Joel Miller Imagine - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

'The other side of the door'

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is giving you the silent treatment until you come back home hurt, and he wasn't there.

w.c: idk.

warnings: angst, miscommunication, mentions of a broken arm, fluff.

a/n: this is me after having an outburst about not writing again. If this flops I will have another one and I'll take a break forever. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

It was 2 a.m., and you were sobbing on the cold bathroom floor like a little girl, asking for her mother to kiss the tears away. The pain on your now broken arm was unbearable, but the stillness in your heart was worse, enveloped in a shirt that belonged to your brother-in-law instead of your boyfriend because he didn’t pick up the phone after the officers called him.

Instead, Tommy picked you up, rushing to you the moment he saw you by the ambulance with a sling around your left side and a bandage on your forehead.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? Where is Joel?” He said something, touching your face for some sort of answer, but you stopped listening to him after Joel’s name was mentioned.

“I don’t know where Joel is.” You said it monotonously.

Tommy's face paled as he realized the gravity of the situation. "It's going to be alright; we'll find him," he said, though his voice trembled with uncertainty.

“He didn’t pick up the phone,” you said again. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week, Tommy.”

“My brother can be grumpy sometimes; you know him,” he said, trying to find a way to make you smile, but you felt just ashamed.

You didn’t mean to be hit by a car on the on the way home, but everything happened so fast, and your mind was everywhere but focused on the road ahead of you.

“What if I call him?” he offered.

“He turned off the phone after my call,” you said, standing up slowly with the help of the paramedic.

Tommy helped you into the backseat of his truck, making sure you were secure before he slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was quiet, save for your occasional wince of pain and Tommy’s sighs of worry. He kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, his concern evident.

Once home, Tommy guided you inside, supporting your weight gently. He settled you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. "You need to rest," he said softly. "I’m sure you both will figure this out in the morning."

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The pain in your arm was a constant reminder of the accident, but the ache in your heart was a dull, persistent throb. You clutched Joel’s shirt tighter around you, its familiar scent providing a small comfort.

“Do you want me to stay here and beat him once he arrives?” He asked jokingly, making you smile for a mere second.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you said, managing a weak smile despite the situation. “But thank you, Tommy.”

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Joel can be stubborn, but he loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but sleep was still a distant hope.

Tommy stayed with you for a little while longer, making sure you were comfortable. He adjusted the pillows around you and tucked the blanket more securely. "You should get some sleep," he said gently. "I'll stay until you do."

You nodded, too tired to argue, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. You tried to focus on the comforting presence of Tommy, the warmth of Joel's shirt, and the hope that things would be better in the morning.

Eventually, Tommy rose from the couch. "I'm going to head out now. You can call me if you need anything, okay?"

You managed a small nod. "Thanks, Tommy. I really appreciate it."

He gave you a reassuring smile, though the worry never left his eyes. "Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning." He squeezed your shoulder gently before heading to the door.

You listened to the sound of the door closing and the silence that followed. The house felt impossibly quiet and empty. The weight of the evening pressed down on you, and tears welled up in your eyes again.

There was Joel’s shirt on the couch, and you clutched it tighter with your left arm, breathing in the faint scent of him. The memories of the accident replayed in your mind—the screeching tires, the impact, the confusion. But what hurt the most was Joel’s absence, his phone turned off, and the uncertainty of where he was or why he hadn’t answered.

You stood up, walking upstairs towards your and Joel’s bedroom, but instead of lying on the bed, you walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, and slid down, sitting on the floor. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

Joel wasn't home. Now that you needed him, he was out somewhere, still avoiding you.

You sat on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the door, and let the tears flow freely. The pain in your arm was nothing compared to the ache in your heart. You felt abandoned, hurt, and utterly alone.

As the minutes passed, you lost track of time, consumed by the overwhelming sadness. The sound of your sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you didn’t hear the faint sound of a key turning in the front door or the footsteps on the stairs.

Joel moved through the house with a growing sense of urgency, the emptiness and silence amplifying his fear. It wasn't until he stepped inside the bedroom that he heard you wiping from the bedroom.

Gently, he opened the door and saw you sitting on the cold floor, clutching to your own arm and sobbing uncontrollably. The sight broke his heart, and he immediately kneeled beside you, his presence startling you from your sorrow.

"Go." You whispered, ashamed of yourself for being hurt and crying.

"What the hell happened?" He asked softly, ignoring your pleading. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.

"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, ignoring your plea. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.

"Now you want to talk?" you asked, standing up carefully and using the wall for support.

Joel reached out to steady you, his touch gentle but firm. "Please, just tell me what happened," he said, his voice filled with concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I was hit by a car on my way home. It happened so fast, and I was so scared. The officers called you, but you didn't answer. Tommy came instead."

Joel's face paled, his eyes widening with shock and guilt. "I had no idea. My phone died, and I was out of town.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt and anger you felt couldn’t be ignored. "You haven't talked to me in a week, Joel. I needed you, and you weren't there."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. Please, let me make it right."

You looked at him, and the regret was evident on his face. It mirrored your own feelings, and slowly, the anger began to melt away, replaced by a longing for things to be better. "I just needed you," you repeated, your voice trembling.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now. I promise, I’ll never let you down again.”

"You didn't seem to care about me for the last week, Joel."

"Lo—"

"Don't you dare call me that now. I'm mad at you," you interrupted, your eyes flashing with anger.

Joel looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words. "I know I messed up. I know I've been distant, and I'm so sorry. But please believe me, I do care about you more than anything."

You took a step back, needing space to think and process everything. "If you care so much, why did you ignore me? Why did you shut me out over missing dinner?"

His heart broke at the sight of you, staring away from him with dried tears on your cheeks. He didn't have words left to make this better, nor a way to ask for forgiveness or soothe your heart after breaking it without real intention behind it.

He was angry at you for missing the dinner, and he wanted to get it back at you.

But this? This wasn't what he wanted.

"I can't say how sorry I am," Joel continued, his voice cracking.

"Well, don't say it then," you snapped back.

"Love—"

“No! I'm tired, and everything hurts. My arm is broken, and I feel so humiliated right now. I just want to go to sleep,” you cried out, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion.

"Okay, let me help you,” he said, reaching out to touch your shoulder, but you stepped back from him.

"No, everything you have done for the past week makes me cry," you said, the weight of your words hanging in the air. "You make me cry," you sobbed into your hand, trying to sweep the tears away.

Lifting your gaze, you looked at Joel, who seemed to be conflicted. His brown eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, almost made you give in.

"Could you please sleep in the guest room tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's face fell, but he nodded slowly, understanding the need for space. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."

You nodded, too drained to respond further. Joel hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the room, the weight of his footsteps heavy on the floor. As he reached the bedroom, he turned towards you.

“Do you want to know why I was so mad at you for missing that dinner?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.

You looked at him, the exhaustion and pain making it hard to process everything, but you nodded slightly, curious despite yourself.

Joel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “It wasn’t just about the dinner. It was because I had planned to ask you to marry me that night.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at him, the weight of his confession taking a moment to sink in. You felt your heart beating so fast.

“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And that’s on me. I should have talked to you instead of shutting you out. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry for everything.”

The revelation left you feeling even more conflicted. The pain of the past week, the accident, and now this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.

Joel took a step back, giving you space, but not without planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, just next to the bandage. “Goodnight,” he said gently, before turning and walking to the guest room.

After that, you lay down, clutching Joel's pillow tightly against your chest, the familiar scent providing a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you closed your eyes, the weight of the day slowly began to lift.

The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. The weight of Joel's confession and the emotional turmoil of the past week kept you from sleeping peacefully. The silence of the house was deafening, and the pain in your arm felt almost secondary to the ache in your heart.

Around 3 a.m., unable to bear the loneliness any longer, you decided to go to the guest room. Moving slowly and carefully, you made your way down the hallway, each step mindful of your broken arm. The pain was a constant reminder of the day’s events, but the burning desire to be near Joel overpowered it.

You opened the guest room door quietly, the creak of the hinges making you wince slightly. Joel was lying on the bed, his back turned to you. You carefully slipped into the room, trying not to disturb him too much. The guest bed was slightly too small, but you managed to settle in beside him, positioning yourself so as not to jostle your arm too much.

Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, his gaze shifting to you. Confusion and surprise crossed his face as he saw you lying next to him. He sat up, pushing himself on one elbow, his brow furrowed in concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You shifted slightly to face him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep... I needed to be close to you.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he reached out carefully, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Are you okay? Does your arm hurt?”

“It hurts,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I just needed to be near you, to feel like everything might be okay.”

Joel nodded, understanding the depth of your need. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again, though his tone was gentler this time. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, just let me be here for you.”

You reached out and took his hand, feeling curiosity creeping up. “About the proposal,” you began. “Are you planning to ask me soon?”

Joel's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. “I was planning to ask you that night,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with regret. “But now I don’t feel like I deserve you.”

You searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

Joel took a deep breath, his expression serious yet tender. “Now, I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I ask you. I want it to be right, and I don’t want to rush into it just to fix things. But I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

You smiled softly in the darkness, your heart swelling with emotion. “I would love for you to ask me now,” you whispered.

Joel chuckled softly, a sound that was warm and comforting in the quiet of the night. “Even with the broken arm?” he asked, his voice light with affection.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Even with the broken arm, I know we have things to work through, but I’d still say yes.”

Joel’s laughter was gentle, filled with relief and affection. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Alright, then. I promise that when the time is right, I’ll ask you properly. For now, let’s focus on getting better and being here for each other.”

You nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t need a fancy proposal in a fancy restaurant, Joel. I just want you,” you said softly.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his hand gently stroking your hair. “And you have me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “No matter what, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together, and when the time is right, we’ll take the next step together too.”

You let out a small, playful sigh. “Okay, if there isn’t a ring on my breakfast tomorrow, I’ll be mad,” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Joel laughed softly, the sound a comforting balm to your troubled heart. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone light but warm.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and sincere. “So, would you like to marry me?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a response.

The question hung in the air, tender and unexpected. You looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. The warmth and love you felt in that moment made it clear that you were ready to take that next step.

With a smile that spoke of both relief and joy, you nodded. “Yes, Joel. I would love to marry you.”

Joel’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and relief. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness to avoid hurting your broken arm. “I’m so glad,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll make it work, I promise.”

You snuggled closer to him, the sense of security and love filling you with a peaceful calm. As you closed your eyes, the laughter and playful banter gave way to a hopeful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his presence and the promise of a future together.

THE GREAT WAR

Joel Miller x f!oc

pairing: Joel miller x fem!reader.

status: completed.

series warning: angst, fluff, established relationship, age gap (Reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), child loss, anger, some tension.

series summary: "After things fell apart it seemed that Joel and you were falling into pieces. Is it the end of all the endings? How long will it take to mend a broken heart?"

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

/All that bloodsheed , crimson clover uh-huh, sweet dream was over, my hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the great war/

We're In This Together

Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: Joel calms you down during a panic attack. 

Author’s Note: Despite being a reader insert, Joel's companion is an adult. As such, use of the term "babygirl" is a pet name, not an indication of age/someone who is underage. My first fic for The Last of Us so please be kind!

Reblogs are appreciated, comments are love💕

Warnings: anxiety, panic attack, mention of the infected, mention of weapon

The old weathervane above the dilapidated barn groaned outside your window, spinning forcefully with the gusting wind. The creaking sound was an unsettling reminder of the terrible shrieking you’d tried to put out of your mind. Removing the tattered gloves you wore and rubbing your hands together for warmth, you attempted to think of anything else. Closing your eyes tightly, you envisioned a crackling fire and hot tea with honey. Although you were good at imagining the things you’d come to live without, tonight was different. You couldn’t keep the fear at bay no matter how hard you tried, receiving no comfort from the cozy memories that usually calmed you.

A familiar tightness in your chest returned as you wondered how much longer you’d have to live like this, running from the infected and making a home wherever you found shelter. As you counted the days you'd already been looking for your family, your future unraveled before you along with any remaining fortitude. You looked around the weathered farmhouse where you found yourself tonight and wondered who had once called this place home. You shivered as you thought of those who were surely dead by now, allowing you to occupy their space because they no longer had need of it. The crushing guilt pressed into you until you felt suffocated by it.

Stop it, stop it! you chided yourself, banging your head against the peeling wallpaper. Get it together! you thought as you dug your heels into the floorboards, every muscle in your body tense as your stomach churned. You tried to stay strong and remember why you and Joel were still searching after all this time, but you couldn't concentrate. You began to shake as your worst fears replayed in your mind on constant loop and you couldn’t end it. The fit overtook you more quickly than usual, rapid breathing turning to dangerously shallow hyperventilation in seconds as the terror consumed you.

The sound of heavy footsteps outside your door had your heart racing even faster in seconds, threatening to tear from your chest. Your eyes darted up in time to glimpse Joel’s boots by the dilapidated wooden door and soon you spotted his jeans, moving toward you in a blur. The room began to spin as you heard the distant thud of his rucksack hitting the floor. “Y/n, it’s gonna be alright, I’m comin’” Joel called out, crossing the floor in long purposeful strides to reach you as quickly as possibly. He knew the signs of your panic attacks well by now. You were too dizzy to comprehend his words, only feeling the warmth of his hand on your cheek at first, bringing you around. His brown eyes studied you with deep concern. You hadn't been this bad since the night you met.

A year ago, he found you hidden away, clutching an old hunting knife of your father's. Separated from your family during evacuation, you were unsure how to navigate this new world, let alone an attack by several infected. He’d gotten to you just in time to save your life, but your conscious mind had slipped below the surface where he couldn't reach you. It wasn't until hours later through his calm demeanor and gentle voice that he was able to pry the weapon away. He held your hand, promising not to leave you, until you felt steady enough to tell him your name.

Taking up a place behind you now, Joel promised, “Nobody’s here but us, babygirl. You’re safe with me. I got you." He cradled your back to his front, legs and arms bracketing yours, securely holding you in place. Without the need for words, you felt his chest rise and fall against your back, urging you to adopt a similar rhythm for yourself. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, wanting the spinning to end. “It won’t stop, It won’t stop,” you panted, desperately clutching onto his hands, fingernails digging into his skin. Joel wished you never had to suffer like this again. He would have done anything to take the feeling of powerlessness from you.

“I got you. You're safe. I’m here no matter what, okay?” you heard him say in a soothing monotone, the rumble of his deep voice reverberating through you as you felt his beard rub against the top of your head. After a few mintutes, your heartbeat slowed it's pace. As the relief began to wash over you, the waiting tears silently escaped your lash line and slid down your cheeks.

Pulling away to search your eyes for understanding, Joel rubbed your arm gently asking, “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shook your head, unable to put your finger on what had triggered you. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it now,” he said, wiping the tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You should try to get some rest though. You wanna lie down for a little while?” he suggested. You nodded as you clung to his jacket. He slowly lowered you both to the ground, wrapping his arm around you so still felt connected to him. You breathed in the familiar scent of him as he stroked your hair gently. “I'm sorry,” you said, sniffling. 

“Shhh, you don’t have to do that,” he reminded you. No matter how much you apologized, Joel  told you you weren’t a burden and that knowledge made you feel secure with him, knowing that you didn’t owe him anything in return for his kindness. 

“Joel?” you asked in a shaky voice.

“Hmmm?” he grunted.

“Do you ever wish you were on your own?” you asked hesitantly. 

You felt his body go rigid for a moment. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, voice suddenly turning harsh. 

You slowly turned to look at him, noticing the deep furrow in his brow as he studied you. “I…I just thought…well...we might go our separate ways in the spring,” you stuttered, trying not to explain your feelings about how much better Joel might be without you. He must have thought it before, the freedom he'd have by himself with no one to care for or defend. If you said it first, maybe he wouldn’t have to propose the same plan to you one day when it all got to be too much for him.

You watched Joel’s face fall, a pained look of hurt and confusion settling over his handsome features. He cupped your face in his large, rough hands, staring into your eyes for a moment before he finally spoke. “Don’t you understand? I wouldn’t have been able to go on all this time without you. You’re the reason I’m still standin’, darlin’. I need you,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.  His thumb stroked your cheek gently as he added, “Remember what I told you the first night we met?”

Tears clouded your vision as he spoke those words to you. You nodded, thinking back to that fateful night. You laced your fingers through his as you answered with the words you’d never forget, “We’re in this together.”

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**If you liked this fic please leave a comment or reblog! If you have an idea for a fic, send an ask! Interaction keeps me motivated to write.**

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weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

Changes - Joel Miller Imagine [The Last of Us]

Title: Changes

Pairing: Joel Miller X Reader

Word Count: 2,158 words

Warning(s): gunfire, murder, awkwardness, abandonment

Summary: [Episode 6] (Y/n) thought that Joel and them were finally making some steps forward in their relationship... in a few ways. If only progress didn't run the constant risk of going backward.

Author's Note: I have a friend that asked if I had written The Last of Us fanfiction... I am adding to the collection for their sake... totally not my own.

PART TWO HERE

PART THREE HERE

----------------------

Working with Joel was strange.

There were these times when he was completely closed off. Gruff and abrasive. Acted like he had never smiled a day in his life. I would affectionately call him Oscar to Grouch at those times. In my head. The last time I said that one out loud, I'm pretty sure he had to use all of his self-restraint to keep himself from shooting me.

But there were other times when the shell cracked. He would smile at me. He would actually participate in my admittedly stupid banter. He was sweeter. Not a lot, but enough for both of us to relax.

I sometimes thought that I clung to those "other times" a little too tightly.

That was why I stuck around him for so long. Those looks behind the curtain were enough to get my attention. I held onto them as much as possible. It was like holding a burning candle and watching the flame dim until you could find another match.

I tried to believe that I wasn't seeing things that weren't there.

But that would have been too easy.

I had to face the possibility that there was nothing there between us.

That realization came like a slap in the face.

We had gotten a truck and supplies from Bill and Frank's compound. The three of us were hidden away in the woods, far away from the road.

Ellie was asleep.

I was sitting next to Joel. I had always had trouble sleeping, even before the apocalypse. The constant threat to my life didn't help.

"You should rest."

"Don't tell the chronic insomniac to sleep," I replied. "It's like telling a psychopath that they're a psychopath."

I looked over just in time to watch his eyebrows furrow. "What?"

"It's very upsetting," I explained.

"Right," he mumbled. "I will never get how your mind works."

"Keeps me interesting," I shrugged.

I leaned my elbows on my knees as I watched Ellie a bit longer. I took a deep breath.

"It feels weird how protective I feel over her," I said quietly. "It hasn't been all that long, yet I feel like I'd burn the world down to keep her safe."

Joel hummed in response.

"You are so talkative," I mumbled. "It's one of your best qualities."

"I've been saying that for years," he replied sarcastically. I scoffed.

"I think you're obsessed with the gruff, mysterious reputation you have going on."

"I would've changed it if I could," he explained. "Damn thing made it so you're stuck to my side, why would I choose to hold onto it?"

"Oh, hush, I've grown on you."

"Like a tumor."

I chuckled at the sarcastic response. "Asshole."

"Keeping up the reputation."

I rolled my eyes as I turned my head to look at him. He looked at me.

Maybe it was the silence. Or the loneliness of the whole thing. Or some stress spilling over into the current moment. Maybe it was just something about the woods. Something around us made me braver for just a few moments.

And those few moments were all I needed to push myself over and pressed my lips to his.

It was nothing more than a peck before he pulled away from me. Abrupt and sudden. Like a scared animal.

I felt a sliver of pain slide through my heart as I turned my attention away from him, looking straight forward.

"(Y/n)," Joel said.

I didn't respond. I felt dizzy from my own stupidity.

"Me and you... we're two people that happen to do jobs together," he muttered after a while.

I nodded, trying to ignore the embarrassment that wanted to come out as projectile vomit right about now.

"That's it-"

"I got it," I cut him off. "I... I'm sorry."

He cleared his throat. "You should-"

"Get some rest. Yeah."

There it was. That shell.

I should have just grown accustomed to it.

We continued on like nothing had happened. It was all work. Nothing more than that. We just needed to get all of the work done.

I held onto that as we drove off the next morning.

It was easier to focus on Ellie than it was to think about Joel.

She was a smart kid. Smart and resourceful and brave. She was ready to kick ass at the drop of a hat. I admired her. Maybe that was part of why I was so protective of her.

It was especially easy to ignore my embarrassment when the chaos broke out around us in Kansas City.

The truck crashed through some old store. The gunfire followed soon after. We had gotten Ellie some hole in the wall. Safety.

The silence after the gunfire was almost scarier than the sound of the shots. It was the adrenaline. The fear meeting caution. It was like a closed soda bottle getting shaken up.

I heard the door slam open before I saw anything move. A guy tried to pin Joel to the ground.

Shooting him was the easy part.

