taking his pleasure from you. That feels personal in the best way, the right way, and it’s confusing that you didn’t feel the same pride emanating when someone else had insinuated that you were in fact, exactly as they called you, if only for Joel alone.

“You don’t believe those words, though, do you?”

“Before I met you I would have thought the same thing if I saw me with you,” you admit with a sinking heart. “But I don’t want to think it’s wrong like they do, it’s just -” Your brow scrunches tightly as you chew on the inside of your lip. “It’s hard to upset them. They need me. They can’t have kids and th-they took me in and I owe them so much an-”

“Shh, shh…” Joel cuts you off with soothing sounds and a light touch to your cheeks. “You don’t owe them anything. You did your best f’them, but it’s time for you to get what you want.”

You let out a small whine, laying your cheek back down to Joel’s lap, wishing you could transport yourself to another time, another place much simpler than this. What did you want? You couldn’t think of anything past exactly what you had here - the warm comfort of Joel’s care when it’s just the two of you, alone without the world getting in your way. You realize quickly that your answer is right there, practically dangled in front of you in the way your mind gravitated here, to his familiarity and security.

You clamber up onto the couch, perching yourself next to him with your legs dangling across his lap, tucking yourself underneath his arm as it moves to make room for you. He smiles softly when your arm wraps around his waist, clinging to him.

The words sit on your lips, ready to be spoken. Your decision, the one you know Joel wants to hear, because despite his outward appearance you’ve sensed his fear since you two laid eyes on Harry and Josie. He’s typically so confident, but the fact that he can’t read your mind, doesn’t know if he could control you wanting to go back to your old life in the end, gnaws at him like nothing he’s ever experienced.

You struggle to make yourself say it, like the finality of that confession is too intimate, even for the relationship you share with Joel. You can’t help the nagging voice inside your head reminding you of the imbalance here, the lack of reciprocation each time you think or dare to utter the three special words you’ll never hear echoed back by him. 

I love you. I want you. 

How easily they perch themselves on the tip of your tongue when you’re around him, knowing the inevitable outcome being that Joel can’t say it back with words. He shows you in every way though, and as twisted and strange as they may be, you relish in each new way he doles out his care onto you.

“I just… want this,” you say quietly into his shoulder, feeling a lick of heat flash across your cheeks at the admission, but a weight lifts off your shoulders immediately after. “I want to go home.”

You know that Joel understands which home you mean.

“Yeah?” His voice picks up slightly with a fresh hopefulness as he peers down at you. “We’ll go home. Soon, baby.”

Your fist balls into the fabric of his shirt happily, letting a sigh of relief pass your lips into the crook of his shoulder. “Good,” you breathe out, relaxing into him. 

Tommy appears only moments later in the doorway with a sheepish look on his face as he interrupts you two so huddled up together on the couch. You stir as Tommy’s eyes linger uncomfortably, moving to sit up and untangle yourself from his brother, but Joel’s hold on you tightens, keeping you in place.

“Sorry,” Tommy stammers out, his eyes finding Joel’s. “Me and Maria, we were gonna head into town for some errands. Thought we’d give you two time to talk.”

“Already told her, Tommy. No need for tip-toein’ around it,” Joel shoots back, his fingers absentmindedly playing along the skin of your arms.

“Yeah? You doin’ okay there?” Tommy asks, looking to you. You give him a little nod, hoping that the strain of the situation isn’t too evident on your face - you don’t want either of them worrying about you. You like Tommy a lot, and there’s been enough trouble, enough heartache in this family because of you.

“An’ they seemed like they wanted to have a civil conversation ‘bout things?” Joel asks coolly. 

“Honestly, yes. Really, they mostly stay out of the way ‘round here, keep to themselves, that group. Hardly botherin’ anyone, an’ I was surprised to see ‘em this morning. They seemed real regretful, like they jus’ wanted to see how she’s doin’. They care a lot about you,” Tommy says, flicking his eyes to watch your face fall before you avert your eyes downwards. 

Guilt eats at your insides at the thought of Harry and Josephine stressed and worried, wondering how they could see you again when you’d all but moved on in the last few months. You had safety, a home, a warm bed every night and a man who cared for you in ways you’d never even dreamed of. While you’d been falling into the lap of this new luxury, maybe for them it had been a living nightmare, unsure of your wellbeing day in and day out. It was more than you’d ever expect from those two - wanting to see you so badly that they’d come to grovel at Tommy’s doorway. Josephine was not one to grovel in all the years you’d known her.

“We’re gonna do it. As long as… they want to keep it civil, like I said,” Joel tells him, speaking for the two of you. You find that you don’t mind it at all, letting him have those controlling reins back in his hands.

Tommy’s eyes light up slightly in surprise, and he leans his shoulder against the doorframe, smiling softly.

“Good. ‘Cause I already told them they could come by for dinner.” He shoots his brother a sly glance.

”Asshole.”

Joel had offered to take you for a walk around town to help ease your nerves but you’d refused, hunkering yourself even closer to him where you two stayed lounging on the couch. You had wanted to come all this way and see what was left of civilization, maybe even some of the best of it. So badly. Yet you shake your head adamantly before it’s burrowed back into Joel’s shoulder. 

You can’t take the stares, the heated gazes on the two of you today. The curious glances and judgmental thoughts you know follow about the way you look with Joel, his protective hands all over you and the dark leather strapped to your neck. It’s all too much given the news Joel dropped on you this morning and the impending, difficult dinner with Harry and Josephine. You aren’t sure you trust any of them to keep it peaceful like they’re agreeing to. 

“You were so eager to see what there was to see yesterday, now, weren’t you? Seein’ the bakery? Explorin’ the town?” Joel asks in a gruff whisper against your hair. The house is quiet, just you and Joel kindly left to your own devices by Tommy and Maria. It’s a relief, being able to close your eyes, hold tightly to Joel, and pretend you’re back home safe in the cabin together.

“I don’t want to anymore,” you mumble, sliding yourself down to rest your head in his lap, knees bent as you stare up at the ceiling. “I just… don’t feel good.” You hope the way you peer up at him forlornly softens him enough to not press the issue any further. 

“Hmm.” Joel gives you a curious look, reading through everything, reading through you as always. “Playin’ sick doesn’t work on me, y’know.” His sharp eyes do the rest of the talking, daring you to hide from him, knowing he will always find you.

“I just don’t want to go out, daddy. That’s it.” You turn your entire body to face away from him and cross your arms over your chest. You’re exhausted and feeling a wave of defiance crashing over you, two things that will speedily get you into trouble with Joel, yet you don’t find yourself caring. 

Maybe you want him to be angry, want to feel something punishing from him. Feel anything again apart from this numbness that’s spread over you the last few days. That sweet distraction, like he’d given you last night or the other morning in the woods. 

“You’re a bad liar. Tell me. Now.” The simple command of his voice pulls at you, too well trained to brush it off but that fire of opposition flickers inside of you again, begging for a punishment. 

You only squirm slightly, angling yourself even further from Joel’s view. His hand cups under your chin firmly in response, tilting your head back so that he can see you again. 

“Stop, daddy,” you groan, weakly fighting against his hold.

Joel arches a brow behind you and tightens his grip slightly, but it doesn’t hurt. His movements are so controlled, showing you that he knows he could hurt you and is choosing not to - small mercies. His other hand lands on your lower back, skimming over the fabric of your dress towards your ass. It’s intimidating, full of promises that make your breath hitch, realizing you might have him exactly where you want him. 

You want him to yank you over his lap, squirming until you’re forced to still under thwaps of his hands against your bare ass. Until you’re swollen and aching, skin raw and tingling the entire rest of the day. A reminder each time you sit and move that you deserved this, to remember how much you’re screwing everybody’s lives up. 

His hand lifts, and you know it’s hovering right above where you want it, making you steel yourself for the impact, your body tensing. It comes down in a soft smack, more of a loving pat than anything. You’ve jumped in preparation for the shock of it, still holding yourself rigid as you stare at him with a growing frown.

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, honey. That ain’t gonna work on me this time,” Joel snips, now rubbing your ass cheek in a soothing circle. “You gonna tell me why you want me to punish you for nothin’? That’s not how the rules work, is it?”

“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes.

“No, what?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. So what is it then?” 

“It isn’t for nothing…” you say quietly, trying to keep the wobble out of your voice.. “The punishment. I’ve done everything wrong, I’m ruining everyone’s lives. I just want to feel like… like I still matter to you, that I paid for all the trouble I’m causing. Why, daddy? Why do you want us to be so different and now everyone sees me like a problem to solve? Why didn’t you just tell me all those things about you, so it didn’t have to be like that? I just… don’t want to think about it, about anything, just for a minute. You can do that.”

You watch Joel’s face slowly falling as you speak, everything going soft for you. He gives a tiny, disbelieving shake of his head. “You really feel that way? After everything I’ve said and done, that you’re ruinin’ my life?”

You feel your skin heating under his intense gaze. The way he’s worded it makes you feel silly, shame burning through you wondering how you could ever think that you were ruining Joel’s life after he’d shared with you last night how much you’d saved him.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling your body sag. His fingers drum against where they’re sitting on your behind, somehow simultaneously patient and impatient as he awaits a full answer from you. “No, daddy, I don’t,” you finally say, sighing.