Getting my hands to stop shaking after was the worst. I let out a loud sigh.

I heard Ellie climbing out of the wall to check on us.

"You alright," I asked her. She nodded. I took another deep breath.

Joel had pulled himself off the ground by then. He was just staring at me with this shocked look on his face.

"What about you," I asked.

"I'm good," he nodded. "Thanks."

"We'd be kinda screwed if I let you die," I replied. "Just doing the right thing."

There was a long pause as the tense air seemed to dissipate. I barely managed to drag my eyes from Joel.

"Head back in there," I told Ellie. "Look for a door for us to get through."

She nodded.

It wasn't until she was gone that I turned to Joel again. "You sure you're okay? You got a... look."

There was no response from him.

"Joel?"

"Ellie, turn around," Joel said, still looking at me. I glanced back at the wall, chuckling a bit at her little face poking out.

"Why," she asked.

"Just do it," he muttered.

I heard the dirt and gravel shift under her feet as she grumbled and spun around on her heels.

I raised an eyebrow at Joel. "What is it?"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. I stumbled a bit as he awkwardly kissed me. I grinned against his lips as I balanced myself and kissed him back.

I pulled back first. I smiled before stepping away a bit. I saw a grin pulling at his lips as I did.

"You can turn around, Ellie," I chuckled.

"Did you guys kiss," she asked as she did, popping her head out again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I shrugged as I walked over to her. "No idea at all."

"You're full of shit!"

"Am I? Joel, am I?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

Ellie looked between Joel and me. She finally scoffed and rolled her eyes.

It felt like something had changed. Shifted.

And I liked it. I really, really liked it.

After the heartbreak in Kansas City, I expected that shell to build itself up again.

Joel wasn't romantic. I knew that much. But I found enough comfort in how his hand touched my back. It was barely there, but it was enough. I offered him a sad grin.

Three months.

Three months after that change initially happened.

We developed some patterns.

We found ourselves in a camp. A commune of survivors that made a life for themselves. A new beginning. It gave me a moment of pause. A small shimmer of hope that I felt silly entertaining.

Ellie and I ended up following Maria around while Joel caught up with his brother. It was nice. Knowing that he found him again.

We were put up in some house to shower and change. It was in amazing condition. Unfair, honestly.

I stuck next to Ellie as much as I could.

We snuck out of the movie they were playing that night. She was reading from some old diary. I was looking at the old photos and posters. It was a museum. A perfectly preserved image of the past.

Joel walked in a while later.

He stood in the middle of the room. Tense. I stepped over to him. I didn't want to cross any lines, but my brain was yelling at me to grab his hand or touch his face or something. Do something to bring him back down to earth.

I stood halfway between him and Ellie.

"Why are you here," Ellie asked from her seat.

"I came here to talk to you."

"No, why are you still here," she corrected. "If you're gonna ditch me, ditch me."

"No one's ditching you," I shook my head, looking at her for a moment before turning my attention toward Joel. The guilt was etched into his face. "Isn't that right, Joel?"

"I heard him," she spoke up. "Talking to his brother while you were focused on the lights and shit. 'I have to leave her. You have to take her.'"

I clenched my jaw. "Goddammit, Joel."

"I stood up for you today because I thought..."

Ellie trailing off broke my heart.

"I made this decision for your own good," Joel spoke up. "You'll be way better off with Tommy."

"You didn't think to talk to me about this," I asked.

He ignored me, "He knows the area better than I do-"

"Do you give a shit about me or not," Ellie slammed the diary down as she snapped at him.

"Of course, I do."

I looked down and let them argue.

I knew where I would be at the end of all of this. The only question was whether or not Joel was going to join me.

"Then, what are you so afraid of?" she stepped closer as she spoke. "I'm not her, y'know?"

I tensed.

"Maria told us about Sarah and-"

"Don't," Joel stopped her. "Don't say another word."

"I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel," Ellie walked closer to him. "But I've lost people too."

"You have no idea what loss is."

"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody, fucking except for you!"

I barely moved forward as she went to shove Joel backward. He didn't flinch.

"So don't tell me that I'd be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."

I touched her arm.

"You're right," Joel said. "You're not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain't your dad. Now, come dawn, we're going our separate ways."

"Joel," I muttered, following him out. He slammed the door shut. "Let's talk about this. Because that should have happened long before you made this choice."

"There's nothing to talk about," he replied.

I scoffed.

"Be ready to go in the morning."

"Joel, no."

"Our job's done."

"She's terrified," I said. "We're probably the most stable things that she's had in years. I'm not gonna abandon her. She's a kid-"

"She's not a kid, she's cargo. This was a job and now the job is done. Let's go."

"You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that you actually still think that?"

"What did you expect to change?"

I froze.

The last thing I wanted to do in that moment was cry in front of him. But I couldn't help the burning behind my eyes. After all that had happened... all we had been through... the kisses... I thought that it was safe to assume that things were different now. That something had shifted in his mind.

"Have a safe trip, Joel," I muttered, blinking away any tears that tried to fight their way out.

"(Y/n), come on-"

"Job's done, right," I asked. "And nothing's changed?"

He paused.

"You said it before... we are just two people that sometimes do jobs together. Well, the job's done so you don't have to worry about me being 'stuck to your side all the time' anymore. You can finally get rid of me. Go do whatever the hell you want. I am going to make sure that kid isn't completely abandoned."

"(Y/n)-"

"Have a safe fucking trip, Joel!"

I walked back inside and slammed the door shut behind me.

I looked over at Ellie, who was standing in the middle of the room with tears in her eyes. It broke my heart. Damn near shattered the thing.

I stepped forward and yanked her into a hug. "I'm not going anywhere, got it?"

She hugged me back.

"I am not leaving you," I repeated, finally feeling the tears fall as my voice became shaky. "I'm going to stay right here and keep you safe. For as damn long as I can. Got it?"

She nodded against my shoulder.

"We're gonna figure this out, kid."

I just hoped that time would prove that I wasn't lying to her.

----------------------

Author's Note: I know it takes him all of like a minute to turn his ass around, but I needed the dramatic cut off. Let me have this one.

----------------------

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Prompt - ‘Sometimes you make the wrong decision and that leads you to the right decision.’

The thing about the end of the world is that nobody expected it. Sure it was a thing everyone knew would happen one day, one of the many, indisputable facts of life, but nobody ever thought it would happen to them. When people pictured the end of the world it was usually a wave of fire and panic before nothing, everyone expected nothingness at the end of the world.

So when the world did end on some random day in September people didn’t realise it for what it was, not yet. There was no end worlding bang, no thing in the sky falling down to destroy everything.

There was panic though, God was there panic. Every person was consumed by that panic, that fear of what was happening, so consumed that they couldn’t think past it, couldn’t think about whether there was a future after this.

It was the end of the damned world and yet the world stayed standing.

There was fire, a lot of fire, cities, houses, cars and planes went up in flames, smoke spreading fast and thick until people struggled to breathe through it. There was screaming too, people lay on the ground screaming as the dead bit into them, people screamed as they ran from the dead who moved too quick, people screamed as the military raised their weapons and shot them just because they had been ordered to.

The world stayed standing but everything else ended.

Communications had long since stopped working, if you were alone when it happened then you were alone for good…at least for a while. If you were one of the lucky ones you kept yourself safe until you could get taken in by the official quarantine zones. If you weren’t lucky then the dead would make quick but painful work of you.

Those were the two kinds of people nowadays, the lucky and the unlucky, the dead and the survivors.

Then there was you.

You weren’t lucky, you weren’t a survivor. When the world ended you had panicked along with everyone else. You were alone in Texas, it hadn’t even been a month since you moved out there for some job you had sworn was going to change your life.

You had no idea how you survived as long as you had, months into the outbreak or whatever this thing was, you were tired. The panic still existed, it consumed your every waking minute, you paused before turning a corner, held your breath at a creak in the house. You were trying to make your way to one of the safety points the government had set up, the ones closest to you all filled and your feet ached as every car you passed failed to work.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being scared, tired of being alone, you were tired of being tired.

So when you left a house you had spent the night in and heard a noise to your right you knew you had a split second to make your decision. Did you want to die? No, of course you didn’t, the answer came to you straight away but then so did the next question; did you want to live?

The answer didn’t come to you so clearly this time. You didn’t want to die but what was there to live for anymore. This was the world now, no hope, no cures, nothing. Why would anyone want to live in this world? It wasn’t living anymore, it was surviving one day just to survive the next.

And that was your answer wasn’t it, there was nothing to live for so why were you still fighting?

You saw it coming for you out of the corner of your eyes before you scrunched them shut, bracing yourself for the pain and hoped it would be quick. You felt its hand grab you before it went limp and fell to the floor and you let out a shuddering breath as your eyes flew open and down to the ground before turning to look around.

You weren’t lucky, you weren’t a survivor; you were something else. You were saved, saved by a man who looked as tired as you were, saved by a man who look like he was carrying a hefty weight on his shoulders, a man who scowled and shook his head as he snapped at you, asking what the hell you were thinking.

As he stepped closer to you your mind began running at a mile a minute. The main thing you felt was relief, thankful this man had made a decision for you, thankful he hadn’t left your fate up to you.

When he was close enough you didn’t even think, you couldn’t think properly, instead you threw your arms around him and hugged yourself to his chest. The man let out a small huff as he went tense in your arms before he sighed and wrapped your shaking figure in his arms.

“You’re ok.” He told you, his voice was gruff as he spoke and you couldn’t stop the sob that left you, one of the man’s hands lifting to cup the back of your head.

It had been so long since you had spoken to another person, you didn’t know who to trust these days but months of isolation were bound to make you just a little bit desperate for human contact.

“Sorry,” you said as you pulled away, voice croaky from not speaking for so long. “Sorry, I um, thank you.”

“You’re alright.” He told you again before his eyes ran over you, checking for something before his frown deepened. “Where’s your weapon?”

They were already dead, kept moving by whatever virus or parasite had infected them but still…it had never sat right with you to kill them. So you didn’t. It had been months since the world ended and you hadn’t killed a single one of them.

You weren’t a survivor, you weren’t lucky. You were careful and you calculated every single move you made.

You were tired.

“I don’t have a weapon.” You watched his frown deepen even more if it were possible.

“You don’t have a- how the hell have you stayed alive?” He asked you and you couldn’t do more than shrug at him. “You were ready to let that thing get you.”

It wasn’t a question, he had witnessed it himself and you weren’t going to correct him. Both of you knew you were grateful for his intervention.

Joel got it, he really did. Some days it took all his energy to not put a bullet in his own head or be done with it and let the dead have at him. The months since Sarah had been killed, had died in his arms, had been the worst of his life. He got you being ready to leave it all behind because most days he was right there with you.

And Joel looked at you and saw himself. He saw the tiredness, the bone deep exhaustion, he saw the hurt and the brokenness that felt like it would never mend. He saw himself in you but he also saw you, he saw the way you didn’t carry a weapon, he had watched a moment that was probably your most vulnerable and he had watched the relief in your features as you fell against him.

It didn’t take him much longer to make his decision.

“C’mon we gotta make the most of the daylight.” Joel said after a few moments of silence and began moving before you could even register his words.

In the span of five minutes you were making two life altering choices, you regretted you first decision but you had a feeling you were making the right decision this time and trailed after Joel as he led the way and for the first time in months it felt easier to breath as you made your way through the city, watching as Joel lay a protective arm in front of you, pushing you behind him, as he dealt with the dead.

__________

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Prompt - “What do you miss most? About life before all of this.”

You were already in bed by the time Joel came back from his shift and didn’t bother opening your eyes as you heard him close and lock the door before quietly walking over to the bed to press a gentle kiss just above your eyebrow. He was quiet as he shut the bathroom door and a few minutes later you heard the shower running, you knew he had been on body burning duty, the job everybody hated getting but paid well.

You let your mind wander whilst Joel showered, a dangerous thing to do most days but especially today when you, even twenty years after the outbreak, were feeling the effects of everything. Some days were fine, they were easy and it felt like you had accepted that this was how the world was now. Those days were great, you liked your little apartment, didn’t mind that you couldn’t leave the walls, you didn’t mind going to work. It was nice to pretend, especially when in those moments it didn’t feel like pretending.

Then there were days like today. Days where you struggled to drag yourself out of bed, hours after Joel had left for his shift. This morning was hard, you felt like your body was being weighed down by the weight of the thousand questions you had that would never be answered, questions of what had become of the people you loved, questions of what if’s and how could this happen. Days like today the world didn’t feel real, it felt like a dream that you would wake up from but you never did. Eventually you pulled yourself from the bed and went to work, on these days your body was on autopilot, you didn’t remember getting ready for work, you hardly remembered being at your job but the repetitiveness of it made it easy. The whole time you worked you weren’t really there, instead you were deep in your head.

It had been twenty years since the world went to hell. Twenty years was a long time, twenty years of questions swarming your head until you felt like you were drowning. How had this become your life? The world had ended and here you were sweeping the streets like it was a regular old day.

You hated it.

Being inside the walls on days like this felt suffocating and you longed to go outside. Joel went out sometimes but he never took you, always said his runs were too dangerous and you didn’t doubt it but a part of you would always long to see the outside of those walls again. The thought of being within the walls until you died made your skin crawl, trapped from the outside world because there wasn’t a cure for this virus, there would never be a cure.

That thought always consumed you with anxiety, turned your blood cold and you had stopping to force yourself to breathe, to push past the tingles in your hands and calm down. Sometimes you could handle it alone but most times it ended with you sitting with your back pressed to the wall and Joel walking in on you, moving over to sit besind you as he pulled you into his arms, his fingers running groundingly up and down your back until it was easier to breathe.

Today you had at least managed to make it to your bed before the anxiety became too much and ever since you had been in an almost paralysed state of staring at the wall in front of you until your eyes were too heavy to stay open and they fell shut though you couldn’t fall asleep no matter how drained your body felt.

You had been so focused on your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the shower shut off or Joel moving around the room as he changed into something comfortable before climbing into the bed behind you.

Joel felt you jump slightly as his arm slid around you, your head turning to look up at him with a confused look before you blinked several times and seemed to register it was just him. He pulled you closer so your back was flush against his chest, his arms around your waist and fingers drawing shapeless patterns into your skin. Slowly he felt you beginning to relax into his touch, not fully out of your head but enough that you could focus on the things that were real.

Joel pressed a kiss to your head and let his lips rest against your hair, smiling softly as your hands came to rest on his arms, your fingers coming to mess with the watch that had sat on his wrist for twenty years.

When you were like this it was easy for Joel to get lost in his own head with you but he always shoved his own thoughts down, it wouldn’t do well to have the pair of you out of your minds with grief.

Joel didn’t say anything, there were never any words to say when you were having a bad day because everything you were thinking was true, every bad thing you thought about the world was right. Joel knew how hard it was to carry the questions that were swimming around in your head because he carried his own questions, felt the weight of them every day.

So instead he did what he could do, he could hold you close to him, he could make sure you didn’t get too lost in your head, made sure you had his touch to ground you back to reality. He would be there for you in ways he knew he could. Most of the time when you had a bad day you tended to not want to speak anyway, sometimes you wanted to hear Joel speak, it didn’t matter what he said but sometimes you just needed more than his touch to help you find your way back. There was the rare occasion, it hadn’t happened more than a handful of times in the many years he’d known you, where you wanted to talk about what was happening in your head.

Today seemed to be one of those rare days.

“I don’t remember what my family even looked like.” You whispered, voice cracking as tears slipped down your cheeks and Joel felt his heart break, he knew what you meant.

Twenty years was a long time, so much happened and things became harder to remember. The sound of somebody’s laugh, the way their voice sounded when they were happy, the way somebody’s hair fell into their face or how they smiled. You could remember the song somebody sang in the morning, could recite all the words to it but couldn’t ever remember how they sounded when they sang it.

“I wonder about them all the time, did they survive, are they out there somewhere? Some part of me hopes they are but then another part of me, the part that’s tired, hopes that whatever happened that they’re at peace.” You said, keeping your voice low as you spoke and focused on the feel of Joel’s fingers through your shirt.

“I’m sorry.” Joel whispered into your hair and you laughed quietly though it came out as more of a sob really.

“You know what the most bittersweet thing is about this whole thing?” You asked, turning in Joel’s arms so you were facing him now, “I got to meet you, it took the world going to shit for us to meet. You are the best thing in my life, before the outbreak and after, you’re the best person I know.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel murmured as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so damn much, just hate that it took losing everything else to get here. In another life, baby, God, baby I promise in another life everything would be different, you’d never be scared again.”

“What do you miss most?” You asked him and it was a question that made him pause, not because he didn’t know the answer, God he knew the answer straight away, it was something that stuck with him every day of his life. “About life before all of this.”

He had never told you about Sarah, he didn’t know why he hadn’t but he had never spoken about her. Maybe it was because it was still too raw, too painful. Twenty years had gone since she was taken from him and it still felt like yesterday. You spoke about not being able to remember your family but some days Joel would do anything to get the image of his daughter shot, bleeding and dying in his arms out of his head.

“My daughter.” Joel said quietly and watched you pull away from him as you stared up at him in shock, your eyes were still watery as tears stained your cheeks. “I miss my daughter.”

“Joel-” You breathed out, no words coming to you and Joel couldn’t help but smile down at you as he reached a hand up to brush away the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Her name was Sarah.” He told you and his smile widened as he watched you mouth her name to yourself. “She was just a kid, twelve, and the best thing I have ever done with my life.”

“You’ve never told me about her.” You said, not prying for anything else but giving him the opening to share her with you if he wanted.

And he did. He wanted to share his life before the outbreak with you. He wanted you to know Sarah, wanted you to love her like he did because she was his whole world. Even twenty years later when so many of the memories he had with her had become foggy he never lost that overwhelming feeling of love.

“That kid- let me tell you if anyone was gonna call me out on my bullshit it was Sarah. The day the world went to hell it was my birthday and she called me right out for not being home on time, for forgetting the cake. Sarah matched me without ever missing a beat, the two of us could go back and forth all day long” Joel chuckled to himself and you smiled over at him, your full attention on him and he paused to kiss your forehead again. “Kid was more athletic than I ever was, she was on the soccer team, God knows how but I still remember her out on the field, still remember she was number 14. She was brilliant, so many awards that we didn’t know what to do with ‘em.”

“She sounds amazing.” You said softly and Joel grinned down at you even as his eyes shined with tears.

“Yeah, yeah she was.” Joel nodded and took a breath, “me and her used to go hiking together, just the two of us out for hours. I don’t even know what we talked about, can’t remember but I know she laughed, I know she loved going. Most kids her age got embarrassed spending so much time with their folks but not Sarah, hell she was always looking for more time for us to do things together.”

“She knew her dad was a special, smart kid.” You told him with a smile and he chuckled wetly.

“Some army asshole, the day the outbreak happened, it was just me and her, he could see we weren’t sick- Sarah hurt her ankle in the accident and I was carrying her but he could see we were fine and this asshole shoots at us. I tried to protect her but…she died in my arms and I couldn’t do anything.” Joel told you and you felt your own eyes well with tears again but you pushed them back as you pulled Joel into you, holding him against you as you murmured soft words of comfort.

“I’m so, so sorry Joel.” You felt your neck wet with his tears as he cuddled into you but you also felt him smile before he pressed a kiss to your skin. “I’m really glad you told me about her.”

“Me too, baby.” He murmured and you ran your hands through his hair. “She was my whole world, that’s what I miss the most from before.”

The two of you held each other, both of your minds filled with what had been lost, what could never be, thoughts of another life where you had met, where you knew each other's families…you had both lost so much and sometimes that pain was easy to get lost in but, through all that pain and suffering, you had also found each other, had found a love neither of you had thought possible, had found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with even if it was this version of a future that nobody had seen coming.

You and Joel were each other's anchor, making sure you stayed afloat when it was so easy to give up. This new world might have taken everything from you but it had also given you Joel and it was bittersweet but you were grateful to have found him, you weren’t sure either of you would have made it this far without the other.

__________

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Prompt - “I need you to trust me, there’s no time to explain,  just do everything I say and you’ll be safe.”

When you had first moved to Boston you knew then and there you knew your life would change, accepted into one of the top schools on a full ride scholarship, leaving your small town behind and being the first in your family to make such a huge decision. Of course you hadn’t quite expected how drastically your life would change, you hadn’t expected to be sat in your dorm room working on a paper that seemed so important at the time listening to soft music in the background before the radio to cut out abruptly with an emergency broadcast telling you to stay inside, hadn’t expected the flat hum of the phone as it refused to dial any number.

You still remembered those early days, sitting alone in your dorm room with no information on what was happening. You remembered the first bomb dropping, remembered how, even though it was far away, your whole room seemed to shake and you stood from your bed abruptly to run over to your window just in time to see the next bomb. You still didn’t know how you’d survived that but eventually you had to leave your room and that’s when you saw them, or more realistically it saw you first, its head cracking over in your direction before the rest of its body followed and you ran until your chest hurt.