“Thas’ what I thought,” he quickly replies. “I know there’s been a lot happenin’ these last few days. And to be frank with you, sweetheart, I don’t give a damn what anyone else is thinkin’. If they’re upset by me or you or any of it, it don’t matter to me. This is all I care about. I told you I wished I had said more about my past here. I was a damn fool to think it wouldn’t catch up to us an’ hurt you. I-I’m sorry it had to be that way. I just… know I’m not always gonna be who you think of me as. The more you learn, the less you’re gonna see me the way you do now. I have a lot of shit I’ve done - bad things - an’ I’ll keep doin’ them, because that’s who I am now. That’s all I can do for us.”

You stare up at him in wonder, your lips parted with no words coming to you. You believe every word he says, and know he’s proved to you that he only cares about what you two have. No outside influence seems to rattle him, and it sparks a tiny flicker of inspiration inside of you, wishing to be more like him.

You reach up to touch his face, gently scraping your fingers over his wiry beard. “I’ll always like you, daddy, I promise. You can tell me any of it - I-I won’t see you as bad, I’ve already seen…” You trail off, looking at him with the shared understanding of what you’ve gone through together, all the sides of him you’ve seen and accepted. “I’ve seen you before. S-so please, you won’t keep things from me anymore? Or… you’ll try at least?” you ask sheepishly.

His crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he sighs. He studies your face, scanning over it with a pained expression. “I’ll try, sweetheart. I will.”

You sit up, bringing your lips to his cheek for a tender kiss. “Thank you, daddy.”

He kisses you back on the lips this time, cupping your cheek. Joel is so soft and pliant right now, exposed to you in a way you’ve hardly seen him before. You don’t know where his change of heart has come from, what moved him to smooth his edges for you, even if just for today. You want to keep this moment, the man he is right now, and save it, find a way to bottle it up and never have to wonder again.

“You’re being so nice today,” you muse with your nose still brushing against his, lips nearly touching, feeling emboldened by his new attitude. He nearly snorts and pulls back.

“I won’t be if you keep tellin’ me I’m not normally nice. You think I’m not nice to you, huh?”

You giggle, shaking your head when he wraps his arms around you, tightening them in a playful threat. “No, you’re very nice, daddy.”

“Damn right,” he huffs, satisfied. “Now, you really don’t want to go out today?”

You shake your head. “No. I don’t want to see anyone, really. Except you. I just need some time, I think. A-are you upset?”

“Upset? No, ‘course not. Means I get you all to myself.” Joel’s lips turn up into a devilish smirk as his hands start to skim over your body and you give him a shy laugh. “You just lay right back there an’ let me make you feel better.”

He guides your head back down to his lap and you take a deep breath, feeling your muscles relax instantly when his fingers start on your shoulders, rubbing them. 

“Turn on your side now, sugar,” he says softly. You easily obey, facing out towards the living room. 

His hands find your back, soothing circles and scratches sending goosebumps prickling along your skin. You hum contentedly, Joel’s touch already heating your skin towards something unbearable. You’re not sure if he means it to be a lead-in for something more intimate or not, but you feel the familiar pulse beginning between your legs, the warmth pooling there as your body responds. Joel’s touch, no matter the circumstances, always seems to do this to you. 

He bunches up your dress from the bottom, slipping his hand underneath to let his calloused palms touch your bare skin. You don’t mind how exposed you are now, the way your white, scalloped panties are out for him to see, because the second he makes contact with you again, you let out a sigh that sounds closer to a moan. You close your eyes and let the simple pleasure of his fingers scraping along your back again wash over you. 

“What were you like before?” you ask, hoping for the distraction you’ve been wishing for from him. A chance to hear more about life before the outbreak - a topic that fascinates you to no end but one you’ve rarely gotten a chance to hear much about. Too many people, Joel included, are closed books when it comes to that time. You can only imagine the pain, the profound sense of loss, that comes with missing what you can no longer have in such a devastating proportion. You’ve only ever asked for pieces of it, enough to build a picture of what you never had at all.

Joel looks at you curiously. “How d’you mean?”

“Like… before everything. What was your life like? What would you do normally, or with Tommy?”

He considers you for a quiet moment. “Well half my time I spent getting Tommy outta trouble,” he says wistfully. “He wasn’t always this responsible, y’know. But we had fun. Goin’ out to bars and the like, but really I was too busy to have much fun.”

His answer piques enough interest for you to open your eyes, angling your head towards him. “Why? Was it work? I know everything I’ve ever heard is that most people worked a lot,” you say practically. “Having a job sounds kind of fun, though. All the things people got to do.”

Joel snorts out a laugh at your dreamy tone. So naive, so far away from the truth, as usual. “I was no exception to all them people, I guess. Worked myself too much, shouldn’t have spent so much time…” Joel trails off into his thoughts, far away for a moment. “An’ no, it was not fun. We all did it to earn a livin’, it was nothin’ like how we spend our time together.”

“I-it was building stuff, right? Your job?” 

“That’s right,” he replies, nodding. “Contracting. We planned out buildings - houses, businesses an’ such - got them built.”

Contradictory to Joel’s tone, you think it sounds utterly fascinating. Any job you’ve ever learned about sounds like the most interesting thing in the world to you. The idea of a bustling lifestyle - working alongside others at offices, restaurants, and shops in a crowded city or town - has always had you secretly mourn what your life could have been. 

“Did you like it?” you ask him.

“Sometimes.” He chuckles, and you watch on with interest as his brows pull inward, lost in thoguht. “Means to an end, most days, to afford what I needed to.”

“Like… the fun stuff?”

”Mostly bills,” he replies with a flat chuckle, “But some fun stuff, I s’pose, yeah.”  

This conversation has him pulling away, and you can feel Joel sinking into his past - a time and place so far away from you. His eyes drift off into the distance, his fingers going stagnant from the absentminded way he’d been trailing lower and lower on your back, dangerously close to something more.

You used to like the cloud of mystery surrounding Joel, making him all the more alluring to you. This enigma of a man who had chosen you as his obsession, his everything. As he looks back into his past, a wistful tightness to his lips, you know you can’t reach him there, see into the parts of his life that made him who he is today - the man who wants nothing more than to have someone to give all his protection and care to. Instead of the intrigue it usually makes you feel, you only find sadness.

Your lips purse slightly as you blink up at him. “Daddy, what would we do back then? Like if you weren’t at work?”

Joel’s eyes snap down to you, sparkling with a sudden amusement that slips away into suspicion. “What’s with all these questions all of a sudden?” he asks, his hands finding their movement again, gentle brushes of his fingers now leading to your ass.

You shrug and curl your knees upwards, making yourself more comfortable. “D-dunno, I’m just curious what things were like. I’ve never heard all that much. And I want to picture you, the way you were before… well, me, or before any of this,” you say, gesturing your arms around as if to encompass the entire world and the way it’s fallen apart. A world you never got the luxury or displeasure of knowing in any sense, apocalypse or beyond.

He stares at you curiously, his dark eyes boring into you for a long, quiet moment. “There ain’t much to tell, baby,” he tells you, sounding exasperated. “I woke up, I worked, an’ ate a few meals if I was lucky enough to not be too busy with the bullshit at work. Crashed in front of the TV most nights.” He finishes his words with an apathetic shrug.

You bite at the inside of your cheek. ”So we’d do that, maybe? Watch TV together?”

Joel smiles softly, giving you a nod. “Sure, we’d do that. Whatever you’d want to do, baby. Come home to you waitin’ for me an’ it’d make my whole day worth the hassle.”

You return the grin, already trying to imagine life with him in a different home and an entirely different world bustling outside the windows. You wonder what kind of place Joel lived in, what his town was like, his neighbors. Did he have a big house? Smaller like the cabin? Was it on a tree-lined street similar to the one you grew up in, or did he live somewhere rural? All questions you bite back, knowing the rapid fire succession in which you’d have to ask would only serve to push him further away. You’d have to take little bits at a time as you have been, slowly - achingly so - painting this picture of who Joel is.

“What’s that look for?” Joel asks, seeing your faraway expression.

“Just picturing it. Us. Somewhere different, like an old house of yours or something. I feel like… I can see it. Even smell it.” You breathe in deeply, imagining Joel’s scent all over a modest house, neatly kept but well lived in, much like the cabin is now.

Joel gives you a chuckle. “Yeah? I’ll tell you it wasn’t much to brag about, that old house. It was just… a house.”

“I’ll bet it was nice, daddy. I wish I could see it. Tell me more, please,” you say, flashing your pitiful eyes up to him again, hoping to garner some sympathy. “Would you take me out places? Did you… go on dates?”

“Dates?” he laughs at your brazenness, shaking his head playfully. “You’re askin’ so many damn questions, baby.”

“You promised you’d tell me more,” you reply, watching him quickly fold, mildly irritated at the echoing back of his own words coming back to bite him so quickly.

“Okay, okay.” He scrubs a hand down his face before putting it back to you, this time on your thigh. “I didn’t date much. No time for it, really. But you want to know what we’d do on a date, that what you’re really asking?”