You’d gotten lucky, you’d found one of the quarantine zones in the first month of the government having set them up, you’d been in here long enough to hear people’s horror stories of having to walk for miles, days on end, just to get here, heard how they had narrowly escaped the clickers. You’d only ever seen a handful of them and that had been in the first month of the outbreak, you couldn’t even imagine how they had evolved in the many, many years you’d been in these walls.

It seemed strange at first, hell sometimes it still felt strange, how the world in these walls never seemed to change. Here you were with jobs that provided ration cards, an apartment, if it weren’t for all the guards it’d be easy to forget about the outbreak.

Sometimes you were curious though, you’d stop counting how many years it had been since you first walked into the quarantine zone but it was long enough for you to forget what the outside world looked like. You’d heard stories about what they called the Open City but each one was even more unbelievable than the last, headless clicker roaming the streets, dead that had been set on fire still moving, hordes of them attached to each other as they made their way through the city.

You wanted to go outside, it’s not like you wanted to go very far either but it’d be good to remember what the old world looked like, to remember that beyond these worlds you once had a life, a life that was so different from this.

You had a gun stashed away underneath your floorboards, you remembered how fast the dead things moved all those years ago but it was a risk you wanted to take and there was only one person in the quarantine zone you knew that snuck in and out.

“Joel-” You started to argue but he cut you off before you could even begin.

“Don’t.” Joel said, shutting you down immediately, not even entertaining the idea for a second. “What makes you think I’d ever say yes to takin’ you out there?”

“I’d be with you, Joel, I’d be safe.” You insisted and watched as his face hardened and somehow felt like you’d said the complete wrong thing.

“I can’t keep you safe, Y/N! When I go out there I don’t have to give a damn about anyone else, if I take you out there-” Joel cut himself off as he sat heavily on the sofa and glared at you. “Don’t ask me again.”

“But Joel-” You tried again only to be cut off for a second time.

“What did I just say?” He snapped and you rolled your eyes as you sat down next to him, arms crossed over your chest and definitely not pouting. “Why you so desperate to get yourself killed anyway?”

“Why are you so damn sure I'll get myself killed?” You shot back before sighing and sinking further into the sofa. “I just, I don’t know, ok? Part of me just needs to see the outside world, it’s been so long. I know it’s dangerous, trust me I get it-”

“You don’t get it, Y/N/N.” Joel interrupted you again but this time his voice was softer as he leaned back into the cushions and turned his head towards. “There’s shit out there you don’t need to see, alright?”

“I wanna go outside, Joel.” You told him, lowering your voice to match his, not demanding anything but just repeating it. “I know it’s dangerous and I know I’m asking you to risk a lot but I really want to see outside the walls at least once more in my life.”

“There’s nothing good out there, not anymore.” Joel told you honestly and you nodded, you believed him, the second those bombs fell from the sky it felt like everything good had been taken with them. “You’re safe in here, Y/N, just…just stay in the walls.”

Despite Joel’s warnings you found yourself only a few nights later waiting until the guards’ shifted positions before you were sneaking out, knowing the way through information Joel had let slip across the years. It took a long time, there were a few close calls where you had to be as quiet as possible, but eventually you could see an opening to the city.

By the time you were out of view of the quarantine zone it was too dark to see much of anything, a strange feeling when years ago you had walked Boston’s streets at all hours of night and the streets had been lit up from streetlights, the lights from cars still out at that time, lights spilling out of bars and apartments.

The first thing you noticed was how quiet it was, the stories you’d heard made it seem like the streets would be filled with monsters, you unable to move past them, but the streets sounded empty and so did the building you entered, you weren’t sure how well you’d sleep out in the open city but you were going to hide away until the morning and explore as much as you could before sneaking back into the quarantine zone.

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep that night and when you woke up the next morning to the sunlight on your face you felt a burst of excitement. Last night it had been far too dark to see anything and you knew you only had a few hours of daylight. It wasn’t long before you were up, double checking your backpack and making sure your gun was loaded before you were pulling the door open, waiting a moment to see if you could hear anything, and heading out into the city.

You paused in the doorway of whatever building you had entered last night and stared out, frozen in disbelief. Skyscrapers had collapsed, some falling into each other whereas others had crumbled into piles of rubble. Greenery covered almost everything in sight and you couldn’t help but notice how the world had never seemed so green before the outbreak, maybe you just couldn’t remember but the city had never felt so full of nature.

As you walked further into the city you saw all the cars, ambulances, police cars, all of them dusty and long since dead, covered with leaves and moss. Your stomach turned as you saw a stuffed bear laying abandoned on the floor, looking up to see a kid’s car seat bloody in the car. You forced your feet to move, surprised at how easy it was to walk through the city, there wasn’t a clicker in sight, you’d been walking for a good hour, making your way through streets and buildings to get to the other side when the way was blocked and other than seeing dead bodies you hadn’t seen much else.

You finally came across a building you remembered, it was the library. In the year you’d lived in Boston you had practically lived in this building, could still remember the text books littering your table as you wrote your papers. To see it now was strange, it was long abandoned and the building had its fair share of greenery growing around it.

You hadn’t even taken five steps into the building, eyes wide as you looked around, when you let out a scream, the sound muffled as a hand wrapped around your mouth and an arm wrapped around your middle, trapping both your arms to your side and stopping you from getting your gun.

“And you're dead.” You heard a voice hiss in your ear before you were shoved away, barely staying upright as you stumbled and turned around.

Joel was stood before you, gun slung around his shoulders as he glared at you and you glared right back even as your breath came out quick and fast and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“What the hell Joel?” You shouted, stepping forward to push at his chest but he caught your wrist and pulled you close.

“Me?” He questioned in disbelief and tightened his grip as you tried to pull away. “What the hell are you thinking? Clearly you’re not! Jesus Y/N, you could’ve got yourself killed.”

“I asked you to bring me and you didn’t-”

“Don’t you dare put this on me.” Joel told you, his voice cold as he continued to glare at you. “If you die, that shit ain’t on me.”

You knew Joel was only shutting down on you because you had scared him, he liked to think he had his walls up but you’d known him for years at this point and you could read him as easily as you could your favourite book.

Joel hadn’t exactly been looking for friends when you’d met him working the same job but you had been persistent and before he knew it you had wormed your way into his life, even after he swore not to let anyone else in, he couldn’t go through another heartache. At first he kept his distance, refused to answer any questions about his life before but eventually he started letting you in, there was still a lot you didn’t know about his life before but then again the people you were before the outbreak were whole different people so you didn’t mind.

At some point it became second nature to spend all your time with Joel, it was rare to see you without each other and you weren’t surprised when you started liking the man. Joel had been cold and gruff when you had first met him, most people took one look at the man and decided it wasn’t worth the energy it would take to break through that hardened exterior but you hadn’t even given it a second thought, hadn’t been concerned with how long it’d take him to relax around you, you liked cold Joel, he snapped and glared but you liked him.

“Joel,” You began, bringing your other hand up to his, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before pulling his fingers off your wrist, Joel not resisting and you figured maybe he was calming down now that he had you in his sights. “I’m sorry, ok? I know this isn’t a game, I know it’s dangerous but I had to see.”

“Yeah I know you did.” Joel sighed and brought his hand back up to cup the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle into him, finally feeling your heart rate settle. “Is it what you thought it’d be?”

“It’s quieter than I thought,” you told him, pulling back only far enough so that you look up at him questioningly. “It’s weird too, I remember the streets were never quiet and now it’s deadly silent. I remember being in here during exam season and every seat was filled, even if people didn’t speak there was always noise, the turning of a book, somebody coughing, the scratching of pen against paper. The world really ended Joel.”

“You’re alright.” Joel assured as he pulled you back into his chest, wrapping his other arm around your shoulder and it was only then you noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks. It had hit you long ago, the reality of the world, but seeing it again after years of comfortable living seemed to shake you more than you thought it would. “You’re alright, Y/N/N.”

You nodded against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, taking a deep breath as you composed yourself. It wasn’t long before you were pulling back and looking around the library. Chairs and tables had been flipped, books and loose pages scattered across the floor whilst leaves and moss covered most of the surfaces.

“We should go.” Joel murmured but you shook your head, turning to look back at him with pleading eyes and he sighed before you could even speak. “One look around and then we go, stay close to me.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You said softly after a moment of silence and watched as he swallowed before he nodded at you and gestured for you to follow him.

Your fingers lightly traced the book shelves, somehow even after twenty years you were still able to find your way around, old, worn signs telling you you had remembered right.

“I used to study back here all the time, me and my friends would work on our papers and prepare for finals.” You told Joel and out of the corner of your eyes you saw him smile softly at you. “Back then it had seemed so important, you know? Like passing those exams or getting the best marks on our papers was the difference between life and death.” You chuckled as you ran your hands along a chair. “God, looking back now we were so stupid.”

“Nobody knew this shit was comin’.” Joel told you and you nodded, looking over at him to see him leant against a bookcase that looked ready to give out.

“It doesn’t even seem real, that life all those years ago.” You frowned as you moved around the table to go down another aisle and Joel nodded, opening his mouth to say something else before you interrupted.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, stumbling back into Joel’s chest and he didn’t hesitate to shove you behind him, gun raised before he saw a body on the floor, blood covering him and his chest practically torn apart. “What the hell-”

“Shh.” Joel shushed you, turning around to face you even as his wide eyes focused on everything but you, like he was looking for something.

“Joel-” You whispered but he shushed you again and you felt genuine fear fill you, your stomach dropped and you blood ran cold as you went to look around but Joel stopped you.

“Eyes on me, baby.” He murmured, keeping his voice soft and low, barely audible and you didn’t even have time to appreciate how good him calling you baby sounded as you took a deep breath and turned back to Joel with wide, scared eyes. “I need you to trust me, there’s no time to explain, just do everything I say and you’ll be safe.”

“Joel,” You whimpered and Joel cupped your cheek, bringing your foreheads together as he shushed you once more.

“I know you’re scared, baby, I know,” Joel whispered and you felt your eyes fill with tears. Joel was looking back at you and though he tried to hide it you could see he was scared and if something scared Joel you knew it had to be bad. “We have to be silent now, no more talking, trust me, I’m gonna get you home.”

You nodded and Joel wiped away the single tear that slid down your cheek, before he placed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled away.

‘Stay behind me.’ Joel mouthed at you and you nodded, practically gluing yourself to his back as he moved, both of you stopping dead in your tracks as an inhuman sound came from behind one of the book cases. You felt your heart stutter as you looked at Joel but his focus was on the direction the noise came from before he turned to look at you.

‘Quiet.’ He reminded you and you nodded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood to stop any sound from escaping. He tilted his head and you nodded again, keeping half a step behind him as you held your breath.

Just as you turned a corner you gasped but Joel turned and managed to cover your mouth just in time like he had been expecting the reaction. In front of you was, you couldn’t even describe it, it was monstrous, how that had once been human was mind blowing. Tears slid down your cheeks as Joel kept your mouth covered and the thing made its way towards the two of you causing you to screw your eyes shut.

You looked up at Joel when he tapped your cheek and Joel made a gesture where he pointed towards the clicker before he covered his eyes and mouthed ‘they can’t see’ before pointing to his ear ‘they go off sound’. You nodded and Joel removed his hand, watching how your face scrunched up in an effort to slow the tears and suppress any sobs.

He had to get you out of here, it was the only thought in his head as he kept himself between you and the clicker, making sure each step was silent. You’d managed a good few steps before the thing stopped dead in its tracks and turned sharply to face you and you couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath, that was enough for the thing to launch itself at the two of you.

Joel barely caught it, keeping his arm under its chin to avoid being bitten as he tried to get a good shot on his gun whilst also keeping one eye on you.

“Get out of here!” He yelled at you and he could see you frozen in fear. “Y/N, baby, you gotta go now!”

“I can’t leave you!” You called back and the clicker responded to the noise, trying to fight its way to you but Joel kept his grip on it somehow.

“Y/N I promise I’ll be right behind you!” He grunted as he tried to force the clicker back. “You gotta go!”

You waited another second before nodding and he watched you go with a sigh of relief, finally able to throw the clicker to the side. It only stayed on the floor for a second before it snapped back up and lunged at Joel.

Joel shot at it four times, each time missing its head with how much it was moving. Joel managed to shove it back down on the floor and shoot its chest before running the way you had gone, hiding behind one of the book cases and keeping as silent as possible. In the distance he saw you crouched behind one of the tables and took a silent breath as he peered around to see where the clicker was, the thing was up again and moving through the aisles, thankfully going the other way.

Joel stayed silent as he made his way over to you and saw you with your knees drawn to your chest and your eyes screwed shut. He lightly touched your knee and silently shushed you as your eyes flew open.

He pointed to where the clicker had walked off to and saw the gun clutched in your hands, gently prying it from you and seeing how much ammo you had.

‘You, go out the door, wait.’ He mouthed to you, motioning between you and the door before he watched as you shook your head. He nodded back at you before pointing to himself, raising the two guns he held. ‘I’ll distract it, you go.’

‘Joel,’ you mouthed and he could practically hear your pleading town as more tears slid down your cheeks. ‘I’m sorry.’

Joel just shook his head, you weren’t doing this now, right now he had to get you out of here and then he would deal with everything else. You weren’t going to die today, he wouldn’t let it happen.

‘Go baby.’ He mouthed and gestured for the door, watching as you took a breath, your mouth thinning into a line as you choked back sobs before you nodded at him. He cupped your cheek and you brought your hand up to his, hesitating for a moment before leaning forward.

It wasn’t exactly a kiss, both of you were too focused on being silent for it to be more than a brushing of your lips together but Joel pulled you closer anyway and held you against him for a second longer before he pulled back and brushed his thumb across your cheek bone.

‘Go.’ He mouthed again and this time you nodded more confidently as you stood silently and Joel followed after you, the two of you parting ways so Joel could grab the clicker before it got to you.

He knew how fast these things moved and if he had gone with you the door wouldn’t have even been able to open before it was attacking you, at least this way he could be sure you were out of the door and far away from this damn thing.

The two of you looked at each other and Joel nodded at you, he watched you take a breath before your hand touch the door knob and turned it, the sound causing the clicker to let out a loud noise that had Joel lunging for it before it could take more than a step in your direction. He wrestled the thing, trying to shove it as far away from the door as possible and out of the corner of his eye he watched as you left, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as he focused on the clicker.

It felt like hours before Joel managed to shove it to the floor, sweat pooling at his forehead as he shot both guns, using up all the rounds before he watched the thing finally lay lifeless, not movements coming from it. He took a moment to lean against the wall and catch his breath before he turned his head to the door.

After a few more seconds he made his way out of the building and scanned the area for you, frowning when he didn’t see you but the frown left as you peaked your head out from behind a car. In a few large steps Joel was pulling you into his chest and you were sobbing as you held onto him like he was your life line.

Joel’s hand rested on the back of your head as he held you up, his arms holding you close to him and he could feel your fingers digging into his back as you choked out apologies. Joel just kept shushing you as you continued to apologise, he knew he needed to move the two of you, he had no ammo left and the dark was starting to set in but he wanted to make sure you were ok first.

“Hey,” Joel said, pulling back and tilting your chin so you could look at him, he didn’t speak as he wiped gently at your cheeks, leaving his hands there as he spoke. “You have nothing to apologise for, alright? You needed to see for yourself what it was like out here, I get it Y/N/N, I do but you’re alright, I promise.”

“I should’ve listened to you Joel.” You sniffed and he smiled softly at you.

“You got an idea in your head, I should’ve known there was no stopping you.” He said and you let out a wet chuckle. “I’m not mad at you, we’re both alright.” Those words made your eyes widen and you pulled back abruptly causing him to frown.

“Are you?” You asked, tugging his sleeves up and inspecting it for bites before moving the collar of his shirt and checking there too. Joel chuckled as he caught your wrists in his hands, more gently than he had earlier and shushed you.

“I’m okay, promise.” He told you and your eyes ran up and down him before you sagged in relief, trusting that he’d tell you if he wasn’t. “Now will you please let me get you home?”

“Please.” You practically begged and Joel smiled softly at you before gesturing for you to follow him though there was no need to really, Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder and you had practically attached yourself to his side.

It was well into the night by the time the two of you got home, having Joel with you made it easier to sneak in and it wasn’t long before you were quietly entering his apartment. The walk home had been mostly silent, your thoughts running a mile a minute and Joel content with the silence and the feeling of you in his arms to tell him you were ok, that you were alive.

“Go clean up and change.” Joel told you as he closed the door and set his backpack down before moving to take yours off for you and then gently pulling your jacket off.

You didn’t say anything, just smiled over at him before moving into his bedroom and pulling out one of his shirts before shuffling into the bathroom. It was only a few moments later he heard the shower running and let himself collapse into the sofa, suddenly feeling drained now that he had gotten you back to safety.

He knew you were too damn curious for your own good, knew that you needed to see the world for yourself. He should have known you’d have gone out there with or without him, hell some part of him had known and that’s why he checked your apartment at five in the morning before marching back to his room and packing his gun, desperately hoping you hadn’t gone and got yourself killed.

Any of the initial anger he had felt seeing you gone had worn off long before he found you and now he could only feel relief. He knew you were terrified, the last time you had seen clickers up close was when the outbreak started, you’d told him about the bombs in the city and being scared at how fast the things were but this was different, this was twenty years of evolution.

Joel sighed and lay down on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. You were fine, the clicker hadn’t gotten near you and he had got you home safe. He could hear the shower running and knew you’d be out any minute, dressed in his shirt and ready to fall asleep in his arms.

That thought sent his mind back to the kiss. God, it hadn’t even been more than a small brushing of the lips but God, it had left him breathless. He knew you liked him, he wasn’t stupid. At this point you had practically moved into his apartment, the two of you spent more nights asleep together in his bed than you’d slept in your own bed since being here. He just couldn’t put himself in a position to get hurt again but today had shown him how even if he went the rest of his life without telling you how he felt he knew if anything happened to you it’d kill him, so why not at least make the most of the time he had with you.

He didn’t mean to drift off, one second he was just resting his eyes and the next he was blinking awake when he felt something shift next to him. He forced his eyes open and looked down to see you had pushed yourself into the small space between him and the sofa, your body more on him really, and a blanket thrown over the two of you. Your hand gently ran across his chest before you lay it flat against him and cuddled into him.

Joel brought his arm around you and you glanced up at him with tired eyes but still smiled at him and he couldn’t help but return the gesture before he placed a soft kiss to your head.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He murmured and watched as your smile widened, eyes lighting up now that you were safe and could enjoy the way the pet name sounded coming from Joel’s lips.

“Does you calling me baby mean you’re ready to tell me you love me?” You asked, tone light and joking so that Joel didn’t freak out.

“Sure does.” Joel said back, your eyes widening and smile dropping when his tone stayed even and serious, his lips twitching upwards as he looked at your expression. He had thought on the way home how he could tell you and hadn’t come up with anything but you had given him an opening and he decided it didn’t need to be a big deal. He knew how he felt about you and now you knew too. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Yeah,” You said, still looking up at him in disbelief before your lips pulled into a wide smile and you reached up to cup his cheek before pulling him into a kiss.

The angle wasn’t great for it but that didn’t matter as Joel kissed you back, the kiss soft but filled with lots of pent up emotions but there was no rush, the two of you were home and safe and had each other and plenty of time.

When Joel pulled away he couldn’t help but smile down at you, your eyes stayed closed for a few seconds longer before they fluttered open and you smiled back at him.

“God baby, I’ve wanted to do that for years.” Joel told you, causing you to laugh because he could have done that years ago and you wouldn’t have had any complaints. Despite how badly Joel wanted to keep kissing you, hell he could have spent the whole night like that quite happily, he could see the tiredness in your eyes and could feel his own exhaustion pulling at him so instead he pulled you into his chest and wrapped the blanket around you both tightly before pressing a lingering kiss to your head.

“Get some rest now, baby.” He murmured into your hair and felt you nod against his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you let your eyes fall closed.

The room was silent except for the sounds of your breathing and Joel had thought you had drifted off until you spoke again, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper but you needed to say it before you fell asleep.

“I love you too.” Joel grinned down at you and kissed your head again, whispering the words back once more before he finally felt you relax fully against him as you fell asleep.

He found it quite easy to follow after you, heart light as the confessions were finally out in the open after years of skilfully avoiding talking about your feelings. His fears from earlier were gone now that you were home and safe in his arms and he swore to himself he would protect you from whatever else the world threw your way.

__________

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Prompt - ‘Rain came pouring down, when I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe.’

There were a lot of moments from the last few months that haunted your every waking day and continued to plague you if you ever managed to fall asleep. The fear you felt in those early days, the dead running around as you desperately tried to barricade the doors to your house, the army rolling in with their guns and offering a safe haven only for your family to decide you’d be better off without their help and hiding out until they left. The next few months that followed saw the food running low, water stopped running, autumn nights turning to winter and getting colder.

The image that really wouldn’t leave your head was the clickers. They were fast, some were too fast to track until it was too late. Even now you could still see them pushing down the door, could see them tearing your family into nothing.

You had been out on the street, gathering what little supplies were still useful when you saw it happening. You couldn’t move, the screams carried up the street and you didn’t know how long you stood there for, staring at the only home you’d ever know, the dead flowers in the front yard, the smashed windows and the door that had been knocked off its hinges.

You didn't want to leave but it was too late. You had no idea where to go, didn’t know where the safe havens the army spoke about where but you picked a direction and walked with your head hung low and tears flooding down your face. It was like the world knew it had taken everything from you, as you walked the sky darkened and the heavens opened, rain soaking your clothes within seconds and leaving you even colder than you had been.

When night came you knew you had to make camp somewhere, it wasn’t safe to carry on when you couldn’t see. It was a strange feeling walking the streets whilst trying to find a place to hide for the night, cars had been turned on their sides, windows were smashed in, trash littered the streets and everything just felt eerie, like you were the only person left.

Eventually you came across a building that had long since been abandoned and tiptoed your way into it, holding your breath as you waited for a clicker to jump out at you. When nothing happened you figured it was safe enough and settled down against the wall, your coat around you as a blanket desperately trying to shield you from the cold.

You didn’t sleep much that night, every time you closed your eyes you saw the clickers, saw your family being torn apart, felt the guilt and the overwhelming sadness. You had no idea what you were supposed to do now, the safest option seemed to be to find one of the safe havens the army had spoken about all those months ago but you had no idea where they were.

It seemed the only realistic option you had was to just keep walking and hope you found something, some remains of humanity, some government site overflowing with people.

So that’s what you did, after getting too few hours of rest you pulled yourself back up, searched the building you were in for some supplies and headed out again, just picked a direction and tried to let your mind go empty as you walked. It wasn’t easy though, each step away from your home seemed to get harder and harder until it felt like you were pulling a boulder along with you.

As much as you didn’t want to think it seemed to be all you were capable of, thoughts running wild until you were drowning inside your own mind, desperately trying to breathe but it became harder and harder. Eventually you had to stop and force yourself to breathe normally, to wait for your vision to focus again before you continued on your way.

You had walked for miles, no clue where you were but your feet were aching something fierce by time you called it a night and found another safe place to hide for a few hours. You knew you wouldn’t get any sleep, the day had been long and filled with unpleasant thoughts that had tears streaming down your face, you couldn’t imagine your dreams would give you a rest either.

The next morning you were up before the sun had had a chance to fully rise, not able to appreciate the quietness of the morning or the way the sky filled with a golden light that spread across everything below or the fresh air. Instead the quiet left you feeling unsettled, your mind was too dark to let any of the morning sun light it up and your lungs felt too tight to breathe the air in.

You didn’t know how long you’d been walking for but eventually you stopped in your tracks, passing through a city you heard a noise around the next corner and held your breath, terrified of what you’d find.

So far you hadn’t come across a single person so your thoughts automatically jumped to the source of the noise being clickers. When you peeked your head around the corner as silently as you could you almost sobbed in relief when you saw actual, real people. Sure they didn’t look all too friendly with their guns strapped to them but you figured in this new world it made sense that the only people left alive would be well armed.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure what you should do but one of the men in the group solved the issue for you when he looked up, a gun immediately trained in your direction and everyone else followed suit. You let out a small cry and immediately ducked back behind the wall.

“Come out with your hands up!” One of the men shouted and you hesitated again, these were the first people you’d come across and you needed help, plus they already knew you were here and probably weren’t just going to let you wander off without knowing if you were a threat.

Slowly you walked around the corner, shaky hands raised and took a few steps towards them, meeting the group halfway.

“Well ain’t you a sweet thing.” One of the men grinned at you and you barely held back a shudder of disgust, your gut telling you to run the other way as fast as you could but you ignored it. “You carrying any weapons on you, baby?”

You opened your mouth in an attempt to speak but the words got stuck in your throat so you just shook your head, taking a hesitant step back.

“What you doing out here all alone without a weapon? You workin’ for someone?” A different man asked, thrusting his gun towards you.

“I’m, I’m not working with anybody.” You told them before wincing, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let them know you were alone out here. “I got separated from my friend, we’re looking for one of those government safe places.”

You watched as a sickening smile spread across the group's lips, a shudder running down your spine as you waited for somebody to speak.

“Hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but they were lying ‘bout those places,” the first man spoke and you felt your stomach drop, he had to be lying, there was no way this was all that was left of the world. “You think those fuckers were doing anything to help us, nah this is it now, ain’t nobody helping us.”

“What do you mean they were a lie?” You found the courage to ask, convincing yourself he was lying but another part of you believed it, everything else had gone wrong, why not this too?

“They just told people that before taking them away and slaughterin’ them all. Now we gotta look out for ourselves. Surprised you lasted so long, where you from anyway?” The man asked and you swallowed around the lump in your throat, a sinking wave of depression flooded you, this really was the world.

“S-Stanford. I’m from Stanford.” You choked out, not even fully registering the conversation anymore, anxiety running through your whole body.

“Stanford, eh? Long way from home, you even know where abouts you are, love?” He asked, watching as you shook your head before he grinned. “We’re in Hartford, you walk all the way out here, how long you been travellin’ for?”

“I don’- I don’t know, a day or two.” You told him, finally forcing yourself back to the conversation and seeing how some of the men slowly moved around, it was a move that was clearly meant to look casual but it sent a shiver of fear through you.

“Wow, you hear that boys, she’s been out here for two days. You must be real tired now, huh? We can help you out, we got food, a place to sleep. Of course it ain’t gonna be free but there ain’t no reason to let a sweet little thing like yourself go to waste.” You were circled in, fear running through you and wondering how you were going to get out when they all had guns and you had nothing but the bag on your back.

“I appreciate the offer, really I do, but I think I’m just going to find my friend.” You said shakily, taking a step back, eyes desperately looking for a way out.

“Now you see that ain’t gonna work with me, it’s been too long since I had a pretty little toy.” The man grinned again and you let out a shaky breath.

There was an opening between two of the men but it would mean you had to be quick, hopefully managing to slip past them and then you’d have to run and not risk looking back. You knew you only had one shot at this otherwise you’d be trapped here with them and you refused to let yourself think of what that life would look like.

You waited for the right moment, waited for the guy who had been talking to glance behind him, telling another man to get the car ready. It was then you bolted, constantly moving so that the bullets flying after you couldn’t hit you, running until your feet were even sorer than they had been and your sides ached and burned.

You didn’t stop for what felt like hours but finally it was too much and you had to stop, falling to the floor and panting for air, sweat dripping off you as you pulled your bag off your back and pulled a water out. There was only half left and you knew you had to save it but you couldn’t help but drink most of it.

You somehow managed to pull yourself back up after catching your breath, dragging yourself to shelter. It was the first night you were able to sleep, exhausted and emotionally drained from the day but even in your sleep you couldn’t find any peace, haunted by the images of your dead family, of men forcing you to do whatever they wanted just because they had a gun to point at your head, of a world with no safe place.

When you woke up you felt even more drained than you had before sleeping, the heaviness of your limbs dragging you down, the man’s words ringing in your ears about there being nothing left out here. You hated to believe him but you had walked a long way and found nothing so far.

There was nothing out here anymore.

Still you kept walking, the weight on your shoulders becoming heavier and heavier with each step. You camped out for two more nights, not sure where you were and uncaring. You stopped looking for clickers in the buildings before you entered them, stopped peaking around every corner, and had given up looking for food or water. The only thing of use you had found was a gun, it was old and beat up but it had one bullet in it and you put it in your backpack, with only one bullet you’d make it count.

You were nothing more than an empty shell, a ghost wandering the empty streets of whatever city you had managed to walk to. There was nothing left out here anymore, maybe people like the men you had met days ago could thrive in this new world but you knew you couldn’t. You’d lost everyone and everything you held close, you were alone and there was nothing out here.

You could feel the bone deep exhaustion, the pain that felt like it would last a lifetime and you weren’t sure you could deal with it, not in this world anyway.

You had walked through the night, not caring enough to stop and rest, you never rested, haunted by the memories and nightmares that were now your life. It was easy to just keep walking, fighting to keep your head above water and keep breathing.

You weren’t so sure you wanted to keep fighting. What was the point anymore?

The sun was beginning to rise, you could see the sky turning a burnt orange and figured you’d find a place to watch it. You didn’t have to walk for very long before you came across a long bridge crossing the water, some of the railings were gone from where cars had swerved into them and you sat down heavily, swinging your legs over the edge.

The sun was higher now, the golden tones shining against the water, turning the crystal blue orange. The sounds of the water crashing together actually made your shoulders relax for the first time in days and you knew that it was time.

There was nothing left for you here anymore, you knew you didn’t want to live alone in this world.

Without taking your eyes off the view you reached into your backpack and pulled out the gun, one bullet, one shot to make count. You’d never used a gun before, the metal heavy in your hands and you ran your fingers along its edges before cocking the gun and placing it under your chin.

Tears filled your eyes but you weren’t scared, not really. You kept your eyes ahead, staring at the rising sun. It was the right thing to do, it was either die by your hand or by some clicker or a dark, twisted person. There weren’t any good people left anymore, to have lasted this long there couldn’t be.

You had gotten lucky, managing to hide away with your family, isolated in a town full of supplies but it had only been a matter of time. The image of the clickers tearing your family apart, hearing their screams, came to the forefront of your mind and you knew this was the right thing to do, even if your finger did shake slightly on the trigger.

You took a deep breath, you were ready.

“Hey.” A soft voice called out from behind you causing you to jump, finger falling from the trigger as you whipped around to see a man standing on the bridge with his hands raised in front of him. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Go away.” You choked out, so ready to be done with it.

“Fraid I can’t do that.” The man said and you struggled to keep the tears at bay. “You don’t wanna do that, trust me.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t I want this? There’s nothing left out here.” You cried, watching as the man frowned at you, talking a few steps towards you before crouching down, his hands still raised. “My family is dead. I’m the only one left, why wouldn’t I want to do this?”

“I get it, trust me I do, more than you’d think.” The man told you, keeping his voice as soft as he could, almost like he were speaking to a scared animal, like one wrong word, if he even slightly raised his voice, then you’d spook. “But this ain’t the way to do things. There’s people, let me take you to them, they’ll get you some food, give you a place t’stay. It won’t make it better but you won’t have to do it alone.”

“There are no people anymore.” You told him through a sob and his face softened even more.

“There’s a Quarantine Zone, maybe an hour's walk from here, I was heading back there, let me bring you.” The man pleaded and you shook your head, not believing him. “Whatever you heard about these places, some of it’s true, some fell, some were taken over but this one’s still standing.”

“It doesn’t matter, you said it yourself, a bed and some food won’t make everything better.” You said, wiping at the tears falling down your cheeks.

“No it won’t.” He agreed and moved closer to you until he was sitting next to you, gazing at the rising sun. “I lost someone too, my whole world taken from me. Most important thing in my life was gone like that and it wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair the way I was just supposed to go on when my little girl was gone. It don’t get easier, God I wish I could tell you it did but this isn’t the way.”

“I miss them so much.” You whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks but the weight on your shoulders, the one you’d been carrying for days, and it was hard to believe it had only been days since your whole world turned upside down, it wasn’t gone, you didn’t think that weight would ever leave, but it wasn’t so heavy.

“I know you do.” The man sighed, turning to look at you and he reached over, keeping his movements slow. You looked down and watched his fingers close around your gun, gently pulling it out of your hands and moving it away from you. You didn’t try to stop him either. “But they wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“I know.” You sobbed, shaking your head and looking back up at the man. “I know they wouldn’t but it’s so hard, they’re gone and I’m here.”

“Let me bring you back to the QZ, it won’t make everything better but it’s a start.” The man murmured, reaching out hesitantly cupping your face, his thumb softly brushing at your cheeks.

You were silent for a few moments, unlike with the men you’d met days ago your gut wasn’t screaming at you to run, nothing was telling you this man wanted to harm you. You didn’t trust him, you weren’t sure you would ever trust anyone in this world but you were willing to give him a chance.

“I’d like that.” You whispered, leaning into his touch, and he smiled softly at you, when you returned the expression you found it was easier than you would have thought.

As you agreed to go with him, rain suddenly came from nowhere, not a little drizzle but a full on downpour of rain that drenched you and the man in seconds. The man looked up at the sky in annoyance but you couldn’t help but laugh, it might have been more of a sob than a laugh really.

Suddenly it felt like you could breathe again, sat on the bridge with the sun higher now, a kind stranger by your side who gave you some semblance of hope that maybe the world wasn’t entirely doomed, you could breathe. You knew the pain and longing would last you a lifetime but if you could just find, just hold on to moments like this, moments of hope then things might get a little bit better.

“We should get going.” The man called over the rain, letting you have a moment to laugh, to look up at the sky and let the rain wash over your face, mixing with the tears.

He watched you nod and he stood up, reaching a hand out for you to take yours. You hesitated for only a moment, eyes searching his before your hand wrapped around his and you let the man pull you to your feet. Once you were up the man gave your hand a squeeze before letting go and putting your gun in his backpack.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You told him once the two of you started walking, finding it was easier to put one foot in front of the other when somebody was by your side.

“Joel.” The man offered his name and you couldn’t stop the small smile twitching at your lips.

He was right, things wouldn’t ever get better and you would always feel the loss of everything but you were glad he was there, glad he hadn’t seen a girl about to put herself out of her misery and left her be. It still hurt every day but he was right about another thing too, you didn’t have to do it all on your own.

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I Wish You Would

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Prompt - ‘I wish you would come back, wish you were right here, right now, it's all good, I wish you would.’

Joel found himself walking the lengths of the gated community most nights, his thoughts wild and harsh, berating himself for being so stupid. Most of the time he waited until Ellie was asleep but some nights he felt caged and marched out whilst the kid was still downstairs, Ellie shaking her head every time he shrugged on a coat and opened the door but he was just glad she hadn’t called him out on his bullshit yet. He knew it was coming, it had been months in the making but he just wasn’t in the mood for it. He’d walked for a while but his feet always ended up taking him down the old familiar path that led him to your house.

How many nights had he spent just standing on your porch, fist raised as he thought about knocking before he turned with his tail between his legs?

Too many, too damn many.

It had been months since the breakup, god how had so much time passed already? He didn’t even know how it had turned into a relationship, he sure as hell hadn’t brought Ellie and himself back here with any intentions of getting himself a girl. But then you showed up, all pretty eyed and bright smiles and somehow, somehow, you had managed to worm your way into his life, somehow you had become part of the small number of people he would tear the world apart for to keep safe.

After Ellie he thought that was it, he didn’t think anybody else would be capable of coming into his life and turning it upside down again. You just seemed to love proving him wrong.

He’d gone twenty years without giving a damn about anyone else but suddenly he seemed to be making up for all that lost time given how fiercely and how strongly he loved the pair of you.

He’d already showed what he was capable of when Ellie was in danger but with you he had never had a reason to show just how dangerous he could be if you were in trouble, thankfully you weren’t put out on duty too often and you spent your time inside the gates but he knew if it came to it he’d kill anyone who even looked at you wrong.

And he had messed it all up. Even before the world ended he had never been any good at the whole dating thing. His job took up most of his time and when he got home he was tired and more content to spend the evening with Sarah than some woman.

He knew he liked you, it was a slow thing at first, he tried to keep you at arm’s length, tried to avoid you and distance himself but damn it if you were persistent. Tommy told him you were good, somehow even after all the doom and gloom you still found a way to be way kinder than people deserved.

It was Ellie that forced you into his life though. She wasn’t a stupid kid, not by any means, and she could tell that Joel liked you. So one day when Joel had gotten up from the sofa to make dinner not too long after she’d gotten in from school Ellie told him she’d invited you over to join them.

The look on Joel’s face was one Ellie had not seen before, he was torn between being pissed at her for springing it on him but he was also flustered, stammering out something unintelligible before demanding she help him cook seeing as she was inviting people over.

He had thought dinner would be awkward, full of stilted silences but seemed to forget that was impossible when Ellie was there. She must have asked you a hundred questions that night, one after the other, Joel had been tempted to tell her to calm it after the first thirty but you were smiling and answering them all, shooting them back at her and Joel couldn’t stop the smile that twitched at his lips.

From then on it became a regular occurrence, you joining them for dinner, most of the time you brought dessert that had Ellie grinning and swiping it from you before you even had a foot in the door. It was domestic in a way, listening as Joel scolded her with no real heat as he let you into the house and you automatically joined him in the kitchen to help finish up the meal. He scolded you for that too insisting you were a guest but you always shook him off with a laugh.

From there it went on, you stayed for longer after dinner was finished, Joel broke out the board games and grouched to himself when he was beaten by you whilst Ellie laughed at his misery. That turned into staying until Joel sent Ellie to bed and he saw you out.

Eventually it got to the point where you were staying long after Ellie had gone upstairs, you and Joel moving closer together on the couch until you were pressed against each other. Each of you usually had a drink and the conversations you had covered pretty much everything, at first they stayed on the safe topics of what you had done before the outbreak and other mundane things but eventually you started opening up to each other, Joel told you about Sarah, you told him how you were the only one who made it from your family.

Joel had never met anybody like you. He was right in his earlier assumption that you were too damn kind for your own good. Joel had told you things that should have sent you running, should have had you keeping as much distance between you and him as you possibly could have. Instead you had taken his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder before telling him he had done the right thing, that he had protected Ellie and that was the best thing he could do.

He didn’t know how you’d managed to survive out on your own for so long before coming across this place, too trusting and too nice, but somehow you had and he had never been more thankful.

It had taken months for Joel to finally even admit to himself that he was already halfway in love with you. At the point he had you had practically moved in with them, more and more of your things kept finding their way into their house, you fell asleep on the sofa and help Joel make breakfast before walking Ellie to school and heading to your own job only to meet back up with the girl afterwards and head to their house.

Ellie was a pain about it all, she wanted you and Joel together and she kept coming up with reasons to excuse herself giving you and Joel time together whilst shooting him a look each time she left the room. Joel could only ever roll his eyes at the look but even he could admit it was getting annoying now.

He wanted you, he didn’t know how it had happened but he wanted you and he knew despite everything you knew, despite the fact that he probably wasn’t the best thing for you, you wanted him too.

It took him a few more weeks to finally decide to just jump in head first and see what happened. So after cleaning up from dinner and playing a few games in the living room Ellie excused herself with a pointed look at Joel and this time instead of the half hearted glare he gave her each night he just nodded his head slightly and watched as she gawked at him before disappearing up the stairs, a soft yes escaping her as she left.

You had been able to tell Joel was nervous and usually if something was setting Joel off you’d be on edge too but considering it was just the two of you pressed shoulder to shoulder on the sofa you had hoped you could see where this night might lead. You’d been waiting for Joel to make a move for a long time now, not wanting to be the first to do it with how closed off Joel had been when you first met and then not wanting to ruin the friendship you had patiently formed with him. It was for the better to let Joel take the lead, even if it had been months of waiting.

He had watched your face shift from questioning to realisation and amusement as you settled even closer to him and waited. Of course you knew why he was nervous, some days it felt like you knew every damn thought in his head before he did.

He didn’t bother wasting anymore time, didn’t bother with words that felt stuck in his throat that could never do justice for how he felt for you, instead he just reached up to cup your cheek with a gentleness that had surprised you and leaned in towards you, stopping you before he touched your lips to give you a chance to pull away.

But you didn’t move, your eyes had fallen closed and your breath hitched despite anticipating this. Joel let himself close the distance between the two of you, let himself take a moment to savour the softness of your lips against his chapped ones before the kiss turned hungry, months and months of pent up pinning all channelled into one kiss.

From there nothing between either of you was ever really defined but it didn’t matter, Joel didn’t need any labels to let him know that he was in love with you. Nothing much really changed either after you started dating, it was only a few months after that kiss that Joel finally helped you bring your stuff around to their house and the three of you quickly got your stuff unpacked and you were settled in like you had never not been there.

Joel didn’t realise how empty, how lonely, he was before settling down, before having you and Ellie together, the pair of you at the kitchen table, heads bent together working on her homework, spending the nights with you curled up against him, listening to you laugh as he tried to kick you out of the kitchen as he cooked.

Really he should have known better, past experience should have taught him something, should have made him more cautious, but he had jumped head first in and now it was blowing up in his face.