You give a simple, shy nod for your answer as you flutter your lashes at him, loving that he always finds a way through your timid, roundabout questions.

“Well, there’s goin’ to the movies. Or maybe a nice restaurant. Yeah, that’s where I’d take you.” He speaks methodically, seeming to be painting the picture in his mind as he goes. “You’d get all dolled up in one of these dresses that daddy likes so much on you. An’ I’d take you somewhere with real good food, nothin’ like my cooking. People would stare at ya, how pretty you look, but they’d know -” He leans down, close enough to brush his lips against your forehead as his hand slides lower, tucking it between your legs. A flash of heat hits your cheeks knowing he’ll find you wet, proof of how easy it is for him to manipulate your body.

“You’re with me. You belong to me.”

Your heart flutters at the image slowly being sketched in your mind as his hand works its way further between your thighs. Things you’d only seen in the form of an old, broken down restaurant that was in the town where your community had been settled. So much of it was beyond any use, but you would spend hours looking around in there - touching the shabby, tattered checkered tablecloths and imagining it full of people. Old, faded menus covered in mold and dust that you’d pored over, wondering how the dishes tasted. 

“Kind of like now,” you say, arching your back the slightest bit as your thighs part for him.

He grins darkly. “Just like now.”

“T-then what?” You flutter your lashes, inhaling sharply as a finger brushes over your clothed clit, teasing you.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, watching your eyes slowly start to glaze over. “Then… I think we’d be doin’ exactly this.” His fingers slide under the waistband of your panties as his words fade out, and you gasp at the touch. Your hips twitch into it, silently begging him for more when he easily slides two fingers into your dripping entrance. You snap your eyes to his, desperately seeking connection with him.

“This i-is part of the date?” you ask him, breathless, ready to hang on his every word.

“I’d be half tempted to do this under the table right in front of all those damn people,” he says, unhurriedly pumping his fingers in and out of you. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting back a moan, and roll onto your back, your legs falling apart so easily for him. “Wouldn’t have a choice, back then I’d never have believed such a pretty somethin’ would’ve been willin’ to go on a date with me.”

Joel’s fingers pull out, and the missing intensity and warmth leave a void that makes you cry out for him. His digits move to his lips and he sucks them clean, unable to tear his eyes from yours until they roll back slightly at the taste of you.

His grin turns a little more twisted, starting down at you intently, popping his fingers out of his mouth. “Would’ve had to taste somethin’ so sweet, ‘fore I missed my chance…” 

“I’d be yours,” you gasp out, bucking your hips up into nothing. Joel takes pity on you, cupping your cunt with his whole hand, the warmth only a second of welcome respite before you crave more. 

“Yeah? Think you’d have had eyes for an old man like me back in those days?” he asks, low and sultry as he strokes his fingers up your slit. You nod hastily, showing your devotion as your heavy lidded eyes look at him with sincerity. 

“Come on, then.” Joel stands off the couch, reaching out a hand to you. You feel the sudden loss of his comforting warmth, the pleasure he was steadily starting to build between your legs, but you don’t question it. You take his hand, letting him help you off the couch. He spins you into him, a hand on your waist pulling you nearly flush with his body. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, brushes of his clothes against yours as his hand snakes lower and his lips dip towards your ear. “Need to take my teasin’ little date upstairs w’me, don’t I? Show her how I treat sweet girls like her.”

“Y-yes, please,” you practically whisper, feeling your skin growing hot at his proximity and debauched little comments.

“Oh, she’s so polite too,” he says, condescension lacing his tone, a sneer on his face as he brushes his cheek against yours, pulling away. “Ain’t nothin’ about what we’re gonna do that’s so polite, sweetheart.”

Your body buzzes, butterflies flitting through your stomach as he pulls you by the hand towards the stairs. You follow silently, the only sounds are the creak of the stairs beneath your feet and your heart bursting as it races in your ears. You’ve experienced need before - Joel has shown you over and over just how badly you could need someone else’s body intertwined with yours, but this felt different. His sweetness, his willingness to play pretend for your sake, to comfort you when he knows you need it, touches you deeply. He may be masking it with dirty words and a promise to do something depraved once you get upstairs, but he cares. 

“Strip,” he commands you as soon as you two enter the bedroom. Suddenly, you’re the shy girl of months ago, standing with your mouth slightly open, unsure of how to make your limbs move. “Am I askin’ twice?” he says after a quiet beat. You shakily bring your arms to the bottom of your dress, pulling it upwards. His eyes follow the path of the hem, watching your body come into view, your tits spilling out immediately with no bra to hold them back.

“I hit the jackpot with this one, didn’t I? So pretty and obedient,” he says, patronizing you again. You feel a rush of wetness between your legs at his tone and the hunger filling his eyes. You fight every urge to bashfully cover yourself, falling right into this pretend universe he’s created where the two of you only met this evening on your first date.

“Leave those on,” he says gruffly, looking at your underwear, and you know without a doubt that he can see the way you weep for him, evident in an opaque little spot that’s only spreading on your panties. “On the bed,” he commands you next, and you clamber onto the mattress, sitting with your knees tucked underneath you, waiting with baited breath as he approaches.

“Back now, let me show you what daddy would have done to you after our date,” he says, gently guiding you to lay on the mattress by the shoulders.

Joel rummages through his backpack until he pulls out your leash, standing next to you on the bed, looking down with glazed eyes roaming over your body, studying you with a heady air that makes you shudder. He gathers your wrists in his hand and brings them above your head to the headboard, using the leash to bind them to the iron bars.

You struggle against them, showing Joel they’re tight enough. His smirk as he descends onto the bed, moving between your legs, emmenates pride and a softer form of him that you rarely get to see. It makes your heart swell and then race - how lucky you feel to see his walls coming down, even if just a little bit. 

“This is what I’d do to ya. After I held myself back in that restaurant from your pretty eyes lookin’ at me all innocent-like, not even knowin’ just how bad I want you. How much I’ve been thinkin’ about a pretty young thing like you, knowin’ I shouldn’t.” 

His hands press on your thighs, pushing them open, knees to the bed. You see your chest rising and falling more quickly in your periphery as you suck in air, focused on Joel’s hands pulling your panties down your legs. Anticipation buzzes inside of you as his hot breath hits your skin when he leans in to take a long, deep breath. 

“Fuck…” Joel mutters. “This life, another one, I’d do exactly this t’you.” His lips smack against your skin, hungry and wet until his mouth finds a home on your inner thighs, sucking and biting down. You yelp as you sit on that thin border between pain and pleasure while he marks you higher and higher until he finds your warm center. The bruises and bite marks he’ll have left, ones you’ll study in the coming weeks as they slowly change, will only make him more crazy for you each time he sees them, too. He’s slowly grazing now, only gentle, teasing kisses finding their way to where you’re aching for him to fully devour you. 

“Take you home after our little date, you’d be none the wiser, wouldn’t you? Think it’s all sweet of me to invite you in… my sweet, innocent girl. I’d tie you up, jus’ like this. Never let you leave my sight ever again, keep you safe right there in my bed,” he murmurs into your skin, possessed by the sight of you dripping for him, desperately straining against your binds to get closer to him.

“Daddy…” you whimper, one of your legs wrapping around him, needing to feel him closer. “You know… you know I’d do anything you want.”

Joel groans when his tongue strokes through your folds and your hips arch into it. Your wanton sighs and breathlessness after the slightest teasing should embarrass you, but with Joel, it never does. The look in his eye only grows more ravenous, more needy to see you fall apart just for him. You see his hips rut into the mattress at the taste of you, and it makes your eyes go a little wider, seeing him so wretchedly, unashamedly aching for you too.

“Yeah, that’s right, ain’t it? You’re a good girl f’me. Such a good girl…” he coos. The next moment, he loses control completely, burying himself between your legs, letting his mouth and tongue on your cunt do the talking for him - lapping fervently as you feel yourself get more wet for him, sucking gently on your clit, slowly working a finger inside of you. You both groan quietly at how easily it slides in, how open and inviting and desperate you are.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. It’s all f’me, it’s mine. This -” He pulls back, giving a swift slap to your cunt that makes you jump and yelp. “Is mine.”

You nod heartily in agreement, anything to get him back to the blissful way he was using his tongue on you, and when he does you let out a strained noise that somewhat resembles daddy. Heat flickers low in your belly, building quickly as he pushes his fingers deep inside of you, curling them upwards. Your hips buck, but he presses his forearm across your lower belly, anchoring you to the bed.

His attention on you slows to a painstaking pace - it’s soft yet intense, feather light flicks of his tongue while his fingers push in a gentle, toe-curling pressure inside of you. You wriggle underneath his strong hold, silently begging for more with your body.

“Mm-mm,” Joel coos into your skin, lapping a long stripe up your slit. “You’re gonna take what I’m givin’. She’s so perfect, baby, I need to enjoy her. Christ, so perfect f’me… Nothin’ could ever be so perfect.” 

The way Joel is taking his time, the subtle vibrations of his words and ensuing little groans tickling at your skin, his languid licks and slurps and sucks, sends you climbing higher and higher than you’d thought possible with the lack of his usual intensity and roughness.

“Oh- oh my god, daddy…” you cry out, the coil inside you tightening, your limbs starting to tingle with pleasure. You feel that familiar rush of panic alongside it, waiting for Joel’s command, his permission to feel it in full and give yourself over to everything he’s so benevolently offering you.

“She gonna come, baby? She gonna show daddy how much she needs him?” he growls into your cunt, and you nod wildly, feeling your neck slick with sweat on the pillow behind you, hands desperately pulling against the restraints. You watch through glassy eyes at his movements along the bed, his hips needily getting any kind of friction.

“Y-yes, please, please please daddy, please.” You pant the words, writhing beneath him as he picks up the pace, it’s own special form of torture as you try to hold yourself back. When he suddenly stops you cry out angrily, grunting as you try to pull your body closer, held back as the bars of the headboard creak against your strength.

“Look at her…” he says melodically, ignoring your frustration. His finger prods at your entrance, sliding up through your slickness and then back down again. “She needs daddy so bad, don’t she?” You can hear the lewd, obscene squelch as he pushes his finger back in as the answer he was looking for. He watches in a mixture of awe and smug satisfaction to see himself disappear inside of you over and over, working you up again.

“That’s a good girl, waitin’ so patiently,” Joel says, his eyes transfixed on your aching pussy as it greedily takes the second and then third finger he adds.

“Please…” you whimper out weakly as his head dips towards you again, wrapping his lips around your swollen, needy clit and sucking. Your eyes squeeze shut, your mind empty of everything but this - this pleasure, this pain of sitting on the precipice of something so close to heaven.

“Come, baby. Come.” The words tumble from his lips as you teeter off the edge into the abyss of pleasure he’s created for you - specially for you - knowing what makes your body tick, its needs and desires. The teasing only made everything crash into you harder, your hips held down with a rivaling force by Joel as he fucks you harder with his fingers, sucking hard on your clit with a flutter of his tongue while you writhe against him. You scream out your moans, unashamed and liberated as your legs shake and you’re blinded completely for those few blissful moments.

You sag, but Joel keeps going, sending your hips twitching when he laps and kisses along your lips, poking a tongue into your entrance and alternating with his fingers. Even when you tiredly call out to him, he doesn’t listen, intent on his mission to get every drop, every piece of you that he can. 

Possessed. Obsessed. Relentless. Everything you expect your Joel to be.

You’re trembling with low, weary moans passing your lips as you thrash your head side to side. “T-too much…” you murmur, yet your hips betray your words by twitching into Joel’s face, responding to his touch. 

“Again,” he demands, muffled as he barely gets the word out before he starts to eat you with an all consuming fire, grunting amongst the wet, vulgar sounds of you soaking his beard, dripping down onto the sheets. 

It nearly knocks you breathless, the way that your second high tears through you so unexpectedly. Your body tenses, a silent moan caught in your throat as your mouth hangs wide open, hips pressed tightly to Joel’s mouth.

He only gives you relief when you sag into the bed, body hanging heavily from the restraints. Joel pulls back, sitting on his knees. He takes in your face, glowing with a sheen of sweat, your limp form undone by him, and your fluttering eyes that struggle to stay open. Dipping down, he kisses your thighs once more, making you shiver as the heat finally leaves your body. He moves to untie the leash from around your wrists, and pulls you into his hold as soon as your arms drop down.

“W-what about you, daddy?” you ask, blinking up at him. Even with Joel’s help, you don’t know everything about sex, but one thing you do know for certain is that he always finishes too.

Joel grins softly at your innocent care for him, and his head shakes. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. This was all about you, sweetheart.”

His unexpected selflessness stuns you, and you wrinkle your brow. “Really? But are you -” 

He presses a finger to your lips, cutting you off. “I’m alright,” he says, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lap, pressing it hard to his crotch. You’d expected a bulge or for Joel to be as needy as you’d been, but all you find is the fabric of his pants, and it’s wet. Your eyes widen as you gasp softly, staring back into his as he smiles devilishly at you.

“You…?” You can barely ask, glancing down at the dark stain, your face hot with embarrassment for having to ask, for wondering how it was even possible.

“Takes a special girl,” he tells you, making you press your lips together to suppress the beaming smile that wants to take over at the thought. Somehow Joel has this ability to oscillate between something so sweet and doting and the compelling, dominant force he’d been only minutes ago. “Made daddy feel so good he couldn’t help himself.”

“Wow…” you say, barely audible. “So you… you…?” Your unwilling stammer makes your cheeks blaze again, wishing you sounded more confident.

He gives you a smug nod while he thumbs your chin, seemingly unbothered by your shyness. “Made a mess of me, blossom. Maybe I should have you help clean daddy up.”

You lick your lips, giving him a curious look before glancing to the doorway and the bathroom beyond.

“Not like that, baby,” he tells you, grabbing one of your wrists, placing it on the waistband of his pants. “Help daddy take it out now,” he rasps, giving your hand a squeeze. 

You give him a long stare, blinking as you try to work out what he’s getting at. At the warning raise of his brows, you start on the button of his jeans, glancing tentatively up to his burning gaze. Even after all this time, you still feel like you’re fumbling, so unsure of yourself when Joel asks you to take the lead, even if just for a moment. The steady pressure of his hand on yours reminds you that he’s here every step of the way, that he’s still the one here to guide you, teach you.

The sound of his zipper coming down and denim rustling cuts through the tension in the room, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, warm and heavy and sticky in your palm. Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said you’d made a mess of him. He smiles, sucking air through his teeth when you give his softening cock a gentle squeeze.

“That’s it, baby. You handle daddy’s cock so well now, don’t you?”

You watch as it comes into view out of his jeans, covered and nearly dripping with his release. Your chest heaves, feeling yourself turned on all over again by the sight. It’s strangely beautiful, knowing you had a hand in undoing Joel even a fraction of the amount that he does to you.

He releases your hand and uses his own fingers to swipe at his shaft, gathering up his cum and bringing it to your lips. They’re already halfway parted, and his fingers slip past easily. They sit in your mouth and the taste of him invades your senses, sticky and tangy on your tongue.

“Gonna clean up the mess you made, or will I have to ask you, honey?” Joel says softly, and you finally close your lips around his fingers, sucking softly. He sighs, watching the bits of his cum that had smeared on your lips on the way in only spread as he pulls his fingers out. He goes back again, repeating the motion, but with a lack of urgency that makes the entire situation so sensual and intimate your skin starts to prickle with desire again.

You find yourself scooting closer, your hips with a mind of their own as you approach his lap. He  puts a hand on the small of your back, urging you closer, until you’re straddling his knee. How is it that Joel always seems to know exactly what you need? The contact of your bare pussy on his denim makes you moan quietly as he pushes his fingers into your mouth again and you’re flooded with a fresh taste of him. 

“That’s daddy’s good girl,” he praises you, eyes watching you with a renewed reverence as you lick his spend off your lips in between another pass of his fingers, your hips slowly starting to grind against him. “Take what you need, honey.”

You relish in it a little more each time he brings his fingers to your mouth, tiny little whimpers that sound so desperate to your ears start to slip out, but you don’t care. You’re basking in his attention - his scent and his taste and everything Joel invading your space over and over again as you grind against him harder. 

“Jesus… that’s it, that’s it,” Joel urges you on, looking down to see the newly soaked spot on his pants as you shamelessly ride him, panting with desperation. 

“M-more… please…” you beg him, and Joel shoves his fingers deeper this time, making you moan around them. You’re addicted, something strange and foreign taking a hold of you, like you could stay like this the entire day. Just letting him sustain you on nothing but his spend over and over and over again. You feel feral, your hips twitching and shaking as you lap at his fingers before they’ve even touched your lips on the next turn.

“Such a nasty fuckin’ thing you are. Fuck, baby. That’s it, take everythin’ you need. Come another time for daddy.” Joel whispers praise after praise, seeing you lose sense of the world around you. You finally break, shuddering on top of his leg and moaning around his fingers, letting him smear his cum along your lips while you whimper out pathetic little daddy’s for him.

A little pang of disappointment moves through you as you come down hard and he takes his thumb, sliding it across your lips to give you one final taste. You suck harder, relentlessly trying to get every last drop as your legs tremble.

“Thank you,” you tell him tiredly as his thumb pops out of your mouth. You let your head droop until it lands on his chest, feeling the steady motion of his breathing. “For distracting me like I needed.”

He shifts his weight, relaxing back onto the bed, settling into it with you. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he says cooly, his smile giving him away. “I was jus’ enjoyin’ my date with you.”

You’re a ball of nervous energy, thumbs twiddling in front of you as you step into the kitchen after you got cleaned up, Joel having washed you off slowly and carefully, peppering kisses along your shoulders and neck. Reality came crashing back in hard, realizing it was only hours until you’d have to face what you’d been trying to run from earlier with Joel.

Maria is back home, busy at work at the island with Tommy sidled up next to her, his lips pressing close to her ear, whispering something with a smile. Maria laughs, playfully bumping him away using her hip, sending Tommy to give her shoulder a teasing nudge in return. You feel like an intruder, watching in on an intimate moment while neither of them notice your presence.

They look so happy, so normal, and you silently pray that maybe that’s what you might look like, too. That people could look at you and Joel - maybe while you stand pressed between him and the stove while he cooks back home, or curled up on the couch with your head laid across his lap - and think the same thing about the two of you. That the first thing they’d notice wouldn’t be your collar or either of your ages, but simply that you look happy together.