It had been months, he couldn’t even really remember what that damn fight that made you walk out of the door with tears in your eyes was about. All he could remember was that it was the end of September, a time that always left him emotionally fragile at the best of times, and you had questioned whether he should be the one to go out on the supply run.

You hadn’t been anything but your sweet, soft spoken self, there wasn’t any judgement in your tone, no demands he stay inside the gates, just a simple are you sure you’re ok enough to do this. Joel being the absolute idiot that he was had gone and blown it out of proportion, honestly he was just picking a fight for the sake of it, he had so much anger and hurt and sadness in him that day and he took it out on you.

You who had been an absolute saving grace in this whole mess of a world, you who had stood by him no matter what, you who woke up in the night with whispered words and soothing touches when he shot up sweaty and panting and never forced him to talk about it before he was ready.

He had just kept going and going, yelling at you when you were the last person on this god forsaken planet who deserved it. He kept going until you took a deep breath and nodded, tears in your eyes and turned, walking out of the front door and not sparing him another glance.

It had been months since then, it was well into autumn now, the sky turning dark faster and the leaves turning brown. He hadn’t spoken to you once, he wanted to so badly but he knew he had messed up.

Ellie had called him every name she could think of to get him to see what an idiotic jerk he had been but he didn’t need her to tell him, he was well aware. He was aware of just how bad he messed up, hated himself for leaving it for so long but after he had calmed down and put the bottle of whiskey Tommy had given him months back away he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you.

He regretted it every day and wished he could just follow Ellie’s advice to suck it up and knock on her door you fucking idiot but time kept passing and it felt like too long had gone.

Joel was an idiot, you knew that, but you also knew he wasn’t used to letting other people in. Sure you and Ellie had somehow managed to chip at his walls long enough to slip past his defences and he was trying but you knew it was hard for him.

Spring and summer with Joel had been perfect, the two of you had only grown closer since you’d started dating and you loved the man, emotionally stunted as he was. You knew he had good days and you knew he had terrible ones, ones that left him in bed the whole day, words stuck in his throat as he grunted answers at you.

You didn’t mind, you had never minded. The world was a cruel place now and though Joel had told you a lot of what he’d gone through since the outbreak you knew there were things he hadn’t told you yet and that was ok too, you never pushed, especially not when there were things you kept to yourself.

When you had left his house that day you knew it would end one of two ways, Joel would come and find you once he had a few nights to calm down, to get past the day that haunted him from so many years back. You got it, you really did, it had been years since you lost your family and whenever an anniversary came around you didn’t want to do more than curl into Joel’s arms, hiding away whilst you cried into his chest.

The other option was that Joel would avoid you like you were a damn clicker, making sure the two of you were never in the same room whilst he licked his wounds. You hated that that was the option he went with. It wasn’t just months of dating that just ended one day but it was months of friendship before that. You were so used to his house that when you asked Tommy for yours back and he agreed with a sad look on his face it felt like you were in a stranger's house despite having lived there for years before Joel and Ellie showed up.

There was no more dancing around the kitchen as you cooked, no more stolen kisses and laughter filling the house. Instead you were alone in a house too big for you, cold and empty and missing Joel.

Of course you weren’t entirely lonely, you and Joel might not have been talking but you had to admit you were surprised when Ellie showed up at your door a few mornings after your fight with Joel, backpack on and demanding you walk her to school. You weren’t complaining of course and you didn’t complain when you walk past the school a few hours later and Ellie attached herself to your side, it was the closest she would come to giving either of you comfort but you took it silently and didn’t push her away when she walked into your house and made herself comfortable.

You were glad he hadn’t cut Ellie off from you, not that you ever thought he would and even if he did you knew Ellie would never allow it. Ellie was unlike anyone you’d ever met, so much of Joel in here and yet she was entirely her own person, so quick on her feet, always ready for a fight whilst silently always wanting some assurance that things were good and safe.

You didn’t even care how much time passed honestly, if Joel were to knock at your door now and apologise you’d have him back a second later. All you wanted was an apology, you might have been kind but it didn’t mean you would let people treat you wrong, you hadn’t survived twenty odd years in this new world by letting people walk all over you.

Most nights you lay in bed, the sound of people moving around outside could be heard but you blocked it out as your mind wandered. You always wished Joel would come to you, you dreamed about seeing him and watching as he stammered out an apology that he wasn’t used to giving before you would finally feel his arms around you again. You just wished he would show up and everything could go back to normal.

At the same time you were laying awake night after night missing the feeling of Joel’s arms around you, Joel was tossing and turning in his own bed that felt too empty without you in it with him. He ended up kicking the blankets off him more nights than not and forcing his feet into his boots, checking on Ellie to make sure she was safe and sleeping before quietly making his way out of the house.

Walking the lengths of the community didn’t really make it easier to dull the ache but he is able to sort through his thoughts easier than when he’s laying in bed staring up at the ceiling. The cold autumn air made him tug his coat tighter around himself as his thoughts went back to you.

God, you were the first person he had ever pictured something with, the first person he had wanted a relationship, a future, with. He had never seen himself as the type of person that would fall in love with somebody, for so much of his life he hadn’t had anyone and he had been fine with that but now he had had you and he wanted you back more than anything.

Night after night he found his feet walking unconsciously to your house. Each night he would stand at the closed door, pacing the length of the porch before turning back to the door and raising his fist. Whilst you were inside wishing he would knock he was sighing to himself as he lowered his hand and turned away, heading back to his cold bed for another night without you.

“You can’t keep doing this, Joel.” Ellie sighed a few weeks later, her voice uncharacteristically soft for this topic of conversation. “You’re miserable and not sleeping, I hear you sneaking out at night. She’s just as miserable, all she wants is for you to say sorry and then you’ll never have to talk about it again.”

“You don’t get it, Ellie. I messed up and now I’ve left it too damn late, she doesn’t deserve this.” Joel told her, keeping his voice steady even as his hands shook because the kid was right, he was so exhausted and he missed you.

“She loves you, Joel, she never stopped. She hates that house, just…just put everything aside, it doesn’t matter if you think she deserves better, she wants you.” Ellie told him as she stood up and grabbed her backpack. “She misses you and you miss her, you deserve something good, Joel.”

With that she turned to leave and Joel let his head fall into his hands. He knew she was right, he knew he was only making you both miserable and she had a point, no matter how many times he’d told you that you deserved better you always rolled your eyes and shut him up with a kiss, mumbling against his lips for him to stop being stupid.

He thought about that short conversation all day, it was nothing he hadn’t thought of himself but hearing Ellie say it made it sound more reasonable. You both loved each other and that was something rare, why was he so determined to mess it up?

That night he climbed out of bed again, stopping to check in with Ellie and rolling his eyes when he saw she was awake and grinning at him. He shook his head and told her to go to sleep before making his way out of this house. This time he forwent his usual walk of the community and instead made his way to your house hoping you would hear him out.

He didn’t have a speech ready, no grand words to win you back. He’d tried to pull something together but everything sounded forced and strained so he figured he’d see what he came up with when he saw you.

All he really knew was that he missed you and he loved you and even though that was scary, god was it terrifying, you were worth everything.

Now he suddenly understood all that romantic crap Frank prattled on about, about how there was somebody out there for everybody, somebody who would change the way he looked at things, changed the way he saw the world. He had always rolled his eyes when Frank started spouting poetry about love and finding your person even in this new cruel world but now he got it, he got what Bill had said when he read those words about finding the one person worth saving and protecting them because that’s what men like him were here to do and Bill was right, god help any motherfuckers who stood in their way.

Right now the motherfucker standing in the way was himself and he refused to drag this out any longer, if he knocked at your door now and you slammed it in his face then he’d accept it but if there was a chance you’d forgive him then he had to take it.

It wasn’t long before he was at your door and this time he didn’t give himself a chance to linger around, instead his fist knocked on the door and seemed to echo almost too loudly in the dead of the night.

Your heart sped up when you heard the knock on your door, there were only two people it could be and one of those was a young girl who wouldn’t bother with knocking, instead just letting herself in unannounced. The other was the man who had taken up permanent residence in your mind.

You threw a robe over your pyjamas to ward off the chill and slowly made your way down the stairs, trying to prepare yourself for coming face to face with Joel again for the first time in months.

Joel was a damn near nervous wreck as he waited for you to open the door, fists clenched at his sides as he cursed himself for listening to Ellie. You were probably asleep, it was probably for the best you didn’t answer anyway.

Just as he was about to turn and run the door opened and stopped him dead in his tracks. He could only stare at you, frozen in place like a deer in headlights. Ellie had been right, you clearly weren’t sleeping if the dark circles under your eyes were anything to go on, you had clearly been in bed though, hair slightly messy from where you had been tossing and turning and he could see you were wearing his shirt under your robe.

“God, I missed you.” He breathed out and then nearly slapped himself because that wasn’t what he had meant to say at all but the small smile that tugged at your lips was worth the slip up.

“What’re doing here, Joel?” You asked softly, leaning against the door frame and wrapping the robe even tighter around yourself as the air from outside hit you.

“Doing somethin’ I should’ve done a long time ago.” Joel sighed as he straightened up, it was easier now that you were in front of him, easier to breathe, easier to think, easier to speak. “You got every right to hate me, I should never have spoke to you like that and I sure as hell shouldn’t have waited all these months to come apologise. I ain’t gonna stand here and make excuses, I did what I did and I am so sorry, Y/N, I always told you you deserved someone better and I hate that I messed up so bad. I ain’t here asking you to take me back, I miss you like crazy but I get that I waited too long but you need to know I truly am sorry, baby.”

You were silent for about the longest minute of Joel’s life before your smile widened some more and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

Joel froze for a moment, stiff in your hold before you felt him practically melt around you, arms wrapping around your shoulders, one hand coming up to rest against the back of your head as he held you close to him, savouring the way you felt against him after months of doubting if he’d ever feel you again.

“That’s all I was waiting for, I just wanted an apology.” You murmured into his chest and Joel took a shaky breathing. “I love you, Joel, that never changed.”

“I love you too, you know that don’t you, baby?” He asked and you looked up at him, smile still in place as you nodded and reached up to press your lips to his.

Joel let himself be pulled into the kiss, let it stay soft and slow as he cupped the back of your head to pull you closer. Eventually the two of you pulled away, unable to do more than just smile at each other.

“We’re good?” Joel whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling as you nodded again.

“Yeah, we’re good.” You said softly causing Joel to lean down for another kiss before he pulled away again.

“Go put your shoes on, it’s about time you came home.” He told you, keeping his voice soft and low.

You didn’t hesitate to turn around and slip your feet into the first pair of shoes you found by the door, just as desperate to go home as Joel seemed to be to have you there. The two of you didn’t speak as you walked the short distance back to the house, Joel tucking you under his arm with both of you thankful that you were coming back.

Both of you were exhausted, it had been months of sleepless nights without the other and it seemed to hit the pair of you the second you were wrapped up under the blanket, you curled into Joel’s chest as his arms rested around you. Immediately you felt your eyes close, too heavy to keep open and Joel struggled to pry his open.

“Glad you’re back home, Y/N/N.” Joel murmured into your hair and you could only hum and nod tiredly against his chest. “Gonna spend the rest of my life treatin’ you right.”

“Love you, Joel.” You whispered into his chest and Joel smiled tiredly as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“I love you too, baby.” Joel whispered back and forced himself to stay awake until he heard you breathing even out and he was sure you were asleep.

The next morning Ellie couldn’t contain her smug grin as she came downstairs to the sound of laughter and music from the record player. Joel was the first one to see her and he couldn’t even pretend to glare at her, he owed that kid more than she knew and this was just another thing to add to the list, without her he sure as hell wouldn’t have pulled his head out of his ass and fixed things between you and him before they became too broken.

You were more than happy to have your routine back, cooking and laughing with Joel, sitting at the table making easy conversation with the two people you loved most in the world, glad that your wish was answered and Joel had finally knocked at your door to bring you home.

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Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

Hi, I'm kind of picky of FF in general, smut especially, but your "Pulling away" is just beyond perfect. Do you maybe have time and the enthusiasm to write something like that again? Not sure what other characters you'd write for (out of your master list) but another Joel would be great anyway. Thank you for your work!

A/n ahh thank you!! the feedback i've gotten on "Pulling Away" has been unbelievable,, and i very rarely usually write smut without being prompted to lol, i feel like it's too obvious that i'm a virgin who has had very few sexual experiences, even less if you don't count the ones i didn't fully consent to,, but that's neither here nor there, i'm doing better now i promise :)

also ik my masterlist is super limited compared to who i actually write for lol,, updating it is my absolute enemy but i'm working on it 😭

also the build up in this fic is criminal!! that's my bad!

Summary: You, Ellie, and Joel have recently decided to permanently settle in Jackson. The promise of stability seems to lead to boundaries adjusting during a sleepless night after Joel appears in your bedroom.

smut warning, 18 plus !!

----

It's existed in him as undeniably and permanently as the lines etched into the slightly calloused skin of the back of his palm. Control is something that Joel Miller knows, something he clings to the same way he keeps a gun in his hand when he needs to.

Control is what keeps him from reacting when your arm moves too carelessly and your elbow manages to push against his ribs. The side that you know is more yellow-purple than the soft tan it should be. If you weren't lying next to him, you would have assumed that the shift of your arm had no affect on him. But you're pressed closer to him than you've ever been, so you can feel the shift despite his intentions. It's subtle. A pinch in his breathing and a brief wave of tension in his spine.

"Sorry," your blurt out is instinctual, and you're not sure if it might be making things worse. You've never been this close to him and it burns so much you can practically feel it melting the thin ice holding the two of you above water.

Burns in a good way. A way that you've only ever felt through brief flutters that have come up more and more recently. Lingering touches patching up injuries, reassuring squeezes of hands that are always brief and never mentioned, the press of Joel's knee against yours as you sat at that table in Jackson, overwhelmed by the presence of so many strangers.

And now this. You, Joel, and Ellie had been given a place to stay. You used to dream about your own bed. A safe roof over your head and a clean blanket keeping you warm. Finally getting it left you restless. Being away from Joel and Ellie felt unnatural even if they were in the same building as you. There are so many strangers here, and even though they have no reason to strike you down, it's still weird.

You couldn't help the obsessive thoughts. It felt oddly compulsive, the urge to wrap the two of them up in warm blankets and bubble wrap and just watch them be okay. It's weird, but what can you say, Ellie and Joel are your people.

And then Joel wandered in after some talk with his brother. It had surprised you, considering the way he had avoided you earlier, but you'd never complain about having him close.

You're still not sure how it happened. How Joel started asking you about how you were settling and telling you that Ellie was just fine. He had gone in to check up on her and then lingered until she fell asleep. The thought of that domestic moment made your heart swell and you found yourself relaxing.

Somehow Joel ended up taking some of your covers. There's a draft, it's winter. You forced yourself to not focus on that in any other context. Refused to give it any other meaning. And then he moved closer, eventually laid his head on your pillow. You almost convinced yourself it was just a way to be a little comfortable while keeping up conversation. But then the talk eventually faded and you had to move to let him fit and you ended up like this. Safe and fragile.

This stray from what's normal is okay tonight. Everything is still weird, you three like awkward, feral cats compared to the people of Jackson.

"You're fine," he breathes, voice rough with sleep.

His acceptance is easy but it does nothing to make you less aware of your position. You're more on top of him than you need to be and your mind is suddenly scrambling, trying to remember every injury you've ever seen him receive.

Untangling yourself from the gentle cocoon you've created is an ache in your chest, but the thought of hurting him is worse. You move your leg close to the edge of the bed and start the careful process of retracting your arm.

Joel shifts with a slight sigh, his own hand following your own. He snags your wrist, pulling you back into place. "You're fine." Joel repeats his earlier words, so half thought out and mumbled together you think they might even be sleep idled.

"Careful," you try, fighting against the blood rushing to your face. "I don't want to hurt you."

Joel's hand moves down your forearm with a slowness that almost feels deliberate. You have to press your lips together to keep from exhaling too sharply. He turns his head and even in the dark you can feel the focus of his gaze.

He swallows once, lips parting for a moment before he speaks, "Hurts more the other way." It's vulnerable and not, undercut by something that feels so factual you briefly have to think about whether or not that's physically possible. "It's good pressure."

Your eyebrows draw together at the realization that he's not entirely joking. The audacity. He's always referencing his age and the soreness that's going to have to catch him at one point or another but now there's not a single concern for his joints or potential hip damage. You've always had a feeling that at least a part of that rant has to be bullshit, or at least some kind of exaggeration.

You scoff but make no move to pull away as Joel settles. "I don't believe you." Normally you wouldn't state anything so transparently. Any flash of softness is glass and barely tangible. Trying to grasp it by speaking about in the open makes it vanish. Like waking too suddenly from an incomplete dream. But you don't feel at risk, something about the dark and the warmth and his hand on your forearm. "You're so full of shit--what happened to old man knees and arthritis and hip joint iss-"

"You're making up those last two."

There's silence for a brief moment and then laughter. A stupid burst of giggles that has you forgetting the little bit of normal left. Your forehead briefly falls down, your face pressing against his shoulder as you try to keep it down. He laughs with you after a second, a reluctant, almost annoyed display of amusement.

You're still recovering, breathing a little heavier than usual and coming back enough to realize that this level of closeness may be pushing it. You lift your head just as Joel's hand finds a place between your shoulders. First a fist and then his fingers patiently relaxing. You don't think you've ever been this still in your life.

"I can't keep track of all your old man ailments," it's a whisper that's more against his skin than not.

He lets out a breath, "You needed me to help you onto a horse today."

You halfheartedly glare even though you're too pressed into him for him to be able to see you. "I could do it by myself now." Likely a lie, considering it had only taken a second with Joel's help and the concept of casual horse riding still feels foreign. "I just hadn't ridden one before."

His hand shifts up your back, an unbelieving hum escaping him. Has Joel always been this warm? And somehow both so evidently sturdy but still comfortable? Safe? You don't know what possesses you, maybe it's the urge to not feel so divided from him in any way, but you turn head slightly to make it easier to speak: "You're not actually that old."

He pauses at that, fingertips freezing against the fabric of your pajama shirt. "Older than you."

You let out a sigh, feeling like there's a hint of something else tucked into his words that you're too tired to explore. "So?" He lets out another flat breath, a sound you don't quite understand but makes you want to compensate, "You can get old, though, when it's your time."

He shifts in a way that feels like a combination of stifling a laugh and a display of a touch of reluctant curiosity. "You givin' me permission?"

"Not like that," you shake your head against his arm, "I just--I don't know--I think it'd be good if you got to be old with arthritis and bad hip joints and whatever else happens. It'd mean you were still alive."

You don't realize what you're saying until the words slip out. The blankness of your statement is too honest and you blame the fact that you're actually starting to feel like you could benefit from the sleep you've been putting off. It's instinctual to turn into him in a vain attempt to get closer even though you're already hanging onto him in a way that feels ridiculous. Your fingers curl in to him a little more, clutching at the surprisingly soft fabric of his shirt.

It's a subtle change, but you're not surprised that Joel notices. You are, however, not expecting him to understand. The hand on your back draws up even further, pushing you against him more firmly. Maybe Joel did have a point. Good pressure.

"Don't go thinkin' about it."

For once, you want to listen to him without putting up a fight just to see that line between his forehead reappear. But you can't. It's not that easy. Even here, as safe as it's ever going to get, there's still a chance of loss. And even if the world was perfect and Joel could guarantee that there would never be a dangerous patrol or anything threatening him again, there are still other things that worry you. There's no reason for you all to stay together.

When your only response is to halfheartedly nod so that he can feel the motion, Joel lets out a partial sigh. The movement of his chest is more noticeable than the sound. His hand travels down the expanse of your back, something you only recognize because of the warmth his touch leaves in its wake. You're only half there until his fingers brush against a small expanse of exposed skin where your sleep shirt had ridden up. Nothing insanely suggestive, nothing that should be considered too intimate. It's likely an accident, too. It's too dark for it to be intentional.

Knowing this is not enough to keep your body from tensing. Joel's fingers move upwards with no warning, slipping between the only layer dividing you. The cotton of the T-shirt is trapping him and the heat of his touch as his hand settles on your hip.

"You here?" His question is low, like he's trying to compensate for the hint of worry leaching into his tone. "With me?" The second part of the question is an afterthought, said so quickly and earnestly it feels like an impulse.

You're melting, and you don't mind it all. In fact, you're starting to think you might prefer it. "For now, at least."

It's half joke, half something else. A punch that some cynical, over worrying part of your brain needs to throw. You hope he won't see past the shell of humor, but feel the uphill battle in his silence. In the eventual drag of his thumb across the curve of your hip. The gesture is a contradiction in itself--small and cautious yet so natural. What should feel foreign is so familiar it coats it all in a layer of intimacy that's difficult to just sit with.