”Um…” you blurt out, clearing your throat as a tiny tickle pops up. Your hands bunch up on the fabric of the same pink dress Maria had given you yesterday before letting it fall. “Can I help?”

They both greet you with warm smiles and Maria nods. “C’mon,” she offers you, waving you into the kitchen and towards the sliding glass door at the back. You step out with her into the sun, taking in the backyard from where you two stand on a small deck. It’s an expanse of overgrown grass, planter boxes full of life, and a shed on the far side that sits against a fence dividing their house from the one behind them. In some ways, Jackson reminds you of where you grew up - the homes bordering one another, green yards and family units pretending like the apocalypse wasn’t able to land on their doorstep at any moment.

You clear your drifting mind, blinking hard, then catch up with Maria who is watching you carefully as you pull yourself out of your fog. She doesn’t say anything about your lack of focus, though. She just waits until you’ve joined her over at the garden and holds out a ripe cherry tomato for you to look at. You’re grateful for it.

“Let’s pick some of these for tonight. We could roast them with the zucchini. Might taste like home, yeah?” Maria says, calling back to your conversation last night about your garden at the cabin.

You gently pinch the perfectly red and shiny little tomato between your fingers, inspecting it with a soft smile. “Thank you,” you say, dousing it with more significance by stopping to look Maria in the eyes. “For letting me stay. Everything. I know… It’s got to be hard. I don’t want you all fighting over me.” The guilt of what you’ve unknowingly stirred up has been eating at you, and you hope that Maria understands you’d never intended for any of this. 

Maria gives you a little shake of her head, moving to pluck one of the tomatoes off and put it in a ceramic bowl she’d brought with her. “Told you that you’re welcome here, and I meant that. Joel is…” She pauses, licking her lips and pressing them together. “It’s no secret he’s not my favorite brother in law I’ve ever had,” she says, letting out a small laugh. “But he’s my family now. So if you’re… with him…” Maria strains out the words with a small grimace, quickly composing herself. “Then you’re family, too.”

You feel a sting behind your eyes at her words - a family. God, it hurts to hear the word, to feel it rattle you to your bones so deeply. 

Hadn’t you had a family? Twice?

It never felt like this before, though. There was always some semblance of strings attached to the care doled out onto you. Maria made it sound so easy, so simple to declare someone your family. Harry and Josephine, they’d fed and cared for you, taught you to navigate the complicated landscape that was being a virtuous woman. But here in the garden with Maria, the smell of ripe vegetables right under your nose as the breeze blows through, you feel her words ring truer than anything those two have done for you. It makes you feel immediately ungrateful, a wave of disappointment rolling through your stomach and making you feel sick. 

Keeping your eyes down as your fingers pluck a tomato off the vine, you nod solemnly. “Thank you,” you say again, unsure of how else to express the entirety of what you feel right now. She gives you a solemn nod of understanding in return.

“Nervous for tonight?” Maria asks you on your way back into the house after you’d picked a bowl full of tomatoes together in a comfortable silence. She seemed to be letting you talk when you felt comfortable, but your head has been too much of a swirling mess to strike up much conversation.

“I am a little…” you admit timidly. “But I’m trying to be strong.” For Joel, you think to yourself, omitting the words for Maria’s sake. 

“Don’t be,” she says casually. “You don’t have to be strong for anyone, you know. You’ve been through a lot. It can just be… dinner.” You snap your eyes to her face as she opens the back door for you two, but she’s not looking back. Her words had been said like it was the easiest thing in the world to follow her advice, but you know it comes from somewhere deeper. Maria has a tough exterior - she’s kind but seems to be a little brash when it comes to protecting what’s hers, what she believes in. It makes her more like Joel than you think she realizes. 

“Where’s -” you start, flicking your eyes around nervously, sensing the house’s suddenly eerie silence as you close the sliding glass door behind you.

“I think Tommy dragged Joel out to see about getting some chicken for tonight. We forgot to get it earlier,” she replies quickly, and you feel relief flow through you, dampening an anxiety you’d nearly not even registered. The same feeling that comes up any time you aren’t with Joel now. “We share things like that around here. The community system and everything.”

“My old community was like that too. We shared a lot of things, helped each other out,” you say with an involuntary softness towards your old life that surprises you.

Maria stares at you thoughtfully for a moment, her head tilted as she studies you leaning against the counter. “Can I ask you something?” she asks, moving to the sink to start rinsing the tomatoes. “You can slice those up,” she throws over her shoulder, nodding towards a large bunch of zucchini on the counter. 

You tentatively take the knife already laid out, swallowing at her tone. “S-sure…”

“Do you miss it? Your old home?”

“In some ways, yes,” you admit thoughtfully. “Just the sense of… being around other people. But mostly not, now that I’ve found something… else.” You keep your words vague, feeling a strange, anxious pulling in your core at sharing too many details of your private life with Joel with someone you know stands on shaky ground with him.

She seems to read your mind, wanting to pry further. “Even now? I know Tommy told you about Joel’s past - Scarlett and his uh, history with other women. How are you feeling? About all of it?”

You wrinkle your brow slightly, concentrating downwards. For a beat, the only sound is the knife hitting the cutting board as you slice through the zucchini, splitting it in half and beginning to cut little half moons into it.

“I guess it made me sad at first and I wish he would have told me, would tell me more. But I know it has nothing to do with me, not really. It was a long time ago… and maybe it’s stupid to be jealous that she… she was with him. People are telling me that Joel is the possessive one, but I think I am a little bit, too…” You breathe out a tiny laugh, smiling softly to yourself. “I know I’m not just a replacement, though. I-I’m special,” you assert, feeling pride welling up in your chest, maybe the first time you’d ever truly believed those words about yourself. Thanks to Joel, to his constant doting and affection that it could even be possible to see yourself in such a light. “H-he makes me feel like… I’m more than all of the other stuff. I just wish I had been able to be there sooner for him.”

“How’s that?” Maria asks, even toned as her brow moves upwards.

“We’re good for each other,” you say quietly, suddenly feeling self conscious spilling so much to a virtual stranger. “I wish we’d met sooner so I could have helped him.”

You look over your shoulder to see Maria at the opposite counter, nodding pensively. “I hope you’re right - that you’re good for him,” she replies solemnly. “You know there’s a lot of history there, a lot of hurt. I want to believe… that this could be good, but you didn’t see the worst of it.”

“I know,” you reply, sighing. Maria comes up behind you as you stare down at the cutting board, eyes glazing over as you find yourself lost in thought once again. She puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “I just want all of this to be over.”

“All you need to do is know what you want, the life you want to live, yeah? You have options now, you’re not stuck somewhere like… before.” Her words are vague but you know that’s on purpose, that she sees the life you’d lived with Joel as equally lacking in freedom to where you spent your entire upbringing.

“Why are you being so nice to me after I caused so many problems for you? Aren’t you upset that I like being with Joel?” The words spill out of you, just one of the many fears you’ve been holding onto so tightly coming the slightest bit unwound.

She blinks a few times, brows furrowed as she studies your face when you dare to lift your eyes to hers. “I am upset about seeing what you’re going through. But what I don’t think you get is that none of this is your fault.”

Her words catch you so off guard that you freeze, knife gripped in your hand and hovering over the last bits of zucchini. Maria seemed to have a gift for reading people, or maybe you were easier to see through than you’d thought. You’d been carrying this situation around like the entire weight of it was on your shoulders, like you had to please everybody around you in what you chose to do with it. To hear her verbalize it makes it too real, too much outside the confines of just you and Joel. 

“How do I make it hurt less? Telling them…”

She sighs softly. “That you want to stay with Joel?” She’s said your decision more clearly than you’ve been able to out loud, too struck by guilt to admit it. You only nod, putting your eyes down.

“Do you think you’d be able to see them again, if that’s what you tell them?”

Your head shakes. “I don’t, no. They wouldn’t… want to. Their lives are too different, they already see me like I’m broken now, even more than before.” You fight the emotion from your voice, but know you sound as hurt as you feel. Years of pain from them bubbling up, all the things you’d never thought to question because it just was. Even with all of that, the debt you owe them for raising you feels like a punch to the gut when you consider telling them you’re staying with a man you’ve only met months ago.

The crease between Maria’s brows deepens, her usual no-nonsense expression softening for you. She sees all of it - your past, your pain, your heart too swollen with love to know what to do with all of it - and leans over and wraps you into her arms, squeezing you. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s going to be okay, though. Promise.”

You frown at her when she pulls back. “How do you know?” you ask.

A brief moment of silence follows where you see her thinking, like moments of her life are flashing by her right until this very moment with you - a strange, unwelcome girl that landed in her life.

“I just do.”

When the knock inevitably comes to the front door, you freeze, your nerves frayed and on edge from worrying over this dinner the entire day. You’re still not sure that you’ve even processed Harry and Josephine being here of all places. How could fate have intervened so cruelly to put you in this situation, knowing that there isn’t a right solution, a decision that hurts nobody involved?

Harry and Josephine wouldn’t have it, you know they wouldn’t. Their attachment to you was… firm, much like Joel’s. You’re sure they could at least agree on that. Although you could never quite understand why they felt that way. 

After being the less than perfect child you know they’d hoped for, swallowed by your grief those first few years, you’d wondered why they continued to keep you around. Then came your lack of care towards the rules and commands the community doled out on everyone, which should have put them off of you. For some reason, you’d always found those rules to blame for your mother’s death with nothing else to go on. If it hadn’t been for their belief system, could your father have had an easier death, less of a shock to your mother’s system? Over the years you’d started to find comfort in those same rules, the familiarity helping you feel close to your long gone family and hold onto something stable.

Joel nudges you, and it takes you back to the present, where you’re being urged towards the front door, feeling his warm hand splayed across your lower back in support and possession. Right off the bat, you know he wants to remind the dinner guests who you belong to.

You stand glued to Joel’s side as Tommy opens the door, fighting the urge to slink behind him and hang onto his shirtsleeve like a child. It’s hard, when all you’ve ever wanted was that - to be a child, to be allowed that freedom to just exist, and Joel is maybe the first person to give that to you. In his own way, of course. 

“Hello,” you mutter in their direction as they look at you expectantly, standing straight with your arms at your sides, eyes dropped slightly - signs of respect they’d drilled into you.

“Oh, come here,” Josephine says, her tone strained with emotion you can’t quite place. She steps towards you, pulling you into her arms, and suddenly you remember. The rarely seen kind side buried beneath the rigid exterior she puts on to keep the precious order in her life from falling apart.

It’s awkward, taking you a moment to fully embrace her back, realizing that even before everything with the raiders, before your lives had been torn apart, she’d hardly ever hugged you. It feels nice, knowing there may be more to Josephine than she’d ever let on, and a flicker of hope stirs in your gut. 

“Hi Josie,” you whisper more kindly this time, watching her tight smile as she pulls back and spots Joel hovering behind you, hawk-like in his vigilance. Harry snatches you right out of Josephine’s grip, giving you an even tighter hug and you allow yourself to relax into it, if only slightly.

“We still can’t believe it,” he says breathlessly into your ear before pulling back, leaving his hands on your shoulders and taking you in for a moment with sweeping, studying eyes. The tension is thick between the two parties, you can feel it already, knowing this will likely end up being anything but a simple dinner together.

“Come on in,” Tommy interjects with what sounds like as much hospitable gusto as he can manage, feeling the air shift as Joel stands broodingly off to the side, observing. 

“Mm, howdy…” Joel mutters the halfhearted sound in greeting under his breath as they pass by, led out of the foyer and into the living room by Tommy and Maria. His arms are folded tightly across his chest, his head bowed down as he watches them move past from underneath his dark brows. You hang back and touch a gentle hand to his forearm, which instantly makes him relax his arms to his sides, albeit with a scowl still plastered on his face. 

Your small, encouraging smile seems to be enough to get him to follow you as you trail behind the group. You take in Josephine, her familiar small frame clad in a long, modest dress that looks far too hot for the summer heat that’s been sweeping through Wyoming. It strikes you as odd in the moment how little you’d thought about things like that before, how pointless it had seemed to question them. You’d have been wearing that same dress, too, if they still had their say about it.

It’s anything but comfortable as you all settle in at the dining table, the scraping of chairs being pushed out and back in, and rustling fabric of clothing the only sounds for far too long.

“I -” you stutter out, the sound caught in your throat when Josephine speaks up first.

“Thank you for inviting us. You have no idea how… truly regretful we are about yesterday. A shock to the system will do that for you. Won’t it, dear?” Josephine turns to Harry on the last question, smoothing her dress in her lap. 

“We could hardly sleep, we felt so utterly… distraught over the entire thing. Had to pray half the night over it. You must know… we didn’t anticipate… we never would have wanted to hurt you,” Harry says to you, reaching a hand out onto the table, an invitation that makes your heart clench along with your stomach. Their attitudes tonight, so distant from the two people you knew months ago, starts to make your head spin a little. Harry’s hand quickly clenches, and then flips over onto the table in defeat when you refuse to take it.

“I’m glad we can all get together then, yeah?” Tommy asks genially, yet the strain of holding the situation together already wears at his voice. You can practically read his already weary thoughts: this is going to be a long night.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, giving Tommy an encouraging lift of your face, trying to form it into some kind of smile for him. You know how hard he and Maria are trying for you and Joel right now, and you owe them this - a pleasant enough evening to hash things out between all of you. You can only hope that Joel is feeling the same form of gratitude, but the perpetual frown on his face shakes your confidence. 

“H-how is everyone? Or… I guess…” Your hands twist in your lap feeling guilt and sadness shoot through you at the memories of that day. “Did a lot of you end up here?”

Harry nods. “We were lucky, so many of us. Enough of us to rebuild. It’s been hard, not knowing what came next, but we know that Callum will lead us down the right path.”

You feel something inside of you shift at hearing his name. You should have figured anything would have been done to save someone as precious and irreplaceable as Callum. Your blood runs a little colder - there was always something about the man that inspired fear despite the fact that he was generally very kind to you. He’d had a hand in disciplining you before, but Josephine always said it should be an honor to have someone like him so interested in your spiritual well-being. It hadn’t always quite felt like that to you, though. 

“He - he’s here?” you ask, trying to tighten your voice from the wavering it’s threatening at you. Out of the corner of your eye you see Joel stiffen and his narrowed eyes as he studies your reaction to the mention of the group’s leader. You’re surprised to hear it, now that you think harder about it. Callum was risking exposure to a new myriad of people and beliefs, when before your secrecy and obscurity had been key to your survival. Although you suppose that hadn’t saved any of you from what happened, and desperate times would make even an obstinate man like Callum reevaluate things.

“Well you know he’s a busy man - trying to keep things going, counseling residents, all while finding us a new place to call home,” Josephine explains, her usual reverence for Callum bubbling up in her voice and sparkling in her usually cold eyes. “But he is staying here along with the rest of us. It’s been a time for all of us to get… closer.” She grins a little at the last word, a secret little gesture that you aren’t sure you can understand yet.

“I - I see. I hope he’s well,” you say politely. “I’m glad you two are okay, too.” You realized that you hadn’t quite expressed the sentiment to them yet, and it was true. You had always hoped that they made it out alive just as you had over these months you’d spent at Joel’s. You only wish circumstances were different, that maybe it had always just stayed as a vague hope, never to be confronted again. 

“So considerate.” Josephine clicks her tongue at you. “Haven’t lost all your manners living with him then, have you?”

You gape at her, feeling Joel’s body somehow tense even further than you’d thought possible next to you. Maria interrupts the impending awkward, stretching silence to announce that everyone should eat, proudly explaining how much of a group effort it was to get the meal together. 

Everyone’s pleasant remarks as they look down at their full plates after filling them up in the kitchen feels like only a weak balm to the discontent slowly simmering beneath it all. Tommy squeezes Maria’s shoulder as he looks proudly at the meal and gives her a semi-private smile, silent communication between two people in love.

“It’s not all bad, like you’re thinking,” you say to Josephine, finally finding your voice. “He isn’t… I’m still me.”

She gives you a sympathetic look imbued with her usual superiority, and it makes your blood run hot with frustration. “Oh, darling, you don’t know anything about it. You’re blind as always to the ways of the world, thinking so well of everyone, when you should be vigilant. Not letting the first man you see rip away everything you’ve ever learned.”

“Hey now,” Tommy warns her quickly, his fork pointed in her direction. “We’re here to have a nice meal together, yeah?”

Josephine studies Tommy, seeming impressed at his boldness. “In that case, I’ll get right to our point so we can enjoy the meal together.” Her attention turns to Joel, brooding and quiet across the table from her. “We just want her back. Want to start our new lives when Callum gets the sanctuary ready for us. Put all of this behind us - the raiders, losing everything, this awful period in our lives.” Josephine pauses, letting the emotions wash over her before she tenses, steadying her gaze on Joel’s face first, then yours. “We’ve decided it’s non-negotiable.”

Joel lets out a quiet snort next to you, shaking his head. Your hand splays on his thick thigh immediately, reminding him to keep his cool for his brothers’ sake, even if you wouldn’t mind watching the way Joel so vehemently protects you.

“What do you mean? Y-you all… are leaving Jackson?” you squeak out, glancing nervously at Joel to check in, finding him sitting stone faced with a tightly set jaw.

Josephine nods curtly. “Yes, we are. Callum has done wonderful work making sure we have a safe, new home. Even some people here in Jackson seem interested in joining us - our story, our way of living.”

You watch as Maria’s brow wrinkles slightly at the last line, her lips parting, but she decides against saying anything.

Josephine, the observant woman she is, catches Maria’s falter and moves to explain further. “We know you value your community, but so do we. Any new members are not only welcome, but a necessity to our survival.”

“Sorry, tell me if I’ve got this right,” Joel huffs out, breaking his silence and sitting forward. He locks eyes with Josephine, ignoring Harry in his periphery. A smart man - understanding who really pulls the strings, the one with the actual venom in this relationship. “You’ve been preachin’ your shit to the people here in Jackson? Pullin’ ‘em away from their homes here to join you in your… what was it you called it? Sanctuary? Yeah, real safe for this one, wasn’t it?” Joel makes a show of wrapping his arm around your shoulder, yanking you closer to show just how safe you are, thanks to him.