An odd sense of almost panic that makes it impossible to think settles in you. Something in you feels like it's burning, a slow fire that's patiently spreading. You don't know if you want him closer or farther or something in between.

The mix of unknown emotions is enough to distract you from your derailing train of thought. Maybe that's the point. Some strategy on Joel's end to force a mental reset. If it is, it's working. You wouldn't say you're breathing any better or more calmly, you're just more aware of the way air enters your lungs and filters right back out. The world seems to be reduced to that. Just your breathing. And Joel.

The little of him you can make out in the dark and the feel of him everywhere without him feeling close enough. He's steady, secure in his firmness like he's some immovable force. Joel is also starting to feel like a natural heater, radiating just enough warmth to make everything comfortable.

What is wrong with you today? These thoughts might be more dangerous than the other ones. They're definitely close to being more overwhelming. All of this has to be in your head, the result of all the feelings you've been attempting quell all day culminating and a touch of something else. The thoughts about Joel that you've been fighting against since you first met him finally winning.

Every time you've forced yourself to stare at your hands after the edge of Joel's shirt rode up as he reached for something or moved a certain way. Every stray thought that rooted itself in your mind like an invasive species while you patched him up after a rough day. Every painfully overwhelming moment where you let yourself get distracted by his hands for reasons you could never justify. Those same hands are on you right now.

Okay--you need to get it together. Stop playing at something that's definitely all in your head. Your eyes drift up, searching for Joel's expression in an attempt to convince yourself to be normal. To remind yourself what's at risk if you don't get what you've been begging yourself not to let be actual romantic feelings in check.

He's already looking at you, eyes focused and jaw so tense you can tell from your position. Joel presses his lips together. The hand that's on you shifts upwards. Nothing drastic, but the heat of his pinky is now melting into the skin above your ribs.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting a shaky breath escape you. It's too much and nowhere near enough. It's another contradiction that throws you through a loop. You need him closer and the desire twists at you even further. There's a level of hesitant care in all levels of him. In his touch, in the way he's watching you. Like he just can't help it.

It's so overwhelming you have to do something. So you do the only thing you can think of. You reach out to him. Your hand finds his upper forearm.

The motion seems to shift things. Joel lets out a breath, but it's not the easygoing sound it was earlier. It's strained. "Y'should get some sleep."

You're not all that tired anymore, but his tone and your own confusion makes you want to listen. At least he hasn't done anything to imply that he's leaving.

A part of you wants to leave it at what it is. There's no reason to risk his presence by pushing. You don't know what that last moment was about, but Joel's earlier gruffness from today seems to be coming back. "You okay?" The question feels awkward hanging there on its own. "You've been moody."

The hand still under your shirt adjusts with him. "Moody?"

"Mhm." His fingers ghost up your spine, making it twice as hard to organize your thoughts. "More earlier than now, when..." God, you can barely remember with the way he's tracing patterns onto your skin. "When we were with that group?"

Joel's lips briefly pull into a frown. "I know that Jackson people are a little different than us, but trusting them all so soon--" He cuts himself off briefly. "Just don't think it's a good idea for you to accept it all so--"

He pauses as you shift against him as you move to sit up. Joel watches the separation with sharp caution. He doesn't ease until you settle again, your chin resting against his stomach. "Seriously?" It's a lighthearted enough disagreement. "I'm not overly trusting anything. I feel like a crazy person half the time because I feel like I should be staring down anyone that talks to Ellie or you for a second too long."

The confession eases Joel much more than it should. It's proof that he's been searching for...proof that he's needed. That you're still here. Still his and Ellie's above anything else.

But it's been an unsure couple of days. You're good with people, likable in a natural way. You know how to make people feel easy. It's not your fault that you're the natural communicator in the trio, and it's a good thing that at least one of you is inclined towards that sort of thing. It's just been harder than he thought, to watch people always talk to you, even if it's just a way of communicating something to all three of you. Especially when you smile or laugh as another way to ease them.

It's even worse when it happens to be other men. You don't see it, the way their eyes linger or their tendency to lean in just a little too close. Don't know the way your polite smiles and words draw them in. There isn't exactly a plethora of new women appearing daily, so your novelty is only an amplifier to all your good traits.

Tommy's been giving him shit about it. How long did you have to close the deal on that when you were her only option?

It was an almost brotherly form of teasing, but it still rubbed Joel the wrong way because of how true it is. He can't justify the bitter, protective vile that leaves his chest feeling too tight when he sees how well you fit. How easy it'd be for you to end up with one of the guys from here, closer to your age and a lifetime less of baggage.

Joel hates the breathlessness of it, hates that he has time to think about these kinds of things now. The resentment is too much, bubbles up and comes out in the form of something mean, "Doesn't always look that way."

It's not an overly done insult, and somehow that's worth. Joel's faint accusation is personal and it lands the way he knew it would. You sit up so quickly, Joel can't even try to stop you. "What the fuck does that mean?"

The bed is small, clearly meant for one. Sitting up didn't exactly accomplish what Joel has to assume was your goal--to create distance. You're still tangled together, only it's different now. You're practically sitting on his lap. His mind, which should be focusing on the fact that he's upset you, that he's pushing you in the exact direction he doesn't want you to go in, can only think of your sleep shorts.

Maria promised to get you some pajama pants as soon as some came in, but that hasn't happened yet. Winter makes clothing a little scarce, so you've been managing in a pair of elastic shorts. Thin, elastic shorts.

"Just that it looks like you've been getting comfortable. Trusting others, spending time with Ben."

Your lips pull into a firm pout. "I'm not going out of my way to trust shit. Yeah, I talk to a lot of people, but that's just because I rather that than have them talk to you or Ellie first. It--it feels safer that way."

There's such a genuineness in that, Joel almost feels bad, almost feels the need to back step. But your indignation at the implication that you're trying to leave is too alleviating. Until you try to crawl towards the edge of the bed. Away from him.

Joel props himself up on his elbow and reaches for you. His hand finding your forearm feels like giving something up. A silent, too raw plea for you not to go. He knows it isn't quite that in so many words, but you understand. You always do in your talent for feeling the way he bends for you when he can.

For a moment, that's it. Just his hand on your arm, still perched on the edge of the bed, still flighty. One move and you might be gone. It'd be so easy.

Joel's never really considered himself a pissing on his territory type of person or one to be found of dependents, but he'd be lying if he didn't say Jackson didn't worry him. He's not an idiot, he knows he's been rough to travel with and that he's taken time to get to here, but you've always stayed close. Some of that must have been influenced by survival.

Not that Joel wants you to stick around because you have no other choice. He'd never use that against you, it's just something that he wonders about from time to time. A fear that this might be how he finds out that's the only reason the two of you have been together for so long.

He's been thinking about loss more lately. After the decision he made, after what almost happened to Ellie. Losing Sarah left him stagnant for 20 years and some days that grief still flares up and makes breathing feel impossible. It's a wound that will never fully heal, and maybe that's for the best. Hurt means not forgetting, but Joel knows he doesn't have anymore of that left in him.

What if he did just fuck everything up? Not just for him, but for Ellie as well. He sees the way she looks at you, like you're everything. He's peered into your mornings together, the world that is your little routine and your inside jokes. If he messed all of that up because he only knows how to be an asshole when any type of feeling comes up...

Joel knows action better than he knows words. Caring is easier an action, and so is apology. His hand releases your forearm, trailing down your arm and settling on your exposed thigh. When you don't push him away or try to move, Joel feels like he can fully inhale again.

"You know my priorities, right?" Your voice sounds more hesitant than before. Nervous. "It's you and Ellie. It's been you and Ellie and nothing's going to change that. It doesn't matter if we're here for two more days or two more decades."

A pinch of guilt rises in his chest. Normally that level of promise would make him feel the need to cut all ties. Safer that way. But Joel doesn't want to hold you at arm's length, not right now. Carefully, his hand moves forward, closer to your inner thigh than knee.

He should say something. Admit to his own insecurity or apologize. "I know," is all that comes out, even though it doesn't really matter, you have every right to walk away. Your eyes still soften, though, like he managed to come close to saying what you needed to hear. "I shouldn't have said that."

His hand moves up even further and this time you have to react, your breath catching itself on your throat. The noise fucking gets to him. Gets to him in a way nothing has in a minute.

"You're kind of an asshole, sometimes," it's breathed out in a way that feels like you're accepting his apology, "And it's only going to get worse as you settle into your old age."

There it is. The joke was forced through the uneven timbre of your breathing, but it's there. All you, all forgiveness in the way the corner of your mouth turns upwards.

Joel's thumb drags across the soft skin of your inner thigh, "So now I'm already there?"

You blink, unsure on how to react to anything with his hand tenderly working the skin of your inner thigh. Everything in you is only capable of focusing on the feeling, of chasing it. "Getting there." Joel's thumb and pointer finger briefly pinch at your skin in a way that has to be intentional, right? His touch is approaching the end of your shorts.

The closer he gets, the worse the distance feels. Your face feels like it's burning at the thought. This is Joel, not some random guy that things could be casual with. Or maybe he could be casual, but you--god, you're getting ahead of yourself. This isn't--it--

"Too old?" Joel stretches forward, sitting up a little more. "You lookin' for younger like Ben?"

There's something odd in his tone. A flat attempt at humor that misses because it's too straightforward. Ben. Again. This is the second time his name's come up tonight. Why? And that's not even the strangest part. His assumption is what sticks out the most.

"I'm not..." Fuck, his hands are killing you. "I'm not looking. Not actively and if I..." Okay, it's officially too much, he's turning you into a transparent puddle. His hand pauses and pulls back down, settling on your knee. Firmly. Unbudging in a silent demand to continue.

He traces circles onto your knee with his thumb. "You can say it," he encourages in a way that feels like he's patronizing you.

The words feel like too much. Some lines might have been crossed today, but nothing life changing. You two could still dismiss the whole thing, crawl beneath thin sheets, fall asleep, and wake up the next morning like nothing ever happened. But his hands on your thigh and the needy ache you're not sure you fully understand it left you with. And what it felt like to have him closer.

Joel's sitting up fully now, waiting. "If I was looking, it wouldn't be at Ben, it'd be..." His hand calmly trails back to its previous spot on your leg with each of your words. Fuck, you're struggling to think again. "At you."

At that, his fingers push upwards, touching directly between your legs. "Really?" He's quick to create a steady rhythm, pulsing his pointer and middle finger at a speed that makes it impossible to breath. Your eyes screw shut so tightly you see stars. "You're so wet, can feel it through those shorts of yours."

The way Joel's voice catches on itself makes a weak sound slip out. You'd be embarrassed by it if he gave you the chance to be, but before you can even think twice about it, Joel's free hand finds the back of his head. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you forward so harshly you try to gasp. The sound doesn't make it out, Joel's mouth is on yours before it has a chance.

He holds you against him as he takes his time pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth and letting his tongue glide over the bites. Your mouth opens for him instinctually, asking for more.

Joel's taking his time and moving at a speed that has him everywhere all at once as his fingers continue to work you through the fabric that divides you. He releases you with no warning, the hand at the back of your head finding a new place right beneath your chin. His fingers pause, forcing out an instinctual whine.

He's panting near your ear in a way that makes you miss his touch even more. "So this is all for me, sweetheart?" His eyes flit from your face back down to your lips.

Even though the question is dripping with roughness, there still manages to be a hint of something else there. Something genuine. It doesn't matter, though, because all you have the willpower to do is nod. Joel turns his head, pressing a kiss to your temple that's so close to tender it leaves you spinning. He trails the barely there kisses down to your ear before whispering, "Then prove it."

The word's send a jolt through you. "Prove it?"

Joel tugs you closer, you listen clambering back to where you were before trying to leave. Joel rests his back against the wall and makes a point of extending one leg. You don't fully get it until he's helping you ease onto his thigh. The material of his sweats is nowhere near enough.

"Joel--"

"Sh," he hums, soothingly as he runs a hand up and down your back, "It's okay, sweetheart." The hand that's still on your hip squeezes firmly. "I've got you, y'know that." He helps pull you forward on his thigh and the pressure after so long without nothing hits you harder than you thought it would. "There you go," you push down harder, faster, "Just like that."

The longer you go, the more Joel encourages you, whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement as the knot in your stomach continues to grow until your body feels it. You're seizing up, body ready to throw itself off of a ledge. Your thigh squeezes around his leg, which must be how Joel knows you're close, because before you can find release, his hand is leaving your back and moving onto your arm. In one, fluid motion that should be impossible, he flips you two.

Your back is on the mattress and Joel's above you, pinning you in place with his body. You can feel him, all of him, hard and struggling between the layers that divide you.

Your lips part, but you don't know what to say. You're still reeling from your stolen orgasm, and you're not sure if you want to curse him out for it or simply ask why and how. Bad back your ass the way he just turned the two of you over with no real effort.

Before a single sound can come out of you, Joel folds the edge of the T-shirt you sleep in, exposing your stomach. A fluttery kiss to newly exposed skin. Again and again until he has to push up even more of your shirt to continue. "This," his voice comes out lower, harder as he tugs at the fabric, "Off."

You sit up just enough to help him tug the shirt off as quickly as possible. The desperation makes it harder than it ever should be to take off a shirt, but the offensive piece of fabric eventually finds its way to the floor.

The bareness you feel is startling, even in this level of darkness. Joel doesn't give you a chance to let your mind wander or insecurity take root. His mouth is exploring the newly exposed skin immediately. It's a rabid mix of love bites and placating the irritated marks with soft passes of his tongue and genuine, devoted kisses.

It's then that you realize there's a reason he's taking his time. He's definitely hard, you can feel him pressing against your thigh, but that doesn't matter to him. He's taking his time because he can. Because he's enjoying it, getting off on having you writhing and desperate under him.

"Joel," your voice is so small it feels like it belongs to someone else.

He pauses, lifting his head just enough that the scruff of his facial hair scratches comfortingly against your skin. A reminder that he's still him. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

You carefully lift a hand, making sure your movements are easy to follow in the dark. Joel lets your fingers settle in his hair. "Need more-need you."

"I know, sweetheart." His voice is low and soft, impossible to not trust. "You can wait a little longer." His teeth drag against your skin again. "Can't you, baby?"

Fuck, he could ask you anything like that and you'd have to say yes. "Mm."

He takes it as the answer it's supposed to be. Joel goes back to it until his fingers finally snag around the elastic band of your shorts. In one swift motion, he tugs it and your underwear away, leaving you fully exposed. He gives no warning before moving his mouth to your thighs, slowly moving up until the only thing left is your center.

With no warning, Joel licks through your folds. You practically cry out. "I know, sweetheart," he mumbles, barely looking up, "You can take it."

After that, he picks up the pace. Just as you think you're going to get used to the overwhelming pleasure, Joel moves his hand down your waist to use his thumb against your clit. Fuck. You're panting, whining, begging.

Joel groans. "You're close, I can feel you." His fingers replace his mouth, "You gonna come?" Another whine, like your body has forgotten how to make any other sound. "Yeah?" He's picking up the pace, pushing his fingers into you in a way that hits you somewhere deep. "Come on my fingers, sweetheart, I've got you."

His pace reaches its peak and his thumb works at your clit until you're finally pushed over the edge. Joel reaches you before you can scream, muffling the sound of your orgasm by pressing his lips to yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue as he works you through your high. Joel knows when to stop, when the pleasure comes close to bordering on painful, he moves his hand back up your waist and focuses on just kissing you.

After a few minutes, you regain control of your thoughts. The urge to pull him closer takes over once again. Without thinking, you're tugging at the hem of his shirt. You almost think twice about it, but decide that it's only fair. He's touched so much of you and seen even more. All while fully clothed.

You're not as good or tactful about it as he is, likely due to the gap in your experience, but Joel picks up on what you want. He pulls away cautiously, eyebrows furrowing together like he's debating before finally giving in.

He discards his shirt just as carelessly as he got rid of his own. Joel tries to reconnect the two of you together again before you can take full note of him. It's a tactic you find the strength to beat, turning your head just enough to indicate that you're pausing.

Joel allows that, stills against with no protest. The silent promise that it's your pace is comforting. You let your eyes rake over his chest in what you hope is subtle, but really doubt actually comes off that way. You can feel him tense under your gaze. You stretch out a hand carefully, touching him because you can. Your attention focuses on the details that you can make out despite the limited light. A few marks of varying sizes are visible across his skin.

Scars. You wonder how many of them there are and the stories behind each. What it'd feel like to touch and learn each of them until they're as familiar as the lines of your palms. Your hand drifts down, faintly touching a particularly long mark.

Joel's hand moves, catching your wrist before you can make it any further. You frown up at him. "I want--"

"I--" He cuts himself off, unsure on how to explain it. You deserve to know what a war it will be to get him to open up, but he doesn't want that to change things. "Not yet, okay?" He squeezes your hand in his. "I'm not an easy person to care about, to get close to, but I--I can try to--"

"I disagree." He frowns at being cut off, but lets you continue. "And you don't have to worry about forcing anything right now, whatever you have to give, that's what I want."

That's all it takes. Joel crashes his mouth to yours, holding you there for much longer than before. He shifts away just enough to be able to pull down his pants. He strokes himself briefly before lining himself up with your entrance.

Joel enters you with no warning, easing himself in until your hips are pressed together. You're a mess despite his soothing words. He pulls back and pushes back, again and again until all you're seeing is white, blinding pleasure. "Fuck!"

"You're squeezin' me so good, sweetheart," his groans are hot and heavy against the shell of your ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he's losing his tact, his movements becoming more and more desperate. "You gonna come with me?"

You nod, eyes screwing shut as Joel picks up the pace until you're a mess again. He clamps a hand over your mouth as your second orgasm hits you fast and hard. It takes all of Joel's strength to pull out before finishing.

He lets himself relax against you after, a mess of sweaty limbs as you both recover. After a minute, Joel sits up. "You leaving?"

Joel brushes back your hair out of your face gently. "No, sweetheart, just need to get something to clean you up, okay?" You're about to protest again, but Joel beats you to it, "You don't want to sleep like this." When your only reaction is to pout up to him and cling to his arm, Joel leans down and finds a shirt to offer you. "Ellie's an early riser that never learned how to knock. You want to deal with this in the morning while pretending you're not?"

That's a point that sticks. You could probably explain Joel being in here early in the morning or he could climb out of your bed at first sunlight to keep this from being weird for Ellie...but your current state? Yeah, that's undeniable. "Come back?"

Joel squeezes your hand, taking a moment to watch your small expression fondly. "Promise."

Your lucky star (Joel Miller x reader)

Summary: Your town got attacked and you survived, before going to the west and then, you meet Joel. He doesn't seem to be receptive, but could he develop feelings for you?

Warning: angst, age gap, implied death of a family member, blood, some slight spoilers if you didn’t play the games

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Words: 4,7k

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot somes mistakes :)

*

As far back as you can remember, you understood that life was only an eternal suffering. You had never stopped questioning the existence of your life, even if some people told you that we were all born on Earth to fulfill a particular mission. You had never understood yours.

As far back as you can remember, you had spent your time in libraries. You were born in a city that looked more like a slum, six months after the apocalypse began. Then your whole family fled and lived on the road from the time you were three until you were six, in order to find the comfort of a city that wasn’t dictated by the Fedra. You were a family of beautiful doves in search of freedom, guided by the nostalgia of a democracy, of a normal life, where children laughed out loud in the street. Your parents wanted to find a place where you would grow up and learn all sorts of things; they dreamed of a school. A hospital. Warm, cozy homes, similar to the cocoon they had worked so hard to build before the world fell apart.

For as long as you can remember, you've been happy... Because you didn't know the misery of the quarantine zones, of trafficking of all kinds to survive. No, your family had been welcomed in a small town in the countryside called Wintervale. It spanned several streets, each one prettier than the next one. Sure, there were sometimes as many as ten people per household, which justified the sentence "it takes a village to raise a child," but you were safe. The 150 inhabitants lived peacefully, enjoyed hot showers, although a limit of water was decreed, comfortable mattresses, warm blankets, a school, two doctors, a bookstore and a few stores. As for food, it was distributed fairly and the city was self-sufficient. To protect the whole town, electric fences had been installed with guard towers, where each guard was relayed for a 24-hour protection. Thus, while living a normal life, you devoured many books, of all possible genres, from fantasy to science fiction – and those used to make you laugh when they talked about the apocalypse – through historical romance. Sometimes you even read more psychological books, about self-confidence, attachments and emotions.

During 14 years, you had suffered "only" six attacks. Attacks that had caused a few deaths and, thank God, mainly on the side of the attackers. All this was just the beginning... This is what convinced your parents that you had to learn to defend yourself. In the wild, who knows who you might run into, even if you rarely went out? Creatures weren't the only dangerous things lurking in the woods and cities... Looters, rapists, cannibals, slavers... A whole bunch of deranged guys you had to avoid or kill to defend yourself. From the age of 10, you were taught how to handle a bow, a sword and firearms, in addition to defensive techniques as a counterattack. At the same time, you were taught the art of hunting, if you were ever to do so.