“Please -” you whisper, eyes wide and searching his face, already too far gone in the way it’s screwed up in anger. 

“No, they need to answer for it,” he snips, his eyes softening the slightest bit when he sees you recoil in fear. “You want to act like you care, like she means so much, but you let her go. Can’t get upset I was there to pick up the pieces of this girl, bring her back and see the value in her that y’all took the liberty of ignorin’ for years.”

Harry and Josephine both sputter from across the table. “V-value? What would you know about how we value her? The best -” Harry clears his throat, swallowing down his anger. “The best thing that happened to us right here.”

“It’s funny…” Joel leans forward on the table, lifting his eyes to Harry’s. “How I don’t believe a damn word comin’ out of your mouths.”

Josephine’s scoff cuts into the tight, silent tension. “You don’t know the first thing about valuing her. Mind the one thing you clearly want from her, isn’t that right? A young body to keep you warm at night, is that it? She’s hardly - she’s not herself anymore because of you.” She looks both you and Joel up and down in disgust. “You’ve ruined everything we worked for, ruined her.”

The way they’re speaking about you as if you’re not in the room makes you feel small, the brave version of yourself ready to come into tonight and stand up for what you want shrinks until you can’t find her anymore.

The room erupts at Josephine’s comments. Maria and Tommy start trying to de-escalate with words that overlap each other, their palms out in a calming gesture. Comments of “too far” and “let’s all talk this out” start to blend together until Joel’s voice booms above it.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” he cries out, ignited eyes flicking between Harry and Josphine. “Ruined her? Ruined her?! Who the hell raised her?!”

The couple shrinks back slightly at his raised voice, their first signs of weakness in this standoff. Joel’s broad body suddenly seems to fill much more of the room as he commands their attention, nostrils flaring and cheeks turning a steadier shade of red.

“I- well -” Harry tries to speak, quickly pressing his lips back together as silence descends on the room.

“Huh? Who was it?” Joel demands. “You think I ruined her? I saved her. And not in your sanctimonious bullshit way of savin’ people.”

“Daddy…” you breathe out, looking at him in wonder. His fierce defense of you is beautiful to watch, but you know it’s not going to help make this any easier.

The attention quickly shifts, the air around you moving to a halt, making your stomach turn. “What did she just say? What did you call him?” Josephine sputters out, her eyes flashing between you and Joel. 

Your lips tighten as your face heats in embarrassment under her calculated, scrutinizing gaze. Joel only doubles down on his near feral expression, clearly loving the way he can so easily antagonize the people who pose a threat to what he has with you. 

He gives them a sly grin, leaning his elbows onto the table, fire igniting in his eyes. “It bother you? That she thinks of me that way? Better at takin’ care of her than you two ever were?”

“Please,” you whisper again, a hand firmly planted on Joel’s thigh, squeezing to snap him out of it. “We can’t fight.”

“You’ve… made her sick,” Harry spits out, sounding choked up. “Darling, can’t you see that?” He looks to you and you’re frozen, your stomach tight and suddenly the half eaten plate of food in front of you makes you nauseous. Harry is out of his chair, coming around the table to your side, but Joel quickly puts his arms around you, pulling you close in an attempt to shield you from him.

“Don’t touch her,” he grits out, each word a sharp, new knife pulled out in defense. Harry lingers in shock, his hands dropping before he slinks back to his chair, defeated. 

“I don’t want to go…” you blurt out quietly, swallowing down the lump in your throat, willing your voice to go higher. “I don’t want to come with you guys. I want to stay with Joel.”

You hear a rush of air out of Joel’s nose next to you, the hand around your shoulder squeezing lightly, pride emanating from him. The weight on your shoulders lifts, and you take a deep breath, squaring yourself to meet their gaze. Josephine is unreadable, her head cocked as she blinks at you. She’s cool, calm, and collected when you’d expected an outburst, her hand wrapping around your wrist and dragging you out of the house. It sends a chill through your veins when a grimace spreads across her face. 

“All we want,” she says through gritted teeth, turning her attention to Joel again. “Is to get our daughter back. We’d lost a piece of ourselves when we realized how wrong we were for ever letting her out of our sight. Wondering how to get her back, if she’s alive. You’d understand that, wouldn’t you, Joel?” 

The cold calculation of her words pulls the air out of the room entirely, and you sense everybody else around you stiffening, a palpable tension radiating off of them. You seem to be the only one still able to move, turning your head to look up at Joel, who is as pale as you’ve ever seen him, eyes fixed on Josephine in a look you can’t decipher. Your lips part, yet nothing comes out but a strangled sound of questioning.

“Isn’t that right? That you’d do anything to get her back? We’re only doing the same as any parent would do.”

A low, husky sound climbs its way out of Joel’s throat, his fists clenched so tight that they begin to shake before he slides his gaze to his brother. Tommy’s face is screwed up in guilt and shock as he processes the quickly unraveling situation.

“What the hell did you do?” he roars, pushing back from the table, his chair clattering behind him. He stands up as he unclenches his fists, propping himself on the table by his palms. He hangs his head, nostrils flaring with each breath, but Tommy can only stutter across the table from him. 

“Da - Joel…” you whisper to no avail, your voice barely anything above a small squeak. You’re too afraid to touch him, but you want him to look at you, to see that softness return to his dark eyes as he explains in that way only he can what’s happening.

“J-Joel, I didn’t - I never thought -” Tommy scrambles for his words, his voice shaky as his eyes dart around the table, darkening when he sees Josephine’s satisfied expression.

“What did you do?” Joel asks again, punctuating each word through his heavy breathing. 

“I was just tryin’ to relate when we first met, I didn’t mean - I knew they lost theirs an’ just mentioned it, knowin’ we’ve been through that pain. I never would have if I’d known… fuck….” Tommy suddenly slumps in defeat, and Maria quickly holds onto him, whispering low reassurances. 

There’s a rushing in your ears that starts to drown out everything else, threatens to pull you away from reality as you try to put the pieces of this conflict together. You’re looking from person to person, torn between speaking up and letting things unfold as they are. 

“Oh, didn’t you know? She should know, if she doesn’t,” Josephine says with condescension, seeing your lost expression. At Joel’s angry silence and your despondent one, she continues. “His daughter, poor thing passed -”

“Don’t!” Joel finally yells out, “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her.”

A dizziness takes over and you fight to stay upright, blinking hard as your breath speeds up. Your thoughts swirl violently inside your head, matching the tune of your stomach. 

“Sarah…” you murmur before fully realizing you’d connected the dots. You grip onto the edge of the table to steady yourself before you look at Joel. His wild gaze is on you, the fear pooling in his widened eyes all the confirmation you need. 

How could you have been so stupid to not know before? To not ask? You’d seen the board, hanging in a place of pride above the fireplace here at Tommy and Maria’s, yet you were too absorbed in your own problems to even think twice about the names written on it with fateful dates below.

“She needed to know,” Josephine says, folding her hands in her lap. “If you hadn’t told her already, somebody needed to. He’s sick, darling. And he’s spread that sickness to you. Straying from us, our life, isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning for you. You’ll know just how sick you were, and how blessed you’ll have been to recover from that.” A shaky hand of hers reaches in your direction, desperate, clingy, looking to grasp onto you. You ignore it as your vision blurs in front of you.

The air is so thick with tension it starts to choke you as everyone sits silently, all eyes on you, a  mixture of unease and agitation staining their faces. But Tommy’s eyes look the saddest - dark and wide, his pupils blown out and irises glistening. His strained expression, full of regret, like he’s let you down, forces you to look down at the table.

“Get out,” Joel says, surprisingly controlled, yet sounding detached, unlike himself. Not your Joel. 

He slowly tears his scornful gaze from across the table to stare down at you. His broad form towering over where he stands, unblinking, nostrils flaring, shaking with unbridled anger - a true force to be reckoned with. 

“It’s not your place -” Harry tries to cut in, quickly silenced by the scraping of Tommy’s chair as he stands up, making Harry shrink back down into himself.

“I actually agree with my brother. Think it’s best for now,” Tommy replies.

You just blink softly in surprise at Tommy’s defense of his brother, fighting the tightness in your throat as Joel continues his silent staredown with you, trying to read you. You get the feeling that for the first time since you’ve met him, he can’t. The rest of the room seems to fade away from you - Tommy arguing with Josephine, her shrill voice threatening to cut through the rushing in your ears.

“Is it true?” you whisper, watching his eyes lose their composure for the briefest second. You know he wants to lie, deflect, and push it away again as he’s done every other time. Instead, Joel holds your gaze, and you watch his lips move, barely hearing the word.

“Yes.”

You’re up and moving, your feet carrying you as they pound against the plank flooring on your way upstairs. You rub at your eyes, trying to swipe the tears blurring your vision. The bathroom calls to you as your insides churn but instead you shut yourself in the bedroom, locking the door behind you and slumping down to the floor, putting your head on your knees. 