All this... It was beautiful.

Despite all this work, you had lost someone essential... Your mother. She had died of a long illness, incurable, according to the doctors... For lack of material and serious medicine. It took you a long time to mourn and recover from her death.

But peace and apocalypse didn’t mix well, blood would flow. You felt that this departure in your life was just a phase to prepare you for the worst. After all, wasn't the role of a mother to love and prepare her child for life?

You could feel it in your bones... Something was coming. Oh no! A clan of raiders had attacked Wintervale with one goal in mind: to take this town, leaving no survivors.

You had fought alongside your family and the other inhabitants to defend this beautiful place tooth and nail... Until you lost them one by one. You could feel the sweat beading up your face, down your neck, and then tracing a furrow down your spine. Breathless, wavering, vision blurred, you knew it was over. You were ready to give up... A bullet whistled and split the air. It was meant for you.

But your father had decided otherwise. He threw himself on top of you to push you off, and the mortal bullet penetrated his flesh with a long, agonized scream. You could feel his warm blood on your hands and abdomen. A metallic scent floated in the cold night air. Your stomach heaved, bile rose up your throat and tears streamed down your face.

What had you done to suffer this?

No, what the poor inhabitants of this city did ? Defending your territory against evil people? No doubt it was the reason.

"Please, go away," your father murmured between coughs.

You wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes, from which life was escaping, begged you to fight...

"You are too young for eternal rest... Leave..."

Through this heartbreaking farewell, having only one way out, that of death for your father, you pressed a kiss on his cheek. What a strange thing, you had never been close to him. Not an "I love you", very few proofs of affection, simply because it wasn’t common in this family... But you found yourself saying these three words, heavy in meaning, loaded with emotions, with a trembling voice.

Your throat tightened, your stomach knotted, you waited for the agitation to calm down around you, your father already dead for a long time on you, to see a flaw... The flaw was the assailants who were dissipating in the city and who left you free to go back to your house. It was a considerable risk, but you couldn't just leave. You had gone back to get a photo album, some canned food, something to drink and provide for your basic needs for the next week... You didn't have time to say goodbye to the place where you had grown up in joy. Now it looked like a graveyard on the asphalt, with corpses lying in pools of blood.

Then you had to leave everything behind and sprint towards the woods with only one gun and two full magazines to defend yourself, a heavy bag on your back.

"Goodbye"... you breathed, without taking a last look at Wintervale.

Weeks passed and you walked across the country, not knowing where to go. You just kept going with old maps you found on your way. You ended up going west, far away from your old life, since your whole family had been dead for over a month and you didn't know anyone else. You were only focused on your survival, on finding edible food and drinkable water, on saving as much as possible. You avoided the places that led to the big abandoned cities, where it was not uncommon to see gangs shooting and kidnapping each other. You had of course come across a lovely couple, but they had only shared your life for a week and a half before they were bitten by some infected. You had no choice but to kill them... Out of dignity for them, but also to prevent new creatures from joining all the others. In fact, you were hoping that states like Wyoming or Idaho would be favorable to you, that you could find a new community based on mutual aid, with no penchant for human meat. Just the thought of it made you flinch.

After months of loneliness, where you had almost died several times at the hands of runners and clickers, but also from severe dehydration... You missed your whole life. You had thought of killing yourself several times. It would have been easier. A bullet in the head, the barrel shoved in your mouth, and it was fine. You would have done it in a room that no one could open, so that your body would be left in peace, so that no one would eat it. For some reason, you kept going. Something was telling you to go on, even though you didn't know what it was.

"No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for"

And this sentence, you will remember it for the rest of your days. You had heard it from the mouth of this man, tall, slender, muscular, bearded, and especially much older than you.

You were screaming. You were biting. You scratched. You were kicking.

The man above you had already managed to take off your shirt to see your bra-clad breasts and his dirty hand was trying to get into your panties.

"Get off me, you piece of shit!" you yelled.

The man, a few years older than you, laughed. He must have been 25 or 26 years old. There was no age for sexual assault, let alone the latest outrages. This psychopath didn't seem to feel pain, despite your best efforts. You dared to hope to attract creatures, which would leave him no choice but to release you. Despite the darkness of the night, you glanced at the sky. You prayed to your lucky stars for help. Any way you could, as long as that scumbag stopped holding on with his weight, far too heavy for yours. You had been losing weight over the years and losing strength as well. In the past, you might have been able to break free from his grip. The shame was slowly overwhelming you and you were losing your strength. You were ashamed that you couldn't push him away. Ashamed that someone would defile you like that. Ashamed to live in a world like this.

You didn't have time to beg him to spare your life, when a melee bar slammed into his skull. His hot blood spurted into your face and made you feel nauseous. His eyes rolled back and his body fell to the side. Immediately, you straightened up and moved back a good meter, before looking up.

In front of you stood a man, accompanied by a little girl. He must have been in his fifties, much older than you, marked with wrinkles, memories of his experiences, his fatigue and the traumas he carried with him. A warm and icy aura at the same time emanated from the charismatic individual.

"Thank you... Thank you... Thank you..." you stammered, over and over.

It was him, your lucky star. There was no doubt.

Your savior had turned around to give you some privacy while you got dressed properly. You were still shaking with terror and wobbling. You took one last look at your attacker before spitting on him. He deserved to be pissed on... You came to your senses at the last second and cleared your throat.

"My name is Y/N..." you breathed, in a dull voice.

They turned around and immediately the teenager next to her, who couldn't have been more than 15, gave you a warm look and a reassuring smile.

"I'm Ellie and the grumpy old man is Joel."

Weren't they related? Your eyebrows furrowed, you scanned them, confused. After all, you wouldn't be surprised if you'd run into a pedo...

"He's kind of my old man. He's annoying, but you'll get used to him. He's a good guy." the girl added.

"Ellie..." growled her "dad" before rolling her eyes.

And that's how you met them. You appreciated Ellie's spontaneity, sarcasm and humor, simply because you shared it. You never imagined that you would share companionship for so long...

For weeks, you grew closer to this man with a solid shell, so hard to break. Something in him attracted you like a magnet. Love at first sight? The mere thought of him made your cheeks flush. You knew you shouldn't have perceived him as a man with whom you wanted to discover the pleasures of life... He was even older than your father. If your family was there, they would have put you in your place and tried to shake you up... But all you could see was Joel... Joel Miller. His name tasted like honey on the tip of your tongue.

September was long and rainy. You found a small house to spend the night in, while Ellie stuck around to flip through the latest comic book she'd unearthed, while eating a can of food. That left you alone with Joel to try to dig up some food in the overgrown neighboring houses, whose white paint had been peeling for ages.

"Do you think we're even close to Jackson County yet?" you tossed, grabbing some handyman tools you could use.

"We have two more days at most. Then we'll rest at Tommy's."

"Man, if you only knew how much I miss a hot shower..." you muttered.

"Did you have them often?"

"Do you really want to talk about the past, Mr. Never Talk About the Past?" you teased him, in a mocking tone.

"Why not?"

That surprising as heck, but you loved the idea, you were so curious about him;

"In that case, you should do the same." you warned him, turning around to look at him.

He scratched his salt-and-pepper beard and nodded. A real miracle was happening, so you smiled, satisfied. But you didn't know what was in store for you... If you told him about your wonderful childhood, he would tell you about his most painful experiences.

Sarah. Tess. Bill. Frank. Smuggling. Life surrounded by Fedra.

"Ellie doesn't know about Sarah and... I don't want to discuss it with her," he revealed, in an enigmatic tone.

You nodded as you followed him out of the last house you had searched. Night was already falling and thunder was rumbling as the wind picked up, crisscrossing the clotted green leaves. Then torrential rain fell on you, like the deluge announced for the apocalypse.

"Hurry!" you hurried, even though you were already soaked from head to toe.

Instinctively, you grabbed his hand and pulled him with you. Against all odds, he didn't reject your hand, but tightened his grip. His hand was warm, calloused and somehow comforting. Your heart was pounding, not just from your physical effort, but from the joy that washed over you. Your whole body was quivering. Once inside the house, you noticed that Ellie was fast asleep on the living room couch.

"I'm going to change, I'm soaked from head to toe. My clean clothes are in the bedroom," you said with an awkward smile.

"I'm following you, I left some of my things there too..."

You nodded, blushing, as your imagination played tricks on you, sending you images more erotic than the others. You shook off these embarrassing thoughts and headed for the only room in the little house. Once you retrieved your other clothes, which you had quickly cleaned and dried, you watched the man unbutton his shirt. Your eyes widened and only when his shirt fell at his feet, you turned around to face him. Your cheeks flushed, your heart pounding and your hands shaking, you took off your sweater and put on a new one, then promptly swapped your pants for another. You took the opportunity to wipe your wet hair, not wanting to get sick. That would clearly be the worst thing... A simple coughing fit could alert a lot of infected people around.

At that very moment, you felt his burning gaze on yours, sweeping over your senses, so that you felt uninhibited. This man had power over you that you loved as much as you hated it. Why did he make your hands shake and your heart beat faster? Why did his lips seem so attractive? Why did you want to curl up against his chest, wrapped in his arms? When you turned around, he had also finished and was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes.

"Don't you want to eat? Shouldn't we wake up Ellie?" you questioned him, puzzled.

"She sleeps so well, it would be a shame to get her up just for a meal... Besides, it's better to eat before we leave, we'll have more energy."

In this world so rotten to the core, it was better to ration yourself and make smart choices when it came to food.

When Joel lay down on the bed, you realized that you were going to spend the night with him, unless you preferred the floor... Usually, you shared your bed with Ellie, between girls, while Joel found another mattress or rested on a sofa. You had never slept in the same bed as him, let alone this close. Nervous, you slowly moved closer, took off your shoes, then slipped under the covers. Eyes glued to the ceiling, stained with substances you'd rather not imagine –  probably mold stains from water infiltration – you enjoyed the softness of the blankets, even though they didn't have any warmth in them yet and they didn't smell like laundry. At least the bed was decent and you couldn't ask for more. Then you shivered at the cool air in the house and your damp hair.

"Come closer..." he whispered, in his rocky voice.

"What...?" you gasped in surprise.

"Come closer, Y/N."

You didn't have time to retort as he wrapped a warm, firm arm around your body and forced you closer. As you curled up in his arms, as you had been dreaming of doing for a while, you suppressed a smile and closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding against your rib cage, to the point that it was painful. Your hands were shaking on his chest. You dared to hope that he would mistake this for the aftermath of the rain.

"Joel..."

"Good night, Y/N." he whispered in the hollow of your ear, stroking your back.

You held back from stroking his chest, pressing warm kisses on his neck, then undulating your pelvis against his. However, you did nothing and savored the moment, knowing that it wouldn’t happen again soon. Since your childhood, your parents had taught you to cherish every magical moment, something you did, without asking yourself more questions... Questions to which you would have no answer. The heart has its reasons that the reason ignores.

The time passed and you found in the city of his brother, Tommy. The shooting had already taken place, the bodies had been recovered and their families were already preparing to bury them. Then... there was the conflict with Ellie. The situation became more complex, tense and you tried not to interfere too much between Ellie and Joel, because you understood both of their reactions. There was nothing left to do but leave for University in Colorado, was there? Before you could even say a word, Joel slipped an arm behind your back and pulled you with him, a little further away, so that Tommy and Ellie wouldn't hear anything of your conversation.

"Is there a problem...?"

"I want you to stay with Tommy and Paula."

You almost choked and shook your head. Miller pressed his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. A dark look, full of mystery and danger. A look you always melted for... But this time you wanted to stand up to him.

"No way."

"Please. I need you to stay with them... I don't know what's going to happen on the way to this campus or with the Fireflies. We've been through a lot of perilous situations already and..."

His voice froze and he pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking away to the orange trees.

"And what...?"

Joel shook his head and turned back toward two others. However, you wanted him to follow through with his thought, intrigued. He couldn't start a sentence without finishing it, what's more, if you were to be separated and... maybe never see each other again.

"Joel! And what?"

He turned around and took a deep breath.

"I don't want something to happen to you."

You could have smiled and jumped of joy, but at that moment you couldn't. That serious look on his face filled your heart and brain with a poison called fear... An oppressive fear, ready to make your heart bleed.

"Nothing will happen to me. I can defend myself."

"Don’t try to make me change my mind. Do this for me, please." he insisted, in an authoritative tone.

An authoritative tone and a request more toxic than ever, the only thing missing was the "if you love me, do it"... You knew Joel and this man was capable of tying you to a tree if it wasn’t for you to not follow him. With a heavy heart, you resigned yourself to accept. What you didn't understand was that moments like this were like saying "I love you" to him, words they hadn't used in twenty years... words that were so hard to say.

Joel Miller was not a man of words.

He was a man of actions.

And that act meant more than you could ever know.

Months had passed and they had returned, when everyone thought they were dead. In the meantime, Tommy had found a nice little house for you, where Joel and Ellie would soon join you. Meanwhile, you were working as a librarian and organized activities for children. Even though you didn't technically have to work, it was the least you could do. This town offered you shelter, hot water, electricity and food, as well as protection... You felt indebted. You also got to know Tommy and Paula, wonderful people, who always taught you a little more about Joel, but with limits. You wanted the older Miller to open up to you on his own.

Joel was immediately useful to this charming community, from guarding the ramparts to collecting food and doing manual labor in the surrounding area. As he relaxed, you discovered a completely different man, with more humor and a real talent, especially for music.

He began to teach you to play guitar... but that was before he met Jolene, a sultry redhead, a widow with two children. Her husband had died two years before, of a long illness. They had met at a party you couldn't attend, being bedridden with a fever, while Ellie watched over you like a guardian angel. Yet, that night, you would have preferred her to keep Joel under control... Over the next few weeks, you noticed that he was drifting away, focusing on Jolene, whenever he had free time. You were almost forgotten.

Hurt and heartbroken, you made sure to avoid him. You didn't eat meals at the same times as him, you focused on your work, which filled your heart with a little bit of happiness, and you tried to make new friendships with people your own age. So much so that there were no more guitar lessons... and you missed it a lot. You just didn't have the strength to go back to him. Even though he never promised you anything or really showed you something, you felt betrayed. You felt so stupid for letting yourself go and falling in love with a man much older than you, who probably only saw you as a kid... Like Ellie. The very thought made you feel nauseous, twisted your stomach and made you shiver with embarrassment.

One night, after a long day, you came home. Usually Ellie was already asleep or in the shower. There was not a sound, a sign that she was already snoring under all her covers. You took off your coat, scarf, and shoes before stepping further into your house. You walked down the hallway, which opened to the kitchen and the living room, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Joel's guitar. It was in plain sight, whereas most of the time he kept it in a corner. He probably had time to play a tune before he left for Jolene's house, where he slept half the nights... In fact, you were sure he wasn't just sleeping...

Don't think about it, you're hurting yourself for nothing... your conscience whispered. But it was so hard to accept.

A throat clearing pulled you out of your lethargy and made you jump. Quickly, you turned around and saw that Joel had returned without you noticing.

"Hey... I'm going to bed, good night," you whispered.

"Wait."

You frowned and watched him as he moved closer to you. Suddenly closer, he towered over you, so that you lifted your chin and he lowered his nose at you. This proximity made you miss a heartbeat. Only about ten inches separated you, something that had not happened for so long...

"I thought we could play a song together, it's been so long," he suggested, in a warm tone.

"I probably lost everything, it's a waste of time."

You didn't say this with aggression, but as a logical thing. You hadn't practiced since he was dating Jolene and it was late, the fatigue of the day was taking its toll.

"Please, just once..."

Joel wasn't a man you said "no" to so easily, he could be so stubborn and you didn't have the head to bicker with him. No, far from it. So you nodded and followed him into the living room, before sitting on the edge of the couch. He soon joined you with his guitar, which he placed on his thighs, before tuning it.

"I'd like to play you a song... I heard it today, it's been a long time since I heard it and it made me think of you."

With your lips sealed, you admired the way he prepared himself. He cleared his throat another time and began to pluck the strings in a soft melancholy tune. You recognized the notes immediately. Your mother loved this song that came out a few months before the world fell apart. Then, his husky voice, with a so particular tone, which never failed to make you shiver, took you with it and vibrated in the air.

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care

But it's so cold and I don't know where

I brought you daffodils in a pretty string

But they won't flower like they did last spring

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright

I'm just so tired to share my nights

I wanna cry and I wanna love

But all my tears have been used up

On another love, another love

All my tears have been used up

Why are you doing this to me, Joel...? you thought, your eyes moist. You had the feeling that he was doing this to torture you. How could he sing that song to you, with his eyes locked in yours, when he was in a relationship with another woman?

A tear rolled down your cheek as the last notes of music wavered in the air until they disappeared. You wiped it away with the back of your sleeve and jumped to your feet. You couldn't stand this humiliation any longer and be so weak in front of him. It was unacceptable.

"Y/N..."

"Leave me alone. Do you like making fun of me? Well, get the hell out of this house and back to your Jolene, before I beat the crap out of you!" you threatened, in a hoarse voice.

A gleam of guilt shone in the eyes of the older man who tried to take a step forward, but you pointed your index finger in his direction, in order to tell him not to move.

"Y/N, I broke up with Jolene. I have no feelings for her."

"Oh yeah? Nice? Shall we pop the champagne bottle?" you retorted, in a sharp tone.

"You're worse than me, you're stubborn. I just made a declaration of love to you.”

"More stubborn than you? Are you kidding me..."

You stopped dead in your tracks, when you realized what he had just said, confused.

"Wait... Can you say that again?"

Joel didn't like to repeat himself, you couldn't count on him to do that. Instead, his hands framed your face and he pressed his lips against yours. His rough beard teased your face, but you savored the moment. Your hands clutched the back of his neck and your body moved closer to his. You should have gotten mad and pushed him away, but your heart didn't care. For the first time, your heart was truly exploding with joy. Your heart was pounding, your legs felt like cotton and you felt like you were floating. In your bubble, you prayed that this moment would never end.

Love is a war made of battles, each one more difficult than the other and this day, you were triumphant.

*

Now, I’m thinking about writing a smut part… Should I do it?

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

On his backseat (Joel Miller x reader)

Warning: smut, age gap (reader in her 20s), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink + wrap your biscuit, please

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

Bonus: a meme at the end

*

All day long, a crazy tension had built up between you and Joel, at first for a silly little thing, but he refused to agree with you, when you were absolutely right. Then, the tension had built up so much between the two of you, that it had metamorphosed and soon, the older man's hands had been wandering, though discreet.

“I'm going to go. I'm leaving you and don't kill each other!” Ellie joked.

With these words, she slammed the door of the car you had repaired and leaved the garage you had just entered. You would even say that she was running away from you, undoubtedly uncomfortable because of the tension that had gradually built up in the car, but which she probably didn't imagine would be sexual. From time to time, when Ellie was reading one of his comics, he had kept his hand on your thigh, which he stroked, knowing what effect it had on you. She had preferred to leave as soon as possible and give you time to explain yourself with Miller, while she rested in the house where you had taken up residence for two days, the time to search this cute town from top to bottom. Once she was inside the mansion, you turned your attention to your lover... Of course, Ellie didn't know the true nature of your relationship: friend by day, sexfriend by night.

"Well... would it kill you to admit I was right about that damn alarm?"

"You weren't right. We should have been more careful..." he growled.

"Oh yeah, sure, and spend three hours on an alarm system to disconnect it, when it doesn't even take us ten minutes to get all the weapons back." you retorted, sarcastically.

Miller grumbled, but the sound of it brought a smile to your face, because the old man always made you laugh one way or another. Then he met your eyes and a glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. You slid a hand over his chest and felt his heartbeat under your palm; a sensation you'll never forget. His lips parted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to know the moment. Your fingers slid over his warm skin in gentle caresses as you admired the masculine beauty of his body. Then your phalanges slid lower and traced the contours of his abs. A sigh escaped from his lips, which pushed you to unbuckle his seat belt, then the one holding his pants, which you made fall. Its excitation was felt, a bump formed in its boxer, that you touched with malice, before releasing it from this confined space.

A wave of heat ran through you as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling the velvety texture of his skin. You began slow and gentle back and forth movements, under the spell of the intensity present in his eyes. Joel gasped, so that his hands clutched your hips as you increased the pressure in my movements. Your free hand explored the skin of his chest, then his thighs, until you felt his breath catch. You peppered him with kisses until his desire stretched like a bow.

"Baby..." he growled, sliding a hand into your hairline.

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you knelt on the car seat, staring at your partner. Your fingers kept on caressing him skillfully, being the source of the accumulation of pleasure in his belly. Slight grunts broke through the barrier of his lips and made your hair stand on end. God knows how beautiful he was, that expression of desire portrayed on his face, eyebrows furrowed, sweat beading his gray brows. Again, you stared at his body, admiring his chiseled abs and broad chest, before lingering on the throbbing erection before you. Then, you wrapped his length in your wet mouth. You felt him harden further and moan in response to your movements, so much so that his hips undulated. Your tongue ran along his member, while your lips worked their magic around him. His hands tangled in your hair as you titillated him, encouraging his pleasure, so that he struggled to contain himself. Your tongue played with his red tip and his whole member throbbed in your mouth, as if he was already approaching orgasm. Yet you knew Joel wouldn't accept such a thing; he was always holding back to make you cum first.

"Fuck... You're going to drive me crazy..."

Soon, you could no longer contain your desire and you gave in to your desires. You climbed onto his thighs and felt the heat radiate between your boiling bodies. You undulated your hips over his boner and placed kisses on his neck, before you rubbed yourself on one of his muscular thighs. Your movements became frantic and desperate, as if the world was about to end another time.

The warm night air washed over your skin, but the coolness inside the car was gentle. Your heart was pounding, a delicious mixture of desire and fear... The fear of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Joel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pressed his lips to your neck. You moaned softly, your body aching deliciously from his touch. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him to feel his body closer to yours. His lips follow yours in a fiery kiss. Electric sparks flew through you with each touch and caress.

Dizzy with desire, you pulled him into the backseat. His hands peeled away layers of you as you mimicked him between feverish kisses. Soon you were naked, on your knees, with your butt against him, giving him a magnificent view of your pussy. With his experienced fingers, he teased your clitoris, with which he played, while stroking your breasts. You were already wet and ready for him, but you felt no shame. Sex was one of the pleasures still present on this earth, especially when you were on the road like you. And your body knew full well that you were meant to fuck with him, it worked so well between the two of you... The pleasure climbed and your first moans of pleasure echoed through the cabin, as your fingers gripped the fabric of the backseat.

"Joel..."

He also knew what rhythm to take with your clit; he was playing with your emotions and your body. When he felt you on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and you squealed. Before you knew it, his warm tongue slid along your labia, drawing the contours of your clitoris, then one of his fingers brushed the entrance to your vagina. Another moan of pleasure forced its way through your lips and you nearly collapsed forward, but her strong arms held your thighs back.

"You taste like honey... I could eat your pussy all night..."

Your heart was pounding, banging against your ribcage violently, so you were begging him to make you reach nirvana. Without delay, the orgasm hit you full force, your legs shook and the euphoria poured into your veins in the form of powerful waves of shivers.

Then, with his hands on your hips, his cock pushed into you, drawing a moan of pleasure from you as he grunted. You were so tight and hot that he threw his head back for two seconds, his jaw clenched, and then he watched your two sexes joined together; an erotic sight that made him shudder. It was as if your pussy had been molded for his thick, long cock. A perfection he relished and enjoyed as often as possible. Finally, he moved inside you, a touch that filled you with more desire, made you quiver and tremble. Nothing else mattered at that moment; just you and the sweet union of your bodies. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the sound of your labored breaths filling the air of the car. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied your song of pleasure, which you tried to restrain, to avoid Ellie from hearing you, just in case.

"Oh shit... Joel... Don't stop..."

"I don't plan on stopping..." he whispered in your ear, in a suave voice.

You held on to this moment and let his love consume you in your wholeness. You were enjoying the moment, knowing that it won't last forever. For now, you were loving the delicious sensation he was producing in your lower abdomen. His powerful hands, anchored on your waist, drew you closer to him, your back against his chest, in a carnal embrace.

Without ever ceasing his sinful movements inside me, his lips traveled the delicate skin of your neck, your faces illuminated by the moonlight, resulting in a romantic and intimate atmosphere...

"Fill me up... Don't pull out..." you moaned.

"Oh God..." he growled. He was aware that cumming inside you was a bad idea, it wasn't like you were taking birth control, but the idea of his cum filling your hot, wet pussy amplified his pleasure. He was already picturing you with a nice round belly once you got back to Tommy's.

The excitement of getting caught fed the burning fire in your veins. You made the moment last as long as possible, until you both climaxed with moans. Your pussy pulsed around his thick cock and milk him dry. Your heart was pounding, beads of sweat ran down your skin and you were shaking. His seed spilled into you as his hot breath rushed down your neck.

*

Sorry, Ellie... For the backseat you're gonna spend another bunch of hours on.

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

Could someone write a Joel x reader fanfic with a reader who has generalized anxiety disorder (and even depression)? I really need this 🥺🙏

This is so beautiful and bittersweet!

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight. 

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life. 

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book. 

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens. 

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime. 

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.  

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for. 

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head. 

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started. 

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness. 

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden. 

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love. 

🫠🫠🫠

This… 😮‍💨

🥵🥵

take a guess (your father should know)

warning(s): explicit 18+, smut, daddy kink, plot with porn, marijuana, alcohol mention, wet & messy, dbf!joel, age difference, daddy issues, etc.

combining two requests cause why not! and doing a lil bit more plot than usual cause also why not. enjoy enjoy the filth! this one’s riddled with daddy issues sooo

-

joel, your father’s infamous ex-best friend has flipped your expectations of him right on your head enough times to where you couldn’t keep count or track. you’d expected at the tender age of forty-three he’d be married raising teenagers — but no. instead he had blended in more with the artsy, eccentric loner-type.

had spared you questionably long gazes under that thick beard, undoubtedly hiding some natural crow’s feet. he wore his age and his experience on his shoulders and exuded a particular, unique nonchalance that left a long lasting impression on you. especially when your father first befriended him.

college started right around the corner around the time you started seeing him swing by to drink and play guitar with your dad pretty frequently. granting you a nod of his head while he kept a toothpick to chew on between his lips.

while you lived in your childhood bedroom, still skating through all your general ed classes your first year he had already stopped coming around. you didn’t have the heart to ask your dad whatever had happened, but his name alone became taboo around the house, leaving his brooding looks and exceptionally broad shoulders nothing but a mere memory to you.

all’s you heard around town now was that after him and your father had a falling out, joel seemingly resumed his familiarly isolated lifestyle. only hanging around town alone or with his brother tommy, and you imagine little else being interesting beyond that. he didn’t ever even go on a date to your knowledge.

that being said, it still left you a blubbery-stomach’d mess to see him again in the flesh for the first time in over two years at your local coffee shop on a lucky tuesday.

looking about as rugged and worn in as expected, tired bags and a matching stern disposition still present in him when he orders his coffee — black with two sugars. flannel, cross between grunge and lumberjack while those same arms you remember all those years ago still bulge through every shirt.

the trepidation of going up to him suffocates you. it’s challenging not to feel as if you’re some fan bothering him for an autograph when you go up towards where he sat alone to say your long awaited hello.

the gruff resting frown-face turned into a warm smile at an instant once he looked up and identified who it is that’s just approached him.

the words he used and the way he used them still to this day force this feeling of unadulterated electricity down your spine and straight through your core. only alleviated by rubbing your thighs together could you reminisce about the first time he looked up; smiled, grabbed tight on your shoulders to bring you in for a welcoming hug and said—

“hey there, pretty lady. s’been too long since I’ve seen this face,” he smiles. cheeky while those arms start to squeeze you.

joel gave you his number and told you to ’reach out to him sometime’.

taking forty-eight hours just to gain the courage, you swallowed any vile insecurities stopping you from going after what you want. what you’ve craved ever since.

the first hangout felt casual in nature. joel had cracked open two beers for both of you while you binged horror comedies in his living room. you bonded over his intense and impressive record collection, the vast amount of genres he collected and listened to was yet another reason you’d fallen deep into your attraction to him.

right as summer was barely beginning to set in, you’d say you were at a point where you’ve had plenty of innocent nights with joel at his flat.

but it wasn’t until the hot nights started creeping in that things started to turn around and change.

he started smoking weed with you after he learned that you’d picked up the habit long before college to have a toke and release some stress. you can remember the state of his red cheeks when you told him how some strains make you really horny.

you thought you had no sure shot in hell of one little comment to have you ending up with your panties in his mouth, that gigantic fucking cock you’ve fantasized about now pulsing right between your thighs so gorgeously, and making his mark right inside your wet little walls.

of course he could read the bewilderment and excitement swirled together expression glued onto your face when he’s inching his boxers down his muscular thighs and whipping out his fat cock. to start masturbating. in front of you.

your dad’s old best friend, whom he’d had this mysterious falling out with — the details never spared to you by either of the men. but considering how nasty and deep and hard he’s pounding into you, it had to have been something substantial.

that first time, he had taken you and fucked you right on the couch of his living room, had you whimpering sheepishly down into the pillows while his cock was slowly shoving its way fully inside. balls deep.

“didn’t think you’d end up like this tonight, huh slutty girl? didn’t think your pussy would be begging to take all this?”

you came and trembled after the dirty words left his lips. he kept his cock nudged in the most exquisite spot. milking your pussy all around him for both your simultaneous pleasures.

it was clear why you couldn’t stop coming back after that. joel had a cock that treated you damn good in bed. he’d always whisper filth and moan obscenities every single time he slithered his way back into your panties. always watched you with those lingering, eager eyes that scan your entire body.

he started to call himself daddy the third time you came over. it was enough to make you squeal, hearing his deep, low gruff refer to himself as your play parental figure as his fingers rub your clit in addicting circles. lying to your friends, you say you don’t get turned on by calling a man, especially an older man your daddy. it felt corny, and performative, and overtly pornagraphic.

but when he ducks his face between your legs, and lays his first kiss onto your beating pulsing clit with his arms keeping you pinned to his tongue — you can’t help but writhe and moan joel’s newfound nickname.

tonight wasn’t any different. he’d taken you twice already today, once early in the morning and another time an hour ago after he rubbed your back and made you breakfast.

now he’s spreading your exposed sopping lips to gape you open with two of his fingers, humming approvingly at the drips spilling down your pussy and staining your sticky inner thighs.

“yeah sugar, let’s open that beautiful pussy back up. mhm. daddy’s never finished with you—needs you too much.”

his bare cock slaps against an ass cheek, almost demanding its way back in. so veiny and swollen like he didn’t unload inside you an hour ago, the length of it bobbing back and forth with the chilling movements of his hips.

“feel all that? it’s gotta all go back inside you baby. taking you again. s’many times as your daddy wants.”

you gulp and say nothing, do nothing. just staying pliant and wide open for him when he’s in daddy mode.

“let’s feel up what’s dripping outta you babygirl. oh, fuck. still so messy and pretty down here. I’ll clean you up after this round.”

blushing at the promise of taking care of you in any way, you feel your heartbeat in your pussy riling you up again. slapping his cock against you another few times as he strokes it, awestruck by the sight before him and the way your pussy clenched and glistened responding to him. his dick grows while the globe of the tip glazes your hole creating a loud long squish.

the gushing stimulation overwhelms him and thrills him. feeling it directly inside you how hard your pussy came before he wanted to fuck you some more.

“feels so good around daddy’s dick. she’s so nice n’ creamy for me.” he whispers through a long stretch of heavy breathing.

after his taut heavy balls were resting on your clit, you felt his entire length sliding snug inside you up to your belly button. he slides all the way out before intentionally ramming right back in. your legs have already started to shake on him. giving out as his hip motions help his cock locate every one of your spots while your old cum starts to really smear his dick.

harmonic wet slapping at rapid pacing had joel bulging with delight. thrusting every inch he was blessed with, having your mess combining with both your inner thighs getting coated with spend from the contact. joel almost can’t stand the sight of it without fucking cumming, busting his load to mix your cream with his. see and touch your swollen, exhaustingly pretty pussy. once he zeros in on every thrust, watching him enter and leave your body again and again shoves him off the ledge of control.

“daddy’s n-not—not gonna last, sweet fuck you’re squeezing my cock. mmm, that’s my babygirl, she knows exactly how to make daddy feel good.”

you’re a riled up mess beneath him, pushing back onto his cock to meet him in the middle as he slams it in at an outrageous pace. you could tell that he wasn’t lying, that your pussy truly did a number on him. he found his weakness every single time he either spread your thighs and went down on you or slid his member in all the way home.

“shit, here it comes—fuck! oh….. tell—tell daddy you love him. please.”

you don’t (and can’t) halt any of your wailing underneath him, still squeezing on his cock and hopping up and down. following directions felt so natural, so easy with him.

you clench as you ride him while he’s now stunned still.

“I love you, daddy. I need to have your cum in my pussy. please. I need as many as you’ll give me, mmmdaddy—please!”

joel knows it’s over for him now.

he can’t hold it back after he stammers, “y’gonna let daddy cum m’all over this innocent little pussy? ruin that perfect daughter image, huh good girl?”

joel’s cock twitches and jolts while his cum load fills you up to the very brim, the milky mess of it already trailing down after he’d emptied it.

you cum at the same time he’s twitching inside you, yelling his name and his nickname while you convulse all around the length of him.

“s’right. yeah, release it all over me baby. wanna make you feel good like that. that’s it, keep taking what you need. I’ll take it out whenever you’re ready,” he pants, giving you the lightest of spanks while you bask in the high of your afterglow.

slowly becoming aware of the utter mess in and around your legs along with his, you attempt to catch your breath and hold onto the pillow before giving him the green light to pull out. joel is delicate, always gentle with you as he exits your body, leaving behind his juices swishing with yours. a picture perfect image he can’t help but drink in the sight, before literally going down and sticking his face in to drink and lick your thighs and your opening clean. the hot tongue swirls so gently, wiggling everywhere to clean and worship you while you pull his hair and scream daddy.

when you cum pathetically hard on him again, he pulls the plug for real by grabbing a washcloth to wipe his dick and your legs before plopping himself down to snake a joint to light up.

your arm wraps itself securely around his toned torso. feeling his heart beating wildly out of his chest from the thrill of having you again makes you bury an unstoppable smile creeping up.

joel rubs your back, in his own world, taking easy tokes off the nearly baseball bat sized spliff. the smoke slowly floats out of the cracked window. his fingers that surely still had remnants of you all over them ash the joint in a cup on his side table before turning towards you in a fresh haze, raising a brow in offering a hit.

it burns your throat but he has a cold glass of water readily available. some odd number puffs later you both feel the unwinding, even if his dick alone had a similar effect on you.

“f’you wanna cum again, you lemme know. I’ll take care of you,” joel whispers, tracing absentminded shapes on your skin, dreamily drinking you in. “know how to fuck every last thought out f’this pretty little head.”

a worn out smile is all you have in you to answer, and he surprises you with a brief kiss on your head before ashing the remaining spliff in the cup and resumes his way of aftercare on you.

it’s risky to ask what you incline on asking him, but after the cloudy fog comes it eases your brain of the real world consequences. you rub his chest while you’re asking it, softly —

“what ever happened between you and him?”

after it leaves your mouth you have no way of guessing how joel will react. if his walls will come up, or if he’ll let them all down for once and reveal it to you.

it hangs in the air for an awkward several seconds, as if he’s unsure how to react either. but when he does, he kisses your forehead longer this time and squeezes your shoulder protectively.

joel’s voice is hoarse but gentle when he shrugs and murmurs, “think by now you can take a guess.”

your eyes don’t ever leave to stop observing him, his bed head you tugged on, his lips you’ve kissed and finished on. it’s undeniable how beautiful this man is, and how baffled you are at what he’s insinuating.

“we both know you aren’t a damn kid. you’re an adult, one that can make decisions,” he states, looking up at the ceiling before shaking his head and going back in for another smoke. he inhales another cloud all to blow it out and whisper like it’s still a secret,

“if I wanted to make a.. a move, it wasn’t gonna be in that vicinity of his. n’I could see how you deserve to be treated better, treated with—with care,” he stutters. offers you some more that you accept, hastily taking more puffs and filling your lungs with smoke.

“I mean, baby am I wrong? about him? about you deserving better?”

joel’s tone is littered in desperation. a worry that you feel immediately invested to soothe for him. scratching his scalp and rubbing his arms to show him what you’re trying to tell him.

you mirror his shrug from earlier, looking at him in his glassy eyes before kissing his knuckle and answering, “I think we can both guess.”

it’s evident in those furrowed angry brows, and shiny striking stare that it pains joel to hear that but also only makes him want to readily be there for you; fuck all the stress and all the worry out of you every day that you want it.

“it isn’t right. wanting you like this… but I’m helpless to it, to you…”

his little speech trails off into nothing while his lips start to drift to your neck and take turns nibbling and kissing.

joel nearly cries outright at the feeling of your touch stroking him again, feeling the blood rushing straight down to his cock, growing substantially quicker in size for you.

“yeah, babygirl. that’s your cock. do anything you want to this cock. daddy’ll allow it,” he breathes. you gaze up at him while he hurriedly lights the same leftover joint right back up again, hitting it while your tongue explores the underside of the veins of his dick.

“fucking perfect,” joel can’t help but marvel. blowing smoke down to shotgun it at you, breathing in his hit as you tease his member.

“m’helpless to you too. I need this,” you confess, sinking your lips down on the head and giving him a good long suck. joel’s hips stutter as his tip leaks pre-cum, directly landing right on your tongue. “I can’t live without your cum, daddy. I can’t.”

“oh, shhh…. shhh, daddy knows, daddy knows baby, you’re ‘bout to make me fucking cum doing that….”

just then your mouth travels further down and suckles down onto each of those mouthwatering balls, lightly tugging for more sloppy friction.

joel howls and mewls, spanking your ass while you continue your suckling and drink up his thick load one more time for the night before tomorrow, when you’ll both wake up and do it all over again.

-

🤣🤣🤣

Did not expect that ending LMFAO

Hope no one sees me cackling in my car and asks what’s up

Married Joel Sits on You feat. Joel Miller

Summary: Joel has a question for you. My contribution to my own Married Joel Sits on You challenge.

No Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader | Rating: Teen | Word Count: 615

Content Warnings: joel sits on reader, possible collapse of popchair imminent, fire pit recklessness, mentions of marital weight gain

Author's Notes: thank you to me for being such a menace. not read or proofed by anyone but me so you get what you get.

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This was not what you had envisioned your Saturday night to be. 

It had started out normally -  sitting in your neighbour’s backyard around the firepit, chatting with him and his wife and his brother and his brother’s wife. It had been pleasant, downright agreeable and gratifying even. At least it was until Tommy bid you and the rest of the group good night and he and Maria stood up and left.

You were left alone with Joel and Tess. Their exchanged glances from the otherside of the fire pit left you feeling a little nervous. 

Tess smiled at you, her face’s shadows flickering and dancing, carving a sinister visage that you hadn’t been aware she could hold, and her voice was lower and seedier.

“We been neighbours for a while.”

You nodded, almost too politely. “Yes.”

A silence fell over the three of you, then Tess stood up and made an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, if that’s the evening, I’ve had it. I’m gonna turn in.”

She gave Joel a look and a head nod towards you, before giving you a curt smile, and leaving to head inside.

Joel’s fingers nervously strummed on his knees as he raised his brows with a tight mouthed grin, and you returned one in kind, leaving you both sitting in silence once again. You had no idea what Tess’s ominous actions were indicative of, but you could feel the nerves come off Joel in waves, and that heightened you own.

You finally decided to cut the hush between you and cleared your throat. “Ahem uh, I.. I think I should also turn in - myself… and leave, too… and go home - to my house. Over there. My house -uh, home.” Your voice was trying so hard to keep the nervous timber at bay while you motioned to your property behind the fence.

Joel looked at you wide eyed, almost scared, and his mouth opened to protest. His need to keep you there must have taken precedence over basic host etiquette because as soon as you went to stand up, Joel jumped over the firepit and sat on you, pinning you to the flimsy popchair.

You could feel his heart racing as your face was pressed against his back and you felt his whole weight on you.

“I need you - “, he huffed and you felt the vibrations from his deep voice reverberate through his back.

You stiffened. Sure, you’d watched him through the blinds in your bedroom as he mowed the lawn, and caught him running out the front door in nothing but his boxers to chase the newspaper boy who threw the morning’s paper a little too close to the bay window out front. But once he and Tess were married a few years back, you’d tried to stop because marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. Tess made him happy and kept him taken care of and the only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline which was now pressing you uncomfortably into the creaking chair. 

“Joel - I think we shouldn’t-”

“No, please - hear me out!”

He cranked his head back to try and look at you. “I didn’t want to ask this in front of everyone and even Tess thinks this is a good idea.”

Butterflies or some other sort of fluttering insect bustled in your core, but you tried to maintain whatever decorum you could. 

“T-Tess thinks it’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, she said you’d be perfect but I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” He then sighs and finally says, “I need you to help me with my taxes.”

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Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin’ quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”