Deep breaths. It’s what you learned to do when you were overwhelmed at ten years old, facing the loss of your entire family, unsure of what a life like that could possibly hold for you. You can’t remember now which one of them taught it to you, the elders and members of the community who had visited you in that lonely house, that foreign house that was not yours but grew to be the place you’d called home.

Now you weren’t sure you had one at all.

It’s loud, so loud in your head beyond the noise of the shaky breaths you exhale into your legs, tickling the skin. You hardly hear them at all, or the knocking that comes to the door until it turns into a light pounding, a familiar voice at the other end of it. 

“Open up, c’mon, darlin’. Don’t - don’t do this -“ Joel calls out to you. You itch to simultaneously be near him and as far away from him as you could possibly get, and it messes with your mind.

“Why? W-why didn’t you tell me?” you ask him through your tears. Your chest tightens, that now all too familiar feeling of it caving in, your entire world changing, ravages you. You curl tighter into yourself, unable to stop the tears from flowing. “You had so much time…”

“I didn’t mean - I can’t go there. That’s why. Some things, sweetheart, you just -” His voice strains in frustration followed by the sound of his foot hitting the wooden planks beneath it. “Can’t talk about.”

You’re quiet for a long beat. “Even with me?” you manage to squeak out, unsure if he even heard you judging by the long pause that follows. You aren’t trying to hide your heartbreak from him, the honest, raw emotion of it coating the words that roll off your tongue.

“Yeah, even with you, honey. I - I ain’t like you, I can’t just… say it like you did. About your parents.”

You slowly shake your head as a fresh wave of panic washes over you, pulling you under, drowning you. “You’ll never… I’m so… stupid,” you spit out angrily, barely caring if he hears what you’re saying. “To believe I meant something. It was all about her. You don’t even - you can’t even love me.”

His voice is rushed, dangerously on the precipice between anger and desperation. “‘Course I do - fuck - please jus’ open this door, baby. Please. I’ll break the damn door down if I have to, just… let me in.” 

The exact thing you’re asking him to do for you. Let you in.

“I need air… I need…” you gasp out quietly, your weary, stinging eyes flicking to the window that’s thrown open, curtains billowing in the midst of an evening breeze blowing in. 

“Shit. I can’t hear you, baby. C’mon just open up and talk to me. I’ll tell you more, I’ll -”

His words fall on your now deaf ears as you stand up on shaky knees, praying they’ll support you as you pad over to the window and look down. It’s easier than you’d expected, practically a sign. There’s a small outcropping of roofing that you can climb out onto, sidling your way from there to the ground shouldn’t be too tricky, but…

You glance back at the door, hearing Joel’s pounding ramping up, and Tommy’s hushed voice now behind it, as usual trying to diffuse the situation that is his stubborn, possessive brother. It’s only for a bit, you think to ease the guilt, only to get some much needed alone time while you think.

You love Joel, but he can’t keep dropping bomb after bomb on you and expect you to spring back just as easily each time into his arms again. You know you’d follow him anywhere, that your need for him, your equal obsession with him runs too deep to let go of, but you’re tired. So tired, worn down from trying to love a man who you’re not sure wants you to actually know him. He wants to be your everything - your daddy, taking care of you, taking care of everything - but can’t give you more than a sliver of himself in the way that matters most to you. You know this behavior isn’t news, but it cuts deeper this time, knowing what you know now. A long kept secret, held so tightly to him, and you wonder if he’d ever have told you.

A daughter. The word restlessly floats through your head as you turn back towards the outside, fading sun along the grass in the backyard, and yank open the window with new resolve. You swipe the tears from your eyes when you hear the relentless question pass through your mind without permission once again as you swing one leg over the sill and then the other. 

Was she like you?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing that Joel finding you gone will send him into a panic and anger him. But like his own words earlier, it’s time for you to get what you want. Damn the consequences, damn Joel and his lies and withheld secrets from you.

All you want is some air.

The stables beckon to you of the few places you know in Jackson - the comfort of Willow’s warm, familiar presence and scent filling your nose as you bury your face into her neck. You’d pushed on through streets full of people, head low to hide your teary eyes, finding yourself here before you could realize exactly where your heart had led you. The dull thuds of your footsteps, shoeless in your haste, you now realize as your panic slowly dies down, are muffled by the soft hay in Willow’s stall. She greets you with a sweet whinny that makes your heart clench.

You know it would look bad if you were found here, like you were trying to ride off on Willow and escape for good. What if you were? What if you left all of this behind, found somewhere you could start over again? Somewhere far, far away from the unbearable pain that seemed to have a permanent residence inside of you now. For a second, you question your subconscious for bringing you here, then shake your head into Willow’s mane as a shock of terror rips through you at the thought. A life without Joel doesn’t feel like much of a life at all, you realize.

“Of course not. Right, Willow? I’d never make you leave Joel behind.” You say the thought out loud as you stroke along the sides of her head. She gives you a tiny snort, nuzzling you back, and you manage to crack a faint smile before it dissolves into your lip quivering.

“What am I going to do?” You sob, burying your head back into Willow’s mane, wrapping your arms around her neck. One hand grips tightly onto the o-ring of your collar, trying to steady yourself in the familiar feel of it. “Why do I love him?” you whisper quietly.

Because he is kind, in his own ways. He treats you well and is the first person to be honest with you about the world. Not his world, no, but he’s been honest where it counts so much of the time. Never skimping on the harsh realities, never trying to hide what others see as his depravity. He’s never seen you as flawed, as something to be unwanted - all of the things you’d presumed about yourself. You were his gift, you remind yourself with a pull at your heart.

Most of all, you know that he loves you, despite what you’d said to him. That love is twisted, you know, tainted from his past bleeding into the present and your future together. Yet when has this love ever been pure? From the moment he put you in chains - in more ways than one - and didn’t allow a seed of doubt to grow and send you away from him, it was impure. From the second he’d laid eyes on you, obsession already blooming, deciding the exact trajectory of the rest of your lives together, it never stood a chance to be anything pure. You’d started to believe that maybe no love really could be. It was raw and kept people staring, easily twisted into something sinful by strangers who knew nothing about what the two of you really shared.

Could he care for you like he does if he hadn’t experienced the loss of a child? Could he have this complete dominance, obsession, and reign over your every move if he hadn’t been brought to his knees all those years ago, hardened and ruthless by such a tragedy?

This is the Joel you get now, the one who has been through unspeakable things, ones he may never be able to share with you. Not the version you picture of him in his home, twenty years ago and happier with less stress weathering his handsome face. Not the version where he wakes up one day, warmly telling you how much he loves you in flowery words like you read in your romance novels. No proclamations, no simplicity in this life with him. 

He told you once that it would hurt, this love. And by God, it does.

You know he’ll have broken the door down by now, fear and anger coursing through him when he discovers the empty, quiet room. You don’t want to worry him, and finding you gone touches a deep, primal part of his past that you don’t think you can fix, no matter how badly you want to. It makes you cry harder, wondering how instead of healing him, maybe you’re only making him fall deeper, further into this place he’s buried himself. Is he sick, like they said? 

Joel knows you well enough to find you here soon enough, you think with a sinking heart. You lift puffy eyes off of where you’re tucked into yourself, realizing at some point you’ve sunk to the floor, crouched and blinking around heavily. 

The thud of footsteps nearing makes your cheeks heat - heavy ones, certainly men’s - and you steel yourself to be faced with Joel’s wrath. A pair of droopy, unassuming eyes nearly pass you by, stopping short after doing a double take at you crumpled on the floor with red eyes, utterly defeated. 

“My child, why are you crying?” he asks, soft and smooth, hiding his surprise. Calculated yet charismatic, he always was. Your surprise chokes you for a moment too long and he steps inside the stall without an answer, coming down to your level. 

“You know we can fix that. Come, come,” he says, and you feel your lip wobbling all over again at the familiar face before you. The first one you’d seen all those years ago, breaking the news to you that you no longer had any living family. A strange comfort to see him now, to feel him put an arm around your shoulders, and surprisingly, to feel yourself lean into it. When he hugs you, tears spring up all over again, streaking down your cheeks and dampening the spot where your face is pressed into his cotton button down. 

“Callum,” you whimper out, sniffling. His face greets you through blurred, teary vision, an understanding smile looking back at you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” You stiffen, suddenly mentally thrown back to all those months ago, when his authority was sacred, when it ran through your blood as much as anybody else in your community. There was always a fear there, burrowed deep inside from the way it had been drilled into you from birth. Respect and reverence: that was what Callum deserved for leading us so fearlessly. 

He shakes his head softly, not a trace of judgment in the way he studies you. The cold man you’ve known him to be is nowhere to be seen right now. It’s a welcome relief that you’d not even known you were craving this badly. Maybe he could actually understand and help you work out your feelings, not just tell you how disgusting you are now. Josephine always said he could counsel anyone through anything. 

He stands up, towering over you and emanating that quiet power of his. “None of that. Up now, let’s get you home,” he tells you, even toned and methodical, like a man as busy and important as him has all the time in the world for you. 

Pathetic and shaking below him, he offers you his hand. It’s a lifeline, a chance for someone to help you in one of your darkest moments. Warm skin meets yours before you can think, clasping tightly onto his hand.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

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"I love you , I'm glad we're friends"

